The Tempest: Act IV, Scene i


The Tempest.         Act 4, Scene 1.        Prospero

(This text is featured in our interview with Richard Sheridan Willis and Robert Richmond)

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177.  You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
178.  As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir.
179.  Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
180.  As I foretold you, were all spirits and
181.  Are melted into air, into thin air:
182.  And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
183.  The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
184.  The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
185.  Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
186.  And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
187.  Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
188.  As dreams are made on, and our little life
189.  Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex’d;
190.  Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled:
191.  Be not disturb’d with my infirmity:
192.  If you be pleased, retire into my cell
193.  And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,
194.  To still my beating mind.

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