A bad readout of an excerpt from prosperous. The tempest act 4, scene 1, 148–158. Our revels now are ended. These our actors,as i foretold you, were all spirits, andare melted into air, into thin air:and like the baseless fabric of this vision,the cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,the solemn temples, the great globe itself,yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,and, like this insubstantial pageant faded,leave not a rack behind. We are such stuffas dreams are made on; and our little lifeis rounded with a sleep. .
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