Excerpt from Prospero's Monologue

The Tempest - Act 4 Scene 1

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air;

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capped towers, 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 stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.

Thou hast nor youth,

nor age,

But as it were

an after-dinner's sleep,

Dreaming on both,

…for all thy blessed youth

Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms

Of palsied eld;

and when thou art old, and rich,

Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,

To make thy riches pleasant.