La Tempesta
La Tempesta, written by William Shakespeare in the early 17th century, is a tragicomedy that explores themes of magic, betrayal, and redemption. The play follows Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan, who uses his magical abilities to manipulate events on a mysterious island after being exiled with his daughter, Miranda. As a shipwreck brings his usurper brother Antonio and King Alonso of Naples to the island, Prospero's quest for vengeance and reconciliation unfolds amidst supernatural elements and political intrigue. Notable for its rich themes and complex characters, this work remains a significant part of Shakespeare's legacy.
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“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.””
— William Shakespeare
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.””
— William Shakespeare
“What's past is prologue.””
— William Shakespeare
“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-capp’d 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.””
— William Shakespeare
“Me, poor man, my libraryWas dukedom large enough.””
— William Shakespeare
“O, wonder!How many goodly creatures are there here!How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,That has such people in't!””
— William Shakespeare
“Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.Sometimes a thousand twangling instrumentsWill hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,That, if I then had waked after long sleep,Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,The clouds methought would open, and show richesReady to drop upon me; that, when I waked,I cried to dream again.””
— William Shakespeare
“Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fade,But doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong Hark! now I hear them,”
— William Shakespeare
“This thing of darkness IAcknowledge mine.””
— William Shakespeare
