by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Translation by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885)
Prospero's Vision
Language: English
You do look, my son, in a moved sort, As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir. [Our revels now are ended.]1 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. Sir, I am vex'd; [Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled: Be not disturb'd with my infirmity: If you be pleased, retire into my cell And there repose:]1 a turn or two I'll walk, To still my beating mind.
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1 omitted by Saariaho.
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
1 omitted by Saariaho.
Text Authorship:
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), appears in The Tempest, Act IV, Scene 1 (Prospero) [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Kaija Saariaho (1952 - 2023), "Prospero's Vision", published 2004? [ baritone, clarinet, harp, violin, and contrabass ], from The Tempest Songbook, no. 4 [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François Pierre Guillaume Guizot)
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Andrea Maffei) , no title, first published 1869
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2010-01-21
Line count: 18
Word count: 139
Il volto tuo
Language: Italian (Italiano) after the English
Il volto tuo, Figlio, mi svela il tuo terror. Finiti Ecco i nostri diporti; e le apparenze Che li eseguìr non son, come ti dissi, Altro che Spirti, e dileguàr d’un tratto. ― Come il vuoto edificio e senza base Di questa visïon nell’aer lieve Sparì, così le torri, a cui la cima Talor velan le nubi, i mäestosi Palagi, i templi venerandi e tutto L’orbe terreno e ciò che in lui s’accoglie, Quando che sia dileguerà, nè traccia Lascierà dietro a sè più che non v’abbia Quest’aereo spettacolo lasciata. Della vacua sustanza, o buon Fernando, Onde i sogni son fatti, è l’uom composto, Ed involta nel sonno è la fugace Nostra esistenza. ― Afflitto io son. Perdona! La fralezza mi vince, ed è l’antica Mia mente oppressa; tuttavia di questo Non ti accorar: durevole malore Non è. Va’ nella grotta, e ti riposa. Muterò per l’aperto alcuni passi, E spero ridonar la consueta Calma al mio core.
About the headline (FAQ)
Text Authorship:
- by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885), no title, first published 1869 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Based on:
- a text in English by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), appears in The Tempest, Act IV, Scene 1 (Prospero)
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Researcher for this page: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2019-05-09
Line count: 25
Word count: 158