On June 24th,2012 we (myself, Sha Sha Higby & Noh Actor Jubilith Moore of Theater of Yugen),did an open rehearsal of our project " Tempted by the Tempest", We are open to comments if you would like to leave them below
I find my zenith doth depend
upon a most auspicious star.
Now does my project gather to a head:
My charms crack not; my spirits obey, and time goes upright with his carriage.
What, Ariel, my industrious servant Ariel
All hail great master! Grave sir, hail!
I come to answer thy best pleasure
Go bring the rabble o'er whom I give thee power, here to this place. Incite them to quick motion.
I drink the air before me, and return or ere your pulse twice beat.
Be it to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.
Where should this music be? i' the air, or th'earth?
It sounds no more; - and sure, it waits upon some god o' th'island.
Sitting on a bank, weeping again the king my father's wrack this music crept by me upon the waters, allaying both their fury, and my passion, with its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, or it hath drawn me rather, but 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.
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-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
This is no mortal business, nor no sound that the earth owes;
I hear it now above me.
May I be bold to think these spirits?
Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call'd to enact my present fancies..
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; And ye, that on the sands with printless foot do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him when he comes back; you demi-puppets, whose pastime is to make midnight mushrooms;
By whose aid...
I have bedimm'd the noontide sum, call'd forth the mutinous winds, and 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault set roaring war: to the dread-rattling thunder have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak with his own bolt:
But this rough magic...
I here abjure; and when I have required some heavenly music I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth and deeper than did ever plummet sound, ill drown my book.
You sun-burn'd sickle men, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one in country footing.
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands...
Where the bee sucks, there suck I
In a cowslip's bell I lie,
There I couch when owls do fly
After summer merrily:
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough
Our revels are now ended.
These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are all melted into 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 out little life is rounded with a sleep. William Shakespeare Tempest