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 commented at the time on the 'seductive parallel between the tremendously successful playwright (Shakespeare) at the height of his career and this magician (Prospero) manipulating his actors, his stage effects and his audience.'