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La tempesta

Testo inglese a fronte. Ediz. integrale

By William Shakespeare, G. Bulla (Editor)

(1982)

| Paperback | 9788854124462

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6 Reviews

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  • 2 people find this helpful

    Stupenda l'immagine dell'edera come metafora dell'usurpazione: "[...] that now he was / The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, / And suck'd my verdure out on 't" (I, ii, 85-87). Altra citazione memorabile: "We are such stuff / As dreams are made on; and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep" ( ... (continue)

    Stupenda l'immagine dell'edera come metafora dell'usurpazione: "[...] that now he was / The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, / And suck'd my verdure out on 't" (I, ii, 85-87). Altra citazione memorabile: "We are such stuff / As dreams are made on; and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep" (IV, i, 156-158).

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    Guy Montag said on Jul 7, 2009 | Add your feedback

  • 1 person find this helpful

    *** This comment contains spoilers! ***

    La materia di cui son fatti i sogni

    ‘‘PROSPERO:
    You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
    As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.
    Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
    As I foretold to 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 ... (continue)

    ‘‘PROSPERO:
    You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
    As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.
    Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
    As I foretold to 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 dream are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.’’

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    Erling Khan said on Mar 16, 2010 about the Others edition | Add your feedback

  • "...We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep..." [Prospero, IV,I 156-158]

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    Lore? said on Dec 24, 2010 about the Others edition | Add your feedback

  • 1 person find this helpful

    In quest'opera c'e' tutto

    I libri:

    My library
    Was dukedom large enough.

    Prospero, scene ii

    L'amore:

    My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
    My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
    The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
    To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,
    Might I but through my prison once ... (continue)

    I libri:

    My library
    Was dukedom large enough.

    Prospero, scene ii

    L'amore:

    My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
    My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
    The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
    To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,
    Might I but through my prison once a day
    Behold this maid.

    Ferdinand, scene ii

    They are both in either's powers; but this swift business
    I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
    Make the prize light.

    Prospero, scene ii

    L'odio:
    You taught me language; and my profit on't
    Is, I know how to curse

    Calibano, scene i

    I sogni:
    Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
    Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
    Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
    Will 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 riches
    Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
    I cried to dream again.

    Prospero, scene iii

    L'arte:
    Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
    And what strength I have's mine own,
    Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
    I must be here confin'd by you,
    Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
    Since I have my dukedom got
    And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
    In this bare island by your spell;
    But release me from my bands
    With the help of your good hands.
    Gentle breath of yours my sails
    Must fill, or else my project fails,
    Which was to please. Now I want
    Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
    And my ending is despair,
    Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,
    Which pierces so that it assaults
    Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
    As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
    Let your indulgence set me free.

    Prospero, epilogue

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    Veidt1 said on Jan 19, 2010 about the Mass Market Paperback edition | Add your feedback

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