| 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. (3.2.134-42) Ah, a weekend away with good friends! As I sipped champagne at The Four Seasons in Philly, I couldn't help but think of Caliban's poetic materialism. |
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