midnight
O , Ferdinand , Do not smile at me , that I boost her off , For thou shall find she will outstrip all praise , And make it halt behind her . Then , as my gift , and thine own acquisition , Worthily purchased , take my daughter ; But If thou dost break her virgin knot before All sanctimonious ceremonies may With full and holy rites be ministered , No sweet sprinkling shall the heavens let fall To make this contract grow ; but barren hate , Sour-eyed disdain , and discord , shall beshrew The union of your bed with weeds so loathly That you shall hate it both ; therefore , take heed As Hymen 's lamps shall light you ! _ * * * * * _ You do look , my son , in a moved sort As if you were dismayed ; be cheerful , Sir ; Our revels now are ended ; these our actors , As I foretold you , were all spirits , and are Melted into air , into thin air ; And , like the baseless fabrick of this vision The clod-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 rock behind ; We are such stuff As dreams are made of , and our little life Is rounded with a sleep ! _ * * * * * _ Ye elves of hills , brooks , standing lakes and groves ; And ye , that on the sands with fruitless feet Do chase the ebbing Neptune , and do fly him When he comes back ; you demi-puppets , that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make , Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you , whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms ; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid -LRB- Weak masters though you be -RRB- , I have bedimmed The noontide sun , called forth the mutinous winds , And ` twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war ; to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire , and rifted Jove 's stout oak With his own bolt ; the strong based promontory Have I made shake ; and by the spurs plucked up The pine and cedar ; graves , at my command , Have waked their sleepers ; gaped , and let them forth , By my so potent art ; But this rough magic I here abjure ; and when I have required Some heavenly music -LRB- which even now I do -RRB- To work mine end upon their senses , that This airy charm is for -- I 'll break my staff , Bury it certain fathoms in the earth , And deeper than did ever plummet sound I 'll drown my books ! '' _ The fall of Cardinal Wolsey from the pinnacle of earthly power was the work of his own duplicity , greed and fraud , and all ministers of state may take warning from this great wreck of unholy ambition ! King Henry the Eighth sacrificed everything for his physical and religious ambition . Listen and profit by the last words of the old , ruined Cardinal : _ `` O , Father Abbot , An old man , broken with the storms of state , Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity !