The Spoonbill Generator presents

The N+7 Machine

Original Text: Shakespeare, The Tempest, Act IV, Scene 1

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 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 our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell
And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk
To still my beating mind.

N+1

Our revelations now are ended. These our actresses,
As I foretold you, were all spirituals, and
Are melted into air-conditioner, into thin air-conditioner;
And, like the baseless fabrication of this visionary,
The cloud-capp'd towns, the gorgeous palates,
The solemn tempos, the great globetrotter itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageboy faded,
Leave not a racket behind. We are such stumble
As dreamers are made on; and our little lifeboat
Is rounded with a sleeper. Sire, I am vex'd;
Beard with my weal; my old brainstorm is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleadings'd, retire into my cellar
And there repository; a turn or two I'll walk-up
To still my beatnik minder.

N+2

Our revellers now are ended. These our actuaries,
As I foretold you, were all spits, and
Are melted into airbrick, into thin airbrick;
And, like the baseless face of this visit,
The cloud-capp'd townies, the gorgeous pales,
The solemn temptations, the great globule itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pagoda faded,
Leave not a racketeer behind. We are such stump
As dredges are made on; and our little lifeguard
Is rounded with a sleepwalker. Siren, I am vex'd;
Bearer with my wealth; my old brainwave is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleasantries'd, retire into my cellist
And there representation; a turn or two I'll walkabout
To still my beau mine.

N+3

Our revelries now are ended. These our ad-libs,
As I foretold you, were all spitfires, and
Are melted into airbus, into thin airbus;
And, like the baseless facet of this visitation,
The cloud-capp'd townships, the gorgeous palettes,
The solemn tenancies, the great glory itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pail faded,
Leave not a raconteur behind. We are such stun
As dredgers are made on; and our little lifeline
Is rounded with a sleepyhead. Sirloin, I am vex'd;
Bearing with my wean; my old brake is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleasures'd, retire into my cello
And there representative; a turn or two I'll walker
To still my beautician minefield.

N+4

Our revenges now are ended. These our adaptations,
As I foretold you, were all spittoons, and
Are melted into aircraft, into thin aircraft;
And, like the baseless facial of this visitor,
The cloud-capp'd towpaths, the gorgeous palindromes,
The solemn tenants, the great gloss itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pain faded,
Leave not a radial behind. We are such stunner
As drenches are made on; and our little lifer
Is rounded with a sleet. Sissy, I am vex'd;
Bearskin with my weapon; my old bramble is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleats'd, retire into my cement
And there reprieve; a turn or two I'll walkie-talkie
To still my beauty miner.

N+5

Our revenues now are ended. These our adaptors,
As I foretold you, were all splashes, and
Are melted into aircrew, into thin aircrew;
And, like the baseless facility of this visor,
The cloud-capp'd towropes, the gorgeous palisades,
The solemn tendencies, the great glossary itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial painkiller faded,
Leave not a radiation behind. We are such stunt
As dresses are made on; and our little lifespan
Is rounded with a sleeve. Sister, I am vex'd;
Beast with my wear; my old branch is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plebs'd, retire into my cemetery
And there reprimand; a turn or two I'll walking
To still my beaver mineral.

N+6

Our reverberations now are ended. These our addendums,
As I foretold you, were all splashdowns, and
Are melted into airfield, into thin airfield;
And, like the baseless facing of this vista,
The cloud-capp'd toxins, the gorgeous palls,
The solemn tenders, the great glove itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial paint faded,
Leave not a radiator behind. We are such stupid
As dressers are made on; and our little lifestyle
Is rounded with a sleigh. Sister-in-law, I am vex'd;
Beat with my weasel; my old brand is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plebeians'd, retire into my cenotaph
And there reprint; a turn or two I'll walkout
To still my beck minesweeper.

N+7

Our reveres now are ended. These our adders,
As I foretold you, were all splatters, and
Are melted into airgun, into thin airgun;
And, like the baseless facsimile of this vitamin,
The cloud-capp'd toys, the gorgeous pallbearers,
The solemn tendons, the great glow itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial paintbox faded,
Leave not a radical behind. We are such stupidity
As dressings are made on; and our little lifetime
Is rounded with a sleuth. Sit-down, I am vex'd;
Beater with my weather; my old brandish is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plectrums'd, retire into my censor
And there reprisal; a turn or two I'll walkover
To still my beckon mini.

N+8

Our reveries now are ended. These our addicts,
As I foretold you, were all splays, and
Are melted into airlift, into thin airlift;
And, like the baseless fact of this vivisectionist,
The cloud-capp'd traces, the gorgeous pallets,
The solemn tendrils, the great glow-worm itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial paintbrush faded,
Leave not a radio behind. We are such stupor
As dressmakers are made on; and our little lift
Is rounded with a slew. Sit-in, I am vex'd;
Beating with my weathercock; my old brandy is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pledges'd, retire into my censure
And there reproach; a turn or two I'll walkway
To still my bed miniature.

N+9

Our reversals now are ended. These our addictions,
As I foretold you, were all spleens, and
Are melted into airline, into thin airline;
And, like the baseless faction of this vixen,
The cloud-capp'd tracheas, the gorgeous palliatives,
The solemn tenements, the great glower itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial painter faded,
Leave not a radiogram behind. We are such sturdy
As dribbles are made on; and our little lift-off
Is rounded with a slice. Sitar, I am vex'd;
Beatnik with my weatherman; my old brash is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plenaries'd, retire into my census
And there reprobate; a turn or two I'll wall
To still my bedbug minibus.

N+10

Our reverses now are ended. These our additions,
As I foretold you, were all splendours, and
Are melted into airliner, into thin airliner;
And, like the baseless factor of this vocabulary,
The cloud-capp'd tracings, the gorgeous palms,
The solemn tenets, the great glue itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial painting faded,
Leave not a radiograph behind. We are such stutter
As driers are made on; and our little ligament
Is rounded with a slick. Sitcom, I am vex'd;
Beau with my weave; my old brass is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plenipotentiaries'd, retire into my cent
And there reproduction; a turn or two I'll wallaby
To still my bedchamber minicab.

N+11

Our reversions now are ended. These our additives,
As I foretold you, were all splices, and
Are melted into airlock, into thin airlock;
And, like the baseless factory of this vocal,
The cloud-capp'd tracks, the gorgeous palominos,
The solemn tenners, the great glut itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pair faded,
Leave not a radiographer behind. We are such sty
As drifts are made on; and our little light
Is rounded with a slide. Site, I am vex'd;
Beautician with my weaver; my old brasserie is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plights'd, retire into my centaur
And there reproof; a turn or two I'll wallet
To still my bedfellow minim.

N+12

Our reverts now are ended. These our addresses,
As I foretold you, were all splints, and
Are melted into airman, into thin airman;
And, like the baseless factotum of this vocalist,
The cloud-capp'd trackers, the gorgeous palpitations,
The solemn tenniss, the great glutton itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pal faded,
Leave not a radiologist behind. We are such stye
As drifters are made on; and our little light-year
Is rounded with a slight. Sitter, I am vex'd;
Beauty with my web; my old brassiere is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plimsolls'd, retire into my centenarian
And there reptile; a turn or two I'll wallflower
To still my bedpan minimum.

N+13

Our reviews now are ended. These our addressees,
As I foretold you, were all splinters, and
Are melted into airplane, into thin airplane;
And, like the baseless faculty of this vocation,
The cloud-capp'd tracksuits, the gorgeous pamphlets,
The solemn tenons, the great gnash itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial palace faded,
Leave not a radiotherapist behind. We are such style
As drills are made on; and our little lighter
Is rounded with a slimmer. Sitting, I am vex'd;
Beaver with my wed; my old brat is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plinths'd, retire into my centenary
And there republic; a turn or two I'll wallop
To still my bedpost mining.

N+14

Our reviewers now are ended. These our adepts,
As I foretold you, were all splits, and
Are melted into airport, into thin airport;
And, like the baseless fad of this vocative,
The cloud-capp'd tracts, the gorgeous pamphleteers,
The solemn tenors, the great gnat itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial palate faded,
Leave not a radish behind. We are such stylist
As drinks are made on; and our little lighthouse
Is rounded with a sling. Situation, I am vex'd;
Beck with my wedding; my old brave is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plods'd, retire into my centennial
And there republican; a turn or two I'll walloping
To still my bedroll minion.

N+15

Our revises now are ended. These our adherents,
As I foretold you, were all splodges, and
Are melted into airship, into thin airship;
And, like the baseless fade of this vodka,
The cloud-capp'd tractors, the gorgeous pans,
The solemn tenpins, the great gnaw itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pale faded,
Leave not a radius behind. We are such stylus
As drinkers are made on; and our little lighting
Is rounded with a slink. Sixpence, I am vex'd;
Beckon with my wedge; my old brawl is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be plodders'd, retire into my centilitre
And there repulse; a turn or two I'll wallow
To still my bedroom minister.

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