Interestingly this speech by Prospero does not contrast the unreality of the stage with the solid flesh-and-blood existence of real men and women. On the contrary it seizes on the flimsiness of dramatic characters as a metaphor for the fleeting fantasy-ridden quality of actual human lives. It is we who are made of dreams not just such figments of Shakespeares imagination as Ariel and Caliban. The cloud-capped towers and gorgeous palaces of this earth are mere stage scenery after all.