[Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.
Sebas. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Anto. It is the quality o’ the climate.
Sebas. Why
Doth it not, then, our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.
Anto. Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They[404-41] fell together all, as by consent;
They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian, O, what might![404-42] No more:
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be: th’ occasion speaks thee;[404-43] and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
Sebas. What, art thou waking?
Anto. Do you not hear me speak?
Sebas. I do: and surely
It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.