Cler. Twas but your fancie, then, a waking dreame:
For as in sleepe, which bindes both th'outward senses
And the sense common to, th'imagining power
(Stird up by formes hid in the memories store,
Or by the vapours of o'er-flowing humours45
In bodies full and foule, and mixt with spirits)
Faines many strange, miraculous images,
In which act it so painfully applyes
It selfe to those formes that the common sense