Even the white-hair’d, venerable King
Seized on—Indeed, you made wild work of it;
And so discover’d in your outward action,
Flinging your arms about you in your sleep,
Grinding your teeth—and, as I now remember,
Woke mouthing out judgment and execution,
On those about you.
Seg. Ay, I did indeed.
Clo. Ev’n now your eyes stare wild; your hair stands up—
Your pulses throb and flutter, reeling still