And after which it all was dark again,
Bid me beware lest all should be a dream.
Clo. Ay—there another specialty of dreams,
That once the dreamer ’gins to dream he dreams,
His foot is on the very verge of waking.
Seg. Would it had been upon the verge of death
That knows no waking—
Lifting me up to glory, to fall back,
Stunn’d, crippled—wretcheder than ev’n before.
Clo. Yet not so glorious, Segismund, if you