Som. Ile take a nap and come annon.
Iris. Out, you beast, you blocke, you stone! Come or at thy doore Ile thunder Til both heaven and hel do wonder. Somnus, I say!
Som. A vengeance split thy chaps asunder!
Enter Somnus.
Iris. What, Somnus!
Som. Iris, I thought it should be thee. How now, mad wench? what wouldst with me?
Iris. From mightie Iuno, Ioues immortall wife, Somnus, I come to charge thee on thy life That thou vnto this Gentleman appeere And in this place, thus as he lyeth heere, Present his mistres to his inward eies In as true manner as thou canst deuise.
Som. I would thou wert hangd for waking me. Three sonnes I haue; the eldest Morpheus hight, He shewes of man the shape or sight; The second, Icelor, whose beheasts Doth shewe the formes of birds and beasts; Phantasor for the third, things lifeles hee: Chuse which like thee of these three.
Iris. Morpheus; if he in humane shape appeare.
Som. Morpheus, come forth in perfect likenes heere Of—how call ye the Gentlewoman?