Chorus. The more unlike she should continue ever.
Cornelia. My fearful dreams do my despairs redouble.
Chorus. Why suffer your vain dreams your head to trouble?
Cornelia. Who is not troubled with strange visions?
Chorus.—that of our spirit are but illusions.
Cornelia. God grant these dreams to good effect be brought!
Chorus. We dream by night, what we by day have thought.
Cornelia. The silent night, that long had sojourned,
Now 'gan to cast her sable mantle off,
And now the sleepy wain-man softly drove
His slow-pac'd team, that long had travelled;
When (like a slumber, if you term it so)
A dulness, that disposeth us to rest,
'Gan close the windows of my watchful eyes,
Already tir'd and loaden with my tears;
And lo (methought) came gliding by my bed
The ghost of Pompey with a ghastly look;
All pale and brawn-fall'n,[355] not in triumph borne
Amongst the conquering Romans, as we us'd,
When he (enthronis'd) at his feet beheld
Great emperors, fast-bound in chains of brass.
But all amaz'd, with fearful hollow eyes,
His hair and beard deform'd with blood and sweat,
Casting a thin coarse linsel o'er his shoulders,
That torn in pieces trail'd upon the ground,
And, gnashing of his teeth, unlock'd his jaws
Which, slightly cover'd with a scarce-seen skin,
This solemn tale he sadly did begin:
Sleep'st thou, Cornelia? sleep'st thou, gentle wife,
And seest thy father's misery and mine?
Wake, dearest sweet, and o'er our sepulchres
In pity show thy latest love to us.
Such hap as ours attendeth on my sons,
The selfsame foe and fortune following them.
Send Sextus over to some foreign nation,
Far from the common hazard of the wars;
That (being yet sav'd) he may attempt no more
To 'venge the valour that is tried before.
He said; and suddenly a trembling horror,
A chill cold shivering (settled in my veins)
Brake up my slumber; when I oped my lips
Three times to cry, but could nor cry nor speak.
I mov'd mine head, and flung abroad mine arms
To entertain him; but his airy spirit
Beguiled mine embracements, and (unkind)
Left me embracing nothing but the wind.
O valiant soul, when shall this soul of mine
Come visit thee in the Elysian shades?
O dearest life, or when shall sweetest death
Dissolve the fatal trouble of my days,
And bless me with my Pompey's company?
But may my father (O extreme mishap!)
And such a number of brave regiments,
Made of so many expert soldiers,
That lov'd our liberty, and follow'd him,
Be so discomfited? O, would it were but an illusion!
Chorus. Madam, never fear.
Nor let a senseless idol of the night
Increase a more than needful fear in you.
Cornelia. My fear proceeds not of an idle dream,
For 'tis a truth that hath astonish'd me.
I saw great Pompey, and I heard him speak;
And, thinking to embrace him, op'd mine arms,
When drowsy sleep, that wak'd me at unwares,
Did with his flight unclose my fearful eyes
So suddenly, that yet methinks I see him.
Howbeit I cannot touch him, for he slides
More swiftly from me than the ocean glides.