Myself disposed to sleep.
Ant.
Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
195 They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:—
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.