Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes
Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts,
I finde they are inclin'd to do so
Seb. Please you Sir,
Do not omit the heauy offer of it:
It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter
Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person,
While you take your rest, and watch your safety
Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy
Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them?
Ant. It is the quality o'th' Clymate
Seb. Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde
Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep
Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:
They fell together all, as by consent
They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:
And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: th' occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination see's a Crowne
Dropping vpon thy head
Seb. What? art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not heare me speake?