e feels all the
agony of death till she falls back in a calm, dreamless sleep. Or she
dreams that the lover she cannot get comes to her in a wood and tells
her that he really does love her, that her eyes are lovelier than the
stars, her hands whiter than the snow on Taurus. But other visions come,
more confusing. Another, whom she has never given a thought, comes and
tells her the same story. His protestations are even more glowing--and
it all turns to contention and sorrow, idle pursuit and strife, till her
powers fail (Helena).

"This is the dream chain of the lovers. The poet causes the man to dream
that he is unfaithful, or that he is enamored of one whom he does not
love. And he makes the woman dream that she is deserted or that she is
happy with one whom she cannot get. And together these dreams tell us:
watch your thoughts, watch your passions, you, walking in perfect
confidence at the side of your beloved. They (the thoughts and passions)
may bring forth a flower called 'love in idleness'--a flower which
changes before you are aware of it. The dream gives us reality reversed,
but reversed in such a way that there is always the possibility that it
may, in an unguarded moment, take veritable shape.

"And this dream of the lovers is given a paradoxical counterpart. A
respectable, fat citizen dreams one night that he is to experience the
great triumph of his life. He is to be presented before the duke's
throne as the greatest of heroes. He dreams that he cannot get dressed,
that he cannot get his head attended to, because, as a matter of fact,
his head is not his own excellent head, but the head of an ass with long
ears, a snout, and hair that itches. 'This is exactly like a fairy tale
of my youth,' he dreams. And indeed, it is a dream! The mountain opens,
the captive princess comes forth and leads him in, and he rests his head
in her lap all strewn with blossoms. The lovely trolls come and scratch
his head and music sounds from the rocks. It is characteristic of
Shakespeare that the lovers do not dream fairy tales of their childhood.
Higher culture has given them deeper passions, more intense personal
relations; in dreams they but continue the life of waking. But the good
weaver who lives thoroughly content in his own self-satisfaction and in
the esteem of his neighbors, who has never reflected upon anything that
has happened to him, but has received each day's blessings as they have
come--this man sees, the momen