de
In thy just favor, Heaven!

LISANDER-- Let us go.

JUSTINA--Thine is the cause, great God! Turn, for my sake
And for thine own, mercifully to me!

Translation of Shelley.

DREAMS AND REALITIES

From 'Such Stuff as Dreams are Made Of,' Edward Fitzgerald's version of
'La Vida Es Sueno'

[The scene is a tower. Clotaldo is persuading Segismund that his
experiences have not been real, but dreams, and discusses the possible
relation of existence to a state of dreaming. The play itself is based
on the familiar _motif_ of which Christopher Sly furnishes a ready
example.]

CLOTALDO--Princes and princesses and counselors,
Fluster'd to right and left--my life made at--
But that was nothing--
Even the white-hair'd, venerable King
Seized on--Indeed, you made wild work of it;
And so discover'd in your outward action,
Flinging your arms about you in your sleep,
Grinding your teeth--and, as I now remember,
Woke mouthing out judgment and execution,
On those about you.

SEGISMUND-- Ay, I did indeed.

CLOTALDO--Ev'n your eyes stare wild; your hair stands up--
Your pulses throb and flutter, reeling still
Under the storm of such a dream--

SEGISMUND-- A dream!
That seem'd as swearable reality
As what I wake in now.

CLOTALDO-- Ay--wondrous how
Imagination in a sleeping brain
Out of the uncontingent senses draws
Sensations strong as from the real touch;
That we not only laugh aloud, and drench
With tears our pillow; but in the agony
Of some imaginary conflict, fight
And struggle--ev'n as you did; some, 'tis thought.
Under the dreamt-of stroke of death have died.

SEGISMUND--And what so very strange, too--in that world
Where place as well as people all was strange,
Ev'n I almost as strange unto myself,
You only, you, Clotaldo--you, as much
And palpably yourself as now you are,
Came in this very garb you ever wore;
By such a token of the past, you said,
To assure me of that seeming present.

CLOTALDO-- Ay?

SEGISMUND--Ay; and even told me of the very stars
You tell me hereof--how in spite of them,
I was enlarged to all that glory.

CLOTALDO-- Ay,
By the false spirits' nice contrivance, thus
A little truth oft leavens all the fa