SEG.
Again? So soon?--What, not yet done with me?
The sun is little higher up, I think,
Than when I last lay down,
To bury in the depth of your own sea
You that infest its shallows.

CAPT.
Sir!

SEG.
And now,
Not in a palace, not in the fine clothes
We all were in; but here, in the old place,
And in our old accoutrement--
Only your vizors off, and lips unlock'd
To mock me with that idle title--

CAPT.
Nay,
Indeed no idle title, but your own,
Then, now, and now for ever. For, behold,
Ev'n as I speak, the mountain passes fill
And bristle with the advancing soldiery
That glitters in your rising glory, sir;
And, at our signal, echo to our cry,
'Segismund, King of Poland!' etc.

(Shouts, trumpets, etc.)

SEG.
Oh, how cheap
The muster of a countless host of shadows,
As impotent to do with as to keep!
All this they said before--to softer music.

CAPT.
Soft music, sir, to what indeed were shadows,
That, following the sunshine of a Court,
Shall back be brought with it--if shadows still,
Yet to substantial reckoning.

SEG.
They shall?
The white-hair'd and white-wanded chamberlain,
So busy with his wand too--the old King
That I was somewhat hard on--he had been
Hard upon me--and the fine feather'd Prince
Who crow'd so loud--my cousin,--and another,
Another cousin, we will not bear hard on--
And--But Clotaldo?

CAPT.
Fled, my lord, but close
Pursued; and then--

SEG.
Then, as he fled before,
And after he had sworn it on his knees,
Came back to take me--where I am!--No more,
No more of this! Away with you! Begone!
Whether but visions of ambitious night
That morning ought to scatter, or grown out
Of night's proportions you invade the day
To scare me from my little wits yet left,
Begone! I know I must be near awake,
Knowing I dream; or, if not at my voice,
Then vanish at the clapping of my hands,
Or take this foolish fellow for your sport:
Dressing me up in visionary glories,
Which the first air of waking consciousness
Scatters as fast as from the almander--
That, waking one fine morning in full flower,
One rougher insurrection of the breeze
Of all her sudden honour disa