SEG. Oh God, if this be dreaming, charge it not To burst the channel of enclosing sleep And drown the waking reason! Not to dream Only what dreamt shall once or twice again Return to buzz about the sleeping brain Till shaken off for ever-- But reassailing one so quick, so thick-- The very figure and the circumstance Of sense-confess'd reality foregone In so-call'd dream so palpably repeated, The copy so like the original, We know not which is which; and dream so-call'd Itself inweaving so inextricably Into the tissue of acknowledged truth; The very figures that empeople it Returning to assert themselves no phantoms In something so much like meridian day, And in the very place that not my worst And veriest disenchanter shall deny For the too well-remember'd theatre Of my long tragedy--Strike up the drums! If this be Truth, and all of us awake, Indeed a famous quarrel is at stake: If but a Vision I will see it out, And, drive the Dream, I can but join the rout. CAPT. And in good time, sir, for a palpable Touchstone of truth and rightful vengeance too, Here is Clotaldo taken. SOLDIERS. In with him! In with the traitor! (Clotaldo brought in.) SEG. Ay, Clotaldo, indeed-- Himself--in his old habit--his old self-- What! back again, Clotaldo, for a while To swear me this for truth, and afterwards All for a dreaming lie? CLO. Awake or dreaming, Down with that sword, and down these traitors theirs, Drawn in rebellion 'gainst their Sovereign. SEG. (about to strike). Traitor! Traitor yourself!-- But soft--soft--soft!-- You told me, not so very long ago, Awake or dreaming--I forget--my brain Is not so clear about it--but I know One test you gave me to discern between, Which mad and dreaming people cannot master; Or if the dreamer could, so best secure A comfortable waking--Was't not so? (To Rosaura). Needs not your intercession now, you see, As in the dream before-- Clotaldo, rough old nurse and tutor too That only traitor wert, to me if true-- Give him his sword; set him on a fresh horse; Conduct him safely through my rebel force; And so God speed him to his sovereign's side! Give me your hand; and whether all awake Or all a-dreaming, ride, Clotaldo, ride-- Dream-swift--for fear we dreams should overtake. (A Battle may be supposed to take place; after which) ACT IV. SCENE I.--A wooded pass near the field of battle: drums, trumpets, firing, etc. Cries of 'God save Basilio! Segismund,' etc. (Enter Fife, running.)