Seb. What! art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
Seb. I do; and surely,
It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? 220
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
Ant. Noble Sebastian, 223
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die rather; wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.
Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly:
There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do 228
Trebles thee o'er.
Seb. Well; I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do so: to ebb,
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Ant. O! 231
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.
Seb. Prithee, say on: 236
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee, and a birth indeed
Which throes thee much to yield.
Ant. Thus, sir:
224, 225 wink'st . . . waking: keep'st thine eyes shut, when awake
229 Trebles thee o'er: triples thy value
standing: between the ebb and the flow
233, 234 Cf. n.
238 matter: matter of importance
239 throes: pains
