| 450 | 451 | 452 | 453 | 454 |
| 1 | 133 | 265 | 398 | 530 |
|
Chapter LXIV
Tossing to and fro upon his hot, uneasy bed; tormented by a fierce
thirst which nothing could appease; unable to find, in any change of
posture, a moment's peace or ease; and rambling, ever, through
deserts of thought where there was no resting-place, no sight or sound
suggestive of refreshment or repose, nothing but a dull eternal
weariness, with no change but the restless shiftings of his miserable
body, and the weary wandering of his mind, constant still to one ever-
present anxiety - to a sense of something left undone, of some fearful
obstacle to be surmounted, of some carking care that would not be
driven away, and which haunted the distempered brain, now in this
form, now in that, always shadowy and dim, but recognisable for the
same phantom in every shape it took: darkening every vision like an
evil conscience, and making slumber horrible - in these slow tortures
of his dread disease, the unfortunate Richard lay wasting and
consuming inch by inch, until, at last, when he seemed to fight and
struggle to rise up, and to be held down by devils, he sank into a deep
sleep, and dreamed no more.
He awoke. With a sensation of most blissful rest, better than sleep
itself, he began gradually to remember something of these sufferings,
and to think what a long night it had been, and whether he had not
been delirious twice or thrice. Happening, in the midst of these
cogitations, to raise his hand, he was astonished to find how heavy it
seemed, and yet how thin and light it really was. Still, he felt
indifferent and happy; and having no curiosity to pursue the subject,
remained in the same waking slumber until his attention was
attracted by a cough. This made him doubt whether he had locked his
door last night, and feel a little surprised at having a companion in
the room. Still, he lacked energy to follow up this train of thought; and
unconsciously fell, in a luxury of repose, to staring at some green
stripes on the bed-furniture, and associating them strangely with
patches of fresh turf, while the yellow ground between made gravel-
walks, and so helped out a long perspective of trim gardens.
He was rambling in imagination on these terraces, and had quite lost
himself among them indeed, when he heard the cough once more. The
walks shrunk into stripes again at the sound, and raising himself a
little in the bed, and holding the curtain open with one hand, he
looked out.
The same room certainly, and still by candlelight; but with what
unbounded astonishment did he see all those bottles, and basins, and
articles of linen airing by the fire, and such-like furniture of a sick
chamber - all very clean and neat, but all quite different from anything
he had left there, when he went to bed! The atmosphere, too, filled
Page
Quick Jump
|