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My wife is in the arms of Morpheus an allegorical crim. con., which we husbands are obliged to wink at; and I am making love to the brandy-bottle, that I may stimulate my ideas, as unwilling to be roused from their dark cells of the brain as the spirit summoned by Lochiel, who implored at each response, "Leave, oh! leave me to repose."
If during the still hours of night, an Indian's mind is taken up with thoughts that cause sleep to pass from him, preventing every effort of Morpheus to lock him in fond embrace, he ascribes it to a spirit, which he calls Sa-go-ye-wat-ha. The impressions made are regarded as ominous of some important event, joyful or otherwise, according to the feelings awakened.
Another key sentence is uttered by Morpheus, the leader of the rebels. This is where the Matrix and reality diverge. Though a human who would experience both would find them indistinguishable objectively they are different. Under the spell of the Matrix, people feel as though time goes by. They have functioning watches. The sun rises and sets. Seasons change. They grow old and die.
I have some things to eat here, and you will take a good drink." "I'm immensely grateful, Rao Sahib. I believe you've saved my life. How did Hitchcock " "Oho! His hair was upon end. He rode to me in the middle of the night and woke me up in the arms of Morpheus. I was most truly concerned, Finlinson, so I came too. My head-priest he is very angry just now. We will go quick, Mister Hitchcock.
I need not say that neither of us slept, we had not a wink of sleep throughout the live-long night; nor would it have been possible for Morpheus himself to have slept under the circumstances.
But Morpheus coming to his aid, proves too many for the passions which agitate him; and he at length sinks into a profound slumber, not broken till the curassows send up their shrill cries as the crowing of Chanticleer to tell that another day is dawning upon the Chaco.
He soon found what he wanted, and repeated some strange words aloud. In an instant there fluttered round him a crowd of little sprites awaiting his bidding, but he motioned all aside except two one of whom he kept with him and the other he sent on a message to the house of Morpheus, the god of sleep. 'I come from Archimago the wizard, said the sprite when he reached his journey's end.
P. was tired and got on one bed, but I, displaying more caution, lifted the pillow before I trusted myself to the arms of Morpheus. My fore-sight was rewarded better than I deserved, and I had P. off his bed in the twinkling of an eye. As an explanation which his threatening attitude demanded at once, I silently lifted his pillow.
The country appeared one vast flat common, without hedges, or ditches, or trees, tiled farmhouses of equal size and similar form at even distances. All that the power of monotony can do to put a traveller to sleep is here tried; but the rattling and jolting on the paved roads set Morpheus and monotony both at defiance.
Their chamber, in which they invited several ladies to pass the night in armchairs, became immediately a palace of Morpheus. All quietly fell asleep. The curtains were left open, so that the Prince and Princess could be seen sleeping profoundly. They woke up once or twice for a moment. In the morning the Duke and Duchess rose early, their tears quite dried up.
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