sday? Did you
hear no tumult near? no shout of victory? no trampling of horses?
Where is Char--the Count, I would say?

SERVANT. I know not, my lord.

FRANCIS. You know not? And are you too one of his gang? I'll tread
your villain's heart out through your ribs for that infernal "I know
not!" Begone, fetch the minister!

SERVANT. My lord!

FRANCIS. What! Do you grumble? Do you demur? (Exit servant hastily.)
Do my very slaves conspire against me? Heaven, earth, and hell--all
conspire against me!

DANIEL (returns with a lighted candle). My lord!

FRANCIS. Who said I trembled? No!--'twas but a dream. The dead still
rest in their graves! Tremble! or pale? No, no! I am calm--quite
tranquil.

DANIEL. You are as pale as death, my lord; your voice is weak and
faltering.

FRANCIS. I am somewhat feverish. When the minister comes be sure you
say I am in a fever. Say that I intend to be bled in the morning.

DANIEL. Shall I give you some drops of the balsam of life on sugar?

FRANCIS. Yes, balsam of life on sugar! The minister will not be here
just yet. My voice is weak and faltering. Give me of the balsam of
life on sugar!

DANIEL. Let me have the keys, I will go down to the closet and get it.

FRANCIS. No! no! no! Stay!--or I will go with you. You see I must not
be left alone! How easily I might, you see--faint--if I should be left
alone. Never mind, never mind! It will pass off--you must not leave
me.

DANIEL. Indeed, Sir, you are ill, very ill.

FRANCIS. Yes, just so, just so, nothing more. And illness, you know,
bewilders the brain, and breeds strange and maddening dreams. What
signify dreams? Dreams come from the stomach and cannot signify
anything. Is it not so, Daniel? I had a very comical dream just now.
(He sinks down fainting.)

DANIEL. Oh, merciful heaven! what is this? George!--Conrad!
Sebastian! Martin! Give but some sign of life! (Shaking him.) Oh, the
Blessed Virgin! Oh, Joseph! Keep but your reason! They will say I
have murdered him! Lord have mercy upon me!

FRANCIS (confused). Avaunt!--avaunt!--why dost thou glare upon me thus,
thou horrible spectre? The time for the resurrection of the dead is not
yet come.

DANIEL. Merciful heavens! he has lost his senses.

FRANCIS (recovering himself gradually). Where am I? You here, Daniel?
What have I said? Heed it not. I have told a lie, whatever I said.
Come, help me up! 'T was only a fit of delirium--because--because--I
have not finished my night'