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Wynne, Ellis, 1671-1734

"The Visions of the Sleeping Bard"

Thus
engaged, I had just lain down, and was half-asleep, when I felt a heavy
weight stealthily creeping over me, from head to heel, so that I could
not move a finger--my tongue only was unbound. I perceived, methought, a
man upon my chest, and above him, a woman. After eyeing him carefully I
recognised by his strong odours, dewy locks and blear eyes, that the man
was no other than my good Master Sleep. "I pray you, sir," cried I,
squeaking, "what have I done to you that you bring that witch here to
torment me?" "Hush," said he, "it is only my sister Nightmare; we twain
are going to pay our brother Death {43b} a visit, and want a third to
accompany us, and lest thou shouldst resist we came upon thee, just as he
does, unawares. Consequently come thou must, willy-nilly." "Alas," I
cried, "must I die?" "Nay," said Nightmare, "we will spare thee this
time." "But an't please you," said I, "your brother Death has never
spared anyone yet who came beneath his stroke--he who wrestled with the
Lord of Life himself, though it was little he gained by that contest."
Nightmare, at that word, rose up angrily and departed.


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