‘My lord!’
‘Rouse me at the second watch. Good night, boy.’
‘Good night, my lord.’
‘Pharez! Be sure you rouse me at the second watch. Think you it wants three hours to dawn?’
‘About three hours, my lord.’
‘Well! at the second watch, remember; good night.’
‘It is the second watch, my lord.’
‘So soon! Have I slept? I feel fresh as an eagle. Call Scherirah, boy.’
‘‘Tis strange I never dream now. Before my flight my sleep was ever troubled. Say what they like, man is made for action. My life is now harmonious, and sleep has now become what nature willed it, a solace, not a contest. Before, it was a struggle of dark passions and bright dreams, in whose creative fancy and fair vision my soul sought refuge from the dreary bale of daily reality.
‘I will withdraw the curtains of my tent. O most majestic vision! And have I raised this host? Over the wide plain, far as my eye can range, their snowy tents studding the purple landscape, embattled legions gather round their flags to struggle for my fate. It is the agony of Asia.