Dr. F. My lord, it is the will of this tribunal which leads me here, not mine.
Judge. Can you place that man in the mesmeric sleep?
Dr. F. I can. But he is strong-willed, and the task may be hard.
Mat. No, no! I have no fear. [Shudders; aside.] Matthis, if you fall asleep you will be lost!
Dr. F. [to Matthis]. I will that you should sleep! [Makes magnetic passes while looking at Matthis.]
Mat. No, no!
Dr. F. It is my will. He sleeps. What must I ask?
Judge. What he did on Christmas Eve, fifteen years ago.
Dr. F. I command you to be on the night of December the four-and-twentieth, year 1853.
Mat. [softly]. Yes.