“Every month they increase and diminish with the moon. I generally suffer most at its first appearance. My disease then abates and seems to change its symptoms: my skin grows dry and white, and I feel nearly well. But my malady would be endurable but for the terrible wakefulness it produces.”
“What! does even sleep abandon you?”
“Ah! sir, the sleepless, sleepless nights! You have no idea how long and sad they are when I cannot get a moment’s sleep, and my mind dwells on my frightful situation—with no hope for the future. No! no one could realize it. My restlessness increases
as the night advances, and, when nearly at an end, my nervousness is almost unendurable: my mind is confused. I experience an extraordinary sensation that never comes over me but at such sad moments. Sometimes it seems as if an irresistible power was drawing me down into a bottomless gulf: sometimes I see black clouds before my eyes, but while I am examining them they cross each other with the quickness of lightning, they grow larger as they approach, and then look like mountains ready to overwhelm me with their weight. At other times, I behold clouds issuing from the earth beneath me like swelling waves, which rise one above the other and threaten to engulf me; and, when I wish to rise in order to throw off these sensations, I feel chained down by some invisible force that renders me powerless. You will perhaps think these are dreams; but you are mistaken. I am really awake. I see all this again and again, and with a sensation of horror that surpasses all my other sufferings.”
“It is possible you are feverish during these long, sleepless nights, and this, perhaps, causes a kind of delirium.”
“You think this may be the result of fever? Ah! I wish it might be true. Until now I have feared these visions were symptoms of madness, and I acknowledge this greatly worried me. Would to God they were the effects of fever!”
“Your case inspires me with a lively interest. I acknowledge that I had never imagined anything like your situation. I suppose, however, it was less sad when your sister was living.”
“God alone knows what a loss her death was to me. But are you not afraid to come so near me? Sit down there on that rock, and I will
conceal myself beneath the vines, so we can talk without seeing each other.”
“Why so? No, you shall not leave me. Come nearer.” In saying these words the traveller involuntarily put out his hand to take the Leper’s, but the latter hastily withdrew his.