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Rh

Yes, father; he hath slept, I guess, since midnight.

How know'st thou this?

I've listen'd at his door From time to time, and nought have heard within But a deep silence, once or twice broke faintly By slow-heaved breathings, as of heavy sleep.

So sound asleep, and such a morn to wake to!

Nay, they who sleep before their day of doom Sleep often thus,—a deathlike, dreamless sleep. (Speaking as he goes off.) I well remember one, who, on the morn [Exeunt.

Still fast asleep: it grieves my soul to wake him. No trace of trouble on his face! He lies