Chapter 32. The Waking
When Franz returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a dream. He
thought himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray of sunlight in pity
scarcely penetrated. He stretched forth his hand, and touched stone; he
rose to his seat, and found himself lying on his bournous in a bed of
dry heather, very soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled; and as if
the statues had been but shadows from the tomb, they had vanished at his
waking.
He advanced several paces towards the point whence the light came, and
to all the excitement of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He
found that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and through a
kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky. The air and water were
shining in the beams of the morning sun; on t
