Art Painting

Art Painting
The poor mother's interruptions having ceased, and the prince's pains having gradually lost their power to disturb him, utter weariness at last sealed his eyes in a profound and restful sleep. Hour after hour slipped away, and still he slept like the dead. Thus four or five hours passed. Then his stupor began to lighten. Presently, while half asleep and half awake, he murmured:
"Sir William!"
After a moment:
"Ho, Sir William Herbert! Hie thee hither, and list to the strangest dream that ever.... Sir William! Dost hear? Man, I did think me changed to a pauper, and... Ho there! Guards! Sir William! What! is there no groom of the chamber in waiting? Alack it shall go hard with-"
"What aileth thee?" asked a whisper near him. "Who art thou calling?"
"Sir William Herbert. Who art thou?"
"I? Who should I be, but thy sister Nan? Oh, Tom, I had forgot! Tbou"rt mad yet-poor lad thou"rt mad yet, would I had never woke to know it again! But, prithee, master thy tongue, lest we be all beaten till we die!"