The image of the past came back to him. He tried in vain to penetrate
the surrounding gloom. His hands were manacled, his legs also were
loaded with chains. The notion that his life might perhaps have been
cruelly spared in order that he might linger on in this horrible state
of conscious annihilation filled him with frenzy. He would have dashed
his fetters against his brow, but the chain restrained him. He flung
himself upon the damp and rugged ground. His fall disturbed a thousand
obscene things. He heard the quick glide of a serpent, the creeping
retreat of the clustering scorpions, and the swift escape of the dashing
rats. His mighty calamities seemed slight when compared with these petty
miseries. His great soul could not support him under these noisome and
degrading incidents. He sprang, in disgust, upon his feet, and stood
fearful of moving, lest every step should introduce him to some new
abomination. At length, exhausted nature was unable any longer to
sustain him. He groped his way to the rude seat, cut in the rocky wall,
which was his only accommodation. He put forth his hand. It touched the
slimy fur of some wild animal, that instantly sprang away, its
fiery eyes sparkling in the dark.
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