I go to bed, I turn round, I turn back, I have no pain, but I have no sleep either.

I call, I take a book, I shut it up.

Day comes, I get up, I go to the window.

It strikes four, five, six; I go to bed again, I doze till seven, I get up at eight, I sit down to table at twelve, to no purpose, as yesterday.

I lay myself down in my bed again in the evening, to no purpose, as the night before.