There he saw a man of about forty, completely
brutalized by orgies of every description, and in a
condition that left little or nothing to be done. The
sickness that had afflicted him for so many years was simply
perpetual drunkenness. The royal sot had nearly lost all
consciousness, and all the ammonia in the world would
not have set him on his feet again.
His favorites and the women kept on bended knees
during this solemn visit. By means of a few drops of
powerful cordial, the doctor for a moment reanimated the
imbruted carcass that lay before him. The sultan stirred,
and, for a dead body that had given no sign whatever of
life for several hours previously, this symptom was
received with a tremendous repetition of shouts and cries
in the doctor's honor.
The latter, who had seen enough of it by this time, by a
rapid motion put aside his too demonstrative admirers
and went out of the palace, directing his steps immediately
toward the balloon, for it was now six o'clock in the evening.
Joe, during his absence, had been quietly waiting at
the foot of the ladder, where the crowd paid him their
most humble respects. Like a genuine son of the moon,
he let them keep on. For a divinity, he had the air of a
very clever sort of fellow, by no means proud, nay, even
pleasingly familiar with the young negresses, who seemed
never to tire of looking at him.
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