The remainder of the company in the cave began now to consult what steps it was proper for them to pursue. But the multitude of their past calamities, the pressure of the present misfortunes, and the uncertainty of what might happen to them, obscured the light, and weakened the force, of their reason. Each looked at the other, expecting him to say something; and being disappointed, turned his eyes to the ground; and raising them again, sighed, lightening a little his grief by this expression of it. At length Cnemon sat down on the ground; Theagenes threw himself on a rock, and Chariclea reclined upon him. In this posture they a long time resisted the attacks of sleep, desirous, if they could, to devise some scheme of action; but, overcome at last with grief and fatigue, they unwillingly yielded to the law of nature, and fell into a sweet slumber from the very excess of sorrow. Thus is the intelligent soul obliged sometimes to sympathise with the affections of the body. When sleep had for a little while just weighed their eye-lids down, the following vision appeared to Chariclea. A man with his hair in disorder, a downcast look, and bloody hands, seemed to come and thrust out her right eye with a sword. She instantly cried out, and called upon Theagenes. He was soon awakened, and felt for her uneasiness, though it was only in a dream. She lifted her hand to her face, as if in search of the part she had lost, and then exclaimed, "It was a dream; my eye is safe!"--"I am glad," replied Theagenes, "that those bright sunbeams are uninjured. But what has ailed you? how came you so terrified?"--"A savage and violent man," says she, "not fearing even your valour, attacked me with a sword as I lay at your feet; and, as I thought, deprived me of my right eye; and would that it had been a reality and not a vision!"--"Now Heaven forefend! why do you make so shocking a wish?"--"Because I would much rather lose one of my eyes than be under apprehensions for you; for I greatly fear that the dream regards you, whom I esteem as my eyes, my soul, my all."--"Cease," called out Cnemon (who had heard all that had passed, having been awakened by the first exclamation of Chariclea), "for I think the vision has another interpretation. Had you any parents living when you left Greece?"--"I had," she replied.--"Believe then now that your father is dead. I form my conjecture from hence: Our parents are the authors of our being; therefore they may properly enough in a dream be shadowed out under the similitude of eyes, the organs of light, which convey to us things visible."