The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Although most scholars of erotic mind control fiction would agree that the Internet has provided us with a new Golden Age of hypnotic stories (in both senses of the word ‘hypnotic’), the increased attention paid to the fetish is also providing us with a wealth of information on the history of mind control erotica. Discoveries continue every day, from the use of hypnosis in silent films like ‘The Cabaret of Doctor Caligari’, to the infamous “burlesque hypnosis shows” of Germany in the 1920s, to the most recent and perhaps most exciting discovery of all—’The Slumber of Rosalind’, the lost erotic mind-control play by William Shakespeare.

Of course, rumors have abounded for years of the existence of lost Shakespearean plays, but scholars have had very little luck in locating them. ‘The Slumber of Rosalind’ was only discovered when a trove of lost documents was uncovered late last year, one relating to unproduced or unfinished work by Shakespeare. While this cache is of little use to scholars wishing to find ‘Love’s Labors Won’ or ‘Cardenio’, the erotic mind control community rejoiced to discover ‘The Slumber of Rosalind’ among its contents. Certainly, the fact that it was unproduced explains why it is one of the more obscure plays of Shakespeare’s lost canon; apart from a few mentions (which may be the source of inspiration for Neil Gaiman’s connection between the Bard and the King of Dreams in his timeless series of ‘Sandman’ graphic novels), few have heard of ‘The Slumber of Rosalind’ to look for it.

It is unknown why the Bard never mounted a production of ‘Slumber’, but many factors must be considered. The London theatre of the time used male actors to portray women, something that would have caused considerable difficulties to any production of the play; in addition, with the reputation of the theatre as encouraging licentiousness and lewd behavior, Shakespeare would have had difficulty getting the play past city authorities. (Indeed, it might be suspected that the reputation for the theatre’s encouraging of loose morals came from plays such as ‘Slumber’, or Christopher Marlowe’s play, ‘The Entrancing Bosoms’.)

Many also point out that Shakespeare acted in most, if not all of his own plays, and certainly playing the part of Morpheus, the God of Dreams, would have caused Shakespeare difficulties with his wife. However, others point to documentation that suggests Shakespeare put on private performances of the play regularly, casting women with whom he was romantically linked to (and usually omitting the parts of Ferdinand and Alfonso) which would seem to rule this notion out.

Unfortunately, the folio is undated, so we may never know exactly when in his career Shakespeare penned ‘The Slumber of Rosalind’; however, from the evident lack of quality when compared to his more famous works, we can assume that it was early in his career. Indeed, this may well be the play that caused Robert Greene to pen his famous criticism of Shakespeare’s early works.

But let us not judge this play; rather, let us let you discover the Bard’s lost work for yourself!

The Slumber of Rosalind

or

Sleep of the Just

Act I, Scene I

ROSALIND:

In truth, this maiden’s wits are like this wick,

Consumed by sun’s light, burn’d unto the nub,

Yet unlike candle’s wax, my wits return

When slumber dost turn weary night to day.

ROSALIND:

The moon holds court this night and shadows shrink,

Yet looks it on me not, for monarchs just

must hold their gaze from maidens fair and chaste

And chaste am I, ’til father once more turns

His gaze back to fair Spain, from shores past sight

And brings my groom, my husband soon to be.

What happy virtues married life must bring!

When I must turn from maid to mother, queen

Of my dominion, tiny though it be

A house, a hearth, and yet it be mine own,

As I be his, my husband’s, my own king.

Our wedding night must soon approach apace,

I wonder what we do when that night comes?

SANDMAN:

(aside) She asks a question, thinking only time

And priest’s wise blessing will the answer bring,

And yet, with black arts, soon I shall provide

The secret pleasures that in slumber dwell.

An answer she shall have, though not her king’s—

For am I not a king above him still?

ROSALIND:

Who’s there? In truth, I start at shadows still,

Though no more child I am, but still a maid.

The gate is barred, the windows closed. No man

Could find his way to maiden’s chambers here—

Yet wherefore do I hear that sound? A laugh?

Did I make jest, unknowing all the while?

SANDMAN:

A jest indeed, fair maid, for darkness black

As pitch has ne’er been obstacle to man

In finding maiden’s inner chambers, aye.

Indeed, the shadow’s cloak doth greatly aid

All men upon the path they ever seek.

ROSALIND:

Good sirrah! Know I not how you arrived!

For yonder door remains yet fastened tight!

SANDMAN:

Steel locks and bars can hold back slumber not,

When eyes grow weary, there I ever am.

When brother Hypnos visits maid or man,

I step with him, and bring the dreams of kings.

And queens and heroes too—aye! Queen you are,

And queen you soon will be of mine tonight.

For husband waits too far away to know

Of my dark magic and your dark delight.

ROSALIND:

You would not ravish me! You would not dare!

My father’s sword would seek its swift revenge

If I but whispered of your liberties

And spoke but once of e’en one visit here.

SANDMAN:

Ha! Foolish young and empty-headed maid

Yet not as lost of wit as thou shalt be

When my dream-sands do bring you to sweet sleep

And then not more of ravishment you’ll speak

But of sweet love instead, of sleepy need

For my hard prick, inside your maidenhead.

ROSALIND:

No! Ne’er shall I be brought to such a state

Where in mine own seduction shall I be

Accomplice willing, pand’rer of myself.

“Beware men’s lusts!” Larissa oft does say.

“Beware their tricks, their wiles, their secret schemes!

Their plans to take your virtue!” This I’ll do!

My wits I’ll pit ’gainst yours—

ROSALIND:

—my wits? What wits?

The dark of sleep doth beckon without cease.

And I, a feeble-minded, weary maid

Can fight it not, but ever deeper fall

Into sweet slumber, mindless, blank and deep.

SANDMAN:

Fair maiden, in this, my enchanted sleep

Your eyes can open, yet disturb it not

For sleep shall hold you, even when you wake

And e’en in waking, slumber shall you still.

ROSALIND:

A miracle it is, though I can see,

And yet I see you still through sleep’s soft haze

And as it is a dream, I dream of you

With lost will, blank thoughts and my mind quite ’mazed.

SANDMAN:

And in this dreamy waking slumber, eyes

Must ever see what dream-kings wish them see

And so upon my flesh, you soon will gaze

And yet, unseeing and unthinking be.

SANDMAN:

Gaze now, sweet Rosalind, upon my cock,

Yet crows it not, more like a serpent’s hiss

(aside) Yet serpent hisses I should never hear—

The groundlings’ view is better than the gods.

ROSALIND:

A serpent’s hiss? Then ’tis a snake I see?

SANDMAN:

A mighty serpent, stirring ’twixt my thighs.

Its one-eyed stare shall hypnotize you more

Shall hold you still, in mind and body too,

So as to make you ready for its strike.

See now, young maiden, how its gaze doth seem

So terrible, yet wonderful and deep?

ROSALIND:

Your words ring true, aye, and they ever have,

Though memory plays false, I now care not.

I must stare deep in snake’s eye and obey,

It sways and stiffens, calling me to heel.

SANDMAN:

The serpent’s eye compels you now to shed

Your maiden’s garments, soon you’ll need them not

When serpent strikes deep, seeking maiden’s warmth

Yet, when he finds it, maidenhood’s forgot.

ROSALIND:

Oh! I cry out, for maiden’s pain is sharp

And yet, the pleasant slumber dulls the pain

And turns it to dream’s bliss as maiden’s womb

Becomes the home of dream-god’s thrusting cock.

SANDMAN:

This maiden’s womb is tight, and yet it yields

And yet it clenches, sweetly tighter still

A pleasant trap, to capture dream-god’s prick

Or else a hole below the one I sought?

ROSALIND:

(aside) I know not what he means—there is but one

Where maidenhood resides between my thighs

Yet stirring notions seem to say that—oh!

Can things go in there, too, as well as out?

SANDMAN:

That hole I’ll stretch another time, perhaps.

This one now offers pleasures great enough

Indeed, it soon will force my cock to spend

And then to deeper sleep you’ll fall, my dear.

ROSALIND:

I hear his words and know I must obey,

The dreamy bliss my mind cannot contain,

Of fucking, and of following his will

Twin pleasures, which in dreams will e’er remain.

SANDMAN:

My serpent’s venom pours into your womb

And overtops our pleasures, yours and mine

The climax of this scene betwixt us two

And of our tryst twixt mortal and divine.

Act I, Scene II

LARISSA:

Awake, fair Rosalind, the sun is high!

And morning’s light doth shine in from the east!

How doth my maiden slumber overnight?

ROSALIND:

I dreamed...but no, I must have dreamed it false.

For...no, a dream as that, it cannot be!

A dark and mighty king of dreams, in here?

A spell, which seems to hang upon me still?

And yet, between my thighs, I sense it true.

A maid I am, yet maiden now am not.

LARISSA:

What? Is it true? You, ravished in the night?

Oh, curse this brightly-lit yet darkling day

For doomed I am, cast out into the world

If failed I am, at task of chaperone.

ROSALIND:

Oh, no! Sweet friend Larissa, say not so!

For chaperone you are, yet friend you be!

And friends have I but few, indeed but one,

’Tis you, Larissa, soulmate dear and true.

LARISSA:

My soulmate speaks sweet words, yet dreams dark deeds

Her midnight tryst imperils all my dreams.

Her lusts for flesh doom me as well as her,

For spoiled brides fetch dowries not in Spain.

ROSALIND:

Oh, please, Larissa! Doubt not my pure heart!

’Twas dark and dreamy magic brought me low

And then debased my virtues chaste and true

Until my legs could never help but part.

LARISSA:

’Twas magic, say you? Should another girl

But part her lips (and legs) to gape such words

Then never should I put a stock in truth

And yet, ’tis none but fairest Rosalind

Whose words (and deeds) have e’er been truthful yet.

ROSALIND:

Oh, what’s the use! You’ll e’er believe me not,

And strumpet-slut of gods I’ll ever be

To their dark uses, I’ll be ever put

And of their darkest spells, I’ll ne’er be free!

LARISSA:

No! Dearest Rosalind, please tremble not!

Your secret fears we’ll fight, and gods we’ll duel!

This dream-god we shall rout, and put to flight

Before your father turns his steed for home.

Your maiden’s loss shall e’er our secret be,

But fight we must, or ne’er will you be free.

ROSALIND:

How? Sweet Larissa, how to fight a god

With darkest spells, and tricks that still the mind?

LARISSA:

The ’Gypcian queen, I’ll seek and then shall find!

Her sorceries I’ll borrow as my own!

And ’gainst that borrowed magic, dream-gods quake

And seek a safer prey, tomorrow night.

ROSALIND:

Oh, all my mind is bent to wish her well

And yet my ever trait’rous private parts

Do wish her naught but failure, so that I

may once again fall under dream-god’s arts.

Act II, Scene I

JOSEPHINE:

The cards do whisper tales of fortunes grand,

And visitors who seek my help and aid.

The crystal’s gaze shows beauty, ent’ring soon,

To ask for help—not for her, but a maid.

I see all things, now and what must soon be

And pleased, I am, to see the grand design

For power, fortune, and lusts slaked I see,

And though the skein is tangled, vict’ry’s mine.

LARISSA:

Are you the one that ’Gypcians call the seer?

The secret wizardess named Josephine?

JOSEPHINE:

Who is this girl who dares to enter here?

What gall she has, to question ’Gypcian queen?

LARISSA:

If seer you are, then you my name must know,

If not, then I need not your help at all,

For naught but sorceress can help my friend,

And charlatans would shrink from that great task.

JOSEPHINE:

Your bravery is greater than your wit,

Larissa, chaperone of Rosalind,

If you would seek to sting my pride, a hit

you’ve scored, but dangerous your gambit plays.

A seer’s pow’rs you trifle with, at risk

Of life, and mind, and e’en immortal soul,

For such a thing, you’d make a pretty pet,

Or else, perhaps, a plaything for a troll.

LARISSA:

I care not for my own life, but for hers,

Your penalty, you may exact at will,

Yet please, I beg you, save fair Rosalind!

The Sandman, Morpheus, perils her still!

JOSEPHINE:

You say you’ll pay most any price I name?

LARISSA:

(aside) I like this not, I fear this seer’s pow’r,

And predatory gleam within her eyes,

Yet still, I have no choice, the hour grows late,

and Rosalind cannot but slumber soon.

JOSEPHINE:

I wait upon your answer, chaperone.

LARISSA:

Yes! Yes! Though damned I be, help Rosalind!

JOSEPHINE:

Then very well. ’Tis sleep she fears, and in

That sleep a watch you’ll keep, ’till dawn does break.

I have a potion, brewed from Moorish beans,

Which all night through, will help you stay awake.

LARISSA:

What is this bright’ning tingle in my thoughts?

What wond’rous drink have Moors and Muslims brewed,

That sets my mind to racing, casts out sleep,

And brings new vigor to my weary limbs!

JOSEPHINE:

They call it kahve in the Moorish lands,

A magic drink it is, expelling sleep,

Yet not all dreams are by sleep caused, my dear,

Now lose your thoughts within my crystal sphere!

LARISSA:

The crystal draws my gaze into its depths,

My will is lost, my mind a whirling haze,

A spinning spiral, sinking ever down,

Until my thoughts are bent to naught but gaze.

And in that gazing trance I must obey

The voice of ’Gypcian queen with ’Gypcian crown.

JOSEPHINE:

Good girl, Larissa, sink now deeper still,

More thoughts you lose now, e’en more mindless yet,

As soon your mind deserts you, blank of will,

As even thoughts of thinking you forget.

LARISSA:

I must obey, my mind’s an empty shell,

A shell to fill with Josephine’s commands,

As ever deeper sink I in her spell,

And nevermore resist I her demands.

JOSEPHINE:

Good girl! And now, your thoughts are but one word,

Repeat it for me, that I know you know.

LARISSA:

Obey, obey, obey, obey, obey,

Obey, obey, obey, obey, obey,

Obey, obey, obey, obey, obey,

Obey, obey, obey, obey, obey.

JOSEPHINE:

You please your Mistress, now you’ll please her more,

Doff all your clothes, your hidden flesh reveal,

As I doff mine, to Sapphic pleasures share,

Our bodies locked in intertwining lust.

LARISSA:

Oh, this is pleasure that I never dreamt!

The touch of woman’s hands fills me with joy!

I feared the price for seer’s gifts and yet,

Her touch is sweeter than that of a boy!

She bids me now to taste her ’Gypcian cunt,

The scent is sweet and makes me swoon with bliss,

I’d speak soon of the taste but soon I fear,

My tongue will be too busy soon to speak.

JOSEPHINE:

Then I shall take up blissful chorus now!

Such joy it is, your head between my thighs,

My woman’s juices flow upon your chin,

The very air is rent now with my sighs!

Your gifted tongue is perfect, my sweet slave!

Once Rosalind is saved, I’ll take my due,

I’ll take you as my own, my silky pet,

And who knows? Perhaps sweet Rosalind too.

Act II, Scene II.

ROSALIND:

Oh gentle moon, pray tell, where is my aid?

Where can my friend and snow-white knightess be?

For sleep must beckon soon, and dream-gods come

And if I’m not helped, come inside of me.

ROSALIND:

Oh! Sweet Larissa, thank the gods you’ve come!

All save the god whose spells bring me to ill,

but pray tell, wherefore have the hours gone?

How went the visit with the ’Gypcian queen?

LARISSA:

(aside) Within my mind it sleeps for now, as though

To poison me with dreamy Sapphic bliss,

And turn my mind against sweet Rosalind,

To draw her into slavery’s embrace.

(To Rosalind) The travel took me longer than I knew,

And Josephine took many hours of pleas,

Before she gave to me the Moorish drink,

That from the bonds of sleep has set me free.

ROSALIND:

Then you can watch, and ne’er the dream-god fear?

The Sandman’s visits dust not now your eyes?

LARISSA:

Indeed! He will not put me in his thrall,

And I’ll not let him slip between your thighs!

SANDMAN:

Oh! ’Tis a challenge to my might I hear,

From maids with all the bravery of men,

Yet in betwixt their thighs, there’s nothing there,

Or so I thought. Perhaps I’ll check again.

ROSALIND:

This ev’ning past, you conquered me with sleep,

But now my champion’s here, to keep me safe!

Your darkling arts will never conquer her,

Your dream-sands never place her in your thrall.

SANDMAN:

The Moorish drink? You think it conquers sleep?

It but delays it, holds it off a while!

My dust shall pour a world of slumber’s need

Into her eyes, until they fall and close.

The kahve’s power cannot stand ’gainst mine,

Here! Have a taste of dream-god’s dreaming sands!

LARISSA:

Sweet Rosalind has fallen into trance,

But I remain awake, thanks to the queen

(aside) Whose secret power rules my secret heart

And who I evermore now must obey.

SANDMAN:

What is this? Wake you still? Your stubborn eyes,

Though dark and heavy, shadowed now with sleep,

Fall not, close not, but merely flutter down,

As though to weights attached they now must be.

Sleep, gentle maid, your god commands it so!

And mortal will cannot a god resist!

LARISSA:

Yet, though my mind is filled with sleepy fog,

My waking mind continues to persist.

SANDMAN:

Then more dream-sand into your eyes I’ll blow,

Until your world is filled with need for sleep,

And sleep you must, your mind is dark and still,

A cage of slumber will your thoughts all keep.

LARISSA:

Oh, endless need for sleep now haunts my soul!

My eyes are only open now in name!

My mind grows weary, and my thoughts grow still,

Yet still I’ll save my Rosalind from shame!

I’ll fight the god with aid of Moorish drink,

And face him down to find another girl,

Although my thoughts grow difficult to think,

And all my mind becomes a hazy whirl.

SANDMAN:

The Moorish drink is all but spent, I think,

And yet, in sleepy haze, Larissa’s eyes

Are sweeter yet than Rosalind’s and I

Now find my member stirring not for her,

But for Larissa, vacant, soft and blank,

There’d be another night for Rosalind,

But sweet Larissa’s maidenhood I’ll take.

LARISSA:

Now I am overcome! My mind is gone!

This feels so strange, and yet familiar too!

My mindless mind recalls the need for sex,

A need fulfilled, yet always made anew!

Oh, sad it is, that mortals ever be

The pawns of ’Gypcian queens and lustful gods,

Our minds are but their toys, it is cruel fate,

And yet, the pleasures make up for the pains.

SANDMAN:

And I’ll have pleasures more to give to you,

I’ll have a dream-god’s cock inside your cunt,

Should you but slip your clothes off, which you’ll do,

With practiced ease, I see! How good to know!

SANDMAN:

Sweet flesh of practiced woman, what a treat

For Morpheus’ stiff cock to now enfold

Within a cunny, slick and wet with heat,

As though an endless need has taken hold.

Your maidenhood is not as tight as hers,

But tight enough it is for dream-god’s cock,

Oh! Oh! This fucking’s good enough, I think!

I’ll spend my seed, and take my leave at once.

LARISSA:

Between my thighs, there’s pleasure, true, but still

My queen’s slick fingers felt beyond compare

The dream-god’s spell is sweet, but ’Gypcian seers

Make even better stirrings ’twixt my thighs.

Oh, would I were not lost within his spell!

Sweet Rosalind I’d take, and hold, and fuck!

But I must drift yet deeper into sleep,

Still lusty, yet without a lover’s luck.

Act III, Scene I.

LARISSA:

Fair Josephine, you spoke with serpent’s tongue!

Your Moorish drink could not ’gainst dream-god hold!

His cock did penetrate my cunt this time,

And I awoke ’twixt Rosalind’s damp sheets!

JOSEPHINE:

And speaking of a tongue, slave, now hold yours,

Your tone forgets your place between my legs,

Now hear my words, and blank and mindless go,

And speak of last night with a slave’s respect.

LARISSA:

Yes, Mistress, I must blank and mindless go,

But still I must admit, the kahve failed,

The more I woke, the more he made me sleep,

Until I sank beneath the waves of dream.

Then as he saw my blank and sleepy form,

Consumed was he with lust for my hot cunt,

And then he used me, even as did you,

Save cock instead of fingers did he thrust.

JOSEPHINE:

Oh, this dire insult never shall I stand!

A ’Gypcian queen’s wrath furious shall be!

Fair Rosalind I saw as but a pawn,

But sweet Larissa is my property!

Now, Sandman, summon all your darksome arts,

’Tis Josephine you battle with tonight!

And storm and shadow shall I bring to bear,

And all the blazing elemental might!

The dream-god shall his poaching cock regret,

His godly strutting pride shall I depose,

And then, fair Rosalind will be my slave,

A prize, for crushing all whom I oppose.

LARISSA:

Oh, though I cannot help but love thee, Queen,

Yet still I fear your dark and awesome ire!

Please, quell this strumpet’s fears and tell this slut,

There’s more to you than fury and desire!

JOSEPHINE:

Fear not, Larissa, though I wax with wroth

Against the foolish god who crossed my will,

Yet still to you a pleasure-queen I am,

A gentle, sweet, and loving mistress still.

Your hot and needy cunny I still love,

My ownership of you is no mere trick,

Your nights as mine will filled with pleasure be,

Now fall upon your knees and pussy-lick.

JOSEPHINE:

Oh, trained and disc’plined tongue, now find my clit!

For yet the sun hangs heavy in the sky,

And many hours yet ’fore dream-god’s vis’t,

So while them all away, ’twixt Mistress’ thighs.

Act III, Scene II.

ROSALIND:

So little seems to seem to me of sense,

The world seems topsy-turvy in its course,

As sweet Larissa vanishes again,

Yet last night saved me, though I know not how.

Alas! The hour groweth late again,

And dream-god soon will find me here alone,

Has sweet Larissa gained more Moorish drink?

Or will I be the strumpet of a god?

ROSALIND:

Oh, sweet relief! ’Tis all my saviors now!

Larissa, and this Josephine must be,

The ’Gypcian queen Larissa once described,

Whose kahve saved my maidenhood before.

LARISSA:

’Twas not the kahve saved your sleeping cunt,

But mine, my cunny plowed by dream-god’s cock,

But weep you not, I’ve brought the ’Gypcian queen,

To test her might against the dream-god’s sand.

JOSEPHINE:

This dream-god’s spent his last night in your bed,

And his last seed within your woman’s womb,

I swear, tonight he’ll face a ’Gypcian’s wrath,

And flee, or else sleep in a ’Gypcian’s tomb.

SANDMAN:

Bold words, for one who yet a mortal is,

And has a mortal’s needs, like that of sleep,

Your Moorish drink will save you not, sweet queen,

As of my dream-sands, soon you will drink deep.

JOSEPHINE:

Think you that I came here so unprepared?

A mortal I may be, but not a fool!

My magic does the storm and winds command,

And blows aside your dust, your only tool!

A captive of the winds, your dream-dust now,

And blows it where a queen desires, not you,

The dream-god’s sand now seeks the dream-god’s eyes,

And arrow-sharp, my wind flies ever true!

SANDMAN:

My eyes! My dream-sand stings me now with sleep!

The ’Gypcian seer’s ploy undoes my plans!

Though stronger is my might than mortal’s spells,

Yet stronger than my strength are my own sands!

Her cunning used my force ’gainst mine own self,

Her tricks chained me with steel-hard, self-forged bands,

Now poisoned with my own dream-dust I fall,

Into an endless trance at her commands!

JOSEPHINE:

Fear not, my dream-god, or at least not much,

Larissa has begged me to mercy be,

And merciful am I, to all my slaves,

And now you cannot help but obey me.

Your mind is now my toy, but as wrath fades,

I see a use for you, my humble pet,

Though you will ne’er my servants fuck again,

I’ll find you ways to feel sweet pleasure yet.

ROSALIND:

Your servants? Nay, we are but gentle friends!

JOSEPHINE:

And friends must always look into friends’ eyes,

And there, on seeing endless swooning depths,

Must sink, and fall, and drift, and never rise.

Your mind goes blank now, gentle Rosalind,

Your will sleeps in my will, and you must kneel

To pleasure me with tongue and fingers slick

And learn the ways to sweetly pussy-lick.

ROSALIND:

I know not why I cannot but obey,

But ever shall I be a pawn, it seems,

A slut, a strumpet girl, a mindless slave,

And yet, is this a burden? Say I no!

A slave is filled with blank and empty bliss!

In slavery I find eternal joy,

Whether to ’Gypcian girl or dream-god boy.

FERDINAND:

Sweet Rosalind, I bring you back a groom—

What madness do I see beneath my roof?

A ’Gypcian strumpet straddling my girl,

And sweet Larissa, gazing at it all?

ALFONSO:

This sapphic slut was once to be my bride?

A mouth that kissed a cunt shall ne’er kiss mine!

(aside) Though in my secret heart I want to watch

and stroke my prick as sapphic lust unfolds.

FERDINAND:

Indeed! My daughter’s evermore disowned—

Yet why do ’Gypcian eyes enthrall me so?

I cannot look away, I must obey,

I see now that this sapphic tryst must be.

From heaven has our ’Gypcian mistress come,

And shall her slighest whims now be obeyed.

ALFONSO:

Indeed! I see the depths of her eyes too,

And her slave I become—and yet such bliss!

A bride I’ll take who loves both cock and cunt,

And we shall both serve a ’Gypcian mistress.

SANDMAN:

Though master I was and slave I’ve become,

Yet all’s well that ends well when cocks and cunts cum.