The Infinite Matrix | Michael Swanwick & Francisco Goya | The Sleep Of

Reason 22

07.25.02

the sleep of reason

by Michael Swanwick

with illustrations by

Francisco JosÉ de Goya y Lucientes

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Digital image © copyright

Davison Art Center,

Wesleyan University

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for any other use.

22. [Plate 72]

Witches and Nightmares

All that most disturbs you and me, keeps us awake at night, makes us

sweat with fear, and freezes our blood with dread, bothers witches not a

tittle. The world is flooded with nightmares in such number as to make an

honest man doubt the benevolence of Providence. But witches are neither

men nor honest, and they have no use for benevolence at all. They consort

with nightmares for a romp.

As for the nightmares themselves? well! Everybody knows what nightmares

want: The instantaneous gratification of their every lust, the sluttish

satisfaction of all their fantasies, and the immediate and slavish

indulgence of their every whim. In this, they are not unlike men.

There was a young witch who went dancing with nightmares. Light as a

feather she spun on the greensward at midnight in the heart of the

enchanted woods. All about her swirled the nightmares, clad in their

finest feathers and confident of the night's ultimate outcome. If they

were none of them particularly tall, they all made up for it by being

exceptionally thick.

"Take off your trousers," the young witch told her playmates, "and hang

them on yonder tree. Don't worry about your wallets! Think about my body

instead. Do as I say, and I'll give you a night that you'll never forget.

The witch was as good as her word. In less time than you'd like to think

it would take, she had the nightmares trussed up like Christmas turkeys,

gagged, helpless, covered with maple syrup, and dusted with stinging

nettles. Then off she strolled with the contents of their wallets. The

nightmares were chagrined. The pain, humiliation, and loss of cash were

bad enough. But it took so long for them to free themselves that by the

time they reported the incident, their credit cards had long ago been

maxed out!

You and I, of course, would not have been so easily gulled. We are

rational beings. No witch could make such fools of us!

To prove it, I have arranged for us a date with that exact same young

lady who so bamboozled the nightmares. We will go dancing tonight at

midnight on the greensward at the heart of the enchanted woods. And when

the young witch tosses her hair with abandon, and suggests we take off

our trousers, we will not. When she fixes us with those entrancing green

eyes and murmurs vague promises, we shall rest one hand lightly upon our

wallets. Though the promise of sex is in the air, we shall greet it with

honest skepticism. We'll think before we act. We'll keep our dignity at

all times. We will not be ruled by our dicks.

There's a first time for everything.

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This is the 22nd of 80 stories by Michael Swanwick written to accompany

Francisco Goya's Los Caprichos. For a listing of the most recently

available stories, go to The Sleep of Reason.

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