You know how a native babbles and chatters over any work he has to do.

It says much for Laputa's iron hand that now everything was done in silence.

I heard the nickering of horses and the jolt of carts as they turned from the bush into the path.

There was the sound of hurried whispering, and now and then a sharp command.

And all the while I lay, staring at the moon and wondering if I was going to keep my reason.
If he who reads this doubts the discomfort of bonds let him try them for himself.