bloom
(Quickly.) Yes, yes. You mean that I… Sleep reveals the worst side of everyone, children perhaps excepted. I know I fell out of my bed or rather was pushed Steel wine is said to cure snoring. For the rest there is that English invention, pamphlet of which I received some days ago, incorrectly addressed. It claims to afford a noiseless inoffensive vent. (He sighs.) ’Twas ever thus. Frailty, thy name is marriage.
the nymph
(Her fingers in her ears.) And words. They are not in my dictionary.
bloom
You understood them?
the yews
Ssh.
the nymph
(Covers her face with her hand.) What have I not seen in that chamber? What must my eyes look down on?
bloom
(Apologetically.) I know. Soiled personal linen, wrong side up with care. The quoits are loose. From Gibraltar by long sea, long ago.
the nymph
(Bends her head.) Worse! Worse!
bloom
(Reflects precautiously.) That antiquated commode. It wasn’t her weight. She scaled just eleven stone nine. She put on nine pounds after weaning. It was a crack and want of glue. Eh? And that absurd orangekeyed utensil which has only one handle.
the waterfall
Poulaphouca Poulaphouca
Poulaphouca Poulaphouca.
the yews
(Mingling their boughs.) Listen. Whisper. She is right, our sister. We grew by Poulaphouca waterfall. We gave shade on languorous summer days.
