JUDGE. You are right. There is not one memory that can bring light into this darkness. When I look at her who was the first love of my youth, I see nothing but a corpse. When I think of my sweet Amelia, there appears—a harlot. The little ones make faces at me like gutter-snipes. My court has become a pigsty; the vineyard, a rubbish-heap full of thistles; and the mausoleum—Oh, horrors!—an outhouse! When I think of the green woods, the leafage appears snuff-coloured and the trunks look bleached as mast tops. The blue river seems to flow out of a dung-heap and the blue arch above it looks like a smoky roof—Of the sun itself I can recall nothing but the name; and what was called the moon—the lamp that shed its light on bays and groves during the amorous nights of my youth—I can remember only as—no, I cannot remember it at all. But the words are left, although they have only sound without sense.—Love, wine, song! Flowers, children, happiness!—Don't the words sound pretty? And it is all that is left!—Love? What was it, anyhow?
OLD LADY. What was it?—Two cats on a back-yard fence.
JUDGE. [Sheepishly] Yes, that's it! That's what it was! Three dogs on a sidewalk. What a sweet recollection!
OLD LADY. [Pressing his hand] Yes, it is sweet!
JUDGE. [Looking at his watch] My watch has stopped. I am so hungry—and I am thirsty, too, and I long for a smoke. But I am also tired and want to sleep. All my desires are waking. They claw at me and hound me, but not one of them can I satisfy. We are lost! Lost, indeed!
OLD LADY. And I long for a cup of tea more than I can tell!
JUDGE. Hot green tea—that's just what I should like now—with a tiny drop of rum in it.
OLD LADY. No, not rum! I should prefer some cakes——
PRINCE. [Who has drawn near to listen] Sugared, of course? I fear you'll have to whistle for them.
OLD LADY. Oh, this dreadful language hurts me more than anything, else.