[Pulls off several layers at once.
What an enormous number of swathings!
Is not the kernel soon coming to light?
[Pulls the whole onion to pieces.
I’m blest if it is! To the innermost centre,
It’s nothing but swathings—each smaller and smaller.—
Nature is witty!
[Throws the fragments away.
The devil take brooding!
If one goes about thinking, one’s apt to stumble.