[He taps Yunglangtsi’s head with his fan.
Yunglangtsi snores softly.
Nau. O starry Oracles! Did you hear that?
[Yunglangtsi snores again.
New. Ugh! When are the sanguinary Event and the starry Oracle going to pay us our back wages, that’s what I want to know?
Hiti. Look not to Heaven to make or mar
Your fortunes, ye that toil!
Who hung his pot upon a star,
His broth forgot to boil.
[He gets up and begins to roam round.
Nau. Oh, poetry!