—Everything is shaking as in a fever—the people, the chair, the ceiling.
—Everything is floating and rocking as on waves.
—Do you hear a noise? I hear a kind of noise, as if an iron wheel were rumbling, or stones falling from a mountain, large stones coming down like rain.
—It's the ringing in your ears.
—It's the tingling of your blood. I feel my blood. It flows heavy through my veins, thick, thick, black, smelling of rum. And when it gets to my heart, it all falls down, and it's terrible.
—It seems to me I see flashes of lightning.
—I see huge, red woodpiles and people burning on them. It's disgusting to smell the roasting flesh.
—Dark shadows circle around the piles. They are drunk, the shadows are. Hey, invite me! I'll dance with you.
—Oh my! Oh my!
—I am happy, too. Who will laugh with me? Nobody. So I'll laugh by myself. (He laughs)