Like the drunkard sprawled in the gutter, staring with bleary eyes at the star of February in the pallid western sky.
And his eyes are like those of a little child and there is surprise in them.
So....
The First Watcher: So what?
The Third Watcher: Let him alone, he is choking.
The Fifth Watcher: I tell you that you are captives who cannot be delivered.
And the stone is sealed above you; it is sealed and firmly cemented and bound with iron bands.
We are shut in this secret place with a flickering lamp in our midst.
Shall I not be permitted to spit against the walls of my prison?
And after that I shall drop my head on my breast and my heart will break of sorrow.