Merrick:
I know: there's come some dazzle in your eyes
From facing to the star; a lamp would do it.
Huff:
It will be that. Your sight, being so strained,
Is flashing of itself.
Sollers:
Say what you like.
There's a red flare out of the land beyond
Looking over the hills into our valley.
The thing's begun, 'tis certain. Go and see.
Vine:
I won't see that. I will stay here.
Sollers:
Ay, creep
Into your oven. You'll be cooler there. —
O my God, we'll all be coals in an hour!