BULLER.
I am.
NORTH.
You are mistaken. It is no broad black forest—it is mere gloom—shadow that in a minute will pass away, though now seeming steadfast as the woods.
BULLER.
I could swear it is a forest.
NORTH.
Swear not at all. Shut your eyes. Open them. Where now your wood?
BULLER.
Most extraordinary ocular deception.