AUNT IDA. (_Wildly. Stands rigidly, staring at_ SMITH) Trinkets!! A message!! (_During the following speech_, AUNT IDA _gradually becomes more and more hysterical, culminating in a series of wild shrieks of hysterical laughter and grotesque movements of her arms and body_.) SMITH. A long message. He used to lie in his sickbed, gazing across the thatched roofs of Berbera to the Arab dhows, riding at their anchors in the sea, and---- (AUNT IDA, _by now, is shrieking wildly and waving her arms above_. MADGE _runs frightened across the_ L. _of_ AUNT IDA _and_ PHYLLIS _runs down from fender to_ R. _of_ AUNT IDA, _and together they help her into chair to_ L. _of table_ R. TARVER _and_ FARADAY _look up suddenly, startled_. SMITH _goes up_ L.C., _concealing laughter_. PHYLLIS _stands_ R. _of chair below sofa, trying to hold_ AUNT IDA'S _hand_. EVELYN _runs excitedly and aimlessly about, looking for smelling salts_. FARADAY _runs up and down extreme_ L., _waving his arms_. MADGE _above chair, fanning_ AUNT IDA. TARVER C., _fanning_ AUNT IDA _with atlas. He kneels and fans her more vigorously. They all talk excitedly to each other, such as, "What has happened to your Aunt Ida?" "God bless my soul, can't you do something for your aunt?" "She is having a fit," "Go for a doctor," "Fan her, fan her," "Get some water," etc., etc. During all this_, AUNT IDA _is still shrieking_.) PHYLLIS. (_At a signal from_ AUNT IDA) The shock has been too much for her. MADGE. She's so devoted to Celia. (AUNT IDA _whoops_.) FARADAY. Get some vinegar. (AUNT IDA _whoops_.) EVELYN. No, smelling salts. (AUNT IDA _whoops_.) TARVER. (_Rising_) Oh, hold it upside down! FARADAY. Nonsense, that's for drowning. TARVER. Here, I know a remedy. (MADGE _takes_ TARVER'S _place at_ L. _of choir and_ TARVER _goes up above chair, gets spray from table, leans over_ AUNT IDA'S _shoulder and sprays her forehead_.) SMITH. (_Comes down_ C.) Slap her hands hard. That always brings them to. (PHYLLIS _and_ MADGE _slap_ AUNT IDA'S _hands vigorously_.) AUNT IDA. (_Pushing them away_) It doesn't do anything of the kind. (MADGE _goes_ L.C. _and helps_ EVELYN _on with evening wraps_.) SMITH. There, what did I tell you? (_Goes up stage and to table_ L.) (TARVER _goes_ R. _above sofa_. PHYLLIS _goes_ R. _between sofa and fender_.) AUNT IDA. (_Rises weakly_) Oh--oh--oh--oh--oh--oh! This must be broken to Celia. FARADAY. (_Going up and getting his coat and hat from piano stool_) Celia already knows. PHYLLIS. (_Pouting_) She and Colonel Vavasour are going to stay home and dine together. (_Goes up to_ TARVER _and talks_.)