Hi, Man! Invite us to your mansion, since there are sixteen rooms in it. Yes, that heart will soon have stopped for ever. It is an old, weak, diseased heart now. He has gone to sleep, the drunken fool! This is a strange place to sleep in, but he seems able to do it. He might die in his sleep. Wake him up, some one. Hi, Man! Wake up I Think how that heart used to beat when it was young and strong. [_The Old Women chuckle,_] Who says more liquor? By the way, there seems to be a larger company present now. What do you mean? I see only the same company as before. I am going up into the street to raise the alarm! I have been robbed! I am nearly naked I See how my green skin is showing through! Well, go; and good luck to you! Do you remember the night when the Man was born? I think you were present on that occasion? I am dying, I am dying! O my God! Who will carry me to the grave, or lay me in it? My corpse will be left to cumber the streets like a dog's, to be trodden upon by passers-by, to be ridden over and crushed! O my God, my God! Do you remember the Relations saying, "Let us congratulate you, dear kinsman, on the birth of a son"? I am certain you are wrong when you say that the circle can be squared. I will prove to you how absurd it is. Well, you may be right. O my God, my God! Only an ignoramus in geometry would make such an assertion. I do not admit it--do you hear? I do not admit it. Do you remember how the Man's Wife looked, in her poor pink dress and shabby hair-riband? Yes; and the flowers, too--the May lilies with the dew not dry upon them, the violets, and the grasses? "Do not touch them, dear: children; do not touch the flowers." [_The Old yeomen chuckle._] O my God, my God! [_By this time the drunkards have all departed, and their places been taken by the Old Women. The light has been growing steadily fainter, until only the form of the Being in Grey and the white, drooping head of the Man stand out clearly under shafts of light fatting upon them from above._] ~Dialogue of the Old Women alone.~~ Good evening to you! And to you! What a glorious night it is! We are all here, are we not? How are _you?_ I have caught a little cold, I think. [_The Old Women chuckle._] This time we shall not have very long to wait. Death and the Man have nearly met. See the candle! See its thin, blue, ragged flame! It has almost no wax now--only wick. Yes; but it seems reluctant to go out? Well? Are not _all_ candles reluctant to go out? Come, come! No quarrelling, no quarrelling! Whether the candle chooses to go out or not, the Man's time is fast ebbing away. Do you remember his motor-car? Once it nearly ran me down. And his mansion, too, with the sixteen rooms in it? Yes. I was in them a short while ago. The rats nearly devoured me, and the draughts nearly blew me away, for some one had stolen the window-frames from their sockets, and the wind was tearing through the rooms.