Per vias rectas!

(A yoke of buckets leopards all over him and his rearing nag a torrent of mutton broth with dancing coins of carrots, barley, onions, turnips, potatoes.)

THE GREEN LODGES: Soft day, sir John! Soft day, your honour!

(Private Carr, Private Compton and Cissy Caffrey pass beneath the windows, singing in discord.)

STEPHEN: Hark!

Our friend noise in the street.

ZOE: (Holds up her hand.) Stop!

PRIVATE CARR, PRIVATE COMPTON AND CISSY CAFFREY:

Yet I’ve a sort of a

Yorkshire relish for...