Hello, what’s that you’ve got there, Corydon?

CORYDON:  Jewels.

THYRSIS:  Jewels?—­And where did you ever get them?

CORYDON:  Oh, over here.

THYRSIS:  You mean to say you found them,
By digging around in the ground for them?

CORYDON:  [Unpleasantly.] No, Thyrsis,
By digging down for water for my sheep.

THYRSIS:  Corydon, come to the wall a minute, will you? 
I want to talk to you.

CORYDON:  I haven’t time. 
I’m making me a necklace of red stones.

THYRSIS:  I’ll give you all the water that you want,
For one of those red stones,—­if it’s a good one.

CORYDON:  Water?—­what for?—­what do I want of water?

THYRSIS:  Why, for your sheep!

CORYDON:  My sheep?—­I’m not a shepherd!

THYRSIS:  Your sheep are dying of thirst.

CORYDON:  Man, haven’t I told you
I can’t be bothered with a few untidy
Brown sheep all full of burdocks?—­I’m a merchant. 
That’s what I am!—­And if I set my mind to it
I dare say I could be an emperor!
[To himself.] Wouldn’t I be a fool to spend my time
Watching a flock of sheep go up a hill,
When I have these to play with?—­when I have these
To think about?—­I can’t make up my mind
Whether to buy a city, and have a thousand
Beautiful girls to bathe me, and be happy
Until I die, or build a bridge, and name it
The Bridge of Corydon,—­and be remembered
After I’m dead.

THYRSIS:  Corydon, come to the wall,
Won’t you?—­I want to tell you something.

CORYDON:  Hush! 
Be off!  Be off!  Go finish your nap, I tell you!

THYRSIS:  Corydon, listen:  if you don’t want your sheep,
Give them to me.

CORYDON:  Be off!  Go finish your nap. 
A red one—­and a blue one—­and a red one—­
And a purple one—­give you my sheep, did you say?—­
Come, come!  What do you take me for, a fool? 
I’ve a lot of thinking to do,—­and while I’m thinking,
The sheep might just as well be over here
As over there. . . .  A blue one—­and a red one—­

THYRSIS:  But they will die!

CORYDON:  And a green one—­and a couple
Of white ones, for a change.

THYRSIS:  Maybe I have
Some jewels on my side.

CORYDON:  And another green one—­
Maybe, but I don’t think so.  You see, this rock
Isn’t so very wide.  It stops before
It gets to the wall.  It seems to go quite deep,
However.

THYRSIS:  [With hatred.] I see.

COLUMBINE:  [Off stage.] Look, Pierrot, there’s the moon.

PIERROT:  [Off stage.] Nonsense!

THYRSIS:  I see.

COLUMBINE:  [Off stage.] Sing me an old song, Pierrot,—­
Something I can remember.

PIERROT:  [Off stage.] Columbine. 
Your mind is made of crumbs,—­like an escallop
Of oysters,—­first a layer of crumbs, and then
An oystery taste, and then a layer of crumbs.