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life. [ Smile off. ] Beginning in the womb, where life used to begin, Mildred has memories, she will have memories, of the womb, before she dies, the mother’s womb. [ Pause. ] She is now four or five already and has recently been given a big waxen dolly. [ Pause. ] Fully clothed, complete outfit. [ Pause. ] Shoes, socks, undies, complete set, frilly frock, gloves. [ Pause. ] White mesh. [ Pause. ] A little white straw hat with a chin elastic. [ Pause. ] Pearly necklet. [ Pause. ] A little picture-book with legends in real print to go under her arm when she takes her walk. [ Pause. ] China blue eyes that open and shut. [ Pause. Narrative. ] The sun was not well up when Milly rose, descended the steep . . . [ pause ] . . . slipped on her nightgown, descended all alone the steep wooden stairs,backwards on all fours, though she had been forbidden to do so, entered the . . . [ pause ] . . . tiptoed down the silent passage, entered the nursery and began to undress Dolly. [ Pause. ] Crept under the table and began to undress Dolly. [ Pause. ] Scolding her . . . the while. [ Pause. ] Suddenly a mouse— [ Long pause. ] Gently, Winnie. [ Long pause. Calling. ] Willie! [ Pause. Louder. ] Willie! [ Pause. Mild reproach. ] I sometimes find your attitude a little strange, Willie, all this time, it is not like you to be wantonly cruel. [ Pause. ] Strange? [ Pause. ] No. [ Smile. ] Not here. [ Smile broader. ] Not now. [ Smile off. ] And yet . . . [ Suddenly anxious. ] I do hope nothing is amiss. [ Eyes right, loud. ] Is all well, dear? [ Pause. Eyes front. To herself. ] God grant he did not go in head foremost! [ Eyes right, loud. ] You’re not stuck, Willie? [ Pause. Do. ] You’re not jammed, Willie? [ Eyes front, distressed. ] Perhaps he is crying out for help all this time and I do not hear him! [ Pause. ] I do of course hear cries. [ Pause. ] But they are in my head surely. [ Pause. ] Is it possible that . . . [ Pause. With finality. ] No no, my head was always full of cries. [ Pause. ] Faint confused cries. [ Pause. ] They come. [ Pause. ] Then go. [ Pause. ] As on a wind. [ Pause. ] That is what I find sowonderful. [ Pause. ] They cease. [ Pause. ] Ah yes, great mercies, great mercies. [ Pause. ] The day is now well advanced. [ Smile. Smile off. ] And yet it is perhaps a little soon for my song. [ Pause. ] To sing too soon is fatal, I always find. [ Pause. ] On the other hand it is possible to leave it too late. [ Pause. ] The bell goes for sleep and one has not sung. [ Pause. ] The whole day has flown—[ smile, smile off ]—flown by, quite by, and no song of any class, kind or description. [ Pause. ] There is a problem here. [ Pause. ] One cannot sing . . . just like that, no. [ Pause. ] It bubbles up, for some unknown reason, the time is ill chosen, one chokes it back. [ Pause. ] One says, Now is the time, it is now or never, and one cannot. [ Pause. ] Simply cannot sing. [ Pause. ] Not a note. [ Pause. ] Another thing, Willie, while we are on this subject. [ Pause. ] The sadness after song. [ Pause. ] Have you run across that, Willie? [ Pause. ] In the course of your experience. [ Pause. ] No? [ Pause. ] Sadness after intimate sexual intercourse one is familiar with of course. [ Pause. ] You would concur with Aristotle there, Willie, I fancy. [ Pause. ] Yes, that one knows and is prepared to face. [ Pause. ] But after song . . . [ Pause. ] It does not last of course. [ Pause. ] That is what I find sowonderful. [ Pause. ] It wears away. [ Pause. ] What are those exquisite lines? [ Pause. ] Go forget me why should something o’er that something shadow fling . . . go forget me . . . why should sorrow . . . brightly smile . . . go forget me . . . never hear me . . . sweetly smile . . . brightly sing . . . [ Pause. With a sigh. ] One loses one’s classics. [ Pause. ] Oh not all. [ Pause. ] A part. [ Pause. ] A part remains. [ Pause. ] That is what I find so wonderful, a part remains, of one’s classics, to help one through the