LAURA. Give me your hand, friend.

CAPTAIN. My band! The hand that you have bound! Omphale! Omphale!--
But I feel your shawl against my mouth; it is as warm and soft as
your arm, and it smells of vanilla, like your hair when you were
young! Laura, when you were young, and we walked in the birch
woods, with the primroses and the thrushes--glorious, glorious!
Think how beautiful life was, and what it is now. You didn't want
to have it like this, nor did I, and yet it happened. Who then
rules over life?

LAURA. God alone rules--

CAPTAIN. The God of strife then! Or the Goddess perhaps, nowadays.--
Take away the cat that is lying on me! Take it away!

[Nurse brings in a pillow and takes the shawl away.]

CAPTAIN. Give me my army coat!--Throw it over me! [Nurse gets the
coat and puts it over him.] Ah, my rough lion skin that, you wanted
to take away from me! Omphale! Omphale! You cunning woman, champion
of peace and contriver of man's disarmament. Wake, Hercules, before
they take your club away from you! You would wile our armor from us
too, and make believe that it is nothing but glittering finery. No,
it was iron, let me tell you, before it ever glittered. In olden
days the smith made the armor, now it is the needle woman. Omphale!
Omphale! Rude strength has fallen before treacherous weakness. Out
on you infernal woman, and damnation on your sex! [He raises
himself to spit but falls back on the sofa.] What have you given me