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Babby!

(In babylinen and pelisse, bigheaded, with a caul of dark hair, fixes big eyes on her fluid slip and counts its bronze buckles with a chubby finger, his moist tongue lolling and lisping.) One two tlee: tlee tlwo tlone.

Love me. Love me not. Love me.

Silent means consent. (With little parted talons she captures his hand, her forefinger giving to his palm the passtouch of secret monitor, luring him to doom.) Hot hands cold gizzard.

(Exhaling sulphur of rut and dung and ramping in their loosebox, faintly roaring, their drugged heads swaying to and fro.) Good!

(Her lucky hand instantly saving him.) Hoopsa! Don’t fall upstairs.

The just man falls seven timestimes. [sic] (He stands aside at the threshold.) After you is good manners.

Ladies first, gentlemen after.

(She crosses the threshold. He hesitates. She turns and, holding out her hands,