There are souls beneath that water. Fixed in slimethey speak their piece, end it, and start again:'Sullen were we in the air made sweet by the Sun;in the glory of his shining our hearts poureda bitter smoke. Sullen were we begun;sullen we lie forever in this ditch. 'This litany they gargle in their throatsas if they sand, but lacked the words and pitch.
Some drink deeply from the river of knowledge. Others only gargle.
How do you ask a woman to gargle your nuts?