The market-place lay white and bare in the moonlight. All was silent in
the town.
Never more shall singer's lute
Tidings of him tell.
Yourii hummed this softly to himself. Then he said, aloud: "How
tedious, sad, and dreadful it all is!" as if complaining to some one.
The sound of his own voice alarmed him, and he turned round to see if
he had been overheard. "I am drunk," he thought.
Silent and serene, the night looked down.