No: I dread being drunk more than anything in
the world. To be drunk means to have dreams; to go soft; to be
easily pleased and deceived; to fall into the clutches of women.
Drink does that for you when you are young. But when you are old:
very very old, like me, the dreams come by themselves. You don't
know how terrible that is: you are young: you sleep at night
only, and sleep soundly. But later on you will sleep in the
afternoon. Later still you will sleep even in the morning; and
you will awake tired, tired of life. You will never be free from
dozing and dreams; the dreams will steal upon your work every ten
minutes unless you can awaken yourself with rum. I drink now to
keep sober; but the dreams are conquering: rum is not what it
was: I have had ten glasses since you came; and it might be so
much water. Go get me another: Guinness knows where it is. You
had better see for yourself the horror of an old man drinking.
ELLIE. You shall not drink. Dream. I like you to dream. You must
never be in the real world when we talk together.
CAPTAIN SHOTOVER. I am too weary to resist, or too weak. I am in
my second childhood. I do not see you as you really are. I can't
remember what I really am. I feel nothing but the accursed
happiness I have dreaded all my life long: the happiness that
comes as life goes, the happiness of yielding and dreaming
instead of resisting and doing, the sweetness of the fruit that
is going rotten.
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