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THE NEWLY BORN. Just a little. Carry Pygmalion into the temple; and dispose of his remains in the usual way. Ecrasia, Arjillax, Strephon, and the Newly Born sit down as before, but on contrary benches; so that Strephon and the Newly Born now face the grove, and Ecrasia and Arjillax the temple. The Ancients remain standing at the altar. STREPHON. Or the wind from the sea at the turn of the tide!

We have tapped that central heat as prehistoric man tapped water springs; but nothing has come up alive from those flaming depths: your landscapes, your mountains, are only the world's cast skins and decaying teeth on which we live like microbes. ECRASIA. Ancient: you blaspheme against Nature and against Man.

They would bore me; and they would bore you if you had any sense. Go in and look at my busts. ECRASIA. Silence is the most perfect expression of scorn. Scorn! That is what I feel for your revolting busts. ARJILLAX. Fool: the busts are only the beginning of a mighty design. Listen. ACIS. Go ahead, old sport. We are listening. Martellus stretches himself on the sward beside the altar.

ECRASIA. Even in your childhood, then, you did not understand high art, and adored your own amateur crudities. THE SHE-ANCIENT. How old are you? ECRASIA. Eight months. THE SHE-ANCIENT. When you have lived as long as I have Thank heaven I am still in my prime. THE HE-ANCIENT. You are still capable of thanking, though you do not know what you thank.

Does that satisfy you? ECRASIA. At what distance? ARJILLAX. Arm's length or more. STREPHON. No. It is now quite dark. A vague radiance appears near the temple and shapes itself into the ghost of Adam. ADAM. The ghost of Adam, the first father of mankind. Who are you? THE VOICE. The ghost of Eve, the first mother of mankind. ADAM. Come forth, wife; and shew yourself to me. You are very old.

Until today your works have been full of beauty; and I have been the first to point that out. ARJILLAX. Thank you for nothing. People have eyes, havnt they, to see what is as plain as the sun in the heavens without your pointing it out? ECRASIA. You were very glad to have it pointed out. You did not call me a conceited humbug then. You stifled me with caresses.

ARJILLAX. If you come to that, what interest can you find in the statues of smirking nymphs and posturing youths you stick up all over the place? ECRASIA. You did not ask that when your hand was still skilful enough to model them. ARJILLAX. Skilful! You high-nosed idiot, I could turn such things out by the score with my eyes bandaged and one hand tied behind me. But what use would they be?

These things are mere automata: they cannot help shrinking from death at any cost. You see that they have no self-control, and are merely shuddering through a series of reflexes. One of you two is to be destroyed. Which of you shall it be? STREPHON. Thats better. THE NEWLY BORN. Much better. How could either of us live without the other? ECRASIA. The woman is more sensible than the man.

How have I been going on? ECRASIA. If they have no regard for truth, they can have no real vitality. PYGMALION. Truth is sometimes so artificial: so relative, as we say in the scientific world, that it is very hard to feel quite sure that what is false and even ridiculous to us may not be true to them. ECRASIA. I ask you again, why did you not make them like us?

You are saddening us; and you are chasing the light away. It is growing dark. ACIS. Night is falling. The light will come back tomorrow. THE NEWLY BORN. What is tomorrow? All begin trooping into the temple. What ARJILLAX. Silence. Little children should be seen and not heard. ECRASIA. Ungraceful. You must not do that. THE NEWLY BORN. I will do what I like.