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Updated: May 3, 2025
I shall kill myself when I am four years old. What do you live for? THE HE-ANCIENT. You will find out when you grow up. You will not kill yourself. STREPHON. If you make me believe that, I shall kill myself now. THE NEWLY BORN. Oh no. I want you. I love you. STREPHON. I love someone else. And she has gone old, old. Lost to me for ever. THE HE-ANCIENT. How old?
You are getting on very nicely, my child. MARTELLUS. Come! what is the truth that was hidden in the rag doll? THE HE-ANCIENT. Well, consider why you are not content with the rag doll, and must have something more closely resembling a real living creature. As you grow up you make images and paint pictures. Those of you who cannot do that make stories about imaginary dolls.
THE SHE-ANCIENT. Do not be so embittered because your sweetheart has outgrown her love for you. The Newly Born will make amends. THE NEWLY BORN. Oh yes: I will be more than she could ever have been. STREPHON. Psha! Jealous! THE NEWLY BORN. Oh no. I have grown out of that. I love her now because she loved you, and because you love her. THE HE-ANCIENT. That is the next stage.
STREPHON. You saw her when you barged into us as we were dancing. She is four. THE NEWLY BORN. How I should have hated her twenty minutes ago! But I have grown out of that now. THE HE-ANCIENT. Good. That hatred is called jealousy, the worst of our childish complaints. Martellus, dusting his hands and puffing, returns from the grove. ARJILLAX. Ancients: I should like to make a few studies of you.
Is it true, so far? ARJILLAX. It is partly true: I cannot pretend to be satisfied now with modelling pretty children. THE HE-ANCIENT. And you, Ecrasia: you cling to your highly artistic dolls as the noblest projections of the Life Force, do you not? ECRASIA. Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable. But I don't understand your art and your dolls at all.
Children fled in amazement from me until I had to hide myself from them; and the ancients, who had forgotten how to laugh, smiled grimly when they passed. THE HE-ANCIENT. We have all committed these follies. You will all commit them. THE NEWLY BORN. Oh, do grow a lot of arms and legs and heads for us. It would be so funny. THE HE-ANCIENT. My child: I am just as well as I am.
THE NEWLY BORN. I want some clean air. THE HE-ANCIENT. The air will be clean in a moment. This doll flesh that children make decomposes quickly at best; but when it is shaken by such passions as the creatures are capable of, it breaks up at once and becomes horribly tainted. THE SHE-ANCIENT. Let it be a lesson to you all to be content with lifeless toys, and not attempt to make living ones.
They must move and speak. THE SHE-ANCIENT. They must love and hate. THE HE-ANCIENT. They must think that they think. THE SHE-ANCIENT. They must have soft flesh and warm, blood.
When I was a child, Ecrasia, I, too, was an artist, like your sculptor friends there, striving to create perfection in things outside myself. I made statues: I painted pictures: I tried to worship them. THE HE-ANCIENT. I had no such skill; but I, like Acis, sought perfection in friends, in lovers, in nature, in things outside myself. Alas! I could not create if. I could only imagine it.
I would not lift my finger now to have a thousand heads. THE SHE-ANCIENT. But what would I not give to have no head at all? No head at all? Why? How? THE HE-ANCIENT. Can you not understand?
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