MALE FIGURE [_to her consort_] You would stand there and let me be
treated like this, you unmanly coward.

_Pygmalion falls dead._

THE NEWLY BORN. Oh! Whats the matter? Why did he fall! What has happened
to him?

_They look on anxiously as Martellus kneels down and examines the body
of Pygmalion._

MARTELLUS. She has bitten a piece out of his hand nearly as large as a
finger nail: enough to kill ten men. There is no pulse, no breath.

ECRASIA. But his thumb is clinched.

MARTELLUS. No: it has just straightened out. See! He has gone. Poor
Pygmalion!

THE NEWLY BORN. Oh! [_She weeps_].

STREPHON. Hush, dear: thats childish.

THE NEWLY BORN [_subsiding with a sniff_]!!

MARTELLUS [_rising_] Dead in his third year. What a loss to Science!

ARJILLAX. Who cares about Science? Serve him right for making that pair
of horrors!

THE MALE FIGURE [_glaring_] Ha!

THE FEMALE FIGURE. Keep a civil tongue in your head, you.

THE NEWLY BORN. Oh, do not be so unkind, Arjillax. You will make water
come out of my eyes again.

MARTELLUS [_contemplating the Figures_] Just look at these two devils.
I modelled them out of the stuff Pygmalion made for them. They are
masterpieces of art. And see what they have done! Does that convince you
of the value of art, Arjillax!

STREPHON. They look dangerous. Keep away from them.

ECRASIA. No need to tell us that, Strephon. Pf! They poison the air.

THE MALE FIGURE. Beware, woman. The wrath of Ozymandias strikes like the
lightning.

THE FEMALE FIGURE. You just say that again if you dare, you filthy
creature.

ACIS. What are you going to do with them, Martellus? You are responsible
for them, now that Pygmalion has gone.

MARTELLUS. If they were marble it would be simple enough: I could smash
them. As it is, how am I to kill them without making a horrible mess?

THE MALE FIGURE [_posing heroically_] Ha! [_He declaims_]

Come one: come all: this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.

THE FEMALE FIGURE [_fondly_] My man! My hero husband! I am proud of you.
I love you.

MARTELLUS. We must send out a message for an ancient.

ACIS. Need we bother an ancient about such a trifle? It will take less
than half a second to reduce our poor Pygmalion to a pinch of dust. Why
not calcine the two along with him?

MARTELLUS. No: the two automata are trifles; but the use of our powers
of destruction is never a trifle. I had rather have the case judged.

_The He-An