on even the houses escaped; but their inhabitants were poisoned by gas that spared no living soul.  Of course the soldiers starved and ran wild; and that was the end of pseudo-Christian civilization.  The last civilized thing that happened was that the statesmen discovered that cowardice was a great patriotic virtue; and a public monument was erected to its first preacher, an ancient and very fat sage called Sir John Falstaff.  Well [pointing], thats Falstaff.

THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [coming from the portico to his granddaughter’s right] Great Heavens!  And at the base of this monstrous poltroon’s statue the War God of Turania is now gibbering impotently.

ZOO.  Serve him right!  War God indeed!

THE ENVOY [coming between his wife and Zoo] I don’t know any history:  a modern Prime Minister has something better to do than sit reading books; but—­

THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [interrupting him encouragingly] You make history, Ambrose.

THE ENVOY.  Well, perhaps I do; and perhaps history makes me.  I hardly recognize myself in the newspapers sometimes, though I suppose leading articles are the materials of history, as you might say.  But what I want to know is, how did war come back again? and how did they make those poisonous gases you speak of?  We should be glad to know; for they might come in very handy if we have to fight Turania.  Of course I am all for peace, and don’t hold with the race of armaments in principle; still, we must keep ahead or be wiped out.

ZOO.  You can make the gases for yourselves when your chemists find out how.  Then you will do as you did before:  poison each other until there are no chemists left, and no civilization.  You will then begin all over again as half-starved ignorant savages, and fight with boomerangs and poisoned arrows until you work up to the poison gases and high explosives once more, with the same result.  That is, unless we have sense enough to make an end of this ridiculous game by destroying you.

THE ENVOY [aghast] Destroying us!

THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN.  I told you, Ambrose.  I warned you.

THE ENVOY.  But—­

ZOO [impatiently] I wonder what Zozim is doing.  He ought to be here to receive you.

THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN.  Do you mean that rather insufferable young man whom you found boring me on the pier?

ZOO.  Yes.  He has to dress-up in a Druid’s robe, and put on a wig and a long false beard, to impress you silly people.  I have to put on a purple mantle.  I have no patience with such mummery; but you expect it from us; so I suppose it must be kept up.  Will you wait here until Zozim comes, please [she turns to enter the temple].

THE ENVOY.  My good lady, is it worth while dressing-up and putting on false beards for us if you tell us beforehand that it is all humbug?

ZOO.  One would not think so; but if you wont believe in anyone who is not dressed-up, why, we must dress-up for you.  It was you who invented all this nonsense, not we.