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-Ancient emerges from the grove.  The Figures are panic-stricken.

THE HE-ANCIENT [mildly] Am I wanted?  I feel called. [Seeing the body of Pygmalion, and immediately taking a sterner tone] What!  A child lost!  A life wasted!  How has this happened?

THE FEMALE FIGURE [frantically] I didn’t do it.  It was not me.  May I be struck dead if I touched him!  It was he [pointing to the Male Figure].

ALL [amazed at the lie] Oh!

THE MALE FIGURE.  Liar.  You bit him.  Everyone here saw you do it.

THE HE-ANCIENT.  Silence. [Going between the Figures] Who made these two loathsome dolls?

THE MALE FIGURE [trying to assert himself with his knees knocking] My name is Ozymandias, king of—­

THE HE-ANCIENT [with a contemptuous gesture] Pooh!

THE MALE FIGURE [falling on his knees] Oh dont, sir.  Dont.  She did it, sir:  indeed she did.

THE FEMALE FIGURE [howling lamentably] Boohoo! oo! ooh!

THE HE-ANCIENT.  Silence, I say.

He knocks the Male Automaton upright by a very light flip under the chin.  The Female Automaton hardly dares to sob.  The immortals contemplate them with shame and loathing.  The She-Ancient comes from the trees opposite the temple.

THE SHE-ANCIENT.  Somebody wants me.  What is the matter? [She comes to the left hand of the Female Figure, not seeing the body of Pygmalion].  Pf! [Severely] You have been making dolls.  You must not:  they are not only disgusting:  they are dangerous.

THE FEMALE FIGURE [snivelling piteously] I’m not a doll, mam.  I’m only poor Cleopatra-Semiramis, queen of queens. [Covering her face with her hands] Oh, don’t look at me like that, mam.  I meant no harm.  He hurt me:  indeed he did.