THE DEVIL.  I thought you disliked anything classic?

THE STATUE.  Ahem! only dead classics—­especially when they are employed to protect romanticism.  Dead classics are the protective tariffs put on all realism and truth by bloated idealism.  In a country of plutocrats, idealism keeps out truth:  idealism is more expensive, and therefore more in demand.  In America, there are more plutocrats, and therefore more idealists . . . as Mr. Pember Reeves has pointed out in New Zealand . . .

THE DEVIL.  But I say, is this drama?

THE STATUE.  Certainly not.  It is a discussion taking place at a theatre.  It is no more drama than a music-hall entertainment, or a comic opera, or a cinematograph, or a hospital operation, all of which things take place in theatres.  But surely it is more entertaining to come to a discussion charmingly mounted by Ricketts—­discussion too, in which every one knows what he is going to say—­than to flaccid plays in which the audience always knows what the actors are going to say better often than the actors.  The sort of balderdash which Mr. —–­ serves up to us for plays.

THE DEVIL (peevish and old-fashioned).  I wish you would define drama.

HANKIN (advancing).  Won’t you have tea, Commander?  It’s not bad tea.

THE STATUE.  I was afraid you were going to talk idealism.

HANKIN (aside).  Excuse my interrupting, but I want you to be particularly nice to the Princess Salome.  You know she was jilted by the Censor.  She has brought her music.

THE DEVIL.  You might introduce her to Mrs. Warren.  But I am afraid the Princess has taken rather too much upon herself this evening.

THE STATUE.  Yes, she has taken too much; I am sure she has taken too much.

A JOURNALIST. Is that the Princess Salome who has Mexican opals in her teeth, and red eyebrows and green hair, and curious rock-crystal breasts?

THE DEVIL.  Yes, that is the Princess Salome.

SHANNON.  I know the Princess quite well.  Ricketts makes her frocks. 
Shall I ask her to dance?

THE DEVIL.  Yes, anything to distract her attention from the guests.  These artistic English people are so easily shocked.  They don’t understand Strauss, nor indeed anything until it is quite out of date.  I want to make Hell at least as attractive as it is painted; a place as well as a condition within the meaning of the Act.  Full of wit, beauty, pleasure, freedom—­

THE STATUE.  Ugh—­ugh.

SHANNON.  Will you dance for us, Princess?

SALOME.  Anything for you, dear Mr. Shannon, only my ankles are a little sore to-night.  How is dear Ricketts?  I want new dresses so badly.

SHANNON.  I suppose by this time he is in Heaven.  But won’t you dance just to make things go?  And then the Commander will lecture on super-maniacs later on!