Thyrsis:  Sir, we are not in the fancy
To play the play.  We had thought to play it later.

Corydon:  Besides, this is the setting for a farce. 
Our scene requires a wall; we cannot build
A wall of tissue-paper!

Thyrsis:  We cannot act
A tragedy with comic properties!

Cothurnus:  Try it and see.  I think you’ll find you can. 
One wall is like another.  And regarding
The matter of your insufficient mood,
The important thing is that you speak the lines,
And make the gestures.  Wherefore I shall remain
Throughout, and hold the prompt-book.  Are you ready?

Corydon-Thyrsis:  [Sorrowfully.] Sir, we are always ready.

Cothurnus:  Play the play!

    [Corydon and Thyrsis move the table and chairs to one side out
    of the way, and seat themselves in a half-reclining position
    on the floor.]

Thyrsis:  How gently in the silence, Corydon,
Our sheep go up the bank.  They crop a grass
That’s yellow where the sun is out, and black
Where the clouds drag their shadows.  Have you noticed
How steadily, yet with what a slanting eye
They graze?

Corydon:  As if they thought of other things. 
What say you, Thyrsis, do they only question
Where next to pull?—­Or do their far minds draw them
Thus vaguely north of west and south of east?

Thyrsis:  One cannot say. . . .  The black lamb wears its burdocks
As if they were a garland,—­have you noticed? 
Purple and white—­and drinks the bitten grass
As if it were a wine.

Corydon:  I’ve noticed that. 
What say you, Thyrsis, shall we make a song
About a lamb that thought himself a shepherd?

Thyrsis:  Why, yes!—­that is, why,—­no. (I have forgotten my line.)

Cothurnus:  [Prompting.] “I know a game worth two of that!”

Thyrsis:  Oh, yes. . . .  I know a game worth two of that! 
Let’s gather rocks, and build a wall between us;
And say that over there belongs to me,
And over here to you!

Corydon:  Why,—­very well. 
And say you may not come upon my side
Unless I say you may!

Thyrsis:  Nor you on mine! 
And if you should, ’twould be the worse for you!

[They weave a wall of colored crepe paper ribbons from the centre front to the centre back of the stage, fastening the ends to Columbine’s chair in front and to Pierrot’s chair in the back.]

Corydon:  Now there’s a wall a man may see across,
But not attempt to scale.

Thyrsis:  An excellent wall.

Corydon:  Come, let us separate, and sit alone
A little while, and lay a plot whereby
We may outdo each other.
[They seat themselves on opposite sides of the wall.]