ZOO. [_interrupting_] Yes, yes, yes, Daddy: we longlived people know that quite well. But did any of their disciples ever succeed in governing you for a single day on their Christ-like principles? It is not enough to know what is good: you must be able to do it. They couldn't do it because they did not live long enough to find out how to do it, or to outlive the childish passions that prevented them from really wanting to do it. You know very well that they could only keep order--such as it was--by the very coercion and militarism they were denouncing and deploring. They had actually to kill one another for preaching their own gospel, or be killed themselves. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. The blood of the martyrs, madam, is the seed of the Church. ZOO. More images, Daddy! The blood of the shortlived falls on stony ground. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_rising, very testy_] You are simply mad on the subject of longevity. I wish you would change it. It is rather personal and in bad taste. Human nature is human nature, longlived or shortlived, and always will be. ZOO. Then you give up the idea of progress? You cry off the torch, and the brick, and the acorn, and all the rest of it? THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I do nothing of the sort. I stand for progress and for freedom broadening down from precedent to precedent. ZOO. You are certainly a true Briton. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I am proud of it. But in your mouth I feel that the compliment hides some insult; so I do not thank you for it. ZOO. All I meant was that though Britons sometimes say quite clever things and deep things as well as silly and shallow things, they always forget them ten minutes after they have uttered them. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Leave it at that, madam: leave it at that. [_He sits down again_]. Even a Pope is not expected to be continually pontificating. Our flashes of inspiration shew that our hearts are in the right place. ZOO. Of course. You cannot keep your heart in any place but the right place. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Tcha! ZOO. But you can keep your hands in the wrong place. In your neighbor's pockets, for example. So, you see, it is your hands that really matter. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_exhausted_] Well, a woman must have the last word. I will not dispute it with you. ZOO. Good. Now let us go back to the really interesting subject of our discussion. You remember? The slavery of the shortlived to images and metaphors. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_aghast_] Do you mean to say, madam, that after having talked my head off, and reduced me to despair and silence by your intolerable loquacity, you actually propose to begin all over again? I shall leave you at once. ZOO. You must not. I am your nurse; and you must stay with me. THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I absolutely decline to do anything of the sort [_he rises and walks away with marked dignity_].