THE MAIDEN [_with a shrug_] I have luckily got through my childhood without that experience. It shews how wise I was to choose a lover half my age. [_She goes towards the grove, and is disappearing among the trees, when another youth, older and manlier than Strephon, with crisp hair and firm arms, comes from the temple, and calls to her from the threshold_]. THE TEMPLE YOUTH. I say, Chloe. Is there any sign of the Ancient yet? The hour of birth is overdue. The baby is kicking like mad. She will break her shell prematurely. THE MAIDEN [_looks across to the hill path; then points up it, and says_] She is coming, Acis. _The Maiden turns away through the grove and is lost to sight among the trees._ Acis [_coming to Strephon_] Whats the matter? Has Chloe been unkind? STREPHON. She has grown up in spite of all her promises. She deceived us about her age. She is four. ACIS. Four! I am sorry, Strephon. I am getting on for three myself; and I know what old age is. I hate to say 'I told you so'; but she was getting a little hard set and flat-chested and thin on the top, wasn't she? STREPHON [_breaking down_] Dont. ACIS. You must pull yourself together. This is going to be a busy day. First the birth. Then the Festival of the Artists. STREPHON [_rising_] What is the use of being born if we have to decay into unnatural, heartless, loveless, joyless monsters in four short years? What use are the artists if they cannot bring their beautiful creations to life? I have a great mind to die and have done with it all. [_He moves away to the corner of the curved seat farthest from the theatre, and throws himself moodily into it_]. _An Ancient Woman has descended the hill path during Strephon's lament, and has heard most of it. She is like the He-Ancient, equally bald, and equally without sexual charm, but intensely interesting and rather terrifying. Her sex is discoverable only by her voice, as her breasts are manly, and her figure otherwise not very different. She wears no clothes, but has draped herself rather perfunctorily with a ceremonial robe, and carries two implements like long slender saws. She comes to the altar between the two young men._ THE SHE-ANCIENT [_to Strephon_] Infant: you are only at the beginning of it all. [_To Acis_] Is the child ready to be born? ACIS. More than ready, Ancient. Shouting and kicking and cursing. We have called to her to be quiet and wait until you come; but of course she only half understands, and is very impatient. THE SHE-ANCIENT. Very well. Bring her out into the sun. ACIS [_going quickly into the temple_] All ready. Come along. _Joyous processional music strikes up in the temple._ THE SHE-ANCIENT [_going close to Strephon_]. Look at me. STREPHON [_sulkily keeping his face _averted] Thank you; but I don't want to be cured. I had rather be miserable in my own way than callous in yours. THE SHE-ANCIENT. You like being miserable? You will soon grow out of that. [_She returns to the altar_].