Eh what? Is it not mine too? Devil take me if I do not assert my proprietorship! [_She pretends to dart away, but he pursues and kisses her._] ~The Man.~~ There! I have asserted my rights. And now, little wifie, you must dance. Imagine this to be a splendid, a supernaturally beautiful palace. ~His Wife.~~ Very well. I have imagined it. ~The Man.~~ And that you are the queen of the ball. ~His Wife.~~ I am ready. ~The Man.~~ And that counts, marquises, and city magnates keep requesting the honour of your hand, but you persistently refuse them, and choose, instead, a man like--like--oh, a man in a beautiful gala dress, a real live prince. What did you say? ~His Wife.~~ That I do not like princes. ~The Man.~~ Good gracious! Whom _do_ you like, then? ~His Wife.~~ I like architects of genius. ~The Man.~~ Very well, then. Imagine such a man to have asked you to dance with him (for I suppose you would not care to have the empty air for a partner, would you?). ~His Wife.~~ I have imagined him. ~The Man.~~ Good! Imagine, too, A marvellous orchestra, with a Turkish drum beating pom, pom, pom. [_He begins to thump the table with his fist_] ~His Wife.~~ But, my dearest one, it is only in a _circus_ that they beat a drum like that, to attract the people--not in a palace. ~The Man.~~ What a fool I am! Very well, then. Never mind that part. Let us begin again. Imagine a fiddle pouring out its soul in melody, and a flute tootling tenderly, and a double-bass droning like a beetle. Thus:-- [_The Man hums a tune as he sits crowned with his chaplet of oak-leaves. The tune is the same as is played during Act III, on the occasion of the grand, ball given by the Man. His wife dances to his humming, looking comely and graceful as she does so._] ~The Man.~~ Ah, my little pet goat! ~His Wife.~~ Nay, I am' the queen of the ball. [_The tune and the dance grow merrier and merrier, until the Man rises to his feet, and dancing lightly where he stands, takes his wife round the waist, and dances with her--his chaplet slipping down to one side as he does so. Meanwhile the Being in Grey looks on imperturbably--the candle in his hand continuing to burn steadily with a clear light._] CURTAIN ACT III--THE BALL GIVEN BY THE MAN