THE WOMAN. You are superchildren using superlogic. How can a reason come out of one who is ruled by instinct? How can a conservative satisfy a futurist? But I will answer you, and my answer is this: I am a female so that you may be males. I am a holder of traditions so that you may smash them. And I perpetuate the race so that you may ask the reason. RED SWORD. Come, come, this will not do. We are above the fogs of mysticism. We are talking of final things, and we must have a definite answer. THE WOMAN. Then make a definite accusation. PURPLE HAIR. We hold the human race guilty until it is proved innocent. We assume the position of an all-wise intelligence, as aloof from the earth as the farthest star. And we see a race of ant-things crawling on two legs and going through all sorts of meaningless antics. Why is one ant exalted? Because he has led an army which has killed a million other ants. Because he has discovered how to make ants live a few seconds longer. Because he has written a rhyme with ant-words or put a few senseless daubs on ant-canvas. And when the ant asked himself what his purpose was, he answered first, “To exist.” And his second answer was like the first: “To create something more like myself than I am.” There is no validity in these which a superior intelligence can recognize. What is the third answer? RED SWORD. Woman, defend yourself! WHITE HEART. Stop! I love the woman and I demand her (_He jumps from his seat and embraces her_). THE WOMAN. Here, O supermen, is your answer! Man exists for that which cannot be spoken, for that which cannot be thought. He exists for his mystery, for that which he loves, for that which he hates. Man exists for me! GREEN EARS. And if he denies you? THE WOMAN. You cannot have your future without your past. RED SWORD. You see, I was right; we shouldn’t have listened to her. She is her own argument; and she has to bring in the past. Away with her! YELLOW HAT. Away with her; we exist for ourselves! BLUE FACE. Remarkable apples, apple black, apple pink, blossom apples in squirming shrieks. Skyrockets deserve apples. Bang! RED SWORD. Stop using that antique language! I’m sick of it. It’s too obvious. PURPLE HAIR. Yes, we have proved that we can be more obscure in good English. RED SWORD. And now, brothers, the sentence! The execution! ALL. The sentence, the sentence! RED SWORD. Stand aside, White Heart, or I will kill you both at the same time! WHITE HEART. I shall die with her! RED SWORD. You are not yet superman. We shall execute the last man and the last woman together. (_To the woman_) Have you any last words? It is traditional to have last words. THE WOMAN. I will match my silence against your silence, my eternity against your eternity!