I been going
on?

ECRASIA. If they have no regard for truth, they can have no real
vitality.

PYGMALION. Truth is sometimes so artificial: so relative, as we say in
the scientific world, that it is very hard to feel quite sure that what
is false and even ridiculous to us may not be true to them.

ECRASIA. I ask you again, why did you not make them like us? Would any
true artist be content with less than the best?

PYGMALION. I couldnt. I tried. I failed. I am convinced that what I
am about to shew you is the very highest living organism that can be
produced in the laboratory. The best tissues we can manufacture will not
take as high potentials as the natural product: that is where Nature
beats us. You dont seem to understand, any of you, what an enormous
triumph it was to produce consciousness at all.

ACIS. Cut the cackle; and come to the synthetic couple.

SEVERAL YOUTHS AND MAIDENS. Yes, yes. No more talking. Let us have them.
Dry up, Pyg; and fetch them along. Come on: out with them! The synthetic
couple.

PYGMALION [_waving his hands to appease them_] Very well, very well.
Will you please whistle for them? They respond to the stimulus of a
whistle.

_All who can, whistle like streetboys._

ECRASIA [_makes a wry face and puts her fingers in her ears_]!

PYGMALION. Sh-sh-sh! Thats enough: thats enough: thats enough.
[_Silence_]. Now let us have some music. A dance tune. Not too fast.

_The flutists play a quiet dance._

MARTELLUS. Prepare yourselves for something ghastly.

_Two figures, a man and woman of noble appearance, beautifully modelled
and splendidly attired, emerge hand in hand from the temple. Seeing
that all eyes are fixed on them, they halt on the steps, smiling with
gratified vanity. The woman is on the man's left._

PYGMALION [_rubbing his hands with the purring satisfaction of a
creator_] This way, please.

_The Figures advance condescendingly and pose themselves centrally
between the curved seats._

PYGMALION. Now if you will be so good as to oblige us with a little
something. You dance so beautifully, you know. [_He sits down next
Martellus, and whispers to him_] It is extraordinary how sensitive they
are to the stimulus of flattery.

_The Figures, with a gracious air, dance pompously, but very passably.
At the close they bow to one another._

ON ALL HANDS [_clapping_] Bravo! Thank you. Wonderful! Splendid.
Perfect.

_The Figures acknowledge the applause in an obvious condi