Moths. All hail, all hail!
Chrysalis. (Shrieking) Out of my way! Behold! Moths. All hail, all hail! Chrysalis. (Shrieking) Out of my way ! Be hold !
[She rends her husk and leaps forth as a Moth.
Tramp. What? You, Chrysalis? Reely born?
Chrysalis-Moth. (Whirling) Ah! (Stands still)
O light! O love! O! ecstasy
Of being! Life has entered me!
A Few Last Moths. Eternal life—all hail to thee!
[They fall dead.
Chrysalis-Moth.
Hearken, O heaven! O earth, give ear!
I will proclaim a mystery here.
I will solve all things. I will tell
The whole world’s meaning. Hearken well. . . .
[She falls dead.
Tramp. (Kneeling by the dead Chrysalis) Dead. She ’s dead too. Pore Chrysalis—and you ’ad sich ’opes. What was yer going to say? I wonder! They don’t seem skeered o’ death, these little mites don’t. Life ’s a rapture to them, and death ’s a rapture. It ’s queer. Pore little mites—all done for. . . . ’Ere—what ’s this? My turn, is it? Get off my chest, damn yer! I won’t die. ’Aven’t I jest learned ’ow to live and let live? Gawd, I feel sick. I can’t be dyin’? It can’t ’ave come to me? . . . Chuck it—yer stranglin’ me. I know ’oo it is—you’re Death. Yer want to count me out—I know. Take that!
Enter Two Snails.
First Snail. Thtop—Thome one ’s makin’ a noith.
