STRANGER. Everything. Unluckily I forgot to wish for money.
LADY. You're thinking of that again.
STRANGER. Are you surprised?
LADY. Quiet!
STRANGER. What is it you're always working at? You sit there like one of the Fates and draw the threads through your fingers. But go on. The most beautiful of sights is a woman bending over her work, or over her child. What are you making?
LADY. Nothing. Crochet work.
STRANGER. It looks like a network of nerves and knots on which you've fixed your thoughts. The brain must look like that—from within.
LADY. If only I thought of half the things you imagine.... But I think of nothing.
STRANGER. Perhaps that's why I feel so contented when I'm with you. Why, I find you so perfect that I can no longer imagine life without you! Now the clouds have blown away. Now the sky is clear! The wind soft—feel how it caresses us! This is Life! Yes, now I live. And I feel my spirit growing, spreading, becoming tenuous, infinite. I am everywhere, in the ocean which is my blood, in the rocks that are my bones, in the trees, in the flowers; and my head reaches up to the heavens. I can survey the whole universe. I am the universe. And I feel the power of the Creator within me, for I am He! I wish I could grasp the all in my hand and refashion it into something more perfect, more lasting, more beautiful. I want all creation and created beings to be happy, to be born without pain, live without suffering, and die in quiet content. Eve! Die with me now! This moment, for the next will bring sorrow again.
LADY. I'm not ready to die.