ECRASIA [sententiously] I do not admit that. The artist divines by inspiration all the truths that the so-called scientist grubs up in his laboratory slowly and stupidly long afterwards.
ARJILLAX [to Ecrasia, quarrelsomely] What do you know about it? You are not an artist.
ACIS. Shut your heads, both of you. Let us have the artificial men. Trot them out, Pygmalion.
PYGMALION. It is a man and a woman. But I really must explain first.
ALL [groaning]!!!
PYGMALION. Yes: I—
ACIS. We want results, not explanations.
PYGMALION [hurt] I see I am boring you. Not one of you takes the least interest in science. Goodbye. [He descends from the altar and makes for the temple].
SEVERAL YOUTHS AND MAIDENS [rising and rushing to him] No, no. Dont go. Dont be offended. We want to see the artificial pair. We will listen. We are tremendously interested. Tell us all about it.
PYGMALION [relenting] I shall not detain you two minutes.