TYLTYL Very much.... Where is it?...
THE CHILD There, you can see it from here, between those two columns....
ANOTHER BLUE CHILD (coming up to TYLTYL and plucking his sleeve) Would you like to see mine, say?...
TYLTYL Yes, what is it?...
THE SECOND CHILD The thirty-three remedies for prolonging life.... There, in those blue phials....
A THIRD CHILD (stepping out from the crowd) I will show you a light which nobody knows of!... (He lights himself up entirely with an extraordinary flame.) It's rather curious, isn't it?...
A FOURTH CHILD (pulling TYLTYL'S arm) Do come and look at my machine which flies in the air like a bird without wings!...
A FIFTH CHILD No, no; mine first! It discovers the treasures hidden in the moon!...
THE BLUE CHILDREN (crowding round TYLTYL and MYTYL and all crying together) No, no, come and see mine!... No, mine is much finer!... Mine is a wonderful invention!... Mine is made of sugar!... His is no good!... He stole the idea from me!...
(Amid these disordered exclamations, the LIVE CHILDREN are dragged towards the blue workshops, where each of the inventors sets his ideal machine going. There ensues a cerulean whirl of wheels, disks, flywheels, driving-wheels, pulleys, straps and strange and as yet unnamed objects shrouded in the bluey mists of the unreal. A crowd of odd and mysterious mechanisms dart forth and hover under the vaults or crawl at the foot of the columns, while CHILDREN unfold charts and plans, open books, uncover azure statues and bring enormous flowers and gigantic fruits that seem formed of sapphires and turquoises.)