You shall not go till I have plucked the face
Out of that mask.
[At the door he turns the key and takes it]
The door is locked. Reveal
Yourself!
[The Figure draws away. He strides toward it. It escapes]
Light footed imp! Now by my soul,
You shall not live to blab beyond these walls
The secret you have stolen from my sleep.
[He starts again toward the Figure. It dances away from him, striking the strings of its mandolin. Round the great couch and about the shadowy room he pursues it, ever eluding him. Suddenly he pauses, and stares]