can you see me?
He. I can see you.
She. Even though you haven't seen me
for hours, days, weeks—
with your dear blue eyes—
you can see me—
with your hidden ones?
He. I can see you.
She. Even though you are still,
and calm, and smooth,
and lovely outside—
you aren't still and calm
and smooth and lovely inside?
He. Lovely, yes—but not still and calm and smooth!
She. Which way are you looking? What do you see?
He. I look at you. I see you.
She. And if that fool of a servant—oh, Manikin—suppose she should break the future—our great, happy centuries ahead—by dropping me, throwing me down?
He. I should take an immediate step off this everlasting shelf—