The Minister. Do you still identify yourself with earthly beliefs?
The Monk. A phase! A phase! In the presence and thought of materiality I seem to partake of it.
The First Egyptian. And I! A sound observation!
The Third Egyptian. The lure of life! It has never lost its charm for me.
The Minister (to himself). Nor for me.
The Fawn (cavorting near, his kex to his lips, piping vigorously). Heavy dolts! Little they know of joy except to stare at it.
The Minister (indicating the fawn). And this animal—to profane a temple!
The Monk (mischievously). And do you still cling to earthly notions of sanctity?
The Minister. I hold as I have said, that there must be some power that explains us.
The Twelve Hama-dryads (dancing and singing):