Beauty
(Threading a necklace of suns.) I will be worshiped! I will be worshiped! (She croons joyously.)
The Lord of the Universe
(His mood changing, a giant despair creeping into his eyes.) Forever and ever! Oh, ho, ho, ho! Forever and ever! It is a dream! (He staggers to his feet, the great shadowy arms flailing wildly. As he does so he imagines Space and Time, and begins to wander down their lengths, staggering as he goes. From his brow leap HATE, DESPAIR, PITY, HOPE, FEAR, thoughts all, the last two with great round eyes and open mouths. At the same time clouds upon clouds of unimaginable forms and characters, previously non-existent, come into being, the product of his fancy. Suns, worlds, fire-mists, swarms of birds, snakes, fishes, animals and men are born, strange wraiths that float in wreaths about him and traverse all immensity. They circle, murmur, mutter, cry. The avatars of men come forth, huge forms of gas. They are preceded and followed by vast clouds of thoughts of their own—ravening, embodied fancies that bicker and contest. These immense companies and semblances appear and disappear, as the primary figure thinks or loses memory of what he has thought. He alternately laughs and groans, maundering.)