Ambition
Avaunt! He knows thee not! (PITY shrinks exceeding small.)
Love
(Drawing near, a pale shadow.) Or all the lovely thoughts that fluttered into happiness—are they worth nothing?
Ambition
Avaunt! He knows thee not, thin wraith! (She fades to a point.)
Reason
Nor me? Not even order?
Ambition
Hence! (REASON steps aside.)
Hope
Nor yet the thought he had in me? Can he not remember me?
Ambition
Vanish! Thy Lord is for destruction! He thinks not on thee—but on me! Hence! (HOPE pales to a thin flame.)
Beauty
(Proudly.) Yet am I Beauty, his first thought! Rage on, thou evil one! Of what avail, since thou wilt end also? Destroy as thou wilt, he will not forget me! I am that which he is—Beauty! His first thought! Think madly as he may, yet will his last thought, as his first, be of me. I am in him, and he in me. From him, when he wake, if ever, will I come! I will be worshiped! I will be worshiped!