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others. Each of them believes that he or she is the only one to whom the miracle has happened. But the Archbishop knows better now. He will advertise in terms which only the long-lived people will understand. He will bring them together and organize them. They will hasten from all parts of the earth. They will become a great Power. Burge-Lubin A little alarmed. I say, will they? I suppose they will. I wonder is Barnabas right after all? Ought we to allow it? Confucius Nothing that we can do will stop it. We cannot in our souls really want to stop it: the vital force that has produced this change would paralyse our opposition to it, if we were mad enough to oppose. But we will not oppose. You and I may be of the elect, too. Burge-Lubin Yes: that’s what gets us every time. What the deuce ought we to do? Something must be done about it, you know. Confucius Let us sit still, and meditate in silence on the vistas before us. Burge-Lubin By George, I believe you’re right. Let us. They sit meditating, the Chinaman naturally, the President with visible effort and intensity. He is positively glaring into the future when the voice of the Negress is heard. The Negress Mr. President. Burge-Lubin Joyfully. Yes. Taking up a peg. Are you at home? The Negress No. Omega, zero, x squared. The President rapidly puts the peg in the switchboard; works the dial; and presses the button. The screen becomes transparent; and the Negress, brilliantly dressed, appears on what looks like the bridge of a steam yacht in glorious sea weather. The installation with which she is communicating is beside the binnacle. Confucius Looking round, and recoiling with a shriek of disgust. Ach! Avaunt! Avaunt! He rushes from the room. Burge-Lubin What part of the coast is that? The Negress Fishguard Bay. Why not run over and join me for the afternoon? I am disposed to be approachable at last. Burge-Lubin But Fishguard! Two hundred and seventy miles! The Negress There is a lightning express on the Irish Air Service at half-past sixteen. They will drop you by a parachute in the bay. The dip will do you good. I will pick you up and dry you and give you a first-rate time. Burge-Lubin Delightful. But a little risky, isn’t it? The Negress Risky! I thought you were afraid of nothing. Burge-Lubin I am not exactly afraid; but⁠— The Negress Offended. But you think it is not good enough. Very well. She raises her hand to take the peg out of her switchboard. Burge-Lubin Imploringly. No: stop: let me explain: hold the line just one moment. Oh, please. The Negress Waiting with her hand poised over the peg. Well? Burge-Lubin The fact is, I have been behaving very recklessly for some time past under the impression that my life would be so short that it was not worth bothering about. But I have just learnt that I may live⁠—well, much longer than I expected. I am sure your good sense will tell you that this alters the case. I⁠— The Negress With suppressed rage. Oh, quite. Pray don’t risk your precious, life on my account. Sorry for troubling you. Goodbye. She snatches out her peg and vanishes. Burge-Lubin Urgently. No: please hold on. I can convince you⁠—A loud buzz-uzz-uzz. Engaged! Who is she calling up now? Represses the button and calls. The Chief Secretary. Say I want to see him again, just for a moment. Confucius’s Voice Is the woman gone? Burge-Lubin Yes, yes: it’s all right. Just a moment, if⁠—Confucius returns. Confucius: I have some important business at Fishguard. The Irish Air Service can drop me in the bay by parachute. I suppose it’s quite safe, isn’t it? Confucius Nothing is quite safe. The air service is as safe as any other travelling service. The parachute is safe. But the water is not safe. Burge-Lubin Why? They will give me an unsinkable tunic, won’t they? Confucius You will not sink; but the sea is very cold. You may get rheumatism for life. Burge-Lubin For life! That settles it: I won’t risk it. Confucius Good. You have at last become prudent: you are no longer what you call a sportsman: you are a sensible coward, almost a grown-up man. I congratulate you. Burge-Lubin Resolutely. Coward or no coward, I will not face an eternity of rheumatism for any woman that ever was born. He rises and goes to the rack for his fillet. I have changed my mind: I am going home. He cocks the fillet rakishly. Good evening. Confucius So early? If the Minister of Health rings you up, what shall I tell her? Burge-Lubin Tell her to go to the devil. He goes out. Confucius Shaking his head, shocked at the President’s impoliteness. No. No, no, no, no, no. Oh, these English! these crude young civilizations! Their manners! Hogs. Hogs.

Part IV

Tragedy of an Elderly Gentleman

AD 3000

Act I

Burrin pier on the south shore of Galway Bay in Ireland, a region of stone-capped hills and granite fields. It is a fine summer day in the year 3000 AD. On an ancient stone stump, about three feet thick and three feet high, used for securing ships by ropes to the shore, and called a bollard or holdfast, an elderly gentleman sits facing the land with his head bowed and his face in his hands, sobbing. His sunburnt skin contrasts with his white whiskers and eyebrows. He wears a black frock-coat, a white waistcoat, lavender trousers, a brilliant silk cravat with a jewelled pin stuck in it, a tall hat of grey felt, and patent leather boots with white spats. His starched linen cuffs protrude from his coat sleeves; and his collar, also of starched white linen, is Gladstonian. On his right, three or four full sacks, lying side by side on the flags, suggest that the