in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog?  Was it not enough?  We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more.  We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well.  I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things.  I gave you your own soul:  you ask me for my body as a plaything.  Was it not enough?  Was it not enough?

Soames.  Do you understand this, my lord?

The bishop.  I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George’s hand].  Your hand is very cold.  Can you come down to earth?  Do you remember who I am, and who you are?

Mrs George.  It was enough for me.  I did not ask to meet you—­to touch you—­[the Bishop quickly releases her hand].  When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever.  It was enough:  I have asked you for nothing since:  I ask you for nothing now.  I have lived:  it is enough.  I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work.  I thank you and bless you and leave you.  You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing:  I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing.

The bishop.  You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins.

Soames.  No.  Take us as we are capable of becoming.

Mrs George.  Take me as I am:  I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes:  come in, come in.

Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study.

Hotchkiss.  Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming?  In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two.

Soames.  My lord; is this possession by the devil?

The bishop.  Or the ecstasy of a saint?

Hotchkiss.  Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod?

The bishop.  May not the three be one?

Mrs George [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions.  You are dragging me back to myself.  You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and—­what was it?—­ [striving to fathom it] the pythoness—­the pythoness—­[giving it up] I dont understand.  I am a woman:  a human creature like yourselves.  Will you not take me as I am?

Soames.  Yes; but shall we take you and burn you?

The bishop.  Or take you and canonize you?

Hotchkiss [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this:  it’s dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony’s devil and the Bishop’s saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder].