_The same night_.
_The home of the Chinese Wizard_, HIP LOONG, _by the river_--_a place
fitted with Chinese things_: _Dragons of gold with eyes of jade gleaming
from out dim corners_, _Buddhas of gigantic size fashioned of priceless
metals with heads that move_, _swinging banners with fringes of
many-coloured stones_, _lanterns with glass slides on which are painted
grotesque figures_. _The air is full of the scent of joss sticks_. _The
Wizard reclines on a divan_, _inhaling opium slowly_, _clothed with the
subdued gorgeousness of China_--_blue and tomato-red predominate_. _He
has the appearance of a wrinkled walnut_. _His forehead is a lattice-
work of wrinkles_. _His pigtail_, _braided with red_, _is twisted round
his head_. _His hands are as claws_. _The effect is weird_,
_unearthly_.
_Enter_ MAH PHRU.
_The Wizard silently motions her to some piled-up cushions at a little
distance_. _He listens to what she tells him_. _He appears unmoved_,
_at a recital apparently full of tragedy_. _Only the eyes of the dragons
move_, _and the heads of the Buddhas go slowly like pendulums_. _When
she has finished speaking_, HIP LOONG _makes reply_.
"This is how passion always ends. I have lived for a thousand years; and
on this planet it is ever the same."
MAH PHRU _is not listening_.
"How can I go to my children?" _she demands_, _once again_.
"I can turn you into a bird," _the Wizard says_. "You can fly to the
palace and walk and watch ever on that terrace in the rose gardens above
the sea."
"What bird?" _she asks_, _trembling_.
"You shall have the form of the white paddy bird, because, though a woman
and foolish as women ever are, you are very pure ivory. O! daughter of
man and of love."
_To this_ MAH PHRU _dissents_. _She paces the long room_.
"Transform me into a peacock; they are more beautiful."
_The Wizard_, _leaning on his elbow_, _smiles_, _and the smile is a
revelation of a mocking comprehension_.
"So be it." _He bows his head_.
_The lights fade one by one_.
CURTAIN