ALEXANDRA—If?
AGI—If I hadn’t two—an outer and an inner life.
ALEXANDRA—Have you? I never noticed.
AGI—Because your highness believes in miracles, too.... You believe
my cold and impassive face ... cold and impassive ... even when it is
slapped.
ALEXANDRA—[_In surprise._] Is your face slapped?
AGI—Every day.
ALEXANDRA—Who slaps your face? [_He does not answer._] Who? Do we? Do I?
[_He nods his head._] Without knowing it?
AGI—They are the worst slaps of all.
ALEXANDRA—I must say ... this is more mysterious than the stars. Do I
hurt you?
AGI—Every day your highness looks upon a miracle. A man’s face, his
voice, all his outward appearance remain calm and unruffled ... while
inwardly he burns. And you never ask for the explanation of the miracle.
ALEXANDRA—The explanation?
AGI—[_With rising passion._] Why does your highness suppose I endure it
all? Why do I go on teaching, humbly, silently and submissively? Why do
I stifle my individuality? Why am I here at all? [_ALBERT enters at left
with two ladies._]