START: A wide iron-barred gate stretches almost the whole width of the cell in which Elesin is imprisoned. His wrists are encased in thick iron bracelets, chained together; he stands against the bars, looking out [. . .] Pilkings now in a police officer’s uniform enters noiselessly, observes him for a while. Then he coughs ostentatiously and approaches. Leans against the bars near a corner, his back to Elesin. He is obviously trying to fall in mood with him. Some moments’ silence.

Pilkings: You seem fascinated by the moon.

Elesin: (After a pause) Yes, ghostly one. Your twin-brother up there engages my thoughts.

[... ... ...]

END: Elesin: Make yourself clear, white one.

Pilkings: I have lived among you long enough to learn a saying or two. One came to my mind tonight when I stepped into