Everything else has its limits, but your childishness is absolutely unbounded.

Do you know the reason? It is because we are really nothing but children. And everything else has its limitations except the child.

_Dada_

Won't you ever attain Age?

No, we shall never attain Age.

We shall die old, but never attain Age.

_Chandra_

When we meet Age, we shall shave his head, and put him on a donkey, and send him across the river.

Oh, you can save yourself the trouble of shaving his head for Age is bald.

(_They sing_.)

_Our hair shall never turn grey, Never.

There is no blank in this world for us, no break in our road, It may be an illusion that we follow, But it shall never play us false, Never._

(_The Leader sings_.)

_Our hair shall never turn grey, Never.

We will never doubt the world and shut our eyes to ponder.

Never.

We will not grope in the maze of our mind.

We flow with the flood of things, from the mountain to the sea, We will never be lost in the desert sand, Never._

We can tell, by his looks, that Dada will some day go to that Old Man, to receive his lessons.

_Leader_

Which Old Man?

The Old Man of the line of Adam.

He dwells in a cave, and never thinks of dying.

_Leader_

Where did you learn about him?

Oh, every one talks about him, And it is in the books also.

_Leader_

What does he look like?

Some say he is white, like the skull of a dead man. And some say he is dark, like the socket of a skeleton's eye.

But haven't you heard any news of him, Leader?

_Leader_

I don't believe in him at all.

Well, that goes entirely against current opinion. That Old Man is more existent than anything else. He lives within the ribs of creation.

According to our Pundit, it is we who have no existence. You can't be certain whether we are, or are not.

_Chandra_

We? Oh, we are too brand new altogether. We haven't yet got our credentials to prove that we exist.

_Leader_

Have you really gone and opened communication with the Pundits?

Why? What harm is there in that, Leader?

_Leader_

You will become pale, like the white mist in autumn. Even the least colour of blood will disappear from your mind. I have a suggestion.

What, Leader? What?

_Leader_

You were looking out for a play?

Yes, yes, we got quite frantic about it.

We thought it over so vigorously, that people had to run to the King's court to lodge a complaint.

_Leader_

Well, I can suggest a play which will be new.

What?--What?--Tell us.

_Leader_

Go and capture the Old Man.

That is new, no doubt, but we very much doubt if it's a play.

_Leader_