AYRE: [to FRANCIS and PETER] The circle is burst. We is burstin’ int’ the glommen. Outburst. Bellsademon land; cradlepain. Circle is burst. Nowt more outcastin’. Nowt more sin fer bread.

She gives MAC a signal and he opens the box.

See!

The two young men look inside the box.

Goldy sow o’ the ’airloomin’ pit.

FRANCIS takes out the doll seen before.

Sa, Sa.

He takes out the dress seen earlier.

Promin’. ’Airloomin’.

He takes out the book.

FRANCIS: What is it?

PETER: The writing’s too faint to see.

AYRE: [motioning to the distance] Way! Way!

PETER: She’s telling us to go.

FRANCIS suddenly realises.

FRANCIS: No, this is their luggage, their belongings.

AYRE: Nowt more outcastin’. Nowt more outcastin’.

FRANCIS: She wants us to take them back with us. You want to go back with us, Ayre?

AYRE: Yea.

Silence. The storm breaks. AYRE looks at the grief-stricken ANGEL as she cradles MELORNE.

Nowt more outcastin’. Nowt more outcastin’…

SCENE TWELVE

The Archers’ garden, twilight. It is a warm evening. In the background is the Greek temple. A long table with an expensive setting is ready: porcelain crockery, silverware and crystal glasses; food is on the table. ELIZABETH escorts GEORGE ROSS, Federal M.P., into the garden.

ELIZABETH: It was such a lovely evening we decided to have it out here. We expected you later.

GEORGE: The Cabinet meeting took less time than I thought.

ELIZABETH: They won’t be long.

GEORGE: I’m most intrigued to see them. Your husband’s report was extraordinary.

[He notices the Greek temple.] Not many of those in Australian backyards.

ELIZABETH: It was built way back in eighteen forty—only Australians could say ‘way back in eighteen forty’—by my grandfather. He loved Greece, Greek culture; a family trait. So he built this little Olympus. It was said that he had a giant streak of paganism in his soul. The architect, an ex-convict, unfortunately used poor materials. It took the Parthenon two thousand years to crumble; it took our temple less than a hundred. Occasionally I let the spirits of the Greeks take hold of me and I put on an ancient tragedy. Once we performed Iphigenia in Tauris to help a charity for unwed mothers and, do you know, some people looked down on us. But being an unwed mother is so human: one moment of passion, a lifetime of misery. Years ago, William and I could have said those speeches in ancient Greek and most of the audience would have understood; many of them were academics and artists, of course. That was our greatest period of civilisation. From then on it’s been all downhill. Romans conquered the world and Mussolini takes years to conquer a few Ethiopian hill tribes. Ah, who are these handsome young men?

PETER and FRANCIS enter wearing tuxedos. FRANCIS is agitated.

Mr Ross, I would like to introduce my son, Peter. Peter, this is Mr George Ross, Federal Minister for Health.