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ANGEL (_turning the hour-gla.s.s_)
That you will die when the last grain of sand Has fallen through this gla.s.s.
WISE MAN
I have a wife.
Children and pupils that I cannot leave: Why must I die, my time is far away?
ANGEL
You have to die because no soul has pa.s.sed The heavenly threshold since you have opened school, But gra.s.s grows there, and rust upon the hinge; And they are lonely that must keep the watch.
WISE MAN
And whither shall I go when I am dead?
ANGEL
You have denied there is a purgatory, Therefore that gate is closed; you have denied There is a heaven, and so that gate is closed.
WISE MAN
Where then? For I have said there is no h.e.l.l.
ANGEL
h.e.l.l is the place of those who have denied; They find there what they planted and what dug, A Lake of s.p.a.ces, and a Wood of Nothing, And wander there and drift, and never cease Wailing for substance.
WISE MAN
Pardon me, blessed Angel, I have denied and taught the like to others.
But how could I believe before my sight Had come to me?
ANGEL
It is too late for pardon.
WISE MAN
Had I but met your gaze as now I met it-- But how can you that live but where we go In the uncertainty of dizzy dreams Know why we doubt? Parting, sickness and death, The rotting of the gra.s.s, tempest and drouth, These are the messengers that came to me.
Why are you silent? You carry in your hands G.o.d's pardon, and you will not give it me.
Why are you silent? Were I not afraid, I'd kiss your hands--no, no, the hem of your dress.
ANGEL
Only when all the world has testified, May soul confound it, crying out in joy, And laughing on its lonely precipice.
What's dearth and death and sickness to the soul That knows no virtue but itself? Nor could it, So trembling with delight and mother-naked, Live unabashed if the arguing world stood by.
WISE MAN
It is as hard for you to understand Why we have doubted, as it is for us To banish doubt--what folly have I said?
There can be nothing that you do not know: Give me a year--a month--a week--a day, I would undo what I have done--an hour-- Give me until the sand has run in the gla.s.s.
ANGEL
Though you may not undo what you have done, I have this power--if you but find one soul, Before the sands have fallen, that still believes, One fish to lie and sp.a.w.n among the stones Till the great fisher's net is full again, You may, the purgatorial fire being pa.s.sed, Spring to your peace.
[_Pupils sing in the distance._
'Who stole your wits away And where are they gone?'
WISE MAN
My pupils come, Before you have begun to climb the sky I shall have found that soul. They say they doubt, But what their mothers dinned into their ears Cannot have been so lightly rooted up; Besides, I can disprove what I once proved-- And yet give me some thought, some argument, More mighty than my own.
ANGEL
Farewell--farewell, For I am weary of the weight of time.
[_Angel goes out. Wise Man makes a step to follow and pauses.
Some of his pupils come in at the other side of the stage._
FIRST PUPIL
Master, master, you must choose the subject.
[_Enter other pupils with Fool, about whom they dance; all the pupils may have little cus.h.i.+ons on which presently they seat themselves._
SECOND PUPIL
Here is a subject--where have the Fool's wits gone? (_singing_) 'Who dragged your wits away Where no one knows?
Or have they run off On their own pair of shoes?'
FOOL
Give me a penny.
FIRST PUPIL
The Master will find your wits,
SECOND PUPIL
And when they are found, you must not beg for pennies.
THIRD PUPIL
They are hidden somewhere in the badger's hole, But you must carry an old candle end If you would find them.