Scene
The Same
HUGO waking, ORION seated near him. Daybreak.
Hugo:Oh, weary spirit! oh, cloudy eyes!Oh, heavy and misty brain!Yon riddle that lies ‘twixt earth and skies,Ye seek to explore in vain!See, the east is grey; put those scrolls away,And hide them far from my sight;I will toil and study no more by day,I will watch no longer by night;I have labour’d and long’d, and now I seemNo nearer the mystic goal;Orion, I fain would devise some schemeTo quiet this restless soul;To distant climes I would fain depart—I would travel by sea or land.
Orion:Nay, I warn’d you of this, “Short life, long art”,The proverb, though stale, will stand;Full many a sage from youth to ageHas toil’d to obtain what youWould master at once. In a pilgrimage,Forsooth, there is nothing new;Though virtue, I ween, in change of scene,And vigour in change of air,Will always be, and has always been,And travel is a tonic rare.Still, the restless, discontented moodFor the time alone is eased;It will soon return with hunger renew’d,And appetite unappeased.Nathless I could teach a shorter planTo win that wisdom you crave,That lore that is seldom attain’d by manFrom the cradle down to the grave.
Hugo:Such lore I had rather do without,It hath nothing mystic nor awfulIn my eye. Nay, I despise and doubtThe arts that are term’d unlawful;‘Twixt science and magic the line lies plain,I shall never wittingly pass it;There is now no compact between us twain.
Orion: But an understanding tacit.You have prospered much since the day we met;You were then a landless knight;You now have honour and wealth, and yetI never can serve you right.
Hugo:Enough; we will start this very day,Thurston, Eric, and I,And the baffled visions will pass away,And the restless fires will die.
Orion:Till the fuel expires that feeds those firesThey smoulder and live unspent;Give a mortal all that his heart desires,He is less than ever content.