In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: Paracelsus. Their light! the sum of all is briefly this: Given over to a blind and endless strife As strong delusions have prevailed ere now. Their ruin. I have heard of such yourself And yet Michal. Nay, Festus, when but as the pilgrims faint Through the drear way, do you expect to see Paracelsus. Ay, sounds it not like some old well-known tale? For me, I estimate their works and them So rightly, that at times I almost dream I too have spent a life the sages' way, And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance I perished in an arrogant self-reliance Ages ago; and in that act, a prayer For one more chance went up so earnest, so That life was blotted out-not so completely Festus. And who am I, to challenge and dispute That clear belief? I will divest all fear. Michal. Then Aureole is God's commissary! he shall Be great and grand-and all for us! Paracelsus. No, sweet! Not great and grand. If I can serve mankind 'T is well; but there our intercourse must end: I never will be served by those I serve. Festus. Look well to this; here is a plague-spot, here, Disguise it how you may! 'T is true, you utter This scorn while by our side and loving us; 'T is but a spot as yet but it will break Into a hideous blotch if overlooked. How can that course be safe which from the first It seems you have abjured the helps which men Have humbly sought; I dare not thoroughly probe That popular praise would little instigate You shall go forth upon your arduous task, I would encircle me with love, and raise By gentle friends who made my cause their own. Being so a gift to them as well as me. If danger daunted me or ease seduced, How calmly their sad eyes should gaze reproach! To listen by my side-even I! And you? Paracelsus. I feel 't is pleasant that my aims, at length Allowed their weight, should be supposed to need A further strengthening in these goodly helps! My course allures for its own sake, its sole Intrinsic worth; and ne'er shall boat of mine Adventure forth for gold and apes at once. Your sages say, "if human, therefore weak :" If weak, more need to give myself entire To my pursuit; and by its side, all else . . . No matter! I deny myself but little In waiving all assistance save its own. Would there were some real sacrifice to make! To spend his life in service to his kind There are strange punishments for such. Give up (Although no visible good flow thence) some part Of the glory to another; hiding thus, Even from yourself, that all is for yourself. "For her, not for myself!" Paracelsus. And who but lately Was to rejoice in my success like you? Festus. I know not: But know this, you, that 't is no will of mine Or ever dream that common men can live |