Part 11 (1/2)

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