Louis— Suppose so; if it shines.
Abbot—And if they say it shines?
Louis—(After a pause.) I suppose so.
Abbot—Shall Plato take Saint Giles' faith away?
That, Louis, is the question of all time.
Louis—If he can give him Plato's.
Abbot— If he can.
And if he cannot?
Louis— If he cannot— (He stops.)
Abbot— What?
Ready to give to one who cannot take,
Who cannot see my light beyond her light.
Shall I step in upon my mother's prayer
With noise, and say: "But see, yours is no god."
And pick and pound and blow her hope away
And loose her tears upon my father's corpse? (A pause.)
Louis? (A pause.) Shall I?
Louis— (Walking about with his head down.)
I have naught to say.
Abbot—Do I still seem to be a hypocrite?