SIR LYOLF. Then we’ll take him to her!
FATHER H. When he is calmer.
SIR LYOLF. Take care it isn’t too late.
FATHER H. (goes to MICHAEL, puts his hand on MICHAEL’S shoulder). This is weakness. Be more brave! Control yourself!
MICH. Have I not controlled myself? Who trained and guided himself with more care than I? Who worked as I worked, prayed as I prayed, kept watch over himself, denied himself, sacrificed himself as I did? And to what end? Who had higher aims and resolves than I? They were as high as heaven, and they’ve tumbled all round me! Look at my life, the inconsequence, the inconsistency, the futility, the foolishness of it all. What a patchwork of glory and shame! Control myself? Why? Let me alone! Let me drift! What does it matter where I go? I’m lost in the dark! One way is as good as another!
(The vesper bell heard off at some little distance.)
FATHER H. You’ve wandered away from the road, and now you complain that the maps are wrong. Get back to the highway, and you’ll find that the maps are right.
MICH. Forgive me, Uncle Ned—I’m ashamed of this. I shall get over it. I’ll talk with you by and by. I will submit myself. I will be ruled. Father, come to me. You nursed me yourself night after night when I was delirious with the fever. I was a child then. I’m a child now. Talk to me about her. Talk to me about Audrie!
(AUDRIE’S face, wasted and hectic, appears just over the doorstep, coming up the steps at back; during the following conversation she raises herself very slowly and with great difficulty up the steps, leaning on the wall.)
MICH. I’ve heard nothing of her. Where do you think she is? In England? I think I could be patient, I think I could bear my life if I knew for certain that all was well with her. If I could know that she is happy—No, she isn’t happy—I know that.