ARFI Why not?
WULDOR His looks are wild, His words were bitter. When he spoke of thee, He laughed and scowled.
ARFI Say we will come to him. [Exit Wuldor.]
THORDIS [Whom Arfi approaches, with a warning gesture.] Who is it?
ARFI [Aside.] Yorul; he has asked to speak With Egil.
THORDIS Ought we to admit him?
ARFI It is wise, For so may Egil measure what he is By what he was. Look; he has knelt to pray. The time is fitting; we will leave him so.
THORDIS [Leaving the tapestry.] How noble he looks! Shall we not tell him now About to-morrow?
ARFI We will tell him all When he has prayed. [Exeunt.]
EGIL [Solus.] To pray—to pray is simple: “This is my heart’s desire—take it—’tis yours!” And so—emancipation. O you gods, If through these prison walls you may behold The mock rites of this childish temple, hear me! Knowledge—knowledge, that is my heart’s desire. That is the soul-inebriating cup Which hath transformed me half unto your image And still hath drugg’d the other brutish half To lethargy and dreams. To know, to learn, And evermore to learn! To watch new worlds Kindling from out the dark of consciousness, Fresh firmaments gathering from drop to drop Of common morning dew; to be upborne On the light-trailing wings of understanding And scan far off the former crawling-place And wolf-haunt of the spirit, to spread those wings At one’s own will and mount into the sun, Searing the mind with ecstasy—you gods! That is my heart’s desire: take it from me! Take it, ’tis yours, for it hath come from you, But when of that you have bereft me, leave Freedom instead, and innocence. [Enter Yorul.] What’s there? Speak.