OHANO. That's what troubles me. But you were fettered by this island life and you broke through the bars of convention. How did you do it?
NIJO. [Sadly.] Ohano, I would not spoil your life by telling you.
OHANO. Spoil it? What do you think is happening to it now? Oh, Nijo, can't you understand I'm stagnating—dying in this commonplace island life.
NIJO. I thought that about myself, too, when I started my climb to glory; but scarcely a moon had passed before I realized the loneliness of great heights.
OHANO. [Tigerishly.] Are you trying to turn me from my wish—to have all the island's glory for yourself?
NIJO. No, but only the valley people enjoy the sublimity of a mountain.
OHANO. [Scornfully.] Ha!
NIJO. Those who reach the top have lost their perspective. All they see are the lonely tops of other mountains.
OHANO. [Sublimely.] But they've had the joy of the climb!
NIJO. And worth what—no more than the mist of the sea.