MICH. Oh, don't speak of her-- (_Turns away, hides his head for a minute, turns round with a sudden outburst._) Yes, speak of her! Speak of her! I haven't heard her name for so long! Let me hear it again--Audrie! Audrie! FATHER H. (_sternly to SIR LYOLF_). Do you hear? Let him alone. Don't torment him by dragging up the past. He has buried it. MICH. No! No! No! Why should I deceive you? Why should I deceive myself? All this pretended peace is no peace! There is no peace for me without her, either in this world or the next! FATHER H. Hush! Hush! How dare you speak so! MICH. I must. The live agony of speech is better than the dead agony of silence, the eternal days and nights without her! Forget her? I can't forget! Look! (_Takes out a faded red rose._) SIR LYOLF. What is it? MICH. A flower she threw me in church the last time I saw her. And I wouldn't take it! I sent her away! I sent her away! And her flower was trampled on. The next night I got up in the middle of the night and went over to the church and found it on the altar steps. I've kept it ever since. (_To his father._) Talk to me about her. I want somebody to talk to me about her. Tell me something you remember of her--some little speech of hers.--Do talk to me about her. SIR LYOLF. My poor fellow! MICH. I can't forget. The past is always with me! I live in it. It's my life. You think I'm here in this place with you--I've never been here. I'm living with her two years ago. I have no present, no future. I've only the past when she was with me. Give me the past! Oh! give me back only one moment of that past, one look, one word from her--and then take all that remains of me and do what you like with it. Oh! (_Goes back to bench, sits._) SIR LYOLF (_to FATHER HILARY_). You see! I must tell him---- FATHER H. No, not while he's in this mad state. Let's quiet him first. 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.