_Par._ I feel 't is pleasant that my aims, at length Allowed their weight, should be supposed to need A further strengthening in these goodly helps! My course allures for its own sake, its sole Intrinsic worth; and ne'er shall boat of mine Adventure forth for gold and apes at once. Your sages say, "if human, therefore weak:" If weak, more need to give myself entire To my pursuit; and by its side, all else... No matter! I deny myself but little In waiving all assistance save its own. Would there were some real sacrifice to make! Your friends the sages threw their joys away, While I must be content with keeping mine. _Fest._ But do not cut yourself from human weal! You cannot thrive--a man that dares effect To spend his life in service to his kind For no reward of theirs, unbound to them By any tie; nor do so, Aureole! No-- There are strange punishments for such. Give up (Although no visible good flow thence) some part Of the glory to another; hiding thus, Even from yourself, that all is for yourself. Say, say almost to God--"I have done all For her, not for myself!" _Par._ And who but lately Was to rejoice in my success like you? Whom should I love but both of you? _Fest._ I know not: But know this, you, that 't is no will of mine You should abjure the lofty claims you make; And this the cause--I can no longer seek To overlook the truth, that there would be A monstrous spectacle upon the earth, Beneath the pleasant sun, among the trees: --A being knowing not what love is. Hear me! You are endowed with faculties which bear Annexed to them as 't were a dispensation To summon meaner spirits to do their will And gather round them at their need; inspiring Such with a love themselves can never feel, Passionless 'mid their passionate votaries. I know not if you joy in this or no, Or ever dream that common men can live On objects you prize lightly, but which make Their heart's sole treasure: the affections seem Beauteous at most to you, which we must taste Or die: and this strange quality accords, I know not how, with you; sits well upon That luminous brow, though in another it scowls An eating brand, a shame. I dare not judge you. The rules of right and wrong thus set aside, There's no alternative--I own you one Of higher order, under other laws Than bind us; therefore, curb not one bold glance! 'T is best aspire. Once mingled with us all... _Mich._ Stay with us, Aureole! cast those hopes away, And stay with us! An angel warns me, too, Man should be humble; you are very proud: And God, dethroned, has doleful plagues for such! --Warns me to have in dread no quick repulse, No slow defeat, but a complete success: You will find all you seek, and perish so!