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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339873" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Scene 1. A Castle in Normandy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hugo. <br>Well, boy, what is it?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Henry. <br>The feast is spread.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hugo. <br>Why tarry the guests for me?<br>Let Eric sit at the table's head;<br>Alone I desire to be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Henry goes out.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What share have I at their festive board?<br>Their mirth I can only mar;<br>To me no pleasure their cups afford,<br>Their songs on my silence jar.<br>With an aching eye and a throbbing brain,<br>And yet with a hopeful heart,<br>I must toil and strain with the planets again<br>When the rays of the sun depart;<br>He who must needs with the topers tope,<br>And the feasters feast in the hall,<br>How can he hope with a matter to cope<br>That is immaterial?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Orion. <br>He who his appetite stints and curbs,<br>Shut up in the northern wing,<br>With his rye-bread flavoured with bitter herbs,<br>And his draught from the tasteless spring,<br>Good sooth, he is but a sorry clown.<br>There are some good things upon earth-<br>Pleasure and power and fair renown,<br>And wisdom of worldly worth!<br>There is wisdom in follies that charm the sense,<br>In follies that light the eyes,<br>But the folly to wisdom that makes pretence<br>Is alone by the fool termed wise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hugo. <br>Thy speech, Orion, is somewhat rude;<br>Perchance, having jeer'd and scoff'd<br>To thy fill, thou wilt curb thy jeering mood;<br>I wot thou hast served me oft.<br>This plan of the skies seems fairly traced;<br>What errors canst thou detect?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Orion. <br>Nay, the constellations are misplaced,<br>And the satellites incorrect;<br>Leave the plan to me; you have time to seek<br>An hour of needful rest,<br>The night is young and the planets are weak;<br>See, the sun still reddens the west.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hugo. <br>I fear I shall sleep too long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Orion. <br>If you do<br>It matters not much; the sky<br>Is cloudy, the stars will be faint and few;<br>Now, list to my lullaby.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Hugo reclines on a couch.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Sings.)<br>Still the darkling skies are red,<br>Though the day-god's course is run;<br>Heavenly night-lamps overhead<br>Flash and twinkle one by one.<br>Idle dreamer-earth-born elf!<br>Vainly grasping heavenly things,<br>Wherefore weariest thou thyself<br>With thy vain imaginings?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the tree of knowledge first,<br>Since his parents pluck'd the fruit,<br>Man, with partial knowledge curs'd,<br>Of the tree still seeks the root;<br>Musty volumes crowd thy shelf<br>Which of these true knowledge brings?<br>Wherefore weariest thou thyself<br>With thy vain imaginings?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Will the stars from heaven descend?<br>Can the earth-worm soar and rise?<br>Can the mortal comprehend<br>Heaven's own hallow'd mysteries?<br>Greed and glory, power and pelf<br>These are won by clowns and kings;<br>Wherefore weariest thou thyself<br>With thy vain imaginings?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sow and reap, and toil and spin;<br>Eat and drink, and dream and die;<br>Man may strive, yet never win,<br>And I laugh the while and cry<br>Idle dreamer, earth-born elf!<br>Vainly grasping heavenly things,<br>Wherefore weariest thou thyself<br>With thy vain imaginings?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He sleeps, and his sleep appears serene,<br>Whatever dreams it has brought him</div><div style="margin:10px 0">[Looks at the plans.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If he knows what those hieroglyphics mean,<br>He's wiser than one who taught him.<br>Why does he number the Pole-star thus?<br>Or the Pleiades why combine?<br>And what is he doing with Sirius,<br>In the devil's name or in mine?<br>Man thinks, discarding the beaten track,<br>That the sins of his youth are slain,<br>When he seeks fresh sins, but he soon comes back<br>To his old pet sins again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Adam+Lindsay+Gordon">Adam Lindsay Gordon</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=339873" data-title="Scene 1. A Castle in Normandy de Adam Lindsay Gordon" data-description="Hugo. 
Well, boy, what is it?

Henry. 
The feast is spread.

Hugo. 
Why tarry the guests for me?
Let Eric sit at the table's head;
Alone I desire to be.

[Henry goes out.]

What share have I at their festive board?
Their mirth I can only mar;
To m..."></div>
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