MARMADUKE Even so,
              The Sparrow so on the house-top, and I,
              The weakest of God’s creatures, stand resolved
              To abide the issue of my act, alone.

OSWALD Now would you? and for ever?—­My young Friend,
              As time advances either we become
              The prey or masters of our own past deeds. 
              Fellowship we must have, willing or no;
              And if good Angels fail, slack in their duty,
              Substitutes, turn our faces where we may,
              Are still forthcoming; some which, though they bear
              Ill names, can render no ill services,
              In recompense for what themselves required. 
              So meet extremes in this mysterious world,
              And opposites thus melt into each other.

MARMADUKE Time, since Man first drew breath, has never moved
              With such a weight upon his wings as now;
              But they will soon be lightened.

OSWALD Ay, look up—­
              Cast round you your mind’s eye, and you will learn
              Fortitude is the child of Enterprise: 
              Great actions move our admiration, chiefly
              Because they carry in themselves an earnest
              That we can suffer greatly.

MARMADUKE Very true.

OSWALD Action is transitory—­a step, a blow,
              The motion of a muscle—­this way or that—­
              ’Tis done, and in the after-vacancy
              We wonder at ourselves like men betrayed: 
              Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark,
              And shares the nature of infinity.

MARMADUKE Truth—­and I feel it.

OSWALD What! if you had bid
              Eternal farewell to unmingled joy
              And the light dancing of the thoughtless heart;
              It is the toy of fools, and little fit
              For such a world as this.  The wise abjure
              All thoughts whose idle composition lives
              In the entire forgetfulness of pain. 
             —­I see I have disturbed you.

MARMADUKE By no means.

OSWALD Compassion!—­pity!—­pride can do without them;
              And what if you should never know them more!—­
              He is a puny soul who, feeling pain,
              Finds ease because another feels it too. 
              If e’er I open out this heart of mine
              It shall be for a nobler end—­to teach
              And not to purchase puling sympathy. 
             —­Nay, you are pale.

MARMADUKE
                        It may be so.