Read Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Online
Authors: SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (1086 page)
Reason. That’s better than being burned at the stake. In old Giordano Bruno’s time you and I used to blaze together. We are getting a little of our own back now. What are you working at ?
Science. I was plotting out a power station to light the travellers in the dark places of the path.
Reason. And where do you think the path leads to ?
Science. Oh, I know nothing of such matters.
Reason. Well, you at least know that you exist.
Science. Nothing of the sort. I may be altogether subjective. I may be somebody’s dream.
Reason. Oh, come, come! Cheer up ! Is there nothing solid you can get hold of ?
Science. Nothing reliable. I used to work things down to the atom. Now it is the electron. I suspect it will end in the ether. There is no finality.
Reason. But a purposeful force behind it all ?
Science. Pure impersonal laws.
Reason. Which made themselves ?
Science. Exactly.
Reason. Ah, there you and I must agree to differ.
Science. When you differ from me, you cease to be yourself.
Reason. The older you grow, the more dogmatic you get. You know, you old rascal, if you got the upper hand, you are capable of burning a few people on your own account.
Science. Don’t be funny ! I am trying to work.
Reason. But you are an honest and useful old chap. A little limited and a bit inhuman — that’s all. You should marry Imagination.
Science. Half-sister of Inspiration. Thank you, I have had quite enough of that family.
Reason. You’d do her good — and she you.
Science. Well, I must go and fix up this installation. Don’t forget that you are rather limited yourself. Here are some travellers coming. Where’s that voltmeter ? And the induction coil ? Thank you. Well, if you like to travel with me, come along ![Exeunt.
[Enter a man and a woman]
The Man. Thank heaven that we have shaken off the guides. They make my head ache with their chatter.
The Woman. And yet, dear, they all point us upwards.
The Man. Some of them seemed to me to be going downwards themselves.
The Woman. We must go as they point.
The Man. Yes, woman seems to need a guide.
The Woman. We are lost without one. I like a guide and one who is sure of himself — one who has no doubt that he knows the way.
The Man. Whether he really does or not ?
The Woman. One can at least hope that what he says is truth.
The Man. Well, I used to trust them. But they differed so much that I took to guiding myself with the little help that old Reason could give me. Let us rest by this well.
The Woman. Yes, let us rest. Oh, it is a weary, weary journey.
The Man. We have love to help us along — and that is more than many can say.
The Woman. Yes, if love were not with us, I should indeed despair. Love has been our true helper.
The Man. And yet, do you remember that pale sad-faced creature who has walked again and again so very close to us ?
The Woman. You mean Sorrow.
The Man. Exactly. Sorrow. I am not sure that she is not the best guide of all. We seem to have risen higher always when she has been our companion.
The Woman. It is true. I shudder when I think of her, and yet she has surely helped us upon our way. How pale and weary the poor child is ! [Looks at child.]
The Man. Put him here among the ferns.
The Woman. He is worn out. Rest there, my darling!
The Man. She was with us when our boy died.
The Woman. And that night, as we sat together hand in hand, each thinking of the other’s grief, then and only then did we seem for one moment, as we looked upwards, to see some break in the clouds and to know that there was indeed something there which makes the long journey worth while.
The Man. Yes, I felt that. I saw the City. Just for a moment I seemed to see the shining walls. [Looks at the boy.] Dear laddie, how weary he is ! Should we wake him and give him food ?
The Woman. Let him rest. He can have food when he wakes. I am so very tired.
The Man. Dear heart, what a comrade you have been! Poor little feet, worn out by tramping at my side.
The Woman. But oh, it was worth it, my own man who never gave a thought to himself.
The Man. How could I when —— Hullo, who are these ?
[Three roisterers come singing down the path.]
The Man. Heh, friends ! you are going the wrong way.
A Roisterer. What d’you mean, the wrong way ? How the deuce do you know where we want to get to ?
The Man. Surely you want to get up to the City Beautiful, like the rest of us.
Roisterer. Not much. We’ve tried that game, and it won’t work. No, no, my friend, you can do the climbing and hunt for something which is up in the clouds of dreamland. Give us something solid.
2nd Roisterer. That’s the idea. Something solid. What’s the use of talking about things that are far away. We want to enjoy ourselves here and now. One City of pleasure down in the plain is worth many City Beautifuls up on the hill-top. Come on, my lads !
3RD Roisterer. You look tired out. No wonder, when you are climbing all the time. It’s much easier to go down hill with us.
The Man. But you only have to come back again.
Roisterer. Oh, bother the fellow. He’s a kill-joy. Come on, boys. We’ll have a rare time down there.
The Man. No, no, don’t be foolish. You’ve got so far. You are bound sooner or later to get to the top. What is the use of going down when you will have all the climbing to do over again.
Roisterer. That’s the future. Hang the future ! We’re in the present.
2nd Roisterer. But there’s something in what the fellow says. We were not started on this journey for the purpose of having a good time, were we ? We were started that we might get to the top.
3rd Roisterer. Well, I want some liquor, and I am going down for it. Come on, Jack, if you are coming.
2nd Roisterer.. No, I think I’ll start up the hill again. I remember what my mother used to say Roisterer. Oh, bother your mother! Come on, Tom. Leave the milksop here, if he wants to stay.
[The two go on down the hill. The other goes slowly up.]
The Man. Poor souls! I’ve been down before now myself.
The Woman. Yes, we have all done it and learned our lesson.
[Enter Sorrow, who sits unobserved on rock at back.]
The Man. Are you less weary now, dear ?
The Woman. Yes, yes, if only the little fellow is rested we can soon go on.
The Man. Do you remember, dear, that when we lost our way, and when it was so dark as we crossed the great marsh of Doubt, I told you that the best guide was our dear little dead lad whom I saw in front of us ?
The Woman. Yes, I saw him too.
The Man. I asked old Science about it. He said it was impossible.
The Woman. Yes, but when you asked him the second time, Science was not so sure about it. At first he thought Imagination had a hand in it. But when he learned that we both saw it, and that Imagination was not present at all, he was more serious about it.
The Man. Yes, but since then I have seen our boy again and again. He is still living, and he is leading us to the City Beautiful, for he has found his own way there. [Looks round.] Who is that over there ?
The Woman. It looks like Sorrow.
The Man. I’m afraid of that woman. I wish she would not come with us.
The Woman. But she did help us up. Let us ask her to the well.
The Man. Won’t you come and join us at the well ?
[Sorrow advances and sits down.]
The Woman. Poor thing! You’ll reach the City some day, will you not ?
Sorrow. No, there is no place for me there. I am stationed on the path. You will always find me there.
The Woman. Every one avoids you, and is afraid of you.
Sorrow. And yet those who have known me make better progress than those who have not.
The Man. Yes, I have known some people who said that they had never met Sorrow, and they were not people whom I wish to travel with. Their hearts were hard to others for they could not understand. Now, dear, if you are rested, we must go on.
The Woman. Yes, dear, we must go on. [Goes to the child.] Oh, John, John, our little boy is dead !
The Man. My God ! Oh, my poor, poor wife !
The Woman. John, dear John, it will break your great heart.
[They embrace each other and weep.]
[Sorrow blesses them and moves slowly away.]
The Man. Well, it is the darkest pass of all. How black it looks above our heads !
The Woman. But surely I see the upward path more clearly.
The Man. Yes, yes, see how it winds over the shoulder of the hill. And see the Towers of the City. Never have we seen it so clearly. Come, while the way is open.
The Woman. Can we leave our bairn ?
The Man. Remember the other. He is ahead of us on the path. We have two guides, not one. Come, brave comrade, come !
[They place their cloak over the child and turn to ascend the path.]
