No More Learning

WISE MAN.

But sometimes when you are alone, when I am in the school and the
children asleep, do you not think about the saints, about the things
you used to believe in? What do you think of when you are alone?

BRIDGET [_considering_].

I think about nothing. Sometimes I wonder if the linen is bleaching
white, or I go out to see if the crows are picking up the chickens'
food.

WISE MAN.

Oh, what can I do! Is there nobody who believes he can never die? I
must go and find somebody! [_He goes towards the door, but stops with
his eyes fixed on the hour-glass. _] I cannot go out; I cannot leave
that. Go, and call my pupils again. I will make them understand. I will
say to them that only amid spiritual terror, or only when all that
laid hold on life is shaken can we see truth.
There is something in
Plato, but--no, do not call them. They would answer as I have bid.

BRIDGET.

You want somebody to get up an argument with.

WISE MAN.

Oh, look out of the door and tell me if there is anybody there in the
street. I cannot leave this glass; somebody might shake it! Then the
sand would fall more quickly.

BRIDGET.

I don't understand what you are saying. [_Looks out. _] There is a great
crowd of people talking to your pupils.

WISE MAN.

Oh, run out, Bridget, and see if they have found somebody that all the
time I was teaching understood nothing or did not listen!

BRIDGET.

[_Wiping her arms in her apron and pulling down her
sleeves.