BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

Isn't there aspiration in all this,

(_Indicating the house_)

A reaching out toward G.o.d, and a love, too, Of all that G.o.d hath made?

FELLOW-TOWNSMAN.

The river there.

RALPH ARDSLEY.

The walls will be here when the wine is gone.

FIRST STRANGER.

But public sentiment.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

_Vox populi_.

FELLOW-TOWNSMAN.

People don't stop to think of what he's done.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

Exactly. When an axe falls on one's toes, The service that it's been, that's out of mind.

And yet you throw the bruise, the moment's pain, In one side, and in the other a cleared land With homes and fields----

SECOND STRANGER.

That's true.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

And populous towns.

The balance will be struck up yonder, brother.

RALPH ARDSLEY.

Show me one man that's in the public eye Because he stands for something, towers above them, That hasn't had them yelping at his heels.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

You know the Editor of the Courier?

(_The Strangers shake hands with Ardsley_)

SECOND STRANGER.

You didn't come back.

RALPH ARDSLEY.

I've troubles of my own.

(_Walks back in the hall_)

SECOND STRANGER.

We were together in the Legislature.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

(_Stopping near the door, forward right, as if for a final word_)

Speaking of Egerton, some years ago I saw that statue in the New York harbor, The sea mists blown about it, now the head And now an outflash of tremendous bronze About the waist. 'Is that the thing,' said I, 'They talk so much about?' Next day 'twas clear.

FIRST STRANGER.

Looked very different.

BISHOP HARDBROOKE.

It's the same with men.

(_They go out_)

SECOND STRANGER.

You going in?

RALPH ARDSLEY.

I've got to find a man.

(_The stranger goes out_)

(_Ardsley calls toward the room, forward left_)

What's the news from the mill, Charles?

BUTLER.

(_Appears at the door_)