THE NEWCOMER: It is no shame to boast to an Angel of what I might yet do in Love's service, were I but freed from this bondage. THE MISTAKEN INVALID: Surely the water is stirring strangely to-day! Surely I shall be whole! THE ANGEL: I must make haste. Already the sky is afire with the gathering host, for it is the hour of the new song among us. The Earth itself feels the preparation in the skies and attempts its hymns. Children born in this hour spend all their lives in a sharper longing for the perfection that awaits them. THE NEWCOMER: Oh, in such an hour was I born, and doubly fearful to me is the flaw in my heart. Must I drag my shame, Prince and singer, all my days more bowed than my neighbour? THE ANGEL [stands a moment in silence]: Without your wound where would your power be? It is your very remorse that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken on the wheels of living. In Love's service only the wounded soldiers can serve. Draw back. [He swiftly kneels and draws his finger through the water. The pool is presently astir with running ripples. They increase, and a divine wind strikes the gay surface. The waves are flung upon the steps. The MISTAKEN MAN casts himself into the Pool, and the whole company lurches, rolls, or hobbles in. The servants rush from the porch. Turmoil. Finally the no longer MISTAKEN INVALID emerges and leaps joyfully up the steps. The rest, coughing and sighing, follow him. THE ANGEL smiles for a moment and disappears.] THE HEALED MAN: Look, my hand is new as a child's. Glory be to God! I have begun again. [TO THE NEWCOMER]: May you be the next, my brother. But come with me first, an hour only, to my home. My son is lost in dark thoughts. I--I do not understand him, and only you have ever lifted his mood. Only an hour...my daughter, since her child died, sits in the shadow. She will not listen to us.