The King--Whence art thou, sir?

Gilfaron—My Lord, I know not well. Indeed, I am a townsman of the world. For once my mother told me that she saw The Angel of the Cross Roads lead me out, And point to every corner of the sky, And say, "Thy feet shall follow in the trail Of every tribe; and thou shalt pitch thy tent Wherever thou shalt see a human face Which hath thereon the alphabet of life; Yea, thou shalt spell it out e'en as a child: And therein wisdom find."

The King—Art thou wise?

Gilfaron—Only according to the Signs.

The King—What signs?

Gilfaron—The first—the language of the Garden, sire, When man spoke with the naked searching thought, Unlacquered of the world.

The King—Speak so forthwith; come, show us to be wise.

Gilfaron—The Angel of the Cross Roads to me said: "And wisdom comes by looking eye to eye, Each seeing his own soul as in a glass; For ye shall find the Lodges of the Wise, The farthest Camp of the Delightful Fires, By marching two by two, not one by one."