Act V, the final scene. Bare ground; at a great distance from the castle, and much later than Act I. Knights, servants, ruffians, soldiers, changers of money, women of all degree, scholars, and some very young; all driven here by reason of the new oppression. Offstage a silence. Darkness on the stage, except a fire of small wood, round which the people sit, waiting. The King, deposed, and having been so long ragged, eager, hungry, driven, and thoughtful that he appears like any of his country-men, stands up. The King speaks.

They say the world is dying. I'm told they say

There's nothing we can call our own but death.

Not lands, nor lovers, nor the days they loved.

Not even our own slow tremendous thoughts. Then

For God's sake let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories of the death of kings,

And good men royal in their grief, all murdered.

Tell treachery. Tell waste. Curse! And whisper

The small word that thunders always in the ear.

I'll hear you. Why, I'll hear any story now,

Now it's too late for anything but truth.

Tell the good listener who was once a king,

And keeps his terrible sorrows to himself,

Your fear of wind, and Wednesday your lucky day,

And your vision of green salvation for this world.

Examine your most particular strange grief.

Tell it. Tell it! I've heard men talk before.

What if you tell it? What if you uncover your head

For once, for once throw all respect away,

And cry to the last winds on a dying earth

Everything sad, wild, beautiful, angry, and good

You never told anyone living in your life?

I came the long way round to come here, lost

In the deep green darkness of my youth, and lost

Again in the daylight city of my middle age.

But had stared straight at sun at noon, and liked it,

And heard famous voices in my ears, and was proud.

I learned that our enemy silence is a friend.

I saw both faces of the dark god who loves us all,

And knew thereafter our kind are kinder than we know

And crueler than we fear. I learned to give

What none may take, none wish to keep, myself.

And came to this failing fire upon the ground.

Good friends, good hearts, with love this world can live!

I think that if all present here should swear,

Standing, each hand in a hand held, to give their

Love back to the world that gave them crazy pain,

Give it as swift and unasked-for, thrust as hard

Home to the nearest heart as pain is given,

This fire would burn till daylight comes, this world

That lives in its own wild endless wars not die.

I remember nobodies who have been kind to me,

Old midnight drudges I shall never thank.

I think of the princes who had rotten hearts.

But have we not all had love we never earned,

The low voice saying, All of me is yours.

Has not each of us been knifed once in the back

By the sudden god, who, under another hat,

Gave us the golden rose, the annual trophy.

All this is true for all of us. We know.

I think we all know. I think we have seen the god.

Let's tell the whole story now, in black and white,

The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

And for God's sake, as we sit here on the ground,

Let's talk of love-for, wary as we are,

We'll help each other's living more than hate it.

But they say the world is dying. I'm told they say

There is nothing we can call our own but death.

Not lands, nor lovers, nor the days they loved.

Not the child's imagined friend, nor trees of heaven

To the child's father's imaginative eye.

Not money. Not books. Not roses. Not even our grief.

I do not believe the world is dying, nor do you.

I think the world goes on in its crazy way,

Its cruel, beautiful, careless and secret way,

And so do you. I think the world is our enemy

Hunting us down, but our friend. And so do you.

The world lunges over in its own history and weather,

It exults to see a man strong enough to fight,

And it carries more gods than a man has ever named.

I think the god of our days, and words, and our love,

Of our longest childhood royal love of living,

The god of Saturday mornings, poems, and murders,

Is the same god, and the one who makes us well.

I accept this god in my life. And so do you.