CHRISTINE. Benjamin is late. Do you think he will pass his examinations?
ELIS. I certainly do—in Latin particularly.
CHRISTINE. Benjamin is a good boy!
ELIS. Yes, but he's somewhat of a grumbler. You know of course why he is living here with us?
CHRISTINE. IS it because—
ELIS. Because—my father was the boy's guardian and spent his fortune for him, as he did—for so many others. Can you fancy, Christine, what agony it is for me as their instructor to see those fatherless boys, who have been robbed of their inheritance, suffering the humiliations of free scholars? I have to think constantly of their misery to be able to forgive them their cruel glances.
CHRISTINE. I believe that your father is truly better off than you.
ELIS. Truly!
CHRISTINE. But Elis, we should think of summer, and not of the past.
ELIS. Yes, of summer! Do you know, I was awakened last night by some students singing that old song, "Yes, I am coming, glad winds, take this greeting to the country, to the birds—Say that I love them, tell birch and linden, lake and mountain, that I am coming back to them—to behold them again as in my childhood hours—" [He rises—moved.] Shall I ever go back to them, shall I ever go out from this dreadful city, from Ebal, accursed mountain, and behold Gerizim again? [Seats himself near the door.]