human
Mr. Ball, he said in a voice of weariness,
gpt
Yea, sir--but it be'n't yet eight bells, and you'm not eat a bite since yesterday noontime.
human
I said go, and will I be explaining? I wish to speak with Cory alone.
gpt
Yea, sir.
human
Even he would desert me, had he anywhere to go. He was not so fat and sullen when he sailed with John Quelch--and escaped Quelch when I did--and listened when I told him of the western sea, and seemed, like you, to be understanding it. I suppose time's gone over all of us, and I alone faithful to the vision. Did I not say they were all phantoms, all but you and me?
gpt
You wished to speak with me?
human
Cold, cold. It's the cold good morning I get from you.
gpt
Did Judah Marsh have visions, Mr. Shawn?
human
Oh, Ben, Ben! Marsh is a tool to be used, a thing with a cutting edge in the shape of a man. And Manuel is a lump of muscle, a sort of poor engine for pulling ropes, in the shape of a man, and Dummy another, with hardly even the shape. They're all phantoms, all but you and me.
gpt
At this moment, your thing with hardly the shape of a man is grieving like a mother over his pet that's like to die in a day or so.
human
So? Well, what should that be to you?
gpt
Much, I find, Mr. Shawn. And I suppose no one ever found it comfortable to cease being a boy.
human
Hm? Your mind's running in strange courses. Maybe it's true you've come to be something like a man. Wisha! said Shawn, and tried to smile--
gpt
His hand came out in an abortive gesture of friendship, and fell to his side.
human
Dummy, Ben, is what I made him. I found him on your foul Boston water front, sweeping and carrying garbage in a warehouse. I sat down by him with a length of rope and showed him sailor's knots, and he grinned and took the rope and showed me he knew them too. Then, seeing he knows well what you say for all he can't speak, I told him of the new countries in the western sea, and the vision did strike fire in him--Mother of God, I saw it! Plainer, more honest than I've seen it in many a man who hath all his wits and the power of speech. And I said to him: 'Will you sail with me then?' And he knelt in the filth of the warehouse and patted my boots. Poor lump, have I not given him vision and purpose? Could I heal his dirty monkey for him I would do it, now that's no lie. But I am not God, Ben--only God's instrument. Now take this glass. It's there, Ben, but when I try to bring the glass on it I lose it--it must be my eyes or this damned blaze of light--yet without the glass I see it. Why, even Ball saw it, but would have it a floating tree. A floating tree!