striven.

_Her_. If but that ascent might be, Lycinus! but it is far yet.

_Ly_. But you have never told me _how_ far, in terms of time.

_Her_. No; for I know not precisely myself. My guess is that it will
not be more than twenty years; by that time I shall surely be on the
summit.

_Ly_. Mercy upon us, you take long views!

_Her_. Ay; but, as the toil, so is the reward.

_Ly_. That may be; but about these twenty years--have you your master's
promise that you will live so long? is he prophet as well as philosopher?
or is it a soothsayer or Chaldean expert that you trust? such things are
known to them, I understand. You would never, of course, if there were any
uncertainty of your life's lasting to the Virtue-point, slave and toil
night and day like this; why, just as you were close to the top, your fate
might come upon you, lay hold of you by the heel, and lug you down with
your hopes unfulfilled.

_Her_. God forbid! these are words of ill omen, Lycinus; may life be
granted me, that I may grow wise, and have if it be but one day of
Happiness!

_Ly_. For all these toils will you be content with your one day?

_Her_. Content? yes, or with the briefest moment of it.