CONFESSOR. On the contrary, you must show yourself as you are; and
defend your opinions to the last.
STRANGER. Will contradiction be permitted here?
CONFESSOR. Here? You're a child, who's lived in a childish world,
where you've played with thoughts and words. You've lived in the
erroneous belief that language, a material thing, can be a vehicle
for anything so subtle as thoughts and feelings. We've discovered
that error, and therefore speak as little as possible; for we are
aware of, and can divine, the innermost thoughts of our neighbour.
We've so developed our perceptive faculties by spiritual exercises
that we are linked in a single chain; and can detect a feeling of
pleasure and harmony, when there's complete accord. The Prior, who
has trained himself most rigorously, can feel if anyone's thoughts
have strayed into wrong paths. In some respects he's like--merely
like, I say--a telephone engineer's galvanometer, that shows when
and where a current has been interrupted. Therefore we can have no
secrets from one another, and so do not need the confessional.
Think of all this when you confront the searching eye of the Prior!
STRANGER. Is there any intention of examining me?
CONFESSOR. Oh no. There are merely a few questions to answer
without any deep meaning, before the practical examinations. Quiet!
Here they are.
(He goes to one side. The PRIOR enters from the back. He is dressed
entirely in white and he has pulled up his hood.
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