Clive sat in the theatre of Dionysus. The stage was empty, as it had been for many centuries, the auditorium empty; the sun had set though the Acropolis behind still radiated heat. He saw barren plains running down to the sea, Salamis, Aegina, mountains, all blended in a violet evening. Here dwelt his gods—Pallas Athene in the first place: he might if he chose imagine her shrine untouched, and her statue catching the last of the glow. She understood all men, though motherless and a virgin. He had been coming to thank her for years because she had lifted him out of the mire.

But he saw only dying light and a dead land. He uttered no prayer, believed in no deity, and knew that the past was devoid of meaning like the present, and a refuge for cowards.

Well, he had written to Maurice at last. His letter was journeying down to the sea. Where one sterility touched another, it would embark and voyage past Sunium and Cythera, would land and embark, would land again. Maurice would get it as he was starting for his work. "Against my will I have become normal. I cannot help it." The words had been written.

He descended the theatre wearily. Who could help anything? Not only in sex, but in all things men have moved blindly, have evolved out of slime to dissolve into it when this accident of consequences is over, sighed the actors in this very place two thousand years before. Even that remark, though further from vanity than most, was vain.

克萊夫坐在狄奧尼索斯劇場裡。多少個世紀以來，舞台是空蕩蕩的，觀眾席也空無一人。太陽已經落下，背後的衛城卻還發散著熱氣。他眺望著向海邊傾斜的光禿禿的平原，薩拉米斯、埃伊納、群山，統統與淡紫色黃昏融為一體。他的神祗們就住在這裡——首先是雅典娜·波利亞斯。倘若願意的話，他可以想象雅典娜的神廟完好如初，她的雕像在落日餘暉下熠熠發光。儘管沒有母親，又是個處女，她對所有的男人了如指掌。多年來，克萊夫不斷地渴望到此向她表示謝忱，因為她將他從泥潭中拖了出來。

然而他隻看見了漸漸消失的光和死滅了的大地。他不曾禱告，對任何神祗都沒有信仰。他知道過去就跟現在一樣毫無意義，並為懦夫提供了避難所。

他終於給莫瑞斯寫了信。他這封信將要渡海，經過陸地與海洋接觸之處，被裝上了船，繞過蘇鈕姆岬與基西拉，登陸後又被裝上船，再度登陸。莫瑞斯上班的時候就會收到這封信。“我不由自主地變得正常了。我一點兒辦法也沒有。”他終於把這話寫出來了。

他有氣無力地走下劇場。不論是誰，又有什麼辦法呢？不僅在性方麵，毋寧說是在各方麵，人們都是盲目地踱過來的。他們脫離泥淖逐漸演變成人，及至偶然的連鎖結束，就又消融到泥淖中去。兩千年前，剛好就在此處，演員們感歎道：“最好是根本就沒出生。”就連這句言詞都是空洞的，儘管比起大多數台詞來，它與虛榮相距甚遠。