Narcissuss long siege had not succeeded in bringing Goldmunds secret out into the open. For a long time he had apparently labored in vain to awaken him, to teach him the language in which the secret could be told.
Goldmunds description of his home and childhood gave no clear picture. There was a shadowlife, faceless father whom he veed, and then there was the legend of a mother who had vanished, or perished, long ago, who was nothing but a pallid name. Narcissus, the experienced reader of souls, had gradually e that Goldmund was one of those people part of whose lives have been lost; pressure of circumstances or some kind of magic power has obliterated a portion of their past. He realized that nothing would be gained by mere questioning and teag, that he had overestimated the power of logid spoken many useless words.
But the love that bound him to his friend and their habit of spending much time together had not been fruitless. In spite of the vast differences of their characters, each had learned much from the other. Beside the language of reason, a language of the soul had gradually e into beiween them; it was as if, brang off the main street, there are many small, almost secret lanes. Gradually the imaginative power of Goldmunds soul had tracked such paths into Narcissuss thoughts and expressions, making him uand—and sympathize with—many of Goldmunds perceptions and feelings, without need for words. New links from soul to soul developed in the warm glow of love; words came later. That is how, one holiday, in the library, there occurred a versatioween the friends that her had expected—a versation that touched at the core and purpose of their friendship and cast new, far-reag lights.
They had been talking about astrology, a forbidden sce that was not pursued in the cloister. Narcissus had said that astrology was an attempt te and order the many different types of human beings acc to their natures ainies. At this point Goldmund had objected: "Youre forever talking of differences—Ive finally reized a pet theory of yours. When you speak of the great differehat is supposed to exist between you and me, for insta seems to me that this difference is nothing but your straermination to establish differences."
Narcissus: "Yes. Youve hit the nail on the head. Thats it: to you, differences are quite unimportant; to me, they are what matters most. I am a scholar by nature; sce is my vocation. And sce is, to quote your words, nothing but the determination to establish differences. Its essence couldnt be defined more accurately. For us, the men of sothing is as important as the establishment of differences; sce is the art of differentiation. Disc in every man that which distinguishes him from others is to know him."
Goldmund: "If you like. One man wears wooden shoes and is a peasant; another wears a and is a king. Those are differences, I grant you. But children see them, too, without any sce."
Narcissus: "But when peasant and king are dressed alike, the child o loell one from the other."
Goldmund: "her sce."
Narcissus: "Perhaps it . Not that sce is more intelligent than the child, but it has more patie remembers more than just the most obvious characteristics."
Goldmund: "So does any intelligent child. He will reize the king by the look in his eyes, or by his bearing. To put it plainly: you learned men are arrogant, you always think everybody else stupid. One be extremely intelligent with