Let me conclude, a man! Give me back one hour of my young energy, that I may use and finish what I know.
"And God is good: I started sure of that; and he may still renew my heart.
True, I am worn; But who clothes summer, who is life itself?
God, that created all things, can renew!" At this moment the voice of Aprile is heard singing the song of the poets, who, having great gifts, refused to use them, or abused them, or were too weak; and who therefore live apart from God, mourning for ever; who gaze on life, but live no more.

He breaks in on Paracelsus, and, in a long passage of overlapping thoughts, Aprile--who would love infinitely and be loved, aspiring to realise every form of love, as Paracelsus has aspired to realise the whole of knowledge--makes Paracelsus feel that love is what he wants.

And then, when Paracelsus realises this, Aprile in turn realises that he wants knowledge.

Each recognises that he is the complement of the other, that knowledge is worthless without love, and love incapable of realising its aspirations without knowledge--as if love did not contain the sum of knowledge necessary for fine being.

Both have failed; and it seems, at first, that they failed because they did not combine their aims.