The Fisher King

When all is finished - the destruction, the rebuilding, the second destruction - and the thunder has spoken of the three things, the King stands fishing on the shore with the arid plain behind him. Has anything changed?

Hieronimo: Is this all?

Balthazar: Aye, this is all.

Hieronimo: Why then, I'll fit you: say no more. When I was young I gave my mind And applied myself to fruitless poetry Which though it profit the professor naught Yet is it passing pleasing to the world.