Page:Ivan Cankar - Hlapci.pdf/48

 Pastor. They named me a dictator and a brute who treads on all on all who block their way; who does not hear the cry of the disregarded. Many times I cannot toss gifts to the indigent. There are many who eat my bread, thus I have little of it left for myself. I've told you and I now tell you once more: I do not inspect those who eat my bread. I do not care if they crossed themselves before they took a bite. I do not ask them of their sins, I do not push them into the Church. One is an order nonetheless: when asked, who their lord is, point to me!

Jerman. Hence, it is obvious: serve and you will be well-fed and well-taught.

Pastor. Countless lords are not as understanding as I am. Somewhere in the hills – I think on Goličava – is a priest who waits for the blessing to take a look from the monstrance. . . Did the teacher kneel down? To him, the hatches of the tabernacle are a mirror, used to monitor whether the teacher crosses themselves while doing the sacrifice.

Jerman. It is an honor to host you – yet it is unclear why you cite those stories.

Pastor. You are unlike the ones who fell on their knees, as the floor shook. You are a man; you are fair. If I am to shake your hand as a friend, I will do so warmly – warmer than the hands of those who offer the shake themselves. Thus I've made my case clear: Not much is needed. . . For you. . . To. . . Overcome this trench in between us.

Jerman. Not much is needed but to betray what little reason I possess. . . What little pride I carry.