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In truth a strange story! And you, timid as you say you are, you, who formerly prized the Emperor's favour so highly, now step forth before me and fling insults in my very face!

Now I fear you no longer; for now has Christ fully possessed my heart. In the Church's hour of need, her light and glory burst upon me. All the blood you shed,—all the violence and wrong you do—cry out to heaven, and, re-echoing mightily, ring in my deaf ears, and show me, in my night of blindness, the way I have to go.

Get you home, old man!

Not till you have sworn to renounce your devilish courses. What would you do? Would dust rise up against the spirit? Would the lord of earth cast down the Lord of heaven? See you not that the day of wrath is upon us by reason of your sins? The fountains are parched like eyes that have wept themselves dry. The clouds, which ought to pour the manna of fruitfulness upon us, sweep over our heads, and shed no moisture. This earth, which has been cursed since the morning of time, quakes and trembles under the Emperor's blood-guiltiness.

What favour do you expect of your God for such excess of zeal, foolish old man? Do you hope that, as of old, your Galilean master will work a miracle, and give you back your sight?