But as he made this decision, his lips parted and he spoke. His voice was full of grievance. “Why do you draw my blood? Why are you angry? How long are you going to pursue me?” He stopped. Bent over, his mouth open, the hairs of his head standing on end and his eyes full of fear, he listened. ... At first there was nothing; the air was motionless, silent. But then, suddenly, someone above was speaking to him. He cocked his ear and heard—heard, and shook his head violently, continually, as though saying, No! No! No! Finally he too opened his mouth. His voice no longer trembled. “I can't! I'm illiterate, an idler, afraid of everything. I love good food, wine, laughter. I want to marry, to have children. ... Leave me alone!”“What do you say? I can't hear?”
Suddenly he had to put his hands over his ears to soften the savage voice above him. With his whole face squeezed together, holding his breath, he heard now, and answered: “Yes, yes, I'm afraid. ... You want me to stand up and speak, do you? What can I say, how can I say it? I can't, I tell you! I'm illiterate! ... What did you say? ... The kingdom of heaven? ... I don't care about the kingdom of heaven. I like the earth. I want to marry, I tell you; I want Magdalene, even if she's a prostitute. It's my fault she became one, my fault, and I shall save her. Her! Not the earth, not the kingdom of this world—it's Magdalene I want to save. That's enough for me! ... Speak lower, I can't understand you.