Why must all our
misdeeds come home to roost--both boyish escapades and really evil
action? It's fair enough to reap evil where one has sown it. But
I've never seen a good action get its reward. Never! It's a
disgrace to Him who records all sins, however black or venial. No
man could do it: men would forgive. The gods ... never!
LADY. Don't say that. Say rather _you_ forgive.
STRANGER. I'm not small-minded. But what have I forgive you?
LADY. More than I can say.
STRANGER. Say it. Perhaps then we'll be quits.
LADY. He and I used to read the curse of Deutertonomy over you ...
for you'd ruined his life.
STRANGER. What curse is that?
LADY. From the fifth book of Moses. The priests chant it in chorus
when the fasts begin.
STRANGER. I don't remember it. What does it matter--a curse more or
less?
LADY. In my family those whom we curse, are struck.
STRANGER. I don't believe it. But I do believe that evil emanates
from this house. May it recoil upon it! That is my prayer! Now,
according to custom, it would be my duty to shoot myself; but I
can't, so long as I have other duties. You see, I can't even die,
and so I've lost my last treasure--what, with reason, I call my
religion. I've heard that man can wrestle with God, and with
success; but not even job could fight against Satan. (Pause.) Let's
speak of you. ...
LADY. Not now. Later perhaps. Since I've got to know your terrible
book--I've only glanced at it, only read a few lines here and
there--I feel as if I'd eaten of the tree of knowledge.
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