f a misunderstanding; but he didn't speak when he should
have, and I took his silence as a request not to speak either-and to
suffer. Why did I? Well, in my youth I was once in great need. I was
received as a guest in a house on an island far out to sea by a man who,
in spite of unusual gifts, had been passed over for promotion--owing to
his senseless pride. This man, by solitary brooding on his lot, had come
to hold quite extraordinary views about himself. I noticed it, but I
said nothing. One day this man's wife told me that he was sometimes
mentally unbalanced; and then thought he was Julius Caesar. For many
years I kept this secret conscientiously, for I'm not ungrateful by
nature. But life's tricky. It happened a few years later that this
Caesar laid rough hands on my most intimate fate. In anger at this I
betrayed the secret of his Caesar mania and made my erstwhile benefactor
such a laughing stock, that his existence became unbearable to him. And
now listen how Nemesis overtakes one! A year later I wrote a book-I am,
you must know, an author who's not made his name.... And in this book I
described incidents of family life: how I played with my daughter--she
was called Julia, as Caesar's daughter was--and with my wife, whom we
called Caesar's wife because no one spoke evil of her.... Well, this
recreation, in which my mother-in-law joined too, cost me dear. When I
was looking through the proofs of my book, I saw the danger and said to
myself: you'll trip yourself up. I wanted to cut it out but, if you'll
believe it, the pen refused, and an inner voice said to me: let it
stand! It did stand! And I fell.

STRANGER. Why didn't you publish the letter from your friend that would
have explained everything?

PILGRIM. When the disaster had happened I felt at once that it was the
finger of God, and that I must suffer for my ingratitude.

STRANGER. And you did suffer?

PILGRIM. Not at all! I smiled to myself and wouldn't let myself be put
out. And because I accepted my punishment with calmness and humility God
lightened my burden; and I didn't feel myself ridiculous.

TEMPTER. That's a strange story; but such things happen. Shall we move
on now? We'll go for an excursion, now we've weathered the storms. Pull
yourself up by the roots, and then we'll climb the mountain.

STRANGER. The Confessor told me to wait for him.

TEMPTER. He'll find you, anyhow! And up here in the village the court's
sitting to-day. A particular