say men are created in His
image, in His likeness. Why, you skunks, you have no image. If you had
one, the tiniest excuse for one, you would crawl away on all fours and
hide somewhere from sheer shame. You damned skunks! Laugh at them, cry
before them, shout, at them. It doesn't make any difference. They
go on licking their chops. King Herod--Damned skunks! And when King
Herod--not I, but the real one with a golden crown--killed your
children, where were you--hey?

FAT MONK

We weren't even in the world then, man.

KING HEROD

Then there were others like you. He killed. You accepted it. That's
all. I have asked many the question: "What would you have done?"
"Nothing," they always reply. "If he killed, what could be done about
it?" Fine creatures! Haven't the manliness to stand up even for their
children. They are worse than dogs, damn them!

FAT MONK

And what would you have done?

KING HEROD

I? I should have wrung his neck from off his royal gold crown--the
confounded brute!

GRAY MONK

It says in the scripture: "Render unto Caesar the things that are
Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's."

FAT MONK

That is to say, don't interfere with other people's business. Do you
understand?

KING HEROD _(to Savva in despair)_

Just listen, listen to what they are saying.

SAVVA

I hear what they are saying.

KING HEROD

Just you wait, my precious! You'll get what's coming to you, and
mighty quick. The devil will come and hurl you into the fiery pit. To
hell, to gehenna, with you! How your fat will melt and run! Do you get
the smell, monk?

FAT MONK

That's from the refectory.

KING HEROD

You are on the run, fast as your feet can carry you! Ah! but where to?
Everywhere is hell, everywhere is fire. You refused to hearken unto
me, my pet; now you shall hearken unto the fire. Won't I be glad,
won't I rejoice! I'll take off my chains so that I can catch them and
present them to the devil--first one, then the other. Here, take him.
And the howl they'll set up, and the weeping and lamentation. "I am
not guilty." Not guilty? Who, then, is--who? To gehenna with you!
Burn, you damned hypocrites, until the second Advent. And then we'll
build a new fire, then we'll build a new fire.

GRAY MONK

Isn't it time for us to go, Father Kirill?

FAT MONK

Yes, we had better be moving along. It's getting dark, and it's time
to retire.

KING HEROD

Aha! You don't like to hear the truth. It isn'