he'd shed tears of blood over his vices and misery. His face was
brown and swollen like a piece of liver on a butcher's table, and
he hid himself from men's eyes out of shame--up to the end he seems
to have been ashamed of the broken mirror of his soul, for he
covered his face with brushwood. I saw him fighting his vices; I
saw him praying to God on his knees for deliverance, after he'd
been dismissed from his post as a teacher. ... But ... Well, now
he's been delivered. And look, now the evil's been taken from him,
the good and beautiful that was in him has again become apparent;
that's what he looked like when he was nineteen! (Pause.) This is
sin--imposed as a punishment. Why? That we don't know. 'He who
hateth the righteous, shall himself be guilty!' So it is written,
as an indication. I knew him when he was young! And now I remember ...
he was always very angry with those who never drank. He criticised
and condemned, and always set his cult of the grape on the altar of
earthly joys! Now he's been set free. Free from sin, from shame,
from ugliness. Yes, in death he looks beautiful. Death is the
deliverer! (To the STRANGER.) Do you hear that, Deliverer, you who
couldn't even free a drunkard from his evil passions!

TEMPTER. Crime as punishment? That's not so bad. Most penetrating!

CONFESSOR. So I think. You'll have new matter for argument.

TEMPTER. Now I'll leave you gentlemen for a while. But soon we'll
meet again. (He goes out.)

CONFESSOR. I saw you just now with a woman! So there are still
temptations?