Righteousness, his head held high, has strewn his excrement behind him on the ground. He shows no remorse!; day falls upon day, as good men fall upon spears in the rush of battle, and new thoughts come to his mind from what he sees. If a woman scolds her child, a shrew scolds the sun; if he hears a man crying, he shuts the ears of his own children; if his daughter chips a shard from a rock, it is her idle and lonely future beside him.
But Righteousness, too, will bear his own stench on his deathbed – woe to you Righteousness! Your God will be your nurse, and she will hold a mirror above the bedpan that will be for your vomiting.
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