Quiet--not a soul about--no light, no noise; I am in a state of the
most fearful excitement; I breathe hardly and audibly, and I cry with
gnashing teeth, each time that the morsel of meat, which might satisfy
me a little, comes up. As I find that, in spite of all my efforts, it
avails me naught, I cast the bone at the door. I am filled with the
most impotent hate; shriek, and menace with my fists towards Heaven;
yell God's name hoarsely, and bend my fingers like claws, with
ill-suppressed fury....
I tell you, you Heaven's Holy Baal, you don't exist; but that, if you
did, I would curse you so that your Heaven would quiver with the fire
of hell! I tell you, I have offered you my service, and you repulsed
me; and I turn my back on you for all eternity, because you did not
know your time of visitation! I tell you that I am about to die, and
yet I mock you! You Heaven God and Apis! with death staring me in the
face--I tell you, I would rather be a bondsman in hell than a freedman
in your mansions! I tell you, I am filled with a blissful contempt for
your divine paltriness; and I choose the abyss of destruction for a
perpetual resort, where the devils Judas and Pharaoh are cast down!
I tell you your Heaven is full of the kingdom of the earth's most
crass-headed idiots and poverty-stricken in spirit! I tell you, you
have filled your Heaven with the grossest and most cherished harlots
from here below, who have bent their knees piteously before you at
their hour of death! I tell you, you have used force against me, and
you know not, you omniscient nullity, that I never bend in opposition!
I tell you, all my life, every cell in my body, every power of my soul,
gasps to mock you--you Gracious Monster on High. I tell you, I would,
if I could, breathe it into every human soul, every flower, every leaf,
every dewdrop in the garden! I tell you, I would scoff you on the day
of doom, and curse the teeth out of my mouth for the sake of your
Deity's boundless miserableness! I tell you from this hour I renounce
all thy works and all thy pomps! I will execrate my thought if it dwell
on you again, and tear out my lips if they ever utter your name! I tell
you, if you exist, my last word in life or in death--I bid you
farewell, for all time and eternity--I bid you farewell with heart and
reins. I bid you the last irrevocable farewell, and I am silent, and
turn my back on you and go my way.... Quiet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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