JUDGE. Life's eve has at last brought the sunshine which its morning promised us. Early rains and late rains have blessed meadow and field. And soon the songs of the vintagers will be heard all over the country.
OLD LADY. Don't talk like that; somebody might hear you.
JUDGE. Who could be listening here, and what harm could it do to thank God for all good gifts?
OLD LADY. It's better not to mention one's good fortune lest misfortune overhear it.
JUDGE. What of it? Was I not born with a caul?
OLD LADY. Take care, take care! There are many who envy us, and evil eyes are watching us.
JUDGE. Well, let them! That's the way it has always been. And yet I have prospered.
OLD LADY. So far, yes. But I don't trust our neighbour. He has been going around the village saying that we have cheated him out of his property—and much more of the same kind which I don't care to repeat. Of course, it doesn't matter when one has a clean conscience and can point to a spotless life. Slander cannot hurt me. I go to confession and mass, and I am prepared to close my eyes whenever my hour may strike in order to open them again when I shall stand face to face with my Judge. And I know also what I am going to answer then.
JUDGE. What are you going to answer?
OLD LADY. Like this: I was not without fault, O Lord, but even if I was but a poor, sinful human creature, I was nevertheless a little better than my neighbour.