FRANCISCAN. The settlement of your other crimes will have to take place within yourself. But if you as much as touch a hair on the heads of the children, then you shall learn who is their protector, and you shall feel the iron rod.
OLD LADY. The idea—that this infernal monk should dare to say such things to me! If I am damned—then I want to be damned! Ha, ha!
FRANCISCAN. Well, you may be sure that there will be no blessing for your house and no peace for yourself until you have suffered every suffering that you have brought on others.—May I speak a word with you, Judge?
The Judge approaches.
OLD LADY. Yes, give him what he deserves, so that one may be as good as the other.
FRANCISCAN. [To the Judge] Where did you get the idea of building your tomb where the gallows used to stand?
JUDGE. I suppose I got it from the devil!
FRANCISCAN. Like the idea of casting off your children and robbing them of their inheritance? But you have also been an unrighteous judge—you have violated oaths and accepted bribes.
JUDGE. I?
FRANCISCAN. And now you want to erect a monument to yourself! You want to build yourself an imperishable house in heaven! But listen to me: this spot will never be consecrated, and you may consider it a blessing if you are permitted to rest in common ground among ordinary little sinners. There is a curse laid on this soil, because blood-guilt attaches to it and because it is ill-gotten.