The Christ looks on you.
He will forgive you.
[A pause.
Sanko (recovering). Priest!
The Priest. Forgive you.
[Holds crucifix toward him.
Sanko. By the eight million
Gods, he mocks me!
[Dashes it to floor.
And shall perish
Or go from this village!
The Priest. Aye ... but only
When goes this maiden
Whom you would hold
Still to her idols.
She must follow
The Cross of Heaven.
Sanko. She shall follow
O priest, but me.
The Priest. Murderer, pause!...
There is a Hell
Where the lost burn
Even as say your sutras.
[Sanko lifts his sword.
Pause! and strike not!
The smitten Christ
No longer holds
My hands from strife.
[Towers over him.