He became enraged. "Who am I? What am I to you? What am I to God?"
I was ashamed to quarrel with him on account of a bagatelle, so I knelt. He threatened me with his finger and said:
"I will teach you to respect the clergy!"
I lost my desire to talk with him, but still, before the desire had entirety gone, I began to speak, and I forgot his presence. For the first time in my life I expressed my thoughts in words, and I was astonished at myself. Suddenly I heard the old man cry out:
"Keep still, wretched one!"
I felt as if I had suddenly come up against a wall while running. He stood over me, shaking his hands threateningly at me, and muttered:
"Do you know what you are saying, you crazy fool? Do you appreciate your blasphemies, wretched one? You lie, heretic! You did not come to do penance. You came as a messenger from the devil to tempt me!"
I saw that it was not wrath, but fear that played in his face. He trembled, and his beard and his hands, which were held out to me, were shaking. I, too, was frightened.
"What is your reverence saying?" I asked. "I believe in God."
"You lie, you mad dog!"