Pr. Thou art Parvati, the wife of Siva. Thou hast conquered the giant Durga, the evil one, and now thyself art called the goddess Durga.
Thou art Mahishamardini, the slayer of Mahisha.
Thou art Kalaratri, Nightly Darkness, abyss of all mysteries.
Thou art Jagaddhatri, mother of the world.
Thou art Jagadgauri, renowned throughout the world.
Thou art Katyayina, refulgent with a thousand suns.
Thou art Singhavahini, seated on a lion thou wonest victory over Raktavija, leader of the giants' army.
Great Mother of Life, accept our offering, the blood of this lamb.
Crowd. Maha Kali, accept our offering!
Kali Ma, accept our offering!
Kali Durga, great Goddess, accept our offering!
The priest turns toward the lamb and raises his knife. Buddha steps to the altar and places his hand gently upon the priest's arm.
B. Hold!
Pr.Meddler!
B.Pause before thou sheddest blood.
Pr. How dar'st thou rudely interfere, strange monk,
With our most sacred sacrifice? This lamb
Is offered to the goddess. Thou disturbest
Our holy ritual.
He lifts his knife against Buddha, but Siha draws his sword and knocks the knife out of the priest's hand.
GS.Keep peace, bold priest!
Pr. The vengeance of the gods will be upon you.
B. If there be gods they must be potent, noble,
And great and holy; and if the gods are holy,
They do not need the offering of a victim,
They do not want the life of this poor trembling lamb.
Pr. The gods are kind; they take the lamb in place of this poor stricken man. We must do penance for his sins, for the sins of his wife, for the sins of his children.
Farmer. I crave forgiveness for the sins for which my dear good child has had to die.
Pr. His sins are great and nothing can wash them away but blood.
B. Herein thou errest, priest. Blood does not cleanse.
It washes not away the stain of sin;
The slaughter of a victim heaps but guilt
On guilt, and does not right a wrong. Rise,
Rise, my good friend. Take comfort!
The farmer rises.