Baruch
The king. Let your words be like flame. Save Jerusalem.
Jeremiah
The king? [He looks round horror-stricken upon the deserted wall] Lost, lost the sacred hour. My hasty tongue has ruined all.
Baruch
Try once again and you will overcome him. Already he was yielding.
Too late, too late. Why did God choose a weakling? Why did he put words of gall into my mouth?
Baruch
Do not torment yourself, master. Your sufferings confuse your mind.