Woe is me if you should reveal your mad dreams. You are no son of mine if you cry such fancies aloud!
Jeremiah
Your son, Mother? Indeed and indeed I am your son, with a fate like unto yours! Learn that I too have been barren, and that the Lord hath quickened me with a word and a secret. I have renewed your vow, Mother, and have given myself to the Lord.
The Mother
Go, then, to God’s house. Give yourself to him who has called you, praise his holy name.
Jeremiah
Nay, Mother, not for me the service of the sacrificial priest. I myself must be the sacrifice. For God my veins run blood; for him my flesh is consumed; for him my soul burns. I will serve him as none ever served him before; his paths shall henceforward be mine. Behold the dawn upon the valley, and within me likewise is darkness dispelled by light! God’s heaven flames, and in me no less the heart is aflame. Chariot of Elijah, fiery chariot, carry my words that they may fall like thunder into the hearts of men. My lips scorch me, I must go, I must go.
The Mother
Whither would you go ere the day has well begun?