fuse my life, and deliberately choose death. For I would rather not exist at all than have to go on living in such an overwhelming atmosphere of grace and virtue!
(Fortunatus falls back.)
ST. JOHN. O what amazing and devilish jealousy! What spite on the part of the old Serpent, who long ago profered the cup of death to our forefathers and even to this day groans over the triumph of the righteous! This miserable Fortunatus, chock-full of the gall of Satan's venom, is like a rotten tree that brings forth bitter fruit. Therefore let him be cut off from the brotherhood of the righteous, and cast out from the society of those that fear God! Let him be consigned to the flames of everlasting punishment, there to be tormented without respite or refreshment!
AND. Look, look, the wounds made by the snake are all swelling up! He is collapsing again! Why, he will be dead before the word is out of my mouth!
ST. JOHN. Let him die, and dwell in hell. He deserves it for refusing his life simply through envy of another's good
