Now all Time belongs to him, and he walks without hurry; now all the World belongs to him, and he steps firmly, like a ruler, like a king, like one who is infinitely and joyfully alone in the world.

He observes the mother of Jesus, and says to her sternly: "Thou weepest, mother?
Weep, weep, and long will all the mothers upon earth weep with thee: until I come with Jesus and destroy death." What does he mean?
Is he mad, or is he mocking--this Traitor?
He is serious, and his face is stern, and his eyes no longer dart about in mad haste.

Lo! he stands still, and with cold attention views a new, diminished earth.
It has become small, and he feels the whole of it under his feet.

He looks at the little mountains, quietly reddening under the last rays of the sun, and he feels the mountains under his feet.
He looks at the sky opening wide its azure mouth; he looks at the small round disc of the sun, which vainly strives to singe and dazzle, and he feels the sky and the sun under his feet.

Infinitely and joyfully alone, he proudly feels the impotence of all forces which operate in the world, and has cast them all into the abyss.
He walks farther on, with quiet, masterful steps.