You were afraid to die; the life that was in you, that composes you, that is greater than you, did not want to die.

You have talked of the instinct of immortality.

I talk of the instinct of life, which is to live, and which, when death looms near and large, masters the instinct, so called, of immortality.

It mastered it in you (you cannot deny it), because a crazy Cockney cook sharpened a knife.
"You are afraid of him now.

You are afraid of me.