Go ahead!" And above the general tumult of voices rang out Foma's loud, accusing voice: "It was not life that you have built--you have made a cesspool! You have bred filth and putrefaction by your deeds! Have you a conscience?
Do you remember God?
Money--that's your God! And your conscience you have driven away.

Whither have you driven it away?
Blood-suckers! You live on the strength of others.

You work with other people's hands! You shall pay for all this! When you perish, you will be called to account for everything! For everything, even to a teardrop.

How many people have wept blood at those great deeds of yours?
And according to your deserts, even hell is too good a place for you, rascals.

Not in fire, but in boiling mud you shall be scorched.