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- Джек Лондон
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"
Oh
!
"
she
cried
.
"
You
will
not
understand
.
You
are
only
a
great
giant
thing
of
flesh
.
"
"
Is
it
not
said
that
this
event
was
prophesied
of
old
time
?
"
I
queried
,
for
I
had
been
learning
from
the
Jews
what
I
deemed
their
subtleties
of
thinking
.
"
Yes
,
yes
,
"
she
agreed
,
"
the
Messianic
prophecies
.
This
is
the
Messiah
.
"
"
Then
who
am
I
,
"
I
asked
,
"
to
make
liars
of
the
prophets
?
to
make
of
the
Messiah
a
false
Messiah
?
Is
the
prophecy
of
your
people
so
feeble
a
thing
that
I
,
a
stupid
stranger
,
a
yellow
northling
in
the
Roman
harness
,
can
give
the
lie
to
prophecy
and
compel
to
be
unfulfilled
--
the
very
thing
willed
by
the
gods
and
foretold
by
the
wise
men
?
"
"
You
do
not
understand
,
"
she
repeated
.
"
I
understand
too
well
,
"
I
replied
.
"
Am
I
greater
than
the
gods
that
I
may
thwart
the
will
of
the
gods
?
Then
are
gods
vain
things
and
the
playthings
of
men
.
I
am
a
man
.
I
,
too
,
bow
to
the
gods
,
to
all
gods
,
for
I
do
believe
in
all
gods
,
else
how
came
all
gods
to
be
?
"
She
flung
herself
so
that
my
hungry
arms
were
empty
of
her
,
and
we
stood
apart
and
listened
to
the
uproar
of
the
street
as
Jesus
and
the
soldiers
emerged
and
started
on
their
way
.
And
my
heart
was
sore
in
that
so
great
a
woman
could
be
so
foolish
.
She
would
save
God
.
She
would
make
herself
greater
than
God
.
"
You
do
not
love
me
,
"
she
said
slowly
,
and
slowly
grew
in
her
eyes
a
promise
of
herself
too
deep
and
wide
for
any
words
.
"
I
love
you
beyond
your
understanding
,
it
seems
,
"
was
my
reply
.
"
I
am
proud
to
love
you
,
for
I
know
I
am
worthy
to
love
you
and
am
worth
all
love
you
may
give
me
.
