Do you not see your daughter, how pale she is?
What is that to you if she be pale or not?
Never have I seen her so pale.
You must not look at her.
THE VOICE OF JOKANAAN
In that day the sun shall become black like sackcloth of hair, and the moon shall become like blood, and the stars of the heaven shall fall upon the earth like unripe figs that fall from the fig-tree, and the kings of the earth shall be afraid.
Ah! Ah! I should like to see that day of which he speaks, when the moon shall become like blood, and when the stars shall fall upon the earth like unripe figs. This prophet talks like a drunken man . . . . but I cannot suffer the sound of his voice. I hate his voice. Command him to be silent.
I will not. I cannot understand what it is that he saith, but it may be an omen.