I reported to my partner in dialogue how dreadful it had already been to me when I was a boy to read this as the message of God. I told him how already at that time it horrified me to read or to remember how the heathen king went up to the prophet with the words on his lips, "Surely the bitterness of death is past," and was hewn to pieces by him. I said to my partner: "I have never been able to believe that this is a message of God. I do not believe it." With wrinkled forehead and contracted brows, the man sat opposite me and his glance flamed into my eyes. He remained silent, began to speak, became silent again. "So?" he broke forth at last, "so?" he repeated almost threateningly. "You do not believe it?" And I once again: "No." "What ... what..." he thrust the words before him one after the other — "what do you believe then?" "I believe," I replied without...