________________
(91)
( silence ) A hundred thousand ! Once, twice
WEAVER (clinging to the cloth as though to the feet of the Lord)
Are you daft, Brother Som! Do you truly want to exchange this cloth for a hundred thousand yellow coins ? Is your soul jaundiced ? No! no! no ! you shall not sell it !
WIFE OF WEAVER ( mockingly )
He shall sell it! Is this cloth going to feed us by its mere presence in this house; this silly piece of cloth that seems to have come to us to dislocate our home! Sell it ! sell it!
VOICE (from somewhere ) You want to sell that which had kissed the bare shoulder of the Lord ! you want to sell a precious, the most precious of all gifts given by Him?
(A miracle takes place now: the stage grows dark and vaguely we see all the characters transfixed and immobile - they are, as it were, transformed for a while into statues staring at the cloth which has become a blood-red glow )
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