The Master and Margarita. word he spoke: he did not have to pretend anymore, he did not have to choose his words carefully

word he spoke: he did not have to pretend anymore, he did not have to choose his words carefully. " You have made too many complaints against me to Caesar, and now my time has come, Kaifal Now I shall relay word, not to the governor-general in Antioch, not to Rome, but straight to Capreae, to the Emperor himself, word about how you are shielding known rebels from death. And then it will not be water from Solomon's Pool that I shall give Yershalaim to drink, as I had wanted to do for your benefit! No, it will not be water! Remember how, because of you, I had to take the shields with the imperial insignia off the walls, to transfer troops, and remember how I had to come here myself to see what was going on! Remember my words: what you will see here, High Priest, will not be one cohort in Yershalaim, oh, no! The entire Lightning Legion will be at the city walls, so will the Arabian cavalry, and then you will hear bitter weeping and groaning! Then you will remember the Bar-rabban you saved and you will regret that you sent to death the philosopher who preached peace! "

The high priest's face had become covered with blotches, his eyes burned. Like the procurator, he smiled, baring his teeth, and replied, " Procurator, do you yourself believe what you just said? No, you do not! It was not peace that that rabble-rouser brought to Yershalaim, and you, Knight, know that very well. You wanted to release him so that he would stir the people up, do violence to their religion, and subject them to Roman swords! But I, High Priest of Judea, shall not, so long as I live, allow the faith to be profaned, and I shall protect the people! Do you hear, Pilate? " And here Kaifa raised his hand threateningly, " Take heed, Procurator! "

Kaifa fell silent, and again the procurator heard what sounded like the sea rolling up to the walls of the garden of Herod the Great. This noise rose from below up to the procurator's feet and into his face. And behind him, beyond the wings of the palace was heard the anxious blaring of trumpets, the heavy crunch of hundreds of feet, and the clanking of iron. The procurator now realized that the Roman infantry was already moving out, in accordance with his orders, heading toward the pre-execution parade that was so terrifying to outlaws and insurgents.

" Can you hear, Procurator? " quietly repeated the high priest. " Are you really telling me that all this, " —here the high priest raised both his hands, and the dark hood fell from his head—" was caused by that miserable outlaw Bar-rabban? "

The procurator wiped his cold, damp forehead with the back of his wrist and looked down at the ground. Then, squinting up at the sky, he saw that the scorching ball was almost directly overhead, and that Kaifa's shadow by the lion's tail had shrunk away to nothing. He said quietly and indifferently, " It's not long till noon. We got carried away by our conversation, but we must proceed."