Since then, at liberty, life has been more painful than death.

On my return to Spain, pressed by poverty and persecution, my life has been a hell.

I dare stop in no place where men congregate; they hunt me like dogs, forcing me to live out of the towns, driving me to the mountains, into the deserts, where no human beings live.

It appears I am still a man to be feared, more to be feared than those desperadoes who throw bombs, because I can speak, because I carry in me an irresistible strength which forces me to preach the Truth if I find myself in the presence of miserable and trodden-down wretches--but all this is coming to an end.

You may be easy, brother, I am a dead man; my mission is drawing to a close, but others will come after me, and again others.