Beneath or somewhere

The man says he has no intoxicant, the fools say. Is it foolish to pretend we are not drunk off of the wine of the seas, or the Gods, or the skies? As if we did not take our sword and thrust it through the blades, piercing the hearts of demons of which we knew not?

I am afraid of ye, yea, you might say, but I ask you, what intoxicant befells a man as to be stronger, more perfume smelling, more haze and euphoria so blissful, some bitter brew so cautious in terms, some fragrant blessing befell thee, that you would leave behind everything?

I ask you.