This tragedy both for the purity of its Latin and for the worth of its most sacred story has been brought through its own merit into the theatres, the schools and the libraries.
The tragedies of the ancients used to celebrate the disastrous deeds of their leading heroes in very obscure words, often mingling with the historical truth (which is the vanity of heathen antiquity) either false fictions or the fables of empty superstition. But this play we show you, good reader, in this our typographical theatre as a tragedy, brings into the theatre none of these mortal heroes but that everlasting King of all Kings, prince of princes, lord of lords, the son of the everlasting God, the Messiah, Christ, and brings him into the theatre so truly, simply, without any deceit and without anything that is unbecoming to evangelical history, that you will miss nothing here (except perhaps the curious superstitions of the past).
So Quintianus Stoa previously wrote a tragedy on the same story but in no way came as near the target of faith as this writer. The title is Christus Xilonicus I suppose, because it best suits the story of the play. For the story has been taken from the holy apostles and is about Christ who, in his fight for the eternal salvation of the human race, through the hatred of the priests, scribes and pharisees, through the greed of the traitor Judas, through the imprudent decision of the Roman Governor, according to the oracles of the prophets of old, was crucified on the wood of a cross, died and was buried.
So the author has added the title "Xilonicus" because Christ en xulo, that is, on the wooden cross, gained the nike, that is, the victory: for through the death which he suffered on the cross, he triumphed over death, according to that prophecy: "O death, I shall be your death; I shall be your sting, O Hell," and that prophecy: "Death has been swallowed up in victory," and that saying of Christ about himself: "When I shall be exalted from the earth, I shall attract all things to me."
Do not be disturbed in any way, best reader, that this tragedy has only four acts, though both the tragedies and the comedies of the ancients are seen to consist of five acts. Perhaps the author did not have the luck to finish it or was unwilling that an account of Christian liberty should be bound by those troublesome rules of the heathens. Goodbye.
[The first act is a very long sermon by Christ. The action starts at Act II.]
CHRIST. Now the night is rushing on, rolling the heaven in darkness. Now the tables have been removed and hunger has been driven out by the feast, and the hymn has been sung to the Father. Rise quickly and let us go into the garden we know so well. In a garden Adam first dared to sin; in a garden it will be fitting to atone for that sin and to appease the wrath of my Father. But mean while, that we may lighten our journey with talk, there are some things I want to warn you about. Now friends (I should by right call you "friends." But nevertheless you who are my friends by my gift, whom I have taken up and formerly thought worthy of being trusted with the faith of heavenly matters) now, I say, friends, recall to memory and set deep in your hearts that message in which I have already foretold everything quite fully to you during our long talks (now I shall only touch on the main points of the case), so that when that shall happen, you may first be willing to hear what has been told before and may then bear it with more equanimity.
The final, unavoidable day has come for me, and the time is pressing on when I shall atone for sin that is not mine and shall repair the ruins of the race. The Lord of the universe is coming who before, with no one indeed opposing him, easily brought the world under his command: in me he moves, in this place he has set up his standards. But he will not be able to do anything, though he will seem to have the power. Nay, by the force of violence he will be cast out of doors; he will see deities overthrown and feel the strength of others. His treasure and his house will be plundered by a kind of victory unheard of till this day: certainly the conquered will reap the spoils and the victor will be suppliant to the conquered and will admit defeat. We are fighting before the standards; we are the first to brave these battles, and we are building a road to heaven. We are laying low all things; by force we are breaking open the approaches; and by our blood we are producing for you a kingdom. The earth no longer holds me; I am now demanded by Heaven. I must leave my life while it is still growing and about to be of some small use. A seed, if it is not first moistened in wet soil, and (as if dead) is not buried in much earth, will become infertile and have no offspring; but if it be entrusted to a properly cultivated part of the earth, it will grow wondrously and will bring forth a shoot which may answer the prayer of even the greediest farmer. In the same way it is right for me to die and be buried in the tomb, and to go and see and conquer kingdoms not to be crossed by the living, with the surest profit for all mortals, profit by which I am carried forward with eyes open and willingly. Now I shall be brought to trial on behalf of all mankind. And just as in the vast desert the serpent was lifted up by Moses in his kindness, so I shall be exalted.
But as for you, stand fearlessly and do not forget me in time of danger. Look to the end, for on the third day after that, before the rays of the sun shall have brought light to the world, you will see me returning and restored to life. But a fate like mine awaits you. No servant is superior to his master. Think not that men will be fairer to you than to me. You will have to endure all injustices and all insults in my name. Fathers, mothers and sons will persecute you for this cause. You will be driven out, beaten and thrown into prison. Cease to be stirred by danger or fear. Only fear him, who by his nod makes Heaven tremble and who can sink forever body and soul into bitter death. Not those whose swords destroy the body alone must cause you fear. On the contrary, advance against them quite boldly, honoured for your virtues and by suffering conquer. The finest rewards (so that the Father may add nothing to them) will be won by your own character and by a mind conscious of right. Some rewards for your labours there shall be hereafter--never fear. You shall be on the topmost height, leaving far behind the winds and the clouds, nearer to the house of my Father (whence you may wonder at the earth far below, underneath it the lowest depths of Hell, all this radiance of the starry Heaven under your feet, the daylight at the same time setting and rising, and the change of time); rejoicing in your work, you shall sit in the twelfth seat and give laws to the twelve tribes which take their descent from Israel; you shall learn to help the prayers of men. Scorned on earth, you shall indeed shine in Heaven. Your sadness shall be turned to joy. Your course must be held through the varied dangers; the Father has not wished the road to the stars to be easy; he has placed the steep parts on a peak difficult to climb, and has ordered that the hearts of men should be sharpened by effort: he only watches for opportunities of measuring the services of those who truly need nothing. How vile the body ought to be to those who seek such things! How true it is that there is nothing here so painful that (if you balance fate against fate) it ought not to seem light and it ought to be endured finally for the sake of gaining that blessed state which cannot be estimated by the minds of mortals! If this were to be seen by our eyes, it would be sought after with wonderful desire more than anything else.
Begin the battle with the old serpent, who is attacking you alertly everywhere. Against him when he in anger lifts and swells his hissing neck, take sticks and rocks; as he sways strike him down with your blows: he fears the serious who put him to flight; he puts to flight those who fear him and he attacks them. Look into the midst; I lead you out as sheep among wolves whom long starvation drives blindly on. Be wary as serpents, simple as doves; be kind in heart; let all pride be far from you. Who now would say that those are not more likely to be blessed who are humble in spirit, have no ambition, put the curb to their desires, and think that they are below all other mortals? They do not grasp for the heights, al though this is the way to grasp at the heights, the way by which they cross over to the lofty summit of heaven. Shall we not predict that they are rightly blessed who never rage with too bitter hearts and who are never hurled down from their position of constancy? Another's unfairness cannot take from them the humility they have once put on. In these dark realms they recognize their own misery, judge themselves, pray for remission of future punishments by tears, and redeem themselves by weeping. They do not fabricate false accusations and do not allow them to be instigated, but see to it that all things are directed rightly and fairly; they do not seek for food and drink too greedily. The good will experience a good and easy God, as will those who have cleansed their hearts of all sins or who have intervened as arbiters of discord.
O how blessed must they be judged who shall bear persecutors for my sake and for the sake of right, and who shall bear patiently at the same time lies and lashes. Now all things shall correspond worthily with their deeds, and rewards one day shall be fixed and shall overcome penalties. Heaven claims the honours from this battle. But it pleases me now to return to the point from which we digressed. Whither destiny leads you and brings you back, follow. Persevere and do not yield to the many evils which attack you. The realm of the Father is being prepared by strength, and men do not enter it unless they are spirited; nor do those encumbered with baggage carry their steps there or those who have broad bellies, but simple men, unclad and with their bodies wasted away by long fasting.
Further, do not load yourselves with provisions for tomorrow nor with fire nor with two sets of clothes. By a narrow path you will reach the house of salvation. The doors to destruction gape open wide. Lay aside fear. I shall be present in every place. I shall not leave you in need of things; banish this worry. My task shall be that neither hunger nor cold destroy you. You are of more value to the Father than the birds of Heaven, and yet he generously nurtures them, and how white are the lilies of the field which he dresses suitably. Cast aside the burdens of cares; thus more quickly you will come to the place where sacred wisdom leads. Now for the first time Heaven's solicitude for you has come upon you, so that hereafter every battle shall be fought in the hope of such a glorious reward. All things shall follow this prize of victory. For you it will be lawful to be most relaxed in your way of life. How poor is he who is always seeking what he lacks. How rich is he who sees nothing he desires. More blessed still is the man to whom what is enough is too much.
Without any hesitation you should ask for anything in my name before my Father: forthwith he will supply all things for you abundantly. Whatever homes you happen to enter, first pray for the peace of salvation for the inhabitants; if they scorn it, it returns to you like an arrow shot against the nearest rock. But at the same time scorn their offerings; take nothing; nay, strike even the mud from your feet if any shall still be there, and move on to others, to whom your prayer for peace shall be more acceptable.
It is not right to take food unless it is easily procured; you should reject nothing either through overscrupulousness or through pride. Take what is prepared. Do not blush. You are worthy of an even ampler gift; those who substitute eternal things for earthly find their reward in their work. See that at all banquets you always occupy the last place, for which none of the diners shall envy you. (To all banquets the poor man is summoned more rightly and more fitly than the rich; indeed the education of the rich is a grave matter.) Shame shall await the proud; glory the humble. You should always lead a frugal life without which, as the master of your whole mind, you cannot act or think properly.
Take care that you do not stuff yourself with food and that you are not overloaded with wine, which makes a man rudderless. By necessity and not by your desire set bounds to the persistent appetite of your belly. Individual punishments are prepared for individual crimes. But all punishments are ready for the one sin of gluttony. He who has been held fast by his body as by a prison has not been so much intemperate for a long time as dead for a long time.
If you tame the violence of the flesh by abstinence, take care not to betray it by your looks. Nay, you should cheerfully oil your head, wash your face, and then be seen by all to do nothing differently than usual. For him who does this and who also refers all things to the glory of God, what is there which, having gained this, he would demand further? He is not twice punished and he is not set apart from God.
While you are praying, do not weave together many prayers foolishly, collecting the winds of public reputation but of an ignorant house. God, who hears all things well enough and sees them and besides deserves to be served actively even in the darkest night, will hear you more clearly the more secretly you pray.
When you share something with a petitioner--by the way keep your alms from no one, whether he be rich or poor, provided he asks; compassion knows not art; what thy right hand has done, let not the left hand know. But in thus lying hidden, you should not scorn glory so much that you slip into idleness, daring to do nothing except in secret. But in the midst of thousands lift men up by your male excellence; let your torches give a clear light and your lamps hang from your ceilings so that, the light conquering the darkness, they shall both illuminate all things and guide the steps of those who shall enter; and they, admiring the light of your mind, shall come to the God who produces such wisdom.
If perchance trust in your words should be denied (do not think that I wish to change the law or to add to it more than a bill of sale) it is wicked in this case to appeal to the spirits; do not call to witness the stars of Heaven and the vital light of the vault of the sky. It should be enough and more than enough to say what the situation is. Let not your deeds differ from your words. He who has known, has taught and has not acted shall be the least among you, especially because he is attacking the realm of God. He who knows shall pay a greater penalty than he who knows not. Each one must be busy for the wage guaranteed. Do not bury your talents, trusting them to the earth. He to whom more is trusted is more indebted.
All things I have spoken to you, spread openly everywhere. Do not deem everyone worthy of salvation, as you travel along the road (do not cause any delay to the gospel). Do not speak or ponder anxiously, when your words must be spoken to governors and kings; all arguments shall be brought to your mind and, though you are unprepared, a great power shall grow in you, and you shall fill your mind and your lips with the truth. Do not let the winds loose on the flowers nor the boars into the fountains; do not spread your pearls before the unclean swine for them to trample under foot. It is wicked (alas) it is wicked that these sacred things should be cast before dogs; we call those swine, who brood over their filthy wealth and the enticements of wealth so much that they have their hearts where they have their money. And they enjoy being plucked from it as much as swine from mud, since they hate and fear evangelical poverty and frugality. As well, there are dogs, who foul all places, hunting continually the booty they have started up--they are the orators, poets and other creatures of that type of glory who, captivated by their studies, die in them and would give up life rather than a new opinion (lest now they are shown to have been wrong before). If an evangelical gentleness is offered to them, they taste it and are inclined to vomit and spit it out; they enviously gnaw at it, tear at it with their teeth, and attack both it and its supporters. They flatter some, to separate them from it; they threaten others, to frighten them from it. Keep far away from worship of this kind by which this doctrine will be filled full of destruction.
Let there be no rivalry for office among you. He shall be the greater among you who conducts himself with more humility. Now fashion yourselves and your characters in the image of a small child: a child does not weave tricks against anyone; he does not envy anyone, betray or harm him. And if he is hurt, he forgives and forgets very easily. He does not grow pale for love of gold and does not grow hot with lust. He seeks necessities but neglects superfluous things. He does not know how to canvass for votes or how to fawn on anyone. He does not take what belongs to another; he offers his own things to everyone. He who is steering for the stars must at the same time steer along this road, otherwise he will be warded off from the approach. Do not run away from dangers but do not expose your life to them. If your jacket is taken away, give also your overcoat. If anyone strikes his hand on your left cheek, turn to him your right cheek as well and do not back away from the blow. Do not seek retaliation from your enemy. But like the sun be fair to good and bad alike.
If your brother treats you badly in any way and some dissension enters your mind, even while you are preparing the sacrifice, leave the victim at the altar, lest in honouring God any hostile look should occur, and do not allow your anger to continue further. Go, patch up the damaged goodwill until the cracks in the friendship are sealed rightly. There is no sacrifice more acceptable to God than this. He does not forgive you your sins unless you first forgive others. Hope for the same return as you pay to another. The things each man shall do, the same he shall expect. I want you to give back a return to your parents; think them worthy of any honour. To the naked give a cloak, to the hungry food. A gift given to them is prepared for God.
Keep thy hand from stealing, when ordered to place a share for all. Do not cast your eyes in all directions. He who feeds his eyes by gazing abroad is committing adultery in his heart, and his will is being bent, although lust may not follow; you must take the greatest precautions not to be netted by enticements of this kind: the pride of a woman stirs up fire, her good nature entices, a little pleasure demands a heavy punishment. Very many have cut down the lustful man with a knife and in the way of Heaven have scorned the love of a woman. Chastity is free and pleasing to God. But the loins must be attacked by the girdle of continence rather than cut off with a knife. Such a difficult task will win no small reward. The father of the flock separates the stags from the kids. I advise you to close your eyes, the windows of the head and the door of the mind, through which comes in that desire which takes possession of every place, which is more insatiable in the anticipation than in the enjoyment. Through them indeed light or darkness are let loose against the whole body. If the eyes are continent, the body will be continent. If the eyes are wanton, then the body will be wanton, a prey to all the lusts of a far wandering mind. Do not track with your eyes what it is wicked to obtain. Let no one put out the torch of marriage if he has once taken a wife and the wife is still surviving without knowledge of any other man. For a marriage that God has once produced should be unsinkable by the waves of life that fight against it.
I am the true vine; you also are branches. The branch cut off from the living tree withers up and will produce no fruit. Believe me, without me you grow just like those branches. Remain in me and I shall be in you. Every attempt and every effort without me is in vain. Never shall anyone climb to the high top of Heaven, unless the Father stretches out his hand and helps and lifts him up as he strives forward. But all the Father's kindness and care is centred on you; in a loud voice he calls all of you and offers himself; of his own accord he opens wide his arms to you. You shall reach this powerful lord with humble prayer. By prayers you shall win everything for which you call.
As one who casts up the back of the earth to be ploughed, and holds the plough-handle which guides the wheels from behind, if he turns his eyes backward, he cannot master the field and plough straight furrows; so is he who forgets his hope and is so weary of this great attempt, torn between the miserable desire for the life of the present and the realms of Heaven that call him; he is still held by love of those things which he has left and looks back on these, fearful of danger; for this foolish man, I suppose discharge from the service must be sought, since he does not carry his standards straight forward to Heaven and does not nourish a spirit worthy of Heaven; like a dog to vomit he changes the direction of his route.
Now allow the dead to offer sacrifices to the dead and pay the due ceremonies. Do not even be called from your vast enterprise by concern for the living. Anyone who does not stand by my side I judge to be my enemy. He who tries to sit on two seats is mad and most often is shoved off both. Thus he who wishes to serve two masters will indeed win no reward from either. How clearly they achieve nothing who serve God and Mammon. He thinks he is gaining something in the same way as insanity may think it is gaining prudence. God is the giver of all peace, quiet, joy; Mammon the creator of war, toil and grief. Whoever is fearful for his life loses it more than he saves it, but he who is generous with his life should not think it is lost. The Father will find it and one day take care of it for him and will give what cannot be bought by any life. In truth to him he will assign a part of the highest heaven.
Descending here from Heaven, I have come to loose fire on the world. I only want that which will burn and carry all things lightly with it up to the height, that which will make more men dry and fiery, harden them for bearing misfortune, cleanse all the gulfs of the human heart, loose the hidden vents of the breast through which the untameable heat of the high Heaven may penetrate, and not attack the more open veins lest it receive the water of this savage and raging sea.
Nor have I come to join any peace pacts. Nay, rather, we sow war and internal hate everywhere; we see to it that the flesh and the spirit hate each other and wage war in turn. Nevertheless, we must strain all our strength that the soul always be the victor, bring home the spoils (of victory) and cast chains on the enemy (which it may relax or tighten as necessary). The soul shall impose manners and teach the body to obey. Besides, let the soul use victory as is fitting, until the flesh shall have stooped willingly in defeat and accepts the laws which the victorious spirit has laid down; for unless it is subdued by the yoke and made to obey, the flesh rules.
Likewise, the mind must be curbed by the reason, as if by bars; for if it breeds anger within for a long time, the violence of its counsel and payment for it shall be imposed on it. But if, attacked by pain, it expels anything and its thin breath pours itself out (by which a little sickness is sprinkled on everyone), that shall be remembered when the accused is at the seat of judgement, and be hung on its back as no light fault. But if the mind broods and conceives again while still pregnant, and poison, more harmful than an aphrodisiac, flows from it, and hurtful words fall between them (unlike the eagle which, so as not to boil its eggs by its own heat, puts black lignite under its womb and tempers the heat), then the danger of Hell and its wide womb comes near and threatens life, and the accused shall be ill treated. What anyone does in anger, he shall wish undone. It is better not to act than to repent later.
We know of laws that are new but more sacred than the ancient laws; you who will be mine, see that you remember these laws: first make yourself mine; leave nothing for yourself. Nay, you should deny yourself and take up your cross and be ready to be stretched out on it. Therefore you who desire the same end as I should also seek that end and set a good heart against evil. Follow me as your leader through the many dangers.
Your father, your mother and your children, your money and your lands count as nothing compared to me (he is not worthy of me who prefers such things to me). Everyone either seeks to get something unfairly or seizes it when it has been procured by another. How prudently he acts who spends his gains on men and God. What will the wealth of the whole world profit you, if you are unlucky enough to suffer the loss of your soul? A rope enters the eye of a needle more quickly than a rich man enters Heaven. Now that rich man proves by his trouble what help are fine cotton, a mantle dyed in purple, a rich banquet and the luxury of royal pomp to one to whom no day could give any rest.
It is fitting to have faith; this is the first way to salvation. By faith, there is nothing that shall not be possible under your God. Even if you should be ordered to move a mountain from its foundation, suddenly and more quickly than a word, you will be seen to move it (so great is the force and power of faith). Nor shall anyone ever reach the high stars, unless first he has washed away his sins with living water (for everyone, in truth, they are the first sacrifice); the rottenness, surrounded by the fire of the pure Heaven, shall be consumed and leave the senses pure; the new man shall wondrously move out the old man and shall renew his strength with mystic food. He who uses this food least or abuses it, shall do wrong no less than if he were to betray me. But anyone who has duly strengthened himself with this sustenance as with a token the Father will easily grant a place in the citadel of Heaven and permit him to sit for ever at the banquets of the gods.
If your hand, your foot, your eye offend you, cut off your hand, throw away your foot, dig out your eye. For it is better for you to be lame in one foot, deprived of a hand, with one eye opened, I say it is better thus to come close to high Heaven than to have outstanding looks and be strong in all your limbs and yet, poor wretch, to be cast out into the fires of Hell.
Let no gifts, no rites, no love at all separate you from love of me.
You must love him who either hates you or even harms you. You shall prevail over him more by kindness than by arms, for when you pay back evil by good, you heap on his head coals by which all the base metal of his malevolence is boiled away and sweated out as useless liquid. But if he bids you go a mile with him, go two. Make up your quarrels immediately and agree with the party to which, let me say, you have spoken justly. Do not trust the gambling of the market place lest you win for yourself a black counter in place of your white one, as usually happens, and lest you fall because of this and be delivered over to prison. So that you may not be detained because you have become a bankrupt, make a point of discharging the last penny of your debt.
Let all irascibility be far from you, so that love may not be wounded even by your looks. When provoked, avoid all retaliation. There is no burden so heavy that patience will not lighten it. What I say to one, let each think it is said to him. Each of you, my men, should vigilantly think things out for himself. Always be prepared and stand ready for destiny, unsure of doubtful hope, whether you must depart from the body at the first moment after birth, when better blood shall give strength, or in heavy old age. For what grows green, the first day afterwards becomes dry hay and is sent thus dry into the fire.
Now you should hope that God is mindful of right and of wrong: he will share out the labour of the work in fair parts. To him who has so prepared himself that he brings to God a spirit free from sin, God shall in turn give (and this is not a vain hope) a priceless reward. But he who has organized his life badly shall be cast into the fires, the everlasting fires of Hell. In that place there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. It is wicked to sin, because the price of sin is death. Punishment is everlasting just as rewards are everlasting. Thus warned, do you hesitate to follow the better path? Do not hope for any darkness to cover your crimes. The light will not allow anything to be submerged in the deep darkness of fate. All things will be brought forward into the bright light, to be seen in every part and exposed to view.
Hear these words of mine and fix them fast in your hearts. All the things the Father explains to me, I explain to you. And now that they are known, keep my words as a great gift. Take care that you do not neglect such gifts. To him that has shall be given. Even if anything has been given to him that has not, it might be taken away. It is right for me to snatch away what I have given and what I have not given. I harvest what I do not sow.
Let not my oracles be trusted to those not genuine, for the more they lie hidden, the more light and very deep truth they show by which the eye of the mind becomes free from the darkness.
You are the light of the world; let your light shine on others. You are the salt of the earth; see that you give salt to others. If the light is hidden, if the salt loses its savour, they are of no use to anyone.
That one point, friends, one thing before all others again and again I shall advise, asking you and at the same time commanding you that you should love one another, just as you see I have loved you. It is hardly possible to give any more sure pledge of my love for you than that I am prepared for your sakes to give up my life. Do you want me to sum up all my advice as it were in one bundle? The sum of the law turns on this double hinge: first, fear God and yet accept him with all your heart and never cast him out of your breast. Let him be your God; let him be your God, I say, for ever. Hold him second to none; cherish him with the same goodwill as you cherish your nearest and dearest. Do not refuse him anything you do not deny yourselves. The favours you do not grant yourself, do not grant him. Take care of the soul more than the body, but of each take especial care: let neither ask in vain from you for anything belonging to good and blessed action.
To these I would put as it were a finishing touch, if you will follow all my instructions to the letter and rightly. Yet say that you are useless slaves; do not count the cost of the reward from this: do not spread to the winds what I have written, who have written only the beginning and the end of all these things. You should not now hope that another Messiah will come. If anyone else says that he has come as the Messiah, do not believe him; do not even go outside to see him, once your faith in me is established and confirmed by so many miraculous things in which no one so far has equalled me. I should not want to think that this was said arrogantly. If I take this for myself, I seem to do it in my own right, since by my voice the envious devil and boiling fever and burning leprosy and sluggish paralysis have been routed and gone away into the winds. The absent slave of the centurion grows well; the dear son beloved of his mother, her only son, is now brought out, is awakened and receives the use of his useless hand. Also very many injuries were cured. By my words Lazarus was raised from the dead. I lifted him up and strengthened his weak knees. And my exaltedness has not been hidden long from you. I crossed the waves on dry feet. At my command the sea quickly grew calm. More quickly than a word the sea settled, the wind dropped, and all the legion of devils was turned into swine. The poisonous serpent was confined, and the daughter of the priest was restored to her father. With five loaves and two fishes--and these indeed were very small--five thousand men were satisfied and far more was left over than had been given. A woman robbed by doctors is cured. The dropsy was eased, and ten men were cleared of scabs. Sight was restored to the eyes of a traveller. The boy who kept throwing himself into the fire and into water was freed. Strength came from my robe when it was touched by one who doubted not. The silence of one long mute was broken. From its dead trunk a fig tree at my order suddenly sprouted fruit.
It is not my pleasure nor have I time to cover everything nor shall I now follow through all that will happen from beginning to end. Woe to those who, conscious of miracles and of the spirit, are obstinate beyond the opinion of the mind and do not find rest in those things which they know are not to be doubted. On no day shall their shameless wickedness be washed away, and it shall spread over their descendants, who shall be bereft of light. I have said these things to warn you and not to boast. I have never hunted for my own glory but for the glory of the Father himself who sent me down here, whose great excellence and power I am. He who sees the Son also sees the Father. If the Father remains in me, I at the same time remain in the Father. If now any comparison is made it is no different from the fire coming out of the kindling and the light coming out of the fire. The kindling is the Father, the fire is the Son and the light is the Spirit. The three mingle with each other in one godhead. All three are the one and the One is all three. The three have one majesty, equal glory, the same divinity and a like essence.
Now we have covered much of the way. Look, there it is. Let us enter the garden. Alas, what a great tumult will be stirred up tonight: fear will come upon you as you wander up and down, as I see the doves wandering on sacred wings. For a long time the prophet, inspired by his deity, has prophesied that the shepherd shall be slain and that the sheep shall wander far and wide. Take your stand here, while I go over there to pray to my Father. Bariona and you, the sons of Zebedee, who believed in all the things I did, leave the others and come nearer. As you were once witnesses of my glory, be now in the same way witnesses of my sorrow.
Alas, what great dread and what great uneasiness come over me! My heart is constantly sad over my departure. Come, look forward, turn your mind. Pray that no temptation may enter your mind: the flesh is weak but the spirit is willing. I am going hence as far as a stone can be thrown and there for the third time I shall kneel and pray to my Father.
Father, my strength, Father, you can do all things. Pity your son, who fears harsh treatment (if the course of your fate allows it), for thus the fear of death now forces me to descend to prayers of every sort. If you still have any love for me or if anything of mine was once sweet to you, let this cup pass from me, I beseech you. But if you command that it must be drunk, whatever it pleases you to do with me, Father, is lawful. But, O the pain, the pain! What man would not be terrified by the ferocious tortures which I imagine in my mind? Father, do you have a heart still unable to be satisfied with my work? Do you never first grieve in my grief? O the dread of death, harder than any death. O the shame, heavier than any death.
But I see a messenger from Heaven approaching. Hail, kind agent of God.
ANGEL. Hail, at the same time to you, Christ, unique desire and delight of the Father, to whom from the high summit of Heaven I have by God's order come, so that, just as I worship God, I may also comfort a true man, who is bearing all human sufferings after the manner of men and is terrified by a deep fear of death. Hem, where has that strength which was once in you gone, by which you once pledged to redeem the race of mortals with your blood? Do you think that those whom you have often taught bravery and constancy are being led by this example of yours not to heed dangers which threaten? Or are you terrified by death, the end of troubles? Do you pledge your life and does the glory of this action fail you? Do you not receive Heaven in advance through your hope? Are you in this far inferior to many mortals who of their own accord have ended their lives, not knowing where destiny would take them: but you, with foreknowledge of the future, free from worry, are yet delaying the time of peace and beatitude? Cease now to hope that fate can be changed by your prayers. Strike out this fear from your mind; recall your courage; this task must be endured by you.
CHRIST. Your words are as true as your commands are difficult, Angel. Alas, how much sweat is flowing out through my limbs; look, the ground is red and wet with blood and sweat. For the third time I must revisit my followers whose limbs have been conquered by sleep and by too much sorrow. They will not know what to do or what to reply. But I shall scold them that they may be roused more quickly. Are you sleeping, sons of God, amid such great danger? Could you not watch with me for one hour? Now, as it pleases you, rest according to your will. For now the hour is at hand; I am coming into the hands of my enemies. Hem, the unwearied Judas is not snoring, for he is about to betray me to death, too too forgetful of me and of himself, he presses near. Get up and let us go of our own accord to meet him as he comes this way.
JUDAS. Begin nothing which you can't finish properly. It is well known that a villainous deed and one rather badly begun may turn out dangerously. By any justice or by any injustice I shall take vengeance for the fortune snatched from my jaws. How much does this affluence worry me? My feet are oiled; my head is anointed with myrrh; these things shall repay me for his blood.
You soldiers, follow my lead. I know the way, the place and the man. You servants who are carrying torches or fire in horns, change your course that way, to the nearby garden, which the brook Credron washes; the man often retires there with his followers. That you may know the facts, I want to warn you that you should seize the one I kiss (for there will be two who look alike and who are not much different in size). Lead him away carefully with his arms bound tightly behind his back.
Men, be careful. For sometimes I have seen him coming through a crowd, not recognized by any mortal nor, by Hercules, even seen. He comes secretly like this so that he may escape the bands of followers. I will greet him and fold my arms around him. At this sign seize the man, lift him up on your shoulders and use brute force.
But look. No, it can't be he. Yes, it is certainly Jesus and he has offered himself to us of his own free will. Full of trust he comes to meet us. O face newly seen by me. O me, how much of a God there is in his looks. I shudder. My teeth are on edge with fear.
CHRIST. Where are you going? Whom are you looking for at this time of night?
CHORUS. We're looking for Jesus of Nazareth.
CHRIST. I am Jesus. Why are you looking for me in the dark as if I were hiding? I tell you this, unless I were willing you would not be able to see me even in the broad daylight. Why do you bear arms against me? Why are you thus suddenly terrified at my voice? Mm. You are tottering back as if you were drunk or driven by the winds of lightning. Do you not acknowledge your own impotence? I ask you: whom are you looking for?
CHORUS. We've already told you. We're looking for Jesus.
CHRIST. I, Jesus, am here.
JUDAS. O best master, welcome. Give yourself to my embrace. Don't pull back your face from my face. Give me a kiss.
CHRIST. Why do you cover such a monstrous wickedness with a kiss? Judas, why have you come here? What are you seeking for yourself from this? If you are a friend, why arms? If an enemy, why a kiss? I shall not refuse, although I know I am being betrayed by this man. But hear my words, Judas: it would have been better for you to have been deprived of this life than to have hoped for this wickedness, and above all to have gained what you hoped for. What villainy is there into which the cursed hunger for gold does not force men? There will be a time when you will wish that I, who was paid for with such a large sum, was untouched, and you will hate those pieces of gold and this day.
But what madness turns the minds of you, the leading citizens? Why do you look for me in the darkness, as if I were a thief? This is unlawful, even if the nobles approve of it. You saw me before in the daylight haranguing the multitude in the temple, quite often; why, since you've arrested me here, did you not arrest me there? Do you feel so guilty that you fear the light?
DISCIPLES. What a shameful disgrace! Are we to allow you, Master, to be dragged away thus, without seeking vengeance? Please, allow us, who intend to take vengeance for this injustice, to decide it by the sword.
CHRIST. Put up with it; yield to God.
PETER. Love lends me arms: you butcher, will you put your hands on my master? Scoundrel, you shall pay me for such an audacious crime. Now you shall feel what Peter's hand can do.
CHRIST. Look, Peter. Madness stirs this anger in you now; have you been taught in vain by me so often by so many words and deeds to bear injustice and do you not allow me to comply with my father's wishes? It is right that all the oracles about me should be fulfilled. Drop your sword and return it to its sheath. Such a great cause does not demand a mailed fist. Be apprehensive for what you have done: he who shall slay with the sword shall fall by it. Besides, have you forgotten that if I asked my father, he could gather an army of helpers, each one of whom would be more powerful than all of these? But Malchus, come here: I restore your ear to you. Say nothing.
CHORUS. You will not move us by this; you will be made a prisoner, crafty one.
CHRIST. I am not delaying you. Now I allow myself to be dragged away and beaten, as you please. But I want those to whom my father gave me to depart in safety; it is not fair that any of them should be destroyed; allow them to go away wherever it seems best.
CHORUS. Why should we allow this now? It lightens our load; hmnn. They've gone off swiftly in different directions, like a mist, and fear has given them wings. One of them has slipped away and left his cloak.
JOHN. That great love with which I have embraced Christ does not allow my mind to rest. Nay, I will offer up my life with my cloak, so that I may help with my presence him whom it is not other wise granted to help. I will go and will follow his path where I may through the darkness.
PETER. Take me as your companion for this road. As great as was the vigour of my windy tongue yesterday, so great is the shame that now burns in my heart for running away; I shall bear all dangers with indifference.
JOHN. Do you want to follow me, even though I risk death?
PETER. Where you lead, there I go; you may take me with you into all perils; since I deserted him, life is not for me.
JOHN. Let us go then; keep close to my side; but stop, be quiet, stand with ears pricked up. That noise comes from the house of Annas, who has married his daughter to the Chief Priest. It is well, since I have been very well known to him from boyhood. Wait here until I know what the state of things is. I will go close to the house.
PETER. Fear again comes upon me; the darkness frightens me; so does the noise and the silence and the solitude and a crowd--every thing frightens and I am a terror to myself.
JOHN. Ho there. Peter. Peter.
PETER. Who calls me?
JOHN. Peter, come here. O Syra, please give permission for this man to come inside.
SYRA. Permission granted. Tell me, my fine friend, something of this man. Are you one of the followers of Jesus? Yes, you are indeed. For I have often seen you close to the side of the Galilean.
PETER. How is it possible that I should be one of his followers? I've not met him on any occasion, and I don't know what you want, unless you want some sport at my expense.
JOHN. You be quiet, my girl. Allow him to go into the hall to the hearth.
ANOTHER SERVANT. By your faith in a servant, look at this fellow in the vestibule! Unless his face and my eye deceive me grossly, he is certainly one of the group who were looking after this Jesus of Galilee, and he comes from the same place.
STORAX. Yes, Jesus used to have him always before his eyes. He alone knew the quiet approaches and the timetable of the man. To him Jesus entrusted his followers and his plans.
CHORUS. Surely you are not serving such a leader?
PETER. No, so help me God. For with what hope should I give myself to the service of this poor fellow?
SERVANT. Do you see how he swears? He wishes to save himself by perjury. Tomorrow, my cock, I will see that you are emasculated, since you always crow me this dirge when I want to sleep. I'm about to sleep.
ANNAS. Now my business is with the most cunning man of all: one who always has seemed to speak obscurely and in riddles. Unless I handle him with equal cunning, I shall accomplish nothing and shall not dig out the truth. In this very little is to be done by me. For we have bribed the witnesses and we prove whatever we please, and even more than we please, for while these witnesses think that they are disparaging him, they are disparaging us, for they tell of his actions, which cannot be truly reported without giving Christ glory. I will order him to be brought before me and will carefully address the crafty rogue.
Tell me, Christ, to what place did the company of your followers run away, when they deserted you--those idle creatures you trained for so many days in this hope, as was right, that they would share with you both safety and danger? O men of no faith! You favoured them in so many ways in the past; you pledged that in the future you would give them more, if you gained the kingdom which your father owes you; you have known the laws which are the defenders of liberty and which would cast off the yoke of this slavery to Moses and would annul these old womanish rituals by which so many people have been subdued and netted. I should be glad to hear of these things from you, if you have the time.
CHRIST. Annas, this is neither the place nor the time for speaking; I have always talked publicly to all, and in the open temple to men of our race one by one. Ask those who heard me; they know what I said.
MALCHUS. Have you such confidence in your birth that you dare to reply so impudently to the Chief Priest? Ho there. Hold him.
CHRIST. Malchus, why are you banging your fist on my cheek? If I have spoken badly either here or elsewhere, bring some evidence; if I have spoken well, by what confidence do you attack me? Is truth so hateful to you, and has it been in the past, that you fail to acknowledge it yourself and slight one who does acknowledge it? Why are you assaulting me? Why do you dare to hit me with your hand?
ANNAS. My mind foresaw what has happened. For this sly fox, as usual, has neither said anything nor everything, nor can he ever be caught by words but remains inflexible and unafraid. I will send him to Caiaphas, who is this year's High Priest and has for some time been welcoming to his palace the priests, all burning with hatred for this man. Each of them for a long time has held the view that it is right for one life to be offered to save many. With this
stick I will explain myself and will make it welcome to him. There fore, come, seize and bind him; drag him off and beat him.
PETER. Wherever the master be sent, we must certainly follow him.
CHORUS. There is no malice so cruel that it cannot grow even worse under a wicked agent. By his skill he makes the worst even worse.
SANGA. You recall all the orders you've been given? You remember everything?
TESTES. Yes, by God.
SANGA. It is fitting that you remember the orders, so that a ready lie may help the memory which truth often takes from the liar.
TESTES. Wine stirs up the memory and breeds boldness.
SANGA. Take care, fools; wine reveals secrets.
TESTES. I've a great thirst.
SANGA. Afterwards you will drink generously and the promised money will be paid.
TESTES. Will be paid? You will not bait us by hope; hand over the cash.
SANGA. I give you my word.
TESTES. Ah hah. A fine pledge. You may keep this for those who don't know that your promises are very flexible.
SANGA. I will sell all my hopes for less than a penny if I break my word. I should be unwilling to start a lawsuit, even if one could be started. In it I should rather be the accused than the plaintiff.
DROMO. This right hand of mine needs eyes. Unless it sees, it does nothing. It only believes in what it receives. Money is needed, not words. Count out your money now or you may lament that your witnesses are different from the ones you wish.
SANGA. Take the money then, on this condition, that it be lawful for us to claim it back unless you in due time speak before the court both promptly and boldly what we have dinned into you. And take care that no covetousness be evident. But, ho there, you, Sannio, you seem faint-hearted.
SANNIO. Yes. I am very anxious.
SANGA. Can you speak with individuals one by one?
SANNIO. Yes.
SANGA. A crowd is made up of individuals; so don't be afraid. You, Dromo, are superstitious and you say that you fear God, as if God does not wish this impostor to be harshly punished.
DROMO. I fear God but I fear the devil more.
SANGA. Surely you are not still so influenced by stories that you think that devils exist?
DROMO. Certainly they exist.
SANGA. Bah, you ridiculous fool. Fear of the wolf was falsely put into you as a boy. Now that you're a man, because you cannot be deceived by that story any more, they make up invisible devils who terrify you quite as unreasonably as the wolves do the boys. If they existed, the secret ways of avarice would have dug them out. But go inside--all of you--into the hall. The priest is calling for you. Work on your faces so that there may not be any suspicion.
CHORUS. By God, neither falsehood nor truth can be sufficiently hidden by any veil. For how many days (curse it) have we wasted our labour and our oil on teaching these witnesses to tell lies? We have almost plucked their ears off by pulling at them. But they still do not know how to speak the words calmly. Their evidence doesn't stick together any better than loose rocks, as the proverb says. They stubbornly agree not to agree. They wish to impress everyone by their evidence. Since they do not agree, they greatly lessen the weight of their evidence. Just look at those two brazen ones. By their faces they are clearly very cunning half-wits.
Hallo there, my good men, come this way. Do you know this man?
TESTES. Yes. We know him well.
CHORUS. What is his name?
TESTES. Christ.
CHORUS. Where does he come from?
TESTES. It is not clear. I did not have enough leisure to clear up that question. If I had had time, it would not have been pleasant to use it on that subject. However, rumour has it--it's a well-founded report--that he is a Galilean. Wherever he came from, he is the most vile example of his own and his country's vice.
CHORUS. You've heard him talking to the crowd?
TESTES. Quite often.
CAIAPHAS. Did you not see him when he was saying something seditious or impious?
TESTES. He made very many seditious and impious comments, but everything has gone out of our minds except this one thing, that he would destroy this temple of God, level its roof to the ground and overturn it from its base, but within three days after that he would raise it up again even more magnificently than the present building.
CAIAPHAS. You are silent now? You do not provide any answer to disparage the faith of the witness or to lessen the charge? You gallows rogue, will you overturn the temple of God? Have you nothing to reply to this (but what could you have?), you monster of a man? Come, by the spirit of the God of Heaven, whom you say is the author of your birth and whom you call father, I charge you to speak to me now: do you take your race from heaven and are you the son of the living God?
CHRIST. You say that I am the Son of God and I shall not deny it.
CAIAPHAS. By the faith of gods and men! What impudence, what wickedness and what an intolerable crime! Why do we still need witnesses? We have his confession; what now seems the best thing to do?
CHORUS. He richly deserves any death, even the most disgraceful, but do not torment yourself and do not tear your cloak in shreds; go back--he will pay the penalty in due time; go back now to your room. For the night comes on apace and the stars persuade us to sleep.
CAIAPHAS. Do you think that I can rest?
CHORUS. Why not? Leave him to these--witnesses. Indeed he will rest far less than you, if we know these men well. For you will nowhere find any men harsher than these or more cunning in thinking up punishments. They will decorate the prisoner according to his virtues.
CAIAPHAS. Since I see you are so ready and willing, I will leave this province to you: bind him by chains to that column: let the God of Gods feel that he is a man.
CHORUS. The operation shall be taken care of for you.
Bah to you, Christ,
Peace to you, Christ;
Taste this fist.
Let this right hand stick to your cheek.
Bah to you, Christ
Peace to you, Christ
Bah to you, Christ.
Tell me now, if you are Christ the prophet; Who struck your head with that blow?
Bah to you, Christ,
Peace to you, Christ.
Now pay the penalty of the guilty.
Mm. Are you turning your cheek to me of your own accord? You do not turn from the blow as the dung from the ditch reaches you. You, who asked for the honours of the gods for yourself, you who were lately carried through the city on a donkey and who were quite happy at the popular favour, you whose named filled all the mouths of the shouting rabble, what are you?
Samaritan,
Devil,
Great Glutton,
Great Chamber-pot,
Beast in looks?
Spit away. You're not going out, are you?
No night has ever been longer for you than this one.
PARMENO. How true it is that what is sought is not sufficiently known; it is almost never known before regret begins, especially when the job of providing food is sought and thought about. That is adding slavery to slavery. First the account of the receipts and payments must be rendered. Then if by chance you show anything less than you have written down before, it is shown up by your loss. If the crop is sold too dearly, then trust in you wavers and respect for you slips. The master sees the day sheet, reads it, is silent; but by this silence he hints at worse things than if he attacks you openly with insults. You can neither rightfully be silent nor speak. Silence brings the suggestion of theft; speaking up the mark of arrogance. But all these troubles which the master wishes to be tolerated are less than those which, willy nilly, must be tolerated from your fellow slaves. I leave out jealousy, gossip, insults, curses and other abuses of that type, which by comparison must be called very trivial. There is no place nor time when they are not laying snares and planning trickery against you. It almost never happens that anyone, especially the steward who takes care of the victuals, against whom the whole house is inclined to gang up, can win the favour of both his fellow slaves and of the master. The slaves hate his frugality; the master loves it. The master threatens if you waste a penny. If you are thrifty over costs, the slaves shout that you are doing this by your own authority and call the heir. They are more voracious than any purple fish. If you hide anything, they search for the place where you've hidden it, just like witches or howling wolves or dogs after entrails. Nor, by Hercules, can anything be kept safe enough from them. Whether clothes, money or food are hidden, they search through all things, even the little bits of dirt. However, when the account has been balanced, if you bring together the sum total, it is better to be laden down with work than with office. And it is better for life to be passed with too much work than too swiftly, since indeed you never wish to be demoted to a job where you are less than you were before. And so there is no place of idleness for me. I must check every part of the house with this light until it has spewed forth all this plague of robbers.
PETER. Poor me. Not even an hour of hiding is given. There are no dark corners and no place safe enough for one who is afraid. May God destroy you, old man, with that light of yours; but I will imitate the scorpion and cling to the wall.
PARMENO. Ho, there. Why, you rogue, are you skulking here? What are you stealing from here, you villain? Stand still here, if you have any care for yourself. Surely you are not guilty of swearing an oath of allegiance to this Christ? Come now, you cannot deny it.
CHORUS. Truly, old man, you are one of the followers of Christ. The discordant sound of your voice sufficiently proves that very thing. And your dialect clearly shows that you are a Galilean.
CIRCUS. Didn't I see you in the garden with him, thief? Surely you were the one who just now cut off the ear off my fellow tribes man?
PETER. May I be persecuted by the Furies, if I even knew this man by sight. I call as witness of the oath the man himself who is here. (It won't be possible to imagine that I am a liar or deceitful in this.) Now may the great ruler of the earth and of the heaven drive me with his thunderbolt to the darkness of Hell, if ever any thing has passed between the prisoner and me.
That is to be wise: to neglect honour for the moment, while you take thought for the danger to your life. But now the cock crows for me a second time and by his nod Jesus warns me of something. Ah yes, I know now. Is there anyone more inconstant and of more wavering faith? O, who will give me water for my head? Who will weep tears for me?
O thrice and four times lost am I! O insane madness! Who can take my disturbed mind away from me? Miserable, ah miserable me! What road of safety is there now for me? Was it not enough and more than enough to have run away, while they were laying their hands on him, unless now I also say that Christ was not abandoned? What was I to do? If it had not already been done, I should act just as I did. O me--ungrateful, inhuman, treacherous wretch. Could neither so many merits nor so much kindness nor any filial affection warn or move me to remember the faith I had promised? How beautifully brave I seemed to myself when danger was absent; now, at the small voice of a mere woman, without force, without injury, disgracefully (for it is not right for anyone to put his trust in God unwillingly) I have sworn an oath immediately that I did not even know this man for whom I before boasted vigorously that I would die.
CHORUS. There is no kind of torment worse than envy which so agitates those awake and those asleep that it never allows them to rest for even a short time.
CAIAPHAS. In the night, and how long a night it was, I did not close my eyes in sleep. No one was allowed to disturb me as I lay on my usual bed covered with blankets and surrounded by curtains, but I kept turning here and there from side to side, raising my legs, tossing my arms and head, now on my front, now on my back: I say I suffered more, yes more, than Jesus; but today I shall act.
CAIAPHAS. Greetings, holy priests.
PRIESTS. Greetings to you, our chief and best priest.
CAIAPHAS. Where is that most desperate trickster now?
PRIESTS. You will see him much changed from the fellow who last night boasted that he was God.
CAIAPHAS. Why is that? Has our unyielding decision changed him?
PRIESTS. We do not know; he has spoken nothing and the lashes did not give any chance for words. But he is here; you will be able to ask him yourself.
CAIAPHAS. Come here, Christ, speak openly and do not keep us anxious any longer: Are you the son of God, the ruler of heaven and earth?
CHRIST. If I say that I am the son of God, you will have no faith in my words; but if I were to keep inquiring of you and were to ask what you honestly know, you would not admit it nor reply nor free me, unless you freed me for death. I will not cease to warn you of the one fact that the one whom you deny and whom you wish to be the son of man, you will soon see ruling heaven with his heavenly hosts and sitting at the right hand of God the Father.
CAIAPHAS. You take your birth from heaven, then, and you are the son of God?
CHRIST. You say most correctly that I am the son of God: I am.
CAIAPHAS. What can be clearer than this proof? By his own evidence he betrays himself, like a shrew mouse. From his own lips we have heard the blasphemy.
CHORUS. It has been thus ordained that crimes bring punishment to their authors; no one may drive away the punishment, but it hangs over him. No keener tormentor is ever found than the conscience, which does not allow the guilty man to rest in his mind. Very often the conscience-stricken punish themselves more than they would wish the guilty to be punished if they had suffered an injury. And they welcome death more gladly than pardon.
JUDAS. O sacrilegious, wicked and impious are these men, who refuse to give back the man I betrayed for cash, though the same cash has been paid back to them. They have what they gave; and at the same time what I gave. Bah, religion! They claim that they will use the money to buy some ground for the burial of foreigners. Cautious in small things, blind in the greatest, they refuse to take blood-money back into their treasury. They are not disturbed by my repentance for such a crime and by their own knowledge that they are so impiously seeing to it that an innocent man is condemned. What, they say, is that to us? Have we not kept our bond? See, if you like, what you have done yourself. Am I to see? With what eyes shall I look upon such a savage crime? O what a man I am, if I am a human being. I am far wilder than any beast, most miserable me. Alas, what am I to do? Whither shall I turn? Oho, I am being swept along, maddened by the Furies.
O me. What madness is agitating my mind. Go away, all of you who have stable minds, lest any contagion from my crime attack you; depart immediately from this place. Was I ever able to drive my treacherous mind to think of such a wicked crime? Who (supposing he even would wish it), who can now protect me? Who, I ask you, would not turn away from one so deceitful? Who would not shudder at such a wickedly impious and treacherous villain? Who would not attack me? Am I who destroyed Christ by betraying him like a sheep to ravenous wolves, am I now to call him master? Nay, father most good-natured?
Now let me wish that the depths of the earth would gape open for me, where the blind night takes the colour away from the earth: where, submerged in the deepest shadows and darkness, I may for ever be buried where no eye of beast, where no knowledge of infamy can follow me. What should I suffer compared with what I've suffered before? What am I saying? What way is there for me? I do not know if I exist and I am not glad that I am alive; would that I had never existed, worthy as I am of a thousand deaths. One death will not be enough atonement for this crime. Why do I hesitate, and gaze longer at the light? Or do I wish to enjoy life--I who in my abandoned madness caused the author of the light and of this life to be violently shaken from life and light? What, except a rope, now at last remains for miserable me?
ALECTO. So powerful and so sweet is the love of life in all men and, on the other hand, so great the fear of death, that even now there is danger that he may return to his senses, unless I keep pressing him on. He must be helped to the noose by me; today I shall be seen to have brought about two actions most different but most useful to me and to my followers, if I drive Judas to his death and carry him off headlong to hell with me, and if I free from death Christ, who, it is said, will one day attack and despoil the gods below (certainly the prophets have for a long time been prophesying this about his life).
I will go to the man. Hail, Judas, how right you are to be angry. Fasten the noose round your throat; Atropos gives your portion to you as a gift. Why do you wish any longer to enjoy this odious light, hated as you are by gods and men? What place have you now for honour or for life? Why do you put it off? The briefer is the better in time of trouble. And you would never hope for pardon for such a monstrous crime.
JUDAS. I neither hope for it nor seek it; nor, if it were now given, would I want it. I ask no one for help except you for one thing (you have provided a rope at your expense and taken pains in my case); I ask you now to fasten the noose around my neck and to break my gullet; when I have fastened the knot of death from yonder tree, you should hang on my shoulders and press me down with all your force. But so accursed, so impious and wicked am I that no tree will deem me worthy of hanging.
ALECTO. O, yes, that nearest one, the elder tree will deem you worthy; hold fast to it. Climb up those boughs.
JUDAS. I will do so willingly.
ALECTO. Even more willingly am I on hand for the event. Proceed.
JUDAS. Fear comes over me.
ALECTO. Proceed. I will finish it off for you suddenly.
JUDAS. I have climbed up: now do your job.
ALECTO. I am doing it. Peace. What sort of wind is breaking out from him? Oho, his middle is rumbling: he hasn't breathed out his spirit from his mouth, like other mortals, but from his belly.
It wasn't fitting that his spirit should burst forth where the kiss was given. He's marked down with me for eternal flames (which are prepared for those who lose heart and for those who despair of ever gaining pardon); his spirit I will carry away with me to the marsh of Styx and the pools of Cocytus, and lest his body should infect the air itself I'll take it along because neither the beasts, birds nor unfed hounds nor even wolves, however starved, would touch it.
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