University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The field of Aceldama, flanked by a wood. Mount Calvary in the distance. Time, evening.
Enter John, James, and Peter with his face hidden in his hands.
John.
Take comfort; for our Lord hath often said
The truth that rests at bottom of the heart,
By that shall ye be judged; let it come forth
In act, and then 'tis virtue.

Peter.
How did truth
Come forth in me?

John.
'Twas but an accident
Of half thy nature; but when thou didst draw
Thy sword, then spake thy heart;—and deeper spake
When at his bidding thou didst sheath the blade.
Come on with us.

James.
Come, see our Master die,
That our last lesson from him—how to bear
The loss of earthly hopes for the truth's sake,
We may receive.

Peter.
And also how to give
Our life in martyrdom for his dear name.

John.
Come, Peter!—brother, come!

Peter.
I am unworthy.

[Exit Peter.
John.
Our Lord is on his way. Hear you the noise
Of the distant multitude?

James.
Where shall we stand?

John.
Beside his lofty Cross, until it tremble
With his last anguish—and his victory.

[Exeunt.
Enter a crowd of Jewish people; men, women and children; with a number of Roman soldiers mingling among them.
(Many Jewish voices cry aloud,—
“Crucify him! crucify him!
“His blood be on us, and on our children!” [Exeunt.


Enter Judas, with a handful of earth clutched in his fingers.
Judas.
If he, being Son of God, consent to die,
Seeming to prove the truth of all their taunts;—
If, with the power he hath to smite this city—
The temple, tabernacle, all the hosts
And men of valour—pharisees, scribes, priests—
He will not speak—he will not lift his hand;—
If truly, God in him, can with a thought
Bring earthquake underneath Jerusalem,
To swallow all, save his own chosen flock,
Yet he consent meekly to be nailed down
Upon a felon's Cross, which they have sworn
To plant on yonder mount between two thieves,
There, 'midst revilings, taunts, and jeers, to die—
The drooping head, the languishing swoll'n limbs—
He—our Lord Jesus—whom I have betrayed,
Dying this death—O God, the Eternal Eye!
Scorch up this reasoning—blight each maddening sense—
Confuse my life with any creeping thing,
So that I know it not—make me a stone,
Wherefrom no iron-heel shall strike one spark—
Make me a darkness!—let me melt to rain,
And steal beneath the earth! I hear them coming!
(Judas drops on his knees.)
Seest thou, Jehovah, him thou fashionedst
With strength and order, what he hath become?
A wild and hideous perplexity,
That hideth from himself! Oh pass him by,
E'en as this clot of earth, which he scraped up
To look for death, and leave this upper hell—
And in especial save him from this night—
See him not—know him not—nor ask for him.
(Rising in terror.)
Where is the man called Judas?—where is he?
Thunder is in my brain—the clouds are silent.
No where, Lord!—no where—Judas is no more!

(Voices of a distant crowd.)
Enter Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.
Nico.
This is the man, Judas Iscariot!
See where he lurketh underneath the trees!

Joseph.
Let not our eyes behold him, lest we dream
Of monstrous things that breed unholy thoughts,
And loss of faith in nature. Hast thou seen
The place I have selected for the tomb
Of Jesus?

Nico.
I have seen it.

Judas.
No! no! no!
He is not dead—he is the Son of God,
And cannot die!—why speak ye of the tomb!
Unless it be for Judas?

Joseph.
Thither we
Will bear his sacred body, and our hearts
Shall dwell with him in that cold sepulchre
Where glory seeketh rest within the shade.

Nico.
Aloes, and myrrh, and spices will I bring,
And swathes of finest linen.

Joseph.
We must sue
To Pilate first, that he should render us
The body.

(Judas smites his forehead with his earthy hand.)
Nico.
He will grant this, if all's done
With secrecy.

Joseph.
Lord Jesus, we attend thee!

[Exeunt Joseph and Nicodemus.
Judas.
The body, said they!—how the field whirls round!
A pharisee and a lawyer bury Christ!
Bury him!—bury the Son of God!
And now—
The women come! It is the Mother of Christ
That walketh foremost with a steadfast eye,
Red with her sleepless anguish, but no tear.
Her thoughts are heavenward—where shall I crouch down?—
I still must stare upon her!

Enter Mary (the Mother of Christ) and her Sister; Mary Magdalene, and Mary the wife of Cleophas.
M. Mag.
Twice he sank
Beneath the weight—I saw him through the crowd.
His pale, long-suffering face look'd up to God,
And smiled.

Wife of C.
Then from his shoulders, newly scourged,
Took they the cross, seeing he could not walk,
For very faintness under blows and wounds.

M. Magd.
Not pitying, but cursing—shall I speak
Of curses, and not use them?

(She points towards Judas.)
M. Sister.
'Tis the shadow
Of a tree-trunk.

M. Magd.
Behind it croucheth close
A wild beast, gnashing in his impotence,
Or in remorse, as vain. There is no hope
That Judas shall find pardon on the earth,
Nor in the grave. Earth with its myriad snakes,
Hisseth against him, and the grave will utter
A shriek at his approach! Nothing remains
For him but constant horror, and himself.

Mother.
Do not disturb the greatness of the hour.

M. Sister.
Jesus approacheth. Let us follow him,
And take our places upon Calvary.

[Exeunt, all but Judas.
Judas.
One saith, behold a monster! another saith,
Lo! a wild beast!

(Sounds of an approaching crowd. Judas clasps his arms round a tree, and tears the bark with his teeth.)
Enter Lazarus, solemnly.
Laza.
Cold with the shadows of the grave upon me,
And dusky in my body and my mind,
I yet do walk abroad with higher sense
Of life;—and round about me wonders float—
Gleamings and whispers—and before my path
God's finger sometimes writeth in the sand.

Judas.
(in an audible whisper).
Thou art one risen from the dead!—Oh tell me,
If the dead recollect their deeds on earth?

Laza.
Somebody speaketh.

Judas.
Come no nearer to him.—
Thou saidst God's finger wrote upon the sand,
What did it write?—Judas Iscariot?

Laza.
Doth thy crime fill thy mind to such a pass,
Thou think'st God writeth of it?

Judas.
Verily.

Laza.
Then I will pray for thee.

Judas.
Oh terrible!

(Judas sinks behind the tree, as Lazarus raises his hands.)
Laza.
Jehovah!—Spirit of all life we know—
All life unknown—whether in earth or star,
Or in the region men call death—Great Father
Of the Divine One who is on his way
To die upon a cross between two thieves—
Let him, who seemeth awful to himself,
Because he hath approached thy shadow nearer
Than other men—and hath thereby a sense
Of somewhat more profoundly spiritual
Thrilling on all sides—offer up a prayer,
Asking for mercy and a gentle death,
In Christ's pure name, which halloweth all words;—

(Tumult near at hand.)
Judas.
—Quick! quick! I hear them.

(A Concourse pass along the back of the field, with a large Cross borne in the midst of them. They ascend Calvary in the evening twilight.)
Laza.
Pardon me, O Christ,
That I, bewildered with my double life—
My hope and joy, each deep as is the grave,
And melancholy by profundity—
Have strayed from thy dear side at this great hour
Of agony and triumph! Lo, I follow.

[Exit Lazarus.
Judas.
The prayer! the prayer for me, O Lazarus!
The prayer's unfinished, and he's gone! Will no one
Haste after him—or fall at Jesus' feet
And tell the history of my matchless sin,
And that I never thought of death to him—
Never believed in it—I dreamed of nothing
But power's surpassing glory. Give me strength
Ye fibrous trees—thou teeming earth—thou sky,
With all thy mighty shades, that I may leave
This hideousness, and follow him. On! on!
My limbs are cramped—my mouth is full of dust,
Mine eyes spin webs of fire—Oh mercy, Christ!
Mercy! for thou canst hear me from afar—
Hear me scream “Mercy!”
(Distant sounds of the heavy blows of a hammer on Calvary.)
Golgotha replies!
And all the echoes round Mount Calvary!
Can it be! Yes!—they nail him through the hands.
I see the springing blood—it stains the vests
Of those who murder him! He prayeth for them—
Forgiveth them!—me, too, Lord! I have ever
Loved thee—but I grew mad—and now I wake!
How pale he lies!—how patient! Cover me
Ye bloody trees!—ye flapping shadows snatch me
Away into your caverns! Lazarus!
Come back!—will no one hear me!
(Heavy blows of a hammer echo from Calvary.)
Through his feet
The great nail slowly crushes!—pierces down
Into the wood! Oh Pilate, once again—
'Tis not too late—come forth unto the people—
Command all this to cease—this mockery
Tow'rds one who cannot die—and yet he will!
The Son of God will die! Scribes, pharisees!
Thou damned Caiaphas, and all the priests
Thrice cursed of God, come here! come here!
And see your work! Your work and mine!
I meant it not—I never dreamed of this—
Witness ye glaring creatures that whirl round me!
Witness my soul—witness before my God,
For even I, name God,—I must—I must—
And He will be the wise Judge! See your work,
Ye priests and rulers. Oh, I know my share.
Hark! hark!—They raise the Cross!
They bear it to its bed—they drop its foot
Heavily down!—The jar shakes all his frame
With tortures—sickening! Where is Death for me?
Come wrestler—come! take Judas in thine arms,
And win, dark ideot—so shall Judas gain
A hiding place!

(Judas tears out some long trailing thorns and green tendrils, and twisting them about his throat, rushes to a tree, which he ascends. Darkness spreads over the face of the earth.)
Judas.
(From the midst of the tree.)
Mother of all the graves,
Open them all for Judas!
Bid him, O, Mother of Corruption, seek
The lowest, and the darkest! Christ have mercy,
And let him find it! Plunge for ever down!

(Judas springs downwards—the tree falls with a crash, and covers his crushed body with its black foliage. The earth trembles. Graves open,—and pale Forms rise, and gaze around!)