The crowd that filled the tavern, now learning the arrival of Jesus of
Nazareth, urged and pressed each other to go and meet the young master;
mothers, who held their little infants in their arms, endeavored to
arrive the first near Jesus, the infirm, resuming their crutches, begged
their neighbors to open a passage for them. Such was already the
penetrating and charitable influence of the words of the son of Mary,
that the strong moved aside to allow the mothers and the suffering to
approach him.
Jane, Aurelia and her slave shared the general emotion; Genevieve
especially, daughter, wife, and, perhaps, one day a mother of slaves,
experienced an unusual beating of the heart at the sight of him who
came, he said, to announce to the captives their deliverance, and set at
liberty those who were crushed beneath their chains. At length Genevieve
perceived him.
The son of Mary, the friend of little children, of poor mothers, of the
suffering and of slaves, was habited like the other Israelites, his
countrymen; he wore a robe of white cloth, secured round his waist by a
leathern belt from which hung his purse or money-bag; a square mantle of
blue depended from his shoulders.
His long chestnut hair, bright as new-coined gold, fell on each side of
his pale face of an angelic sweetness; his lips and chin were half
shaded by a slight beard, with golden reflections like his hair. His
manner was cordial and familiar; he affectionately shook the hands of
all that were tendered him.
He frequently stooped down to kiss some ragged little children who held
the lappets of his robe, and, smiling ineffably, he said to those who
surrounded him:
'Let the little children approach me.'
Judas, a man with a sinister and deceptive countenance, and Simon, other
disciples of Jesus, accompanied him and carried each of them a box, in
which the son of Mary, after questioning each patient and attentively
listening to his reply, took several medicaments which he gave to the
infirm and to the women who came to consult his science, either for
themselves or for their children.
Frequently, to the balsams and advice he distributed, Jesus added a gift
of money, which he drew from the bag at his girdle; he so often dipped
into this purse, that having a last time plunged in his hand, he smiled
mournfully on finding the little pocket empty. So, after turning all
manner of ways, he made a sign of touching regret, as if to show that he
had nothing to give. Then, those whom he had assisted with his counsels,
his balms, and his money, thanked him warmly; he said to them in his
gentle voice:
''Tis Almighty God, the Father of us all, who is in Heaven, that you
must thank, and not me--peace be with you.'
'If your treasury of money is empty, friend, you have still an
inexhaustible treasure, that of good words,' said Banaias; for he had
contrived to approach quite close to Jesus of Nazareth, and he
contemplated him with a mixture of respect and emotion that made his
ferocious traits forgotten.
'Yes,' replied another; 'tell us, Jesus, of things which we poor and
humble can comprehend, the language of our holy and divine prophet, but
often obscure to us poor people.'
'Oh, yes; our good Jesus,' added a pretty child, who had glided into the
front rank, and held one flap of the robe of the young man of Nazareth,
'recount to us one of those parables that delight us so much, and which
we repeat to our mothers and brothers.'
'No, no,' said other voices; 'before the parable, make one of your noble
discourses against the wicked rich, the powerful and the proud.'
But Mary's son pointed with a smile to the little child who had first
demanded a parable, and took him on his knees, after seating himself
near a table; thus showing his love for infancy. Mary's son seemed to
say that this dear little one should be first satisfied in his desire.
All, then, grouped round Jesus; the children who loved him so sat down
at his feet; Oliba and other courtezans also seated themselves on the
ground in the Eastern fashion, embracing their knees with their hands,
and their eyes fixed on the young man of Nazareth, in anxious
expectation. Banaias, and several of his like, crowding behind the young
man, recommended silence to the eager multitude. Others, lastly, more
distant, such as Jane, Aurelia, and her slave Genevieve, formed a second
rank by mounting on the benches. Jesus, still holding on his knee the
little child, who with one of his tiny arms resting on the shoulder of
the son of Mary, seemed suspended from his lips, commenced the following
parable: 'A man had two sons, and the younger of them said to his
father: 'Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me.' And
the father divided his goods. A short time after, the youngest of the
sons gathered together all he had and went into a distant country and
dissipated his portion. And after he had spent all, a great famine arose
in the land, and he began to be in want. He therefore went into service
with an inhabitant of the country, who sent him into the fields to feed
swine. There he would willingly have filled his belly with the husks the
swine did eat, but no man gave unto him.'
At these words of the parable the child which Mary's son held upon his
knees uttered a deep sigh, joining his little hands in a pitying manner.
Jesus continued:
'At length returning to himself, the prodigal son said, "How many
servants of my father have bread enough and to spare, and I perish of
hunger? I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him: father,
I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to
be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants." And he arose
and went to his father; but when he was yet a great way off, his father
perceived him, and moved with compassion, he ran to him and fell on his
neck and kissed him.
'And his son said to him: "My father, I have sinned against heaven and
in thy sight, I am no more worthy to be called thy son."
'But the father said to his servants:
"Bring forth the best robe and put it on him; and put a ring on his
finger and shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf and kill
it; and let us eat and be merry; for this my son was dead, and is alive
again; he was lost, and is found."
'Oh! the kind father!' said the child on the knees of Jesus. Oh! the
good and tender father, who pardons and embraces instead of scolding!'
Jesus smiled, kissed the child's forehead, and continued:
'And they began to be merry. But the elder brother, who was in the field
returned, and when he came near the house, he heard music and dancing.
He therefore called one of the servants, and asked what all this meant.
The servant replied to him:
"Thy brother is come, and thy father hath killed the fatted calf,
because he hath found him safe and sound;" which made the elder brother
angry, and he would not go in; therefore his father came out and
entreated him. But his son replied to him: "These many years have I
served thee, neither have I at any time transgressed thy command; and
yet thou never gavest me a kid that I might make merry with my friends.
But as soon as this, thy son, who has squandered his living with
harlots, is returned, thou hast had the fatted calf killed for him."'
'Oh! how wicked is the eldest son!' said the child; 'he is jealous of
his poor brother, who returns, however, very unhappy to the house. God
will not love this jealous son; will he, my good Jesus?'
Mary's son shook his head, as if to reply to the child that the Lord did
not indeed love the jealous: he then continued,--
'But the father said to the son: "My son, thou art always with me, and
all that I have is thine; it was fit that we should make merry and be
glad; for this, thy brother, was dead, and is alive again; was lost, and
is found."'
All who were present seemed moved to tears at this recital. Mary's son
having stopped to drink a glass of wine, which Judas, his disciple,
poured out for him, Banaias, who had listened to him with profound
attention, exclaimed: 'Friend, do you know that this is very much my own
history, and that of many others. For if, after my own first folly of
youth, my father had imitated the father in your parable, and had
tendered me his hand as a sign of pardon, instead of driving me from the
house with his stick, I should be at this hour, perhaps, seated at my
honest fireside, in the midst of my family; whereas, now my home is in
the highway, misery my wife, and my children evil projects, sons of
misery, that mother with the ferocious eye. Ah! why had I not for a
father the man in the parable?'
'This indulgent father pardoned,' replied Oliba the courtezan, 'because
he knew that God, having given youth to his creatures, sometimes abuse
it; but those who, reviled, miserable and repentant, return humbly to
demand the smallest place in the paternal mansion, these, far from being
repulsed, ought they not to be received with pity?'
'I,' said another, 'would not give a grapestone for this elder brother,
this man of wealth, so harsh, so coarse, and so jealous, to whom virtue
costs nothing.'
Genevieve heard one of the two emissaries of the Pharisees say to his
companion, 'The Nazarene pretty well flatters the bad passions of these
vagabonds. Henceforth, every debauched idler who may quit the paternal
mansion will think himself entitled to send his father to Beelzebub, if
the father, wrongly advised, instead of killing the fatted calf, drives
from him, as he ought, this villainous son, whom hunger alone brings
back to the fold.'
'Yes; and all the honest and prudent will pass for men of hard heart and
jealous.'
And the man resumed aloud, thinking that no one would know who it was
that thus spoke: 'Glory to thee, Jesus of Nazareth, glory to thee, the
protector, the defender of us dissipaters and prostitutes! It is folly
to be wise and virtuous, since the fatted calf is to be killed for the
most debauched.'
Loud murmurs acknowledged these words of the emissary of the Pharisees;
all turned round whence they had been pronounced; threats were heard:
'Hence! away with these men of inexorable heart!'
'Oh! these men are without pity, without mercy, repentance does not
touch them,' said the courtezan Oliba; 'these frozen bodies who cannot
comprehend that with others the blood boils!'
'Let him who has thus spoken show himself,' exclaimed Banaias, striking
the table with his heavy, knotted stick in a threatening manner, 'yes,
let him show his virtuous face, the scrupulous! more severe than our
friend of Nazareth, the brother of the poor, the afflicted, and the
suffering, whom he supports, heals and consoles! By the eye of
Jerobabel! I should like to look him in the face, this white lamb
without spot, who comes here to bleat his virtues. Where is he, then,
this immaculate lily of the valley of men? He must smell of good, like a
real balm,' added Banaias, opening his wide nostrils; 'and by the nose
of Malachi! I don't smell at all this aroma of wisdom, this perfume of
honesty, which ought to betray the choice odoriferous vase hidden
amongst us poor sinners.'
This pleasantry of Banaias made the auditory laugh excessively; and the
one of the two emissaries who had thus attacked the words of Jesus,
seemed in no hurry to gratify the desire of the redoubtable friend of
the Nazarene; he feigned, on the contrary, as well as his companion, to
search, like the rest of the audience, from whence the words had
proceeded. The tumult was increasing, when the young Nazarene made a
sign that he wished to speak; the tempest was appeased as if by
enchantment; and replying to the reproach of being too indulgent to
sinners, Jesus said with an accent of severe mildness: 'Who amongst you
possessing a hundred sheep, and losing one, would not leave in the plain
the ninety-and-nine others, to go and seek that which is lost, until he
had found it? When he has found it he brings it back with joy on his
shoulders; and having returned to his house, he assembles his friends
and neighbors, and says to them, "Rejoice with me, because I have found
my sheep that was lost."'
'And I say unto you,' added Mary's son in a voice filled with grave and
tender authority, 'and I say unto you there shall be more joy in heaven
for one sinner that repenteth, than for the ninety-and-nine just men,
who need no repentance.'--These touching words of Jesus made a lively
impression on the crowd; it applauded in words and gestures.--'Reply to
that, my white lamb! my lilly without a stain!' said Banaias, addressing
the invisible interpreter of the Nazarene.
'If you are not of the same opinion as my friend, approach and maintain
your words.'
'A grand merit, as Jesus says,' observed another; 'a grand merit for him
who has neither hunger nor thirst, to be neither a glutton nor a
drunkard!'
'Virtue is easy to her who has every thing,' said the courtezan Oliba,
'hunger and privation ruin more women than dissipation.'
Suddenly there was a tumult amongst the crowd that filled the tavern,
and the name of Magdalen was heard pronounced.
'She is one of the creatures who make a traffic of their bodies,' said
Jane to Aurelia; 'it is not misery that has thrown her, like so many
others, into this degradation; but a first fault, followed by the
desertion of him who seduced her, and whom she adored. Since then,
despite the disorders of her life and the venality of her amours,
Magdalen has proved that her heart is not entirely corrupted. The poor
never beseech her in vain, and she has passionately loved some men with
a love as devoted as it was disinterested, sacrificing to them high
priests, doctors of the law and rich seigneurs, who rivalled each other
in their gifts; my husband, with others, was amongst the number of these
magnificent lovers.'
'He has expended upon Magdalen a great deal of money; she is so
handsome,' continued the young woman, with an indulgent smile. 'He is
one of those who have enriched her. They tell wonders about her house,
or rather the palace she inhabits; her coffers are filled with the
rarest stuffs and the most dazzling jewels. Vases of gold and silver,
brought at great expense from Rome, Asia, and Greece, encumber her
sideboards; the purple and silk from Tyre adorn the walls of her
dwelling, and her attendants are as numerous as those of a princess.'
'We, too, have in Italy and Roman Gaul, some of these creatures, whose
insolent luxury insults the moderate fortune of many honest women,'
replied Aurelia. 'But what can this Magdalen want with the young
Nazarene?'
'No doubt she comes, like many of the same sort whom you see here, less
rich than her, but not less degraded, to hear the words of Jesus; those
gentle and tender words that penetrate the heart by the mercy they
breathe, softens it, and makes it bring forth repentance.'
'Here!' said several voices: 'room for Magdalen, the handsomest amongst
the handsomest!'
'The queen of us all!' said Oliba's companion to her with a lofty air:
'for indeed Magdalen is the queen of us all!'
'A sad royalty!' replied Oliba, sighing: 'her shame is seen from the
highest to the most distant!'
'But she is so rich! so rich!'
'To sell oneself for a penny, or a mountain of gold,' replied the poor
courtezan, 'where is the difference? the ignominy is the same!'
'Oliba, you are getting completely mad!'
The young woman made no reply, but sighed. Genevieve, mounted, like her
mistress, on a stool, raised herself on the points of her toes, and soon
saw the celebrated courtezan enter the tavern.
Magdalen was possessed of a rare beauty; the chin-piece of her turban of
white silk edged with gold, encased her pale and swarthy face of an
admirable perfection; her long eye-brows, as black as ebony, like the
bands of her hair, appeared as a dark line along the brow hitherto
superb and brazen; but now, mournful and depressed, for she seemed
completely heart-broken. The ends of her eye-lashes, stained with a blue
color according to the oriental fashion, gave to her eyes, drowned in
tears, something strange, and seemed to double the grandeur of her orbs,
sparkling through her tears like two diamonds.
A long robe of Tyrian silk of shaded blue, edged with gold and
embroidered with pearls, fell in a long train behind her, and round her
waist she had a flowing scarf of cloth of gold covered with stones of
many colors, like those of the double necklaces, ear-rings and
bracelets, with which her bare and well-shaped arms were covered; and
thus attired, holding in her hands an urn of pink alabaster from
Chaldea, more precious than gold, she advanced quite slowly towards the
young man of Nazareth.
'What a change in Magdalen's traits,' said Jane to Aurelia. 'I have seen
her pass a hundred times in her litter, carried by her attendants,
dressed in rich liveries; the triumph of beauty, and the intoxication
and joy of youth could be read in her countenance. And she is timidly
approaching Jesus, humble, oppressed, weeping, and more sorrowful than
the saddest of the poor women who hold in their arms their ill-clad
infants.
'But what is she about?' inquired Aurelia, more and more attentive; 'she
stands before the young man of Nazareth; in one hand she holds her
alabaster urn pressed against her agitated bosom, whilst with the other
she detaches her rich turban. She throws it far from her. Her thick and
glossy tresses fall over her breast and shoulders, unroll themselves
like a velvet mantle and even trail on the ground.'
'Oh! look! look! her tears redouble,' said Jane; 'her face is drowned in
them.'
'She kneels at the feet of Jesus,' continued Aurelia, 'and covers them
with tears and kisses.'
'What heart-rending sobs!'
'And the tears she sheds on the feet of Mary's son she wipes away with
her long hair.'
'And now, still melting in tears, she takes her alabaster urn and
empties over the feet of Jesus a delicious perfume, the scent of which
reaches here.'
'The young master endeavors to raise her; she resists; she cannot speak;
her sobs break her voice; she bends down her lovely head to the very
ground.'
Then Jesus, who could scarcely restrain his emotion, turned towards
Simon, one of his disciples, and addressing him: 'Simon, I have
something to say to you.'
'Speak, master.'
'A creditor had two debtors; the one owned him five hundred pence, the
other fifty. As they had not wherewith to pay him, he remitted to both
their debt; tell me, then, which of these two should love him most?'
Simon replied: 'Master, I think it should be he to whom he forgave the
most.'
'Thou hast judged rightly, Simon.' And, turning to the rich courtezan
still kneeling, Jesus said to those present: 'Do you see this woman? I
declare to you that her many sins are forgiven her, because she loved
much!' He then said to Magdalen, in a voice full of tenderness and
pardon: 'Thy sins are forgiven thee--thy faith hath saved thee; go in
peace.'
'Abomination of desolation!' said the emissary of the pharisees half
aloud to his companion: 'can audacity and demoralization go further?
Why, the Nazarene pardons all that is blameable, relieves all that is
vile; after reinstating dissipation and prodigality, behold him now
reinstating the most notorious courtezans.'
'And why?' said the other emissary, 'that he may still flatter the vices
and detestable passions of the wretches he draws round him, whom he will
one day make his instruments.'
'But patience,' observed the first, 'patience, Nazarene, thy hour
approaches; thy still increasing audacity will soon draw down upon thee
a terrible punishment!'
Whilst Genevieve listened to the two wicked men thus conversing, she saw
Magdalen, after the affectionate words of Jesus, rise up radiant; the
tears chased each other down her handsome face, but these tears no
longer seemed bitter. She distributed to all the poor women who
surrounded her, her precious stones and jewels, unfastened even to the
magnificent robe she wore over her tunic of fine cloth from Sidonia, and
put on the mantel of coarse brown wool of a young woman to whom she gave
in exchange a rich robe embroidered with pearls of great value. She then
said to Simon, that she would not again quit these humble garments, and
that on the morrow all her wealth should be distributed to poor
families, and to the courtezans whom misery alone prevented returning to
a better life.
At these words Oliba, joining her hands in a burst of gratitude, threw
herself at the feet of Magdalen, took her hands, kissed them whilst
sobbing and said to her--
'Blessed be thou, Magdalen! oh, blessed be thou! Thy bounty hath saved
me, me and so many of my poor companions of shame; but we repented at
the voice of the son of Mary; that voice penetrated our hearts; we hoped
for pardon. But, alas! the necessity of living retained us in wickedness
and contempt. Blessed be thou, Magdalen, thou who renderest possible our
return to good.'
'Sister, it is not I you must bless,' replied Magdalen; ''tis Jesus of
Nazareth; his words inspired me.'
And Magdalen mingled amongst the crowd to listen to the words of the
young master.
Some of his disciples having said in speaking to him of Magdalen, that
she had been seduced and then abandoned by a young doctor of the law,
the figure of Jesus became grave, severe, and almost menacing, and he
exclaimed---
'Woe to you, doctors of the law! Woe to you, hypocrites! You are like
unto whitened sepulchres; the outside appears gay, but within all is
bones and putridity. Thus, outwardly you appear just in the eyes of men,
but inwardly you are full of iniquity and hypocrisy. Woe to you blind
leaders who take great care as to what you drink, lest you should
swallow a camel.'
This familiar satire made several of the auditory smile, and Banaias
exclaimed---
'Oh, but you are right, my friend. How many of these swallowers of
camels we know. But such is the sharpness of their conscience that they
digest these camels as the ostrich digests a stone, and nothing appears
of it.'
Fresh bursts of applause replied to the pleasantry of Banaias, and Jesus
resumed:
'Woe to you, Pharisees! woe to you who cleanse the outside of the cup
while within it is all rapine and impurity.'
'It is true,' replied several voices; 'these hypocrites clean the
outside because the outside alone is seen.'
The son of Mary continued:
'Woe to you, Pharisees! who preach what you ought to do, but do it not!
Woe to you who make heavy and insupportable burthens, place them on the
shoulders of men, but will not touch them with your finger.'
This new comparison struck the mind of the auditors of the young master,
and several voices again exclaimed:
'Yes, yes, these idle hypocrites say to the humble, "Work is holy; work,
work, but we will not work. Yes, bear alone the burthen of the labor,
but we rich will not touch it with the end of our finger."'
Jesus continued:--
'Woe to you who do all your actions that you might be seen of men. It is
for this that you carry long bands of parchment, on which are written
the words of the law, which you do not practice. Woe to you who say, "If
a man swears by the temple it is nothing, but if he swears by the gold
of the Temple, he is bound by his oath."'
'Because for these rich wicked ones,' said a voice, 'nothing is sound
but gold. They swear by their gold as others swear by their soul or by
their honor.'
'So that if a man swears by the altar it is nothing,' pursued Jesus;
'but whoever swears by the offering that is on the altar, he is bound by
his oath. Woe to you, hypocrites! who pay scrupulously the tenth, but
who deny that which is more important in the law, justice, mercy, and
good faith. These were the things you should practice, without omitting
the others.'
'By the two thumbs of Methusalem!' exclaimed Banaias, laughing, 'you
appear at ease, friend. As these hypocrites have in their coffers enough
to pay the tithe without inconveniencing themselves, and they pay it;
but where would you have them find this money of justice, of good faith,
and of mercy, which you demand from these whitened sepulchres, from
these swallowers of camels of iniquity, as you will so call them?'
'Alas! the young master says true,' observed another; 'for him who has
no money justice is deaf. The doctors of the law do not say to you at
their court, "What good grounds have you? but, how much money will you
promise me?"'
'I had confided a few savings to Jonas, a high priest,' said a poor old
woman; 'he told me he had expended the money in offerings for my
salvation. What could I do, a poor woman against so powerful a seigneur?
resign myself and beg for bread, which I do not find every day.'
At this complaint, Jesus exclaimed with increased indignation, 'Oh! woe
to you hypocrites: because, under pretence of your long prayers you rob
the widow of her mite. Woe to you, serpents, race of vipers! how will
you escape being condemned to the fire of hell? It is for this I will
send to you prophets and sages to save you.'
'But, alas!' added the son of Mary with an accent of much sorrow, 'you
will kill the former; you would crucify the latter; you would persecute
them from town to town, that all the innocent blood that has been shed
upon the earth may return upon you--from the blood of Abel the just to
the blood of Zachariah, whom you killed between the Temple and the
altar!'
'Oh! fear nothing, friend! if these swallowers of camels wish to shed
your blood,' exclaimed Banaias, striking the hilt of his large rusty
cutlass, 'they must first shed ours, and we await them.'
'Yes, yes,' replied the crowd, in one voice, 'fear nothing, Jesus of
Nazareth, we will defend thee!'
'We will die for thee if necessary!'
'You shall be our chief!'
'Our king!'
But the son of Mary, as if he mistrusted these transports, shook his
head with a sadness more and more profound; tears streamed down his
cheek, and he exclaimed, in a disconsolate voice:
'Oh! Jerusalem! Jerusalem! thou who killed the prophets! thou who stone
the wise men that are sent to thee! how often have I striven to assemble
thy children, as a hen gathers together her little ones beneath her
wings, and thou would'st not; no, thou would'st not!'
And the accent of Jesus, at first cutting, severe, or indignant, in
speaking of the hypocritical pharisees, was impressed with a regret so
bitter, in pronouncing these last words, that nearly all shed tears like
the young man of Nazareth; presently there was a complete silence, for
he was seen to lean upon the table and bury his face in his hands.
Genevieve could no longer restrain her tears; she heard one of the two
emissaries say to his companion, in a tone of cruel triumph: 'The
Nazarene called the doctors of law and the high-priest serpents and a
race of vipers! During the whole night he has blasphemed all that is
most sacred amongst men; we have him.'
'Oh, you speak of the crucified, Jesus of Nazareth,' said the other; 'we
will take care that you shall not be far wrong, prophet of woe!'
Simon, seeing him still leaning on the table, weeping in silence,
stooped towards him and said: 'Master, the sun will soon rise; the
people of the fields, who bring their fruits to the market of Jerusalem,
pass by the valley of Cedron; like us, they are eager to hear your
words: they await you on the road: shall we not go and meet them?'
Jesus rose; his sad and pensive features cleared up on kissing the
children, who seeing him preparing to leave, extended their little hands
to him.--He then fraternally shook hands with all who offered them, and
leaving the tavern of the 'Wild Ass' situated near one of the gates of
the town leading into the country, he directed his steps towards the
valley of Cedron, which the countrymen and women traversed to repair to
Jerusalem, where they brought their provisions. Such was the attraction
of the words of the young man of Nazareth, that most of the persons who
came to pass the night in listening to him, still followed him.
Magdalen, Oliba and Banaias were amongst these individuals.
'Jane, will you also go out of the town?' said Aurelia to Chusa's wife:
'it is now daylight; let us return home; it will be imprudent to prolong
our absence.'
'I shall not return yet; I will follow Jesus to the end of the world,'
replied Jane with exultation, and descending from her bench, she drew
from her pocket a heavy purse filled with gold, which she placed in
Simon's hand, at the moment he was about to quit the tavern after
Mary's son.
'The young man has emptied his purse to-night,' said Jane to Simon,
'here is something to re-fill it.'
'You, lady, again!' replied Simon with thankfulness, at the sight of
Jane: 'your charity does not flag.'
''Tis the tenderness of your master that does not flag in succoring
people, consoling the poor, the repentant, and the oppressed,' replied
the wife of Chusa.
Genevieve, who had anxiously listened to every word that had fallen from
the emissaries of the pharisees, heard one of the two men say to the
other:
'Follow and watch the Nazarene; I will run to the Seigneurs Caiphus and
Baruch to render them an account of the abominable blasphemies and
impieties he has uttered to-night in company with these vagabonds. The
Nazarene must not this time escape the fate that awaits him;' and the
two men separated. Aurelia, who seemed to have been reflecting, said to
her companion: 'Jane, I cannot express to you what I experience from the
words of this young man. At one time so simple, tender and elevated, at
another satirical and threatening, they penetrate my heart. They are, to
my mind, like a new world that is opening; for to us, poor heathens, the
word charity is new. Far from being appeased, my curiosity, my interest,
increase, and whatever may happen, I will follow you; what matter, after
all, if we do return to our dwellings after daybreak?'
Hearing her mistress thus speak, Genevieve was very happy, for thinking
of her brother slaves of Gaul, she, too, felt a great desire to hear
more of the words of the young Nazarene, the friend and liberator of
captives. At the moment of quitting the tavern with her mistress and
the charitable wife of the seigneur Chusa, Genevieve was the witness of
a scene that proved to her how speedily the word of Jesus had borne its
fruit. Magdalen, the handsome, repentant courtezan, habited in the old
woollen mantle of a poor woman, exchanged for such rich attire,
Magdalen, following the anxious crowd behind Jesus, struck her foot
against a stone in the street, tottered, and would have fallen to the
ground but for the assistance of Jane and Aurelia, who, fortunately,
being close to her, hastened to support her.
'What! you, Jane, the wife of the Seigneur Chusa?' said the courtezan,
reddening with confusion, thinking, no doubt, of the rich presents she
had received from Chusa: 'you, Jane, you have no fear in tendering me a
helping hand; I, a poor creature justly despised by all honest women?'
'Magdalen,' replied Jane with charming kindness: 'did not our young
master tell you to go in peace, and that all your sins would be remitted
you, because you have loved much? By what right should I be more severe
than Jesus of Nazareth? Your hand, Magdalen, your hand; 'tis a sister
who asks it of you as a sign of pardon and oblivion of the past!'
Magdalen took the hand that Jane offered her, but it was to kiss it with
respect, and cover it with tears of repentance.
'Ah! Jane,' said quietly to her friend Genevieve's mistress; 'the young
man of Nazareth would be gratified to see you practice his precepts so
generously.'
Jane, Aurelia and Magdalen, following the crowd, were soon outside of
the gates of Jerusalem.
The sun, now rising in its splendor, illumined to a great distance the
country of the valley of Cedron, whose oriental aspect, so new to
Genevieve, always struck her with surprise and admiration. It being the
season of spring, early this year, the plains which extended to the
gates of Jerusalem were as verdant and as florid as those of Saron,
which Genevieve had traversed when coming from Jaffa (the place where
she had landed) to reach Jerusalem with her mistress. The white and red
roses, the narcissus, the anemony, the yellow gilly-flowers, and the
odiferous immortelles (or everlasting flowers) embalmed the air and
enamelled the fields with their beautiful colors, still moist with the
dew.
On the road-side, a cluster of palm trees shaded the dome of a fountain,
where already came to drink the large fat buffaloes, coupled to their
yoke, and conducted by laborers habited in a robe of camel skin.
Shepherds also brought to the fountain their flocks of goats with long
ears, and sheep with immense tails, whilst young women of swarthy
complexion, dressed in white, arrived no doubt from a village seen at a
short distance, half hidden by a wood of olive trees, drew water from
the fountain and returned to the village, carrying on their head, half
enveloped in their white veils, large flasks of spring water. Farther
on, along the dusky road which serpentined in a descent from the highest
peaks of the mountains, whose summits were slowly disengaging themselves
from the gray blue vapors of the morning, was seen advancing, at a
snail's pace, a long caravan, which rose above the elongated necks of
the camels loaded with bales.
All along the road, followed by Genevieve, blue pigeons, larks and
wagtails, nesting in the groves of nopal and fir, made a chorus of sweet
songs, whilst a white stork, with red legs, rose in the air holding a
snake in his beak.
Several herdsmen and laborers, learning from the persons who followed
the Nazarene, that he was repairing to the little hill of Cedron to
preach good news, changed their route, and driving their flocks on one
side, augmented the crowd attached to the steps of Jesus of Nazareth.
Jane, Aurelia and Genevieve thus approached the village, half hidden in
the wood of olive trees through which they had to pass to arrive at the
hill. On a sudden from this wood, they saw issue in a tumult a great
number of men and women, uttering cries and horrid imprecations.
At the head of this troop marched the doctors of the law and the high
priests; two of the latter were leading a handsome young girl, with
naked arms and feet, barely attired in a tunic. Shame and terror were
painted on her countenance bathed in tears; her scattered hair covered
her naked shoulders.
From time to time, demanding grace through her sobs, she threw herself,
in her despair, on her knees upon the stones in the road, despite the
efforts of the two priests, who, each holding her by an arm and thus
dragging her through the dust, soon forced her to rise and walk with
them. The crowd overwhelmed with hootings, imprecations and insults this
unfortunate girl, as terrified as a woman being led to execution.
At sight of this tumult the son of Mary, surprised, stopped; those who
accompanied him also stopped, and ranged themselves in a circle behind
him.
The priests and the doctors of the law, no doubt recognizing the young
man of Nazareth, made a sign to the people of the village, from whom the
cries and fury redoubled every moment, to stop a few paces distant. Then
those wrathful people, men and women, picked up large stones, with which
they remained armed, from time to time insulting and threatening the
weeping prisoner.
The priests and doctors of the law, to whom the emissaries of the
pharisees had gone to speak in secret, dragged the unfortunate creature
to the feet of Jesus, whom she also began to implore in her terror,
raising towards him her face bathed in tears, and her maimed hands
covered with blood and dust. One of the priests then said to Jesus, to
prove him, and in the hope of destroying him if he did not pronounce
with them.
'This woman has just been taken in the act of adultery. Now, Moses has
ordered us in the law to stone the adulteress. What is your opinion
thereon?'
Jesus, instead of replying, stooped down and began to write on the sand
with the end of his finger. And as the pharisees, astonished, continued
to question him, he rose up and said to them as also to those of the
crowd, who had armed themselves with stones,
'Let him amongst you who is without sin, throw the first stone at this
woman.'
Then, again stooping, he once more commenced writing on the sand without
noticing those around him.
At the words of Mary's son, immense applause burst from the crowd that
followed him, and Banaias exclaimed with loud laughter:
'Well spoken, friend. I am no prophet; but if pure hands are alone to
stone this poor sinner, I swear by the head of Gideon that we shall see
all these paragons of virtue, all these pearls of chastity, all these
angels of modesty, beginning with the seigneurs priests, and the
seigneurs doctors in law, throw away their sandals and tuck up their
robes that they may run the quicker. Oh! what was I saying?' added
Banaias, laughing still more loudly, like many others, 'there they are,
dispersing like a herd of swine pursued by a wolf.'
'And swine they are!' said another.
'As to the wolf following them, 'tis their own conscience.'
And as Banaias said, at these words of Jesus, 'Let him amongst you who
is without sin throw the first stone at this woman,' the doctors of the
law and the priests, no doubt accused by their conscience, as well as
those who at first would have stoned the adulterous woman, all in fact
fearing, perhaps, the crowd that followed the young man of Nazareth,
made their escape so swiftly and so quickly, that when the son of Mary
rose (for he had continued to write on the sand), the crowd lately so
menacing were fleeing toward the village. Jesus now saw none but the
accused, still kneeling, still a supplicant, and weeping at his feet.
Smiling sweetly, showing to her the space left around her by the
dispersion of those who would have lately stoned her, Jesus said to
her:
'Woman, where, then, are thy accusers? Has no one accused thee?'
'No, lord,' she replied, weeping bitterly.
'Neither will I condemn thee,' said Jesus. 'Go, and sin no more.'
And leaving the adulterous woman on her knees, and still under the shock
of having been thus saved from death and pardoned, the son of Mary soon
arrived, followed by his disciples and the crowd, to the foot of a
mount, where already were assembled a good number of country people
impatiently awaiting his coming, some having their provisions on donkeys
or zebras, others in carts drawn by bullocks, others in wicker baskets,
which they carried on their heads.
The shepherds who, at the passage of the Nazarene, watered their flocks
at the fountain, also arrived; and when all this crowd, silent and
attentive, was thus assembled at the foot of the mount, Jesus of
Nazareth ascended the little hill, that he might be better heard by all.
The rising sun, shedding its lustrous beams on the figure of the son of
Mary, attired in his white tunic and his blue mantle, made his celestial
visage to appear resplendent, and casting its rays on his long chestnut
hair, seemed to encircle it in a golden aureole. Then addressing these
simple in heart, whom he loved equally with the little children, Jesus
said to them, in his tender and sonorous voice:
'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs!
'Blessed are those who are gentle, because they possess the earth!
'Blessed are those who weep, for they are consoled!
'Blessed are those who show mercy, for they will obtain mercy for
themselves!
'Blessed are those who are pure in heart, for they will see God!
'Blessed are the peaceful, for they shall be called peaceful!
'Blessed are they who suffer persecution for justice's sake, for the
kingdom of heaven is theirs!
'But woe to you, rich, for you would take away your consolation!
'Woe to you who are satisfied, for you shall be hungry!
'Woe to you who laugh now, for you shall weep hereafter!
'Woe to you when men shall speak well of you, for their fathers spoke
well of the false prophets!
'Love your neighbor as yourself!
'Beware how you make your gifts before men, to attract their notice!
'When, therefore, thou dost give thy charity, sound not the trumpet
before you, as do the hypocrites in the temples and in the streets, to
be honored by men; for I tell you the truth, they have already had their
reward.
'Thus, I was seated the other day in the synagogue, opposite the poor
box, observing in what manner the people threw in their money; many rich
people dropped in a great deal; there came a poor woman, she placed
simply in the box two small pieces, which made the quarter of a penny.
Calling my disciples, I said to them: "Really this poor woman has given
more than all those who dropped into the box, for all the others have
given of their abundance; but this one has given of her indigence, all
that she had, and all that remained to her to live upon." When you
bestow charity, let not your left hand know what your right hand does.
The same when you pray, resemble not those hypocrites who affect to pray
in the synagogues, and in the corner of public places, that they might
be seen of men. For you, when you would pray, enter your own chamber,
close the door, and pray to your father in secret. When you fast, do it
not with a saddened air like the hypocrites, for they appear with a pale
and haggard face, that men may know that they fast. You, when you fast,
perfume your head that it may not appear to men that you fast, but
simply to your father, who is always present in all that is most secret.
Above all, do not act like the two men in the parable:
'Two men went into the temple to pray, the one was a publican, the other
a pharisee. The pharisee, standing up, thus prayed to himself: "My God,
I thank thee for that I am not as other men, who are thieves, unjust,
adulterers, who indeed are like the publican I see there. I fast twice a
week, and I give the tenth of all I possess."
'The publican, on the contrary, keeping himself afar off, dared not even
lift up his eyes to heaven, but struck his breast, saying:
"My God, have pity on me, who am a sinner!"
'I declare to you this man returneth home justified, and not the other.
For he who exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he who humbleth
himself shall be exalted. Heap not up treasures on earth, for the worm
and the rust shall consume them, and thieves shall break in and steal
them; but make to yourselves treasures in heaven, for where your
treasure is there also will be your heart! Do unto men as you would they
should do unto you: this is the law and the prophets.
'Love your enemies, do good to those that hate you.
'If any one takes from you your mantle, let him also take your coat.
'Give to all who ask of you.
'Claim not your goods of him who takes them away.
'Let him who has two garments give one to him who has none.
'Let him who has enough to eat do the same.
'For when the day of judgment comes, God will say to those who are on
his left:
"Far from me, cursed! go into the fire eternal! for I was hungry and ye
gave me not to eat! I was thirsty, and ye gave me not to drink! I was in
want of lodging, and you did not lodge me! I was without garments, and
you did not clothe me! I was sick and in prison, and you did not visit
me!" And then the wicked will reply to the Almighty:
"Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty? or without garments? or
without lodging? or in prison?"
But the Almighty will reply to them:
"I say unto you that as often as you have failed to render these
services to one of the poorest among men, you have failed to render them
to myself, your Lord God."
To the great chagrin of the crowd, much affected by the divine words of
the son of Mary, who could comprehend the poorest in mind, as the young
Nazarene said, his discourse was interrupted in consequence of a violent
tumult that arose. The cause was this; a troop of men on horseback,
coming from the mountains, travelling rapidly towards Jerusalem, was
obliged to stop before the vast assemblage grouped at the base of the
mount where Christ was preaching. These cavaliers, in their impatience,
brutally desired the crowd to disperse, and to make room for the
Seigneur Chusa, the steward of Prince Herod's household, and for the
Seigneur Gremion, an agent of the Roman treasury.
On hearing these words Aurelia, wife of Gremion, turned pale and said to
Jane:
'Our husbands! already returned! they have turned back; they will find
us absent from our homes; they will know that we have left them since
yesterday; we are lost.'
'Have we, then, anything to reproach ourselves with?' replied Jane:
'Have we not been listening to teachings, and assisting at examples
which renders good hearts still better?'
'Dear mistress,' said Genevieve to Aurelia, 'I think that the Seigneur
Gremion has recognized you from his horse, for he is speaking quietly to
the Seigneur Chusa, and is pointing his finger this way.'
'Ah! I tremble!' replied Aurelia, 'what's to be done? What will become
of me? Oh! cursed be my curiosity!'
'Blessed, on the contrary,' said Jane to her; 'for you carry away
treasures in your heart. Let us go boldly and meet our husbands; 'tis
the wicked who hide themselves and bow their heads. Come, Aurelia, come,
and let us walk home with a firm front.'
At this moment, Magdalen the repentant, approached the two young women,
and said to Jane, with tears in her eyes:
'Adieu, you who tendered me a hand when I had fallen into contempt; your
remembrance will be always present to Magdalen in her future solitude.'
'Of what solitude do you speak?' said Jane, surprised: 'where are you
going, then, Mary Magdalen?'
'To the desert!' replied the penitent, stretching her arms towards the
summit of the arid mountains beyond which extend the desolate solitudes
of the dead sea:
'I go to the desert to weep for my sins, bearing in my heart a treasure
of hope! Blessed be the son of Mary, to whom I am indebted for this
divine treasure!'
The crowd, opening respectfully before this great repentant, she slowly
retired towards the mountains. Scarcely had Magdalen disappeared, when
Jane, leading her friend almost in spite of herself, advanced towards
the cavaliers through the people, irritated at the coarse words of the
escort.
They abhorred Herod, the prince of Judea, who would have been driven
from the throne but for the protection of the Romans. He was cruel,
dissolute, and crushed the Jewish people with taxes; thus, when they
learnt that one of the cavaliers was the Seigneur Chusa, steward of this
execrated prince, the hatred they felt for the master was visited on the
steward as also on his companion, the Seigneur Gremion, who in the name
of the Roman tax-gatherer, gleaned where Herod had reaped. Thus, whilst
Jane, Aurelia, and the slave Genevieve painfully traversed the crowd to
reach the two cavaliers, hootings burst from all sides against Chusa and
Gremion, and they listened, trembling with rage, to words such as the
following, the faint echo of the anathemas of the young master against
the wicked:
'Woe to you, Herod's steward! who crush us with taxes, and eat up the
house of the widow and the orphan!
'Woe to you, too, Roman! who also come to take a part in robbing us!'
Banaias, with one hand waiving his cutlass in a threatening and
ferocious manner, approached the two seigneurs, and, showing his fist to
them, exclaimed:
'The fox is cowardly and cruel! but he has called to his aid the wolf,
whose teeth are longer, and whose strength is greater! The fox, cowardly
and cruel, is your master Herod, Seigneur Chusa! and the ferocious wolf,
is Tiberius, your own master, Roman! who helps the fox in hunting the
game!'
And as the Seigneur Chusa, pale with rage, was about to draw his sword
to strike Banaias, the latter raised his cutlass, and exclaimed:
'By the belly of Goliath! I will cut you in two like a water melon, if
you put a hand on your sword!'
The two seigneurs, having only five or six men as an escort, restrained
themselves, from a fear of being stoned by the enraged people, and
endeavored to sneak out of the crowd, which, more and more enraged,
exclaimed:
'Yes, woe to you! tax-gatherers of Herod and Tiberius! Woe to you! for
we are hungry; and the bread moistened with our sweat, which we carry to
our lips, you snatch it from our hands in the name of taxes!
'Woe to you! for instead of pardoning misery you overwhelm with miseries
people without defence! Woe to you, but happiness to us, for the day of
justice approaches, the young man of Nazareth has said so. Yes, yes,
for you wicked and oppressors, there will soon be weeping and gnashing
of teeth, and then the last shall be first, and the first shall be
last.'
Chusa and Gremion, more and more alarmed, consulted each other by a
look, not knowing how to escape this menacing crowd. The most
threatening already began to pick up large stones at the voice of
Banaias, who had exclaimed on replacing his cutlass at his belt, and
arming himself with a large stone:
'Our master said this morning, speaking of the poor girl whom these
hypocritical pharisees would have stoned, 'Let him who is without sin
throw the first stone.' And I, my friends, say this to you--
'Let him who has been flayed by the tax-gatherer throw the first stone
at these flayers! and may it be followed by many another!'
'Yes, yes!' cried the crowd, 'Let them disappear under a mountain of
stones.'
'Let us stone them!'
'To the stones! to the stones!'
'Our husbands are exposed to danger, 'tis another reason why we should
approach them,' said Jane to Aurelia, redoubling her efforts in order to
reach the cavaliers, more and more surrounded.
Suddenly was heard the gentle and penetrating voice of the Nazarene
dominating the tumult and pronouncing these words--
'In verity, I say unto you, if these men have sinned, can they not
repent between this and the day of judgment? Let them sin no more but go
in peace.'
At these words of Mary's son, the popular tempest was appeased as if by
enchantment. The crowd was calmed, became silent, and by a spontaneous
movement, turned aside to make room for the cavaliers and their escort.
Then Jane and Aurelia contrived to reach their husbands. At the sight of
his wife, Seigneur Gremion said to Chusa in an angry manner:
'I was sure of it! I had recognized my wife!'
'And mine also accompanies her!' said Chusa, not less enraged.
'And like her, under a disguise. 'Tis the abomination of desolation.'
'Nothing is wanting to the fete,' added Gremion, 'for here is my wife's
slave.'
Jane, always gentle and calm, said to her husband:
'Seigneur, give me a place; I will mount on behind on your horse to
reach my house.'
'Yes,' replied Chusa, grinding his teeth with rage: 'you shall reach
home with me. But, by the columns of the temple! you shall not again
quit it without me.'
Jane made no reply, but tendered her hand to her husband for him to
assist her to get up behind; with a light bound she seated herself on
the horse.
'Mount behind me also,' said Gremion to his wife, in an angry tone.
'Your slave Genevieve; and by Jupiter she shall pay dear for her
complicity in this indignity! your slave, Genevieve, shall mount behind
one of the cavaliers of the escort.'
It was thus arranged, and they then pursued their way to Jerusalem. The
horseman, who carried Genevieve behind, following close upon Gremion
and Chusa, the slave heard the latter harshly scolding their wives.
'No, by Hercules!' exclaimed the Roman; 'to find my wife disguised as a
man in the midst of this band of ragged beggars and seditious
wretches!--'Tis incredible; no, by Hercules! till I came to Judea I
never heard of such an enormity.'
'And I, who am of Judea, seigneur,' observed Chusa, 'I am no more than
yourself, accustomed to these enormities. I knew well that beggars,
thieves, and abandoned women followed this cursed Nazarene. But may the
wrath of God strike me on the instant, if I have ever heard of the
indignity to mix themselves with the vile populace that this man drags
after him in every country; a vile populace that would just now have
stoned us, but for the valor of our attitude,' added Chusa with a
victorious air.
'Yes, luckily, we imposed on these wretches by our courage,' replied
Gremion, 'otherwise there would have been an end of us. Ah! you said
true, this is another proof of the hatred and resentments produced by
the incendiary predictions of the Nazarene; he dreams of nothing but
exciting the poor against the rich.'
'Did not the young master, on the contrary, appease the fury of the
crowd?' said the gentle but firm voice of Jane. 'Did he not say: 'Let
these men go in peace, and let them sin no more.'
'What think you of such audacity?' exclaimed Chusa, addressing Gremion.
'You heard my wife? Will it not be now said that we cannot go along the
roads but with the permission of the Nazarene, of that son of
Beelzebub! and that if we escaped the fury of those wretches, 'twas
owing to the promise he made them that we should sin no more. By the
pillars of the temple! is this impudence enough?'
'The young man of Nazareth,' resumed Jane, 'cannot answer for what is
said and done in his name. The crowd was unjustly excited against you,
when by a word he appeased it. What more could he do?'
'There again!' exclaimed Chusa. 'And by what right does this Nazarene
calm or excite the popular will as he chooses? Do you know why we are
returning to Jerusalem? It is because we are assured that in consequence
of the abominable predictions of this man, the mountaineers of Judea and
the laborers of the plain of Saron, would stone us if we presented
ourselves to collect the taxes.'
'The young man has said: 'Render unto Cæsar that which is Cæsar's, and
unto God that which is God's!'' continued Jane. 'Is it then his fault,
if the population, crushed by the taxes, are unable to pay more?'
'And, by Hercules! they must pay, and will, too!' exclaimed Gremion, 'we
are returning to Jerusalem to obtain an escort of troops sufficient to
put down rebellion; and woe to those who resist us!'
'And above all, woe to this Nazarene!' said Chusa; 'he alone is the
cause of all the evil. So I am going to inform Prince Herod, and the
Seigneurs Pontius Pilate and Caiphus, of the increasing audacity of this
vagabond, and to demand, if necessary, his death.'
'Kill him!' said Jane, 'he will pardon you, and pray to God for you.' It
was thus that Jane, Aurelia, and Genevieve were brought back to
Jerusalem.