CHAP. XIV.

It seemed to Joseph as he hurried along the Plain of Gennesaret that the

sun shone gayer than his wont, but as he approached Capernaum he began

to think that the sun had risen a little earlier than his wont. Nobody

was about! He listened in vain for some sound of life, till at last his

ear caught a sound as of somebody moving along the wharves, and, going

thither, he came upon Peter storing his oars in the boathouse. Making

ready, Joseph said, for fishing? You don't see, Master, that I'm putting

my oars away, but I'd as lief take them out again and fish till evening.

Here was a mysterious answer from the least mysterious of men, and Peter

continued in his work, throwing the oars into a corner like one that

cared little if he broke them, and kicking his nets aside as if he were

never going to let them down again into the lake: altogether his mood

was of an exasperation such as Joseph had never suspected to be possible

in this good-humoured, simple fellow. Had he been obliged to leave the

community or sell his boats? If that were so, his chance (Joseph's

chance) of entering the community was a poor one indeed; and he begged

Peter to relate his trouble to him--for trouble there had been last

night, he was sure of it.

Trouble there always is in this world, Peter answered, so long as I've

known it, and will be till God sets up his kingdom. The sooner he does

it the better, so say I. But I don't know about the saints we heard of

yesterday, what they have to do with it. The Master's mood is stranger

than I ever can recollect it, he said, standing up straight and looking

Joseph in the eyes. It was yourself that said it yesterday, Peter,

Joseph rejoined. I'm thinking it may have been the Samaritans that vexed

him. Peter lifted his heavy shoulders and muttered: the Samaritans? We

give no heed to them: and he began to speak, at first with diffidence;

Joseph had to woo him into speaking, which he did; but after the first

few minutes Peter was glib enough, telling Joseph that last night there

had been stirs and quarrels among the disciples regarding his boats, and

John's and James' boats too, he said, and by the jealous and envious, he

muttered, who would like to come between us and the Master. Joseph asked

who had raised the vexatious question, but Peter avoided it, and went

about the wharf grunting that none could answer it: was it to Matthew,

the publican, he was to give his boats? one, he said, who never was on

the water in his life till I took him out for a sail a week come

Tuesday. A fine use they'd be to him but to drown himself. A puff of

wind, and not knowing how to take in a reef, the boat would be over in a

jiffy and the nets lost. Now who would be the better for the loss of my

nets? answer me that. And I'd like to be told when my boats and nets

were at the bottom of the lake to whom would the Son of Man turn for a

corner in which to lay his head, or for a bite or a sup of wine. John

and James would give their boats to Judas belike, and he'd bring home

about as much fish as would---- But I'm thinking of your father. What

will he be saying to all this, and his business dwindling all the while,

and we beggars?--the words with which my wife roused me this morning. Of

course, says she, if the stone that never was cut out of the mountain

with hands is going to be slung and send the Romans toppling, I've

naught to say against sharing, but the Kingdom had better come quickly,

Simon Peter, if thou'lt fish no more; and the woman is right, say I,

though I hold with every word that falls from the Master's lips, only

this way it is, he looks to my fishing for his support, and Miriam is

quick to remind me of that. A good woman, one that has been always

yielding to my will and never had a word against our lodger, but sets

the best before him out of thankfulness for his saving of her mother's

life, though one more mouth in a house is always a drain, if the Master

is as easily fed as a sparrow. But restive she is now about the delay:

as I was saying just now she wakes me up with a loud question in my ear:

now, Simon Peter, answer me, art thou going into Syria to bid the blind

to see, the lame to walk, and the palsied to shake no more, or art thou

going to thy trade? for in this house there be four little children,

myself, their mother, and thy mother-in-law. I say nothing against the

journey if it bring thee good money, or if it bring the Kingdom, but if

it bring naught but miracles there'll be little enough in the house to

eat by the time ye come back. And, says she, the feeding of his children

is a nobler work for a married man (she speaks like that sometimes) than

bidding those to see who would belike be better without their eyes than

with them. You wouldn't think it, but 'tis as I say: she talks up to me

like that, and ofttimes I've to go to the Master and ask him to quiet

her, which he rarely fails to do, for she loves him for what he has done

for her mother, and is willing to wait. But last night when the

busybodies brought her news that the Master had been preaching in the

forest, of the sharing of the world out among the holy saints, she gave

way to her temper and was violent, saying, by what right are the saints

of the most high coming here to ask for a share of this world, as if

they hadn't a heaven to live in. You see, good Master, there's right on

her side, that's what makes it so hard to answer her, and I'm with her

in this, for by what right do the holy saints down here ask for a share

in the world, that's what keeps drumming in my head; and, as I told you

a while ago, I'd as lief put out upon the lake and fish as go to Syria

for nothing, say the word---- And leave the Master to go alone? Joseph

interposed. Well, I suppose we can't do that, Peter answered, and then

it seemed to Joseph wiser not to talk any more, but to allow things to

fashion their own course, which they did very amiably, in about an

hour's time the little band going forth, Joseph walking by Peter's side,

hoping that he would not have to wait long before seeing a miracle.

Their first stop was at Chorazin, about five miles distant, and the sick

began to rise quickly from their beds, and Jesus had only to impose his

hands for the palsied to cease quivering. The laws of nature seemed

suspended and Joseph forgot his father at Magdala and likewise Pilate's

business which had brought him to Galilee. It will have to wait, he

said, talking with himself, and now certain that he had come upon him

whom he had always been seeking; it was as lost time to look at anything

but Jesus, or to hear any words but his, or to admire aught but the

manifestations of his power; and every time a sick man rose from his bed

Joseph thanked God for having allowed him to live in the days of the

Messiah. He saw sight restored to the blind, hearing to the deaf,

swiftness of foot to cripples, issues of blood that had endured ten

years stanched; the cleansing of the leper had become too common a

miracle; he looked forward to seeing demons taking flight from the

bodies of men and women, and accepted Peter's telling that the day could

not be delayed much longer when he would see some dead man rise up in

his cere-clothes from the tomb. He found no interest but in the

miraculous, and his one vexation of spirit was that Jesus forbade his

disciples (among whom Joseph now counted himself) to tell anybody that

he was the Messiah.

In every town they were welcomed by the Gentiles as well as by the Jews,

which was surprising, and set Joseph's wits to work; and these being

well trained, he soon began to apprehend that the Jews accepted the

miracles as testimony that Jesus was really the Messiah and that his

teaching was true; whereas the Gentiles admired the miracles for their

own sake, failing, however, and completely, to see that because he cured

the blind, the palsied, the scrofulous and the halt, they should no

longer visit their temples and sacred groves, and admire no more Pan's

huge sexuality and hang garlands upon it, nor carve images of Diana and

Apollo. Such abstinence they could not comprehend, and deemed it enough

that they were ready to proclaim him a god on the occasion of every

great miracle, a readiness that gave great scandal and caused many Jews

to turn away from Jesus. It was not enough that he should repudiate this

godhead; and the hardness of heart and narrowness of soul that he

encountered among his own people afflicted Jesus as much as did the

incontinency of the Gentiles, whom he sometimes met, bearing images in

procession, going towards some shrine--the very same who had listened to

his teaching in the evening. Joseph once dared throw himself in front of

one of these processions, and he begged the processionists to Pan to

throw aside the garlands and wreaths they had woven. This they would not

do, but out of respect to the distinguished strangers that had come to

their town they listened for some minutes to his relation that on the

last day the dead would be roused by the trumpets of angels to attend

the judgment and that the man Jesus before them--the Messiah announced

hundreds of years ago in many a prophetic book--would return to earth in

a chariot of fire by his Father's side, the Judgment Book in his hands.

May we now proceed on our way? they asked, but Joseph besought them to

listen to him for another few minutes, and thinking he had perhaps

explained the resurrection badly, and forthwith calling to mind the

philosophy of Egypt and Mathias, he asked them to apprehend that it

would not be the corruptible body that would rise from the dead but the

spiritual body, whereby he only succeeded in perplexing still further

the minds of the worthy pagans of Cæsarea Philippi, and provoking stirs

and quarrels among his own people.

The processionists took advantage of this diversion of opinion among the

Jews to pass on and dispose of their wreaths and votive offerings as it

pleased them to do. But on their way back they begged Jesus to perform

some more miracles, which he refused to do, and to their great amazement

he left them for the Tyrians and Sidonians. But the same difficulties

occurred in Tyre and Sidon, the Gentiles accepting the miracles with

delight but paying little heed to the doctrine. They begged him to

remain with them and offered gifts for his services as healer, but he

refused these and returned to Galilee, having performed miracles of all

sorts, without, however, having bidden a dead man rise from the grave,

to the great disappointment of Joseph, who would have liked to witness

this miracle (the greatest of all); seemingly it was not his lot. Peter

bade him hope!--the great miracle might happen in Galilee, and as such a

miracle would evince the truth of Jesus' Messiah-ship even to his

father, Joseph remained in Capernaum, going out in the boats with Jesus

and his disciples, sailing along the shores till the people gathered in

numbers sufficient for an exhortation. As there were always many

Pharisees and Sadducees among the crowds assembled to hear the Master,

he did not land, but preached standing up in the bow, Peter vigilant

with an oar, for priests are everywhere enemies of reformation and

instigate attacks upon reformers, and those made on Jesus were often so

violent that Peter had to strike out to the right and left, but he

always managed to get free, and they sailed for less hostile coasts or

back to the wharf at Capernaum.

It once occurred to them to try their luck with the Gadarenes, and it

was in returning from their coasts one evening that Peter's boat was

caught in a great storm and that Joseph was met by one of his father's

servants as he jumped ashore. The man had come to tell him that if he

wished to see his father alive he must hasten to Magdala, and Joseph

glared at him dumbfounded, for he had suspected all along that he had

little or no right at all to leave his father for Jesus. I did not know

I was like this, he blurted out to himself. And as much to silence his

accusing conscience as anything else he questioned the stupid messenger,

asking him if his father had seen a physician, and if the physician had

held out any hopes of a recovery. But the thin and halting account which

was all the messenger could give only increased Joseph's alarm, and it

was with much difficulty that he learnt from him that the master had

brought some walnuts to the parrots, and just after giving a nut to the

green parrot had cried out to Tobias that a great pain had come into his

head. Joseph dug his heels into his ass's side and cried to the

messenger: and then? The messenger answered that the pain in the back of

his father's head had become so great that he had begun to reel about,

overthrowing one of the parrots on its perch. The parrot flew at master,

thinking he had done it---- Never mind the parrot, Joseph replied

angrily, confusing the messenger, who told him that the master had

entered the house on Tobias' arm, and had sat down to supper but had

eaten nothing to speak of. None of us dared to go to bed that night, the

messenger continued. We sat up, expecting every moment somebody to come

down from the room overhead to tell us that the master was dead. The

next part of the messenger's story was like a tangled skein, and Joseph

half heard and half understood that the great physician that had come

from Tiberias had said that he must awaken the master out of the swoon

and at any cost. He kept bawling at him, the messenger said. Bawling at

him, Joseph repeated after the messenger, and the messenger repeated the

words, bawling at him, and saying that the physician said the master's

swoon was like a wall and that he must get him to hear him somehow. He

said the effort would cost your father, Sir, a great deal, but he must

get him to hear him. The story as the servant related it seemed

incredible, but he reflected that servants' stories are always

incredible, and Joseph learned with increasing wonder that Dan had heard

the physician and sat up in bed and spoken reasonably, but had fallen

back again unconscious, and that the physician on leaving him said that

they must get his mouth open somehow and pour a spoonful of milk into

his mouth, and call upon him as loudly as they could to swallow. What

physician have they sent for? Joseph asked the messenger, but he could

not remember the name.

It was Ecanus who was sitting by Dan's bedside when Joseph arrived, and

Joseph learnt by careful nursing and feeding him every ten minutes there

was just a chance of saving Dan's life.

For seven days Dan's life receded, and it was not till the eighth day

the wheel of life paused on the edge of the abyss. Dan, with his eyes

turned up under the eyelids, only the white showing, lay motionless; and

it was not till the morning of the ninth day that the wheel began to

revolve back again; but so slow were its revolutions that Joseph was in

doubt for two or three days. But on the fifth day he was sure that Dan

was mending, and in about three days more the pupils of Dan's eyes

looked at his son's from under the eyelids. He spoke a few words and

took his milk more easily, without being asked to swallow. The pains in

his head returned with consciousness; he often moaned; the doctor was

obliged to give him opiates, but he continued to mend and in three weeks

was speaking of going out to walk in the garden. To gain his end he

often showed a certain childish cunning, urging Joseph on one occasion

to go to the verandah to see if somebody was coming up the garden, and

as soon as Joseph's back was turned he slipped out of bed with the

intention of getting to his clothes. He fell, without, however, hurting

himself, and was put back to bed and kept there for three more weeks

before he was allowed a short walk. Even then the concession seemed to

be given too soon; for he could not distinguish the different trees, nor

could he see the parrots, though he could hear them, and he remained in

purblindness for some two or three weeks; but his sight returned, and he

said to Joseph: that is a palm-tree and that is a pepper-tree. Joseph

answered that he said truly and hastened across the garden to meet

Ecanus, for he desired to ask him privily if his father were out of all

danger; and the answer to his question was that Dan's life would pass

away in a swoon like the one he had just come out of, but he might swoon

many times--two or three times, perhaps oftener--before he swooned for

the last time. More than that Ecanus could not say. A silence fell

suddenly between them, and wondering what term of life his father had

still to traverse before he swooned into eternity, Joseph followed the

physician through the wilting alleys, seeking the shadiest parts, for

the summer was well-nigh upon them now.

At the end of one of these, out of the sun's rays, the old man lay

propped up among cushions, dreaming, or perhaps only conscious, of the

refreshing breeze that came and went away again. But he awoke at the

sound of their steps on the sanded paths, and raised his stick as a sign

to them to come to him, and, seeing that he wished to speak, Joseph

leaned over his chair, putting his ear close to his father's face, for

Dan's speech was still thick and often inarticulate. Thou wast nearly

going down in the storm, he said, and Joseph could hardly believe that

he heard rightly, for what could his father know of the storm on the

lake, he being in a deep swoon at the time beyond the reach of words. He

asked his father who had told him of the storm, but Dan could say no

more than that a voice had told him that there was a great storm upon

the lake and that Joseph was in it. Miracle upon miracle! Joseph cried,

and he related his escape from shipwreck; how when coming in Peter's

boat from the opposite shores the wind had risen, carrying the lake in

showers over the boat till all were wetted to their skins. But,

unmindful of these showers, Jesus had continued his teaching, even after

a great wave wrenched away a plank or part of one. Master, if the boat

be not staunched we perish, Peter said, for which Jesus rebuked Peter

and called them all to come forward and kneel closer about him. Kneel,

he said, your faces towards me, and forget the plank and remember your

sins. We could not do else but as we were bidden, and we all knelt about

him, our thoughts fixed as well as we were able to fix them on our sins,

but the water was coming into the boat all the while, and in the midst

of our prayers we said: in another moment we perish if he stay not the

wind and waves. We thought that he would stand up in the bow and

command, but he remained seated, and continued to teach us, but the wind

lulled all the same, and when we looked round the boat was staunch

again, and we made the wharf at Capernaum easily.

Ecanus, who was a man of little faith, asked Joseph if he had seen

anybody put his hand to the plank and restore it to its place, and

Joseph answered that all were grouped round the Master praying, and that

none had fallen away from the group. But there were some in the boat

that saw a little angel speeding over the waves. Philip saw both wings

and the angel's feet, but I had only a glimpse. If you would only let me

bring him to you---- But, reading his father's face, Joseph continued:

if you haven't faith, Father, he couldn't do anything for thee. Father,

let me bring him. This shows no distrust in your power, he interjected

suddenly, turning to Ecanus. Each man has powers given to him; some are

physical and some spiritual; some are powerful in one element and some

in another. But no magician that I have met has power over fire and

water. Only those into whom God has descended can command both fire and

water alike. And he related that when they passed through Chorazin and a

woman ran out of her house crying that her little boy had fallen into

the fire, Jesus had asked her if she had applied any remedy, and on her

saying she had not, he had said: then I will cure him. With his breath

he restored him, and five minutes after the child was playing with his

little comrades in the street. If, however, she had poured oil on the

wounds he couldn't have cured them, Joseph explained, for his affinity

with fire would have been interrupted. In the village of Opeira a child

while carrying a kettle of boiling water from the fire tipped it over,

burning a good deal of the flesh of one foot, which, however, healed

under Jesus' breath almost as soon as he had breathed upon it. And yet

another child was healed of the croup, but this time it was John who

imposed his hands: Jesus had transmitted some of his power over the ills

of the flesh to the disciples. On Dan asking if Joseph had seen Jesus

cast out devils, Joseph replied that he had, but it would take some time

to tell the exordium. Whereupon Ecanus remembered that other patients

waited for his attendance and took his leave, warning Joseph before

leaving against the danger of tiring his father, a thing that Joseph

promised not to do; but as soon as the door closed after the physician

Dan began to beg so earnestly for stories that Joseph could not do else

than tell him of the miracle he had witnessed. Better to submit, he

thought, than to agitate his father by refusal; and he began this

narrative; the morning of the storm, which they would not have succeeded

in weathering had it not been for the intervention of the angel. Jesus

and some of the disciples, including Joseph, had set their sail for the

Gadarene coasts; and finding a landing-place by a shore seeming

desolate, they proceeded into the country; and while seeking a

sufficient number to exhort and to teach, their search led them past

some broken ruins, shards of an old castle, apparently tenantless. They

were about to pass it without examination when a wailing voice from one

of the turrets brought them to a standstill. They were not at first

certain whether the wailing sound was the voice of the wind or a human

voice, but they had hearkened and with difficulty had separated the

doleful sound into: woe! woe! woe! unto thee Jerusalem, woe! woe! It

sounds to me, Peter said, like one that is making a mock of thee,

Master. Having heard that thou foretellest woe to Chorazin---- But

Judas, seeing a cloud gathering on Peter's face, nudged Peter, and the

twain went up together and some minutes after returned with a half-naked

creature, an outcast whom they had found crouching like a jackal in a

hole among the stones, one clearly possessed by many devils. Now as all

were in wonder what his history might be, a swineherd passing by at the

time told them how the poor, naked creature would take a beating or a

gift of food for his singing with the same gentle grace. The words had

hardly passed the swineherd's lips than the possessed began to sing:

Woe! woe! woe! the winds are wailing.

The four great sisters, the winds of the world,

Call one to the other, and it is thy doom

They are calling, Jerusalem.

Woe! woe! woe!

The North brings ruin, the South brings sorrow,

The East wind grief, and the West wind tears

For Jerusalem.

Woe! woe! woe!

And he sung this little song several times, till the hearts of the

disciples hardened against the outcast and they were minded to beat him

if he did not cease; but the swineherd warned them that a surer way to

silence him was by giving him some food; and while he stood by eating,

the swineherd confided the story of the fool, or as much of it as he

knew, to Jesus. The fool, he said, came from Jerusalem some two years

ago. He had been driven out of the Temple, which he frequented daily,

crying about the courts the song with which he wearied you just now,

till the most patient were unable to bear it any longer; and every time

he met a priest he looked into his face and sang: woe! woe! woe! unto

Jerusalem, and whenever he met a scribe he would cry: woe! woe! woe!

unto Jerusalem, hindering them in their work about the Temple. Some

stones were thrown, but enough life was left in him to crawl away, and

as soon as he recovered from his wounds he was about again, singing his

melancholy ditty (he knows but one). He was told if he did not cease he

would be beaten with rods, but he could not cease it, and started his

ditty again as soon as he could bear a shirt on his back; and then he

must have travelled up here afoot, picking up a bit here and a bit

there, getting a lift in an ox-cart. He is without memory of anything,

who he is, where he came from, or who taught him his song. He does not

know why he chose that broken tower for a dwelling, nor do we, but

fortunately it stands in a waste. We hear him singing as we go by to our

work and pitch him scraps of food from time to time. We hear him as we

return in the evening to our homes making his melancholy dwelling sadder

with his song. But he is a harmless, poor fool, save for the annoyance

of his song, which he cannot stanch any more than the wind in the broken

turrets. A harmless fool who will follow whosoever asked him to follow,

unafraid, and taking a blow or a hunch of bread in the same humour, and

distinguishing no man from the next one.

As the swineherd said these words the fool said: Jesus, thou hast come

to my help, but woe to thee, Son of God, thou wilt suffer thy death in

Jerusalem; and looking up into Jesus' face more intensely: oh, Son of

Man, what aileth thee or me? And knowest thou anything of the cloud of

woe that hangs over Jerusalem? To which Jesus made no answer, but called

upon the devils to say how many there were, and they answered: three.

Then depart ye three, Jesus replied, and was about to impose his hands

when the three devils asked whither they should go, to which Jesus

answered: ye must seek another refuge, for here ye cannot remain. Seek

among the wolves and foxes. But these will flee from us, the devils

answered; allow us to enter the hogs rooting the ground before thee. But

at this the swineherd cried out: forbid the devils to enter into my

hogs, else they will run over the cliffs and drown themselves in the

sea. Though you are Jews, and do not look favourably on hogs, they are

as God made them. To which Jesus answered, turning to his disciples: the

man speaks well, for if unclean they be, it was the will of God that

made them so. And taking pity on the hogs that were rooting quietly,

unaware of the devils eager to enter into them, he said: there are

statues of gods and goddesses in Tiberias, enter into them. And

immediately the devils took flight, giving thanks to Jesus as they

departed thither.

Joseph waited a moment and tried to read his father's face. But Dan's

face remained fixed, and as if purposely, which vexed Joseph, who cried:

now, Father, you may believe or disbelieve, or be it thou'rt naturally

averse from Jesus, but thou knowest as well as I do that two days after

the great storm a statue of the goddess Venus fell from her pedestal in

the streets of Tiberias and was broken. But, Joseph, when the statue

fell I was sick and had no knowledge of the fall. But if a statue of the

goddess Venus did fall from her pedestal, I'd ask why the devils should

choose to destroy false gods? Were it not more reasonable for them to

uphold the false gods safe and secure on their pedestals? The gods were

overthrown for a sign that the devils had left the fool's body, Joseph

answered. But why, Dan replied, didn't three statues fall?--a statue for

each devil--and whither did the devils go? That one statue should fall

was enough for a sign, Joseph said, but no more would he say, for his

father's incredulity irritated him, and seeing that he had angered his

son, Dan stretched his hand to him and said: perhaps we are more eager

to believe when we are young than when we are old. And he asked Joseph

to tell him of some other miracle that he might have seen Jesus perform.

Joseph had seen Jesus perform many other miracles, but he was loath to

relate them, for none, he felt sure, would impose upon his father the

belief that Jesus was the Messiah that was promised to the Jews. All the

same the miracle of the woods rose in his mind, and so plainly that he

could not keep the story back, and almost before he was aware of it he

began the relation, telling how Jesus, James, John, Andrew, and himself

were at table, mingling jest with earnest (Peter was not with them,

being kept at home, for his wife was in child-birth at the time), when

the women of the village were heard running up the street crying

together to the men to take part in the chase of the wild man of the

woods, who had come down amongst them once more questing the flesh of

women. But this time we'll put a stop to his leaping, they cried. A

goatherd coming from the hills has seen him enter a cave and as soon as

he has folded his goats he will lead us to it. But the villagers were in

no mood for waiting; the goats could be folded by another; and the

goatherd was bidden and obliged to leave his goats and lead the way,

Jesus and his disciples following with the others through the forest

till we came to a ravine. And the goatherd said: look between yon great

rocks, for it was between them he passed out of my sight. And let one of

you creep in after him, but I must return to my goats, having no

confidence that they have been properly folded for the night. The

goatherd would have run away if he hadn't been held fast, and there

were questions as to who would enter. The first said "no," the second

the same, giving as reason that they were not young or strong enough,

whereas the goatherd was both, and none better endowed for the struggle;

and the people became of one mind that they must beat the goatherd with

the crows if he did not go down into the cave, but Jesus, arriving in

time, said: it is not lawful to break into any man's dwelling with

crows, nor to kill him because his sins affront you; let us rather give

him means to cut himself free from sins. At which words the people were

near to jeering, for it seemed to them that Jesus knew little of the man

they were pursuing, and they knew not what to understand when he asked

if any among them had a long, sharp knife, and there was a movement as

if they were about to leave him; but one man said: thou shalt have mine,

Master, and, taking it out of his girdle, he gave it to Jesus, who

tested it with his thumb, and, satisfied with it, laid it on the rock

beside the cave. But the people began to mutter: he will use the knife

against us, Master. Not against you, Jesus answered, but against

himself, thereby defending himself against himself. There were

mutterings among the people, and some said that his words were too hard

to understand, but all were silent as soon as Jesus raised his hands and

stepped towards the cave, and began to breathe his spirit against the

lust that possessed the man's flesh. We must return here, he said, with

oil and linen cloths. At which all wondered, not knowing what meaning to

put upon his words, but they believed Jesus, and came at daybreak to

meet him at the edge of the forest and followed the path as before till

they came to the hillside. The man was no longer hidden in his cave, but

sat outside by the rock on which Jesus had laid the knife, and Jesus

said: happy is he born into the world without sting, and happy is he out

of whom men have taken the sting before he knew it, but happier than

these is the man that cuts out the part that offends him, setting the

spirit free as this man has done.

Joseph ceased speaking suddenly and stood waiting for his father to

admire the miracle he had related, but Dan's tongue struggled with

words; and Joseph, being taken as it were with another flux of words,

and like one apprehensive of the argument that none shall undo God's

handiwork, set out on the telling that the cause of man's lust of women

was that God and the devil had a bet together--the devil saying that if

God let him sting a man in a certain part of his hide he would get him

in the end despite all that God might do to save him from hell. To which

God, being in the humour, consented, and the sting was put into nearly

all men. A few the devil overlooked, and these have much spared to them,

and those out of whom the sting is taken in childhood are fortunate, but

those who, like the wild man of the wood, cut the sting out of their own

free will are worthy of all praise; and he cited the authority of Jesus

that man should mutilate his body till it conform perforce to his piety.

But the story of man's fall is told differently in the Book of Genesis,

my son. The admonition that he was laying violent hands on a sacred book

startled Joseph out of his meditations, and in some confusion of words

and mind he began to prevaricate, saying that he thought he had made

himself clear: the release of pious souls from the bondage of the flesh

was more important than the continuance of the impious. Moreover in the

days of Moses, Israel was not steeped in as many iniquities as she is

now, and the Day of Judgment was not so close at hand. More men meant

more sins, and sin has become so common that God can endure the torture

no longer.... Again Joseph ceased speaking suddenly and, almost agape,

stood gazing into his father's face, reading therein a great perplexity,

for Dan was asking himself for what good reason had God given him so

strange a son. He would have been content to let the story pass into

another, but Joseph was waiting for him to speak, and speaking

incontinently he said he had heard that in the Temple of Astoreth the

Phoenician youths often castrated themselves with shards of shells or

pottery and threw their testicles in the lap of the goddess crying out:

art thou satisfied now, Astoreth? But he did not know of any text in

their Scriptures that counselled such a practice; and the introduction

of it seemed to savour of borrowing from the heathen. Whereupon Joseph

averred that whereas the wont of the Phoenician youths is without

reason, the same could not be said of Jesus' device to save a soul. To

which Dan rejoined that the leaving of the knife for the man to mutilate

himself with, seemed to him to be contrary to all the rumours of Jesus

that had come to his ears. I have heard that he would set the law aside

and the traditions of our race, declaring the uncircumcised to be

acceptable to God as the Jew; that he sits down to food with the

uncircumcised and lays no store on burnt offerings. Nor did Isaiah,

Joseph interrupted, and circumcision is itself a mutilation. I do not

contest its value, mark you; but if thou deny'st that Jesus was right to

leave a knife whereby the sinner might free himself from sin thou must

also deny circumcision. Circumcision is the sign of our race, Dan

answered. A physical sign, an outward sign, Joseph cried, and he asked

his father to say if the Jews would ever forget priests and ritual; and

he reminded his father that the once sinner, now a holy anchorite, did

not bring an appetency into the world that could be overcome by prayer,

and so had to resort to the knife that he might live in the spirit. It

seems to me, Joseph, that we should live as God made us, for better or

worse. But, Father, once you admit circumcision---- A man should not be

over-nice, Joseph, and though it be far from my thought to wish to see

thee a fornicator or adulterer it would rejoice me exceedingly to see

grandchildren about me. There is a maiden---- Another reason, Father, of

which I have not yet spoken makes the marriage of the flesh seem a

vanity to me, and that is---- I know it well, Joseph, that the great

day is coming when the world will be remoulded afresh. But, Father, do

ye believe in nothing but observances? Tell me, Joseph, did thy prophet

ever raise anybody from the dead? Yes, and hoping to convince his father

by another miracle he fell to telling eagerly how a young girl who was

being carried to the grave was called back to life.

She was, he said, coming from her wedding feast. And he told how there

were in the village two young girls, one as fair as the other, rivals in

love as well as in beauty, both having the same young man in their

hearts, and for a long time it seemed uncertain which would get him; for

he seemed to favour them alternately, till at length Ruth, unable to

bear her jealousy any longer, went to the young man, saying that she was

close on a resolve to see him no more. Your lover? he answered, his

cheek blanching, for he dearly loved her. I haven't gotten a lover, she

said; only a share in a lover. Your words, Ruth, relieve me of much

trouble, he replied, and took her in his arms and said: it was a good

thought that brought you hither, for if you hadn't come I might never

have been able to decide between you, but your coming has given me

strength, and now I know which I desire. And then it was the girl's

cheek that grew pale, for he hadn't answered at once which he would

have. Which? she asked, and he replied: you, not Rachel. If that be so,

she answered, I am divided between joy and sorrow; gladness for myself,

sorrow for my friend; and it behoves me to go to her and tell her of her

loss. I am the chosen one, she said to Rachel, who turned away, saying:

had I gone to him and asked him to choose between us he would have

chosen me. He couldn't do else.

She began to brood and to speak of a spell laid upon the young man, and

her visits to a sorceress came to be spoken about so openly that it was

against the bridegroom's wish that Rachel was asked to the wedding

feast; but Ruth pleaded, saying that it would be no feast for her if

Rachel did not present herself at the table. The twain sat opposite each

other at table, Rachel seemingly the happier, eating, drinking,

laughing, foretelling that Mondis would fill Ruth's life with happiness

from end to end. Thou wilt never see the face of an evil hour, she said,

and Ruth in her great joy answered: Rachel, I know not why he didn't

choose thee; thou'rt so beautiful; and the young Mondis wooed her at the

table, to Ruth's pleasure, for she knew of his thankfulness to Rachel

for allowing the wedding to pass in concord, without a jarring note.

She seemed to listen to him as a sister might to a beloved brother, and

as the wedding feast drew to a close she said: Ruth shall drink wine

with me, and the cups were passed across the table, and laughter and

jest flowed on for a while. But soon after drinking from Rachel's cup

Ruth turned pale and, leaning back into the arms of her bridegroom, she

said: I know not what ails me.... And then a little later on she was

heard to say: I am going, and with a little sigh she went out of her

life, lying on her bridegroom's arm white and still like a cut flower.

The word "poison" swelled up louder and louder, and all eyes were

directed against Rachel, who to prove her innocence drank the wine that

was left in Ruth's glass; but it was said afterwards that she had not

drunk out of the cup that she had handed to Ruth. Be this as it may, a

house of joy was turned into a house of tears. Bridegroom, parents and

friends fell into procession, and we who were coming down the street

met the bier, and after hearing the story of the girl's death Jesus

said: let me speak to her, and, leaning over her, he whispered in her

ear, and soon after we thought it was the wind that stirred the folds of

her garments, but her limbs were astir in them; the colour came back to

her cheeks; she raised herself on her bier, and with his bride in his

arms the bridegroom worshipped Jesus as a god; but Jesus reproved him,

saying: it was by the power of God working through me that she was

raised from the dead: give thanks to him who alone merits our thanks.

But Rachel, who had been following the bier in great grief, hanging on

the bridegroom's arm could not contain herself at the sight of Ruth

raised from the dead, and it wrenching her reason out of her control

compelled her to call upon the people to cast out the Nazarene, who

worked cures with the help of the demons with whom he was in league,

which proved to everybody that her friendly words to Ruth at the feast

were make-believe, and that she had been plotting all the while how she

might ruin her.

At the sight of Ruth beautiful and living naught mattered to Rachel but

revenge, and she crossed the street as if with the intention of striking

her with a dagger, but as she approached Jesus the flame of fury died

out of her face, and like one overwhelmed with a great love she cast

herself at his feet, and could not be removed. Why do you turn the woman

from me? he asked. Whatever her sins may have been they are forgiven,

for she loves me. But she loved the other man five seconds before, Dan

submitted, and Joseph replying to him said: she only knew that passion

of the flesh which we share with the beasts of the fields, the fowls of

the air and the fish in the sea. But now she loves Jesus as we love

him--with the spirit. And next day she brought all her wealth to him;

the golden comb she was wont to wear in her hair she would place in his;

and the silks and linen in which she was wont to clothe herself she laid

at his service; but he told her to sell all these things and give the

money to the poor. Give to the poor! That is what I hear always, cried

Dan; but if we gave all to the poor we would be as poor as the very

poorest; and where, then, would the money come from with which we now

help the poor?

Give to the poor that thou mayest become worthy of a place in the world

to come. This world is but a shadow--an illusion, Joseph answered

defiantly. Thou hast that answer for everything, Joseph; and another day

when I'm stronger I'll argue that out with thee. I have tired thee,

Father; but if I've told you many stories it was because---- Because,

Dan retorted, thou wouldst have Jesus cast his spells over me. But I've

no use for them; thou art enough.

And while Joseph debated how he might convince his father that the girl

was really dead, Dan asked for news of Rachel, and Joseph answered that

she was with them every day, that their company had been increased by

several devoted women. Thou hast talked enough, Father, and more than

enough; if Ecanus were to return he would accuse me of planning to talk

you to death.

The Brook Kerith: A Syrian story · 第 19 / 46 题