CHAPTER XI.

THE WANDERING JEW.

"'It was a fair summer-morning in holy Jerusalem, and I sat and

wrought at my trade, for I sewed a pair of sandals for the feet of

the high priest Caiaphas. And I wrought diligently, for it behoved

me to cease an hour ere set of sun, for it was the day of

preparation for the eating of the Passover.

"'Now all that night there had been a going to and fro in the city,

for the chief priests and their followers had at length laid hands

upon him that was called Jesus, whom some believed to be the

Messiah, and others, with my fool-self amongst them, an

arch-impostor and blasphemer. For I was of the house of Caiaphas,

and heartily did desire that the man my lord declared a deceiver of

the people, should meet with the just reward of his doings. Thus I

sat and worked, and thought and rejoiced; and the morning passed and

the noon came.

"'It was a day of sultry summer, and the street burned beneath the

sun, and I sat in the shadow and looked out upon the glare; and ever

I wrought at the sandals of my lord, with many fine stitches, in

cunning workmanship. All had been for some time very still, when

suddenly I thought I heard a far-off tumult. And soon came the idle

children, who ever run first that they be not swallowed up of the

crowd; and they ran and looked behind as they ran. And after them

came the crowd, crying and shouting, and swaying hither and thither;

and in the midst of it arose the one arm of a cross, beneath the

weight of which that same Jesus bent so low that I saw him not.

Truly, said I, he hath not seldom borne heavier burdens in the

workshop of his father the Galilean, but now his sins and his

idleness have found him, and taken from him his vigour; for he that

despiseth the law shall perish, while they that wait upon the Lord

shall renew their strength. For I was wroth with the man who taught

the people to despise the great ones that administered the law, and

give honour to the small ones who only kept it. Besides, he had

driven my father's brother from the court of the Gentiles with a

whip, which truly hurt him not outwardly, but stung him to the soul;

and yet that very temple which he pretended thus to honour, he had

threatened to destroy and build again in three days! Such were the

thoughts of my heart; and when I learned from the boys that it was

in truth Jesus of Nazareth who passed on his way to Calvary to be

crucified, my heart leaped within me at the thought that the law had

at length overtaken the malefactor. I laid down the sandal and my

awl, and rose and went forth and stood in the front of my shop. And

Jesus drew nigh, and as he passed, lo, the end of the cross dragged

upon the street. And one in the crowd came behind, and lifted it up

and pushed therewith, so that Jesus staggered and had nigh fallen.

Then would be fain have rested the arm of the cross on the stone by

which I was wont to go up into my shop from the street. But I cried

out, and drove him thence, saying scornfully, "Go on Jesus; go on.

Truly thou restest not on stone of mine!" Then turned he his eyes

upon me, and said, "I go indeed, but thou goest not;" and therewith

he rose again under the weight of the cross, and staggered on,

"'And I followed in the crowd to Calvary.'"

Here the reader paused and said,

"I can give you but a few passages now. You see it is a large

manuscript. I will therefore choose some of those that bear upon the

subject of which we have been talking. A detailed account of the

crucifixion follows here, which I could not bring myself to read

aloud. The eclipse is in it, and the earthquake, and the white faces

of the risen dead gleaming through the darkness about the cross. It

ends thus:

"'And all the time, I stood not far from the foot of the cross, nor

dared go nearer, for around it were his mother and they that were

with her, and my heart was sore for her also. And I would have

withdrawn my foot from the place where I stood, and gone home to

weep, but something, I know not what, held me there as it were

rooted to the ground. At length the end was drawing near. He opened

his mouth and spake to his mother and the disciple who stood by her,

but truly I know not what he said, for as his eyes turned from them,

they looked upon me, and my heart died within me. He said nought,

but his eyes had that in them that would have slain me with sorrow,

had not death, although I knew it not, already shrunk from my

presence, daring no more come nigh such a malefactor.--Oh Death, how

gladly would I build thee a temple, set thee in a lofty place, and

worship thee with the sacrifice of vultures on a fire of dead men's

bones, wouldst thou but hear my cry!--But I rave again in my folly!

God forgive me. All the days of my appointed time will I wait until

my change come.--With that look--a well of everlasting tears in my

throbbing brain--my feet were unrooted, and I fled.'"

Here the reader paused again, and turned over many leaves.

"'And ever as I passed at night through the lands, when I came to a

cross by the wayside, thereon would I climb, and, winding my arms

about its arms and my feet about its stem, would there hang in the

darkness or the moon, in rain or hail, in wind or snow or frost,

until my sinews gave way, and my body dropped, and I knew no more

until I found myself lying at its foot in the morning. For, ever in

such case, I lay without sense until again the sun shone upon me.

"'... And if ever the memory of that look passed from me, then,

straightway I began to long for death, and so longed until the

memory and the power of the look came again, and with the sorrow in

my soul came the patience to live. And truly, although I speak of

forgetting and remembering, such motions of my spirit in me were not

as those of another man; in me they are not measured by the scale of

men's lives; they are not of years, but of centuries; for the

seconds of my life are ticked by a clock whose pendulum swings

through an arc of motionless stars.

"'... Once I had a vision of Death. Methinks it must have been a

precursive vapour of the madness that afterwards infolded me, for I

know well that there is not one called Death, that he is but a word

needful to the weakness of human thought and the poverty of human

speech; that he is a no-being, and but a change from that which

is.--I had a vision of Death, I say. And it was on this wise:

"'I was walking over a wide plain of sand, like Egypt, so that ever

and anon I looked around me to see if nowhere, from the base of the

horizon, the pyramids cut their triangle out of the blue night of

heaven; but I saw none. The stars came down and sparkled on the dry

sands, and all was waste, and wide desolation. The air also was

still as the air of a walled-up tomb, where there are but dry bones,

and not even the wind of an evil vapour that rises from decay. And

through the dead air came ever the low moaning of a distant sea,

towards which my feet did bear me. I had been journeying thus for

years, and in their lapse it had grown but a little louder.--Suddenly

I was aware that I was not alone. A dim figure strode beside me,

vague, but certain of presence. And I feared him not, seeing that

which men fear the most was itself that which by me was the most

desired. So I stood and turned and would have spoken. But the shade

that seemed not a shadow, went on and regarded me not. Then I also

turned again towards the moaning of the sea and went on. And lo!

the shade which had gone before until it seemed but as a vapour

among the stars, was again by my side walking. And I said, and stood

not, but walked on: Thou shade that art not a shadow, seeing there

shineth no sun or moon, and the stars are many, and the one slayeth

the shadow of the other, what art thou, and wherefore goest thou by

my side? Think not to make me afraid, for I fear nothing in the

universe but that which I love the best.--I spake of the eyes of the

Lord Jesus.--Then the shade that seemed no shadow answered me and

spake and said: Little knowest thou what I am, seeing the very thing

thou sayest I am not, that I am, and nought else, and there is no

other but me. I am Shadow, the shadow, the only shadow--none such as

those from which the light hideth in terror, yet like them, for life

hideth from me and turneth away, yet if life were not, neither were

I, for I am nothing; and yet again, as soon as anything is, there am

I, and needed no maker, but came of myself, for I am Death.--Ha!

Death! I cried, and would have cast myself before him with outstretched

arms of worshipful entreaty; but lo, there was a shadow upon the belt

of Orion, and no shadow by my side! and I sighed, and walked on towards

the ever moaning sea. Then again the shadow was by my side. And again

I spake and said: Thou thing of flitting and return, I despise thee,

for thou wilt not abide the conflict. And I would have cast myself upon

him and wrestled with him there, for defeat and not for victory. But I

could not lay hold upon him. Thou art a powerless nothing, I cried; I

will not even defy thee.--Thou wouldst provoke me, said the shadow; but

it availeth not. I cannot be provoked. Truly, I am but a shadow, yet

know I my own worth, for I am the Shadow of the Almighty, and where

he is, there am I--Thou art nothing, I said.--Nay, nay, I am not

Nothing. Thou, nor any man--God only knoweth what that word

meaneth. I am but the shadow of Nothing, and when THOU sayest

NOTHING, thou meanest only me; but what God meaneth when he sayeth

NOTHING--the nothing without him, that nothing which is no shadow

but the very substance of Unbeing--no created soul can know.--Then

art thou not Death? I asked.--I am what thou thinkest of when thou

sayest Death, he answered, but I am not Death.--Alas, then! why

comest thou to me in the desert places, for I did think thou wast

Death indeed, and couldst take me unto thee so that I should be no

more.--That is what death cannot do for thee, said the shadow; none

but he that created thee can cause that thou shouldst be no more.

Thou art until he will that thou be not. I have heard it said

amongst the wise that, hard as it is to create, it is harder still

to uncreate. Truly I cannot tell. But wouldst thou be uncreated by

the hand of Death? Wouldst thou have thy no-being the gift of a

shadow?--Then I thought of the eyes of the Lord Jesus, and the look

he cast upon me, and I said, No: I would not be carried away of

Death. I would be fulfilled of Life, and stand before God for ever.

Then once again the belt of Orion grew dim, and I saw the shadow no

more. And yet did I long for Death, for I thought he might bring me

to those eyes, and the pardon that lay in them.

"'But again, as the years went on, and each brought less hope than

that before it, I forgot the look the Lord had cast upon me, and in

the weariness of the life that was mortal and yet would not cease,

in the longing after the natural end of that which against nature

endured, I began to long even for the end of being itself. And in a

city of the Germans, I found certain men of my own nation who said

unto me: Fear not, Ahasuerus; there is no life beyond the grave.

Live on until thy end come, and cease thy complaints. Who is there

among us who would not gladly take upon him thy judgment, and live

until he was weary of living?--Yea, but to live after thou art

weary? I said. But they heeded me not, answering me and saying:

Search thou the Scriptures, even the Book of the Law, and see if

thou find there one leaf of this gourd of a faith that hath sprung

up in a night. Verily, this immortality is but a flash in the brain

of men that would rise above their fate. Sayeth Moses, or sayeth

Job, or sayeth David or Daniel a word of the matter? And I listened

unto them, and became of their mind. But therewithal the longing

after death returned with tenfold force and I rose up and girt my

garment about me, and went forth once more to search for him whom I

now took for the porter of the gate of eternal silence and unfelt

repose. And I said unto myself as I walked: What in the old days was

sweeter when I was weary with my labour at making of shoes, than to

find myself dropping into the death of sleep! how much sweeter then

must it not be to sink into the sleepiest of sleeps, the

father-sleep, the mother-bosomed death of nothingness and unawaking

rest! Then shall all this endless whir of the wheels of thought and

desire be over; then welcome the night whose darkness doth not

seethe, and which no morning shall ever stir!

"'And wherever armies were drawing nigh, each to the other, and the

day of battle was near, thither I flew in hot haste, that I might be

first upon the field, and ready to welcome hottest peril. I fought

not, for I would not slay those that counted it not the good thing

to be slain, as I counted it. But had the armies been of men that

loved death like me, how had I raged among them then, even as the

angel Azrael to give them their sore-desired rest! for I loved and

hated not my kind, and would diligently have mown them down out of

the stinging air of life into the soft balm of the sepulchre. But

what they sought not, and I therefore would not give, that searched

I after the more eagerly for myself. And my sight grew so keen that,

when yet no bigger than a mote in the sunbeam, I could always descry

the vulture-scout, hanging aloft over the field of destiny. Then

would I hasten on and on, until a swoop would have brought him

straight on my head.

"'And with that a troop of horsemen, horses and men mad with living

fear, came with a level rush towards the spot where I sat, faint

with woe. And I sprang up, and bounded to meet them, throwing my

arms aloft and shouting, as one who would turn a herd. And like a

wave of the rising tide before a swift wind, a wave that sweeps on

and breaks not, they came hard-buffeting over my head. Ah! that was

a torrent indeed!--a thunderous succession of solid billows, alive,

hurled along by the hurricane-fear in the heart of them! For one

moment only I felt and knew what I lay beneath, and then for a time

there was nothing.--I woke in silence, and thought I was dying, that

I had all but passed across the invisible line between, and in a

moment there would be for evermore nothing and nothing. Then

followed again an empty space as it seemed. And now I am dead and

gone, I said, and shall wander no more. And with that came the agony

of hell, for, lo, still _I_ THOUGHT! And I said to myself, Alas! O

God! for, notwithstanding I no more see or hear or taste or smell or

touch, and my body hath dropped from me, still am I Ahasuerus, the

Wanderer, and must go on and on and on, blind and deaf, through the

unutterable wastes that know not the senses of man--nevermore to

find rest! Alas! death is not death, seeing he slayeth but the

leathern bottle, and spilleth not the wine of life upon the earth.

Alas! alas! for I cannot die! And with that a finger twitched, and I

shouted aloud for joy: I was yet in the body! And I sprang to my

feet jubilant, and, lame and bruised and broken-armed, tottered away

after Death, who yet might hold the secret of eternal repose. I was

alive, but yet there was hope, for Death was yet before me! I was

alive, but I had not died, and who could tell but I might yet find

the lovely night that hath neither clouds nor stars! I had not

passed into the land of the dead and found myself yet living! The

wise men of my nation in the city of the Almains might yet be wise!

And for an hour I rejoiced, and was glad greatly.'"

Thomas Wingfold, Curate V3 · 第 11 / 31 章