by Edgar Saltus
CHAPTER V.
V.
The house of Simon Barlevi was gray, and in shape an oblong. It had a flatroof laid with a plaster of lime, about which was a fretwork of opentiles. Beneath, for doorway, was a recess, surmounted by an arch andcovered with a layer of mud. On each side was a room.
In the recess, sheltered from the sun and visited by the breeze, Simonstood. His garments were white, and where they were not they had beenneatly chalked. On the border of his skirt and sleeves were the regulationfringes, and on his forehead and about his left arm the phylacteries whichPharisees affect. He was not pleasant to the eye, but he was virtuous anda strict observer of the Law.
In the room at his left were mats and painted stools, set in the mannercustomary when guests are awaited. For on that day Simon Barlevi was togive a little feast, to which he had bidden his friends and also a rabbiwhom he had listened to in the synagogue, and with whose ideas he did notat all agree. Save for the mats and stools, and a lamp of red clay, theroom was bare.
In front of the house was a bit of ground enclosed by a hedge of stones;and now as Simon stood in the recess a guest appeared.
"Reulah!" he exclaimed, "the Lord be with you."
And Reulah answering, as etiquette required, "Unto you be peace, and toyour house be peace, and unto all you have be peace," the two friendsclasped hands raised them as though to kiss them, then each withdrawingkissed his own hand, and struck it on his forehead.
Singularly enough, host and guest looked much alike. Simon had theappearance of one conscious of and strong in his own rectitude, whileReulah seemed humbler and more effaced. Otherwise there was not a pin tochoose between them.
To Simon's face had come an expression of perplexity in which there waszeal.
"I was thinking, Reulah," he announced, "of the rabbi who is to breakbread with us to-day. His teaching does not comfort me."
Reulah was unlatching his shoes. "Nor me," he interjected.
"On questions of purity and impurity he seems unscrupulously negligent. Ihave heard that he is a glutton and a wine-bibber. I have heard that hedespises the washing of the hands."
"Whoso does," Reulah threw back, "will be rooted out of the world."
Simon nodded; a smile of protracted amiability hovered in the corners ofhis mouth. For a moment he played with his beard.
"I think," he added, "that he will find here food in plenty, and counselas well."
Reulah closed his eyes benignly, and Simon, in a falsetto which heaffected when he desired to impress, continued in gentle menace:
"But I have certain questions to put to him. Whether water from an uncleanvessel defiles that which is clean. Whether the flesh of a dead body alonedefiles, or the skin and bones as well. I want to see how he will answerthat. Then I may ask his opinion on points of the ritual. Should theincense be lighted before the high-priest appears or as he does so. Is oris not the Sabbath broken by the killing of the Paschal lamb? Why is itlawful to take tithe of corn and wine and oil, and not of anise, cummin,and peppers? In swearing by the Temple, should one not first swear by thegold on the Temple? and in swearing by the altar, should one or should onenot first swear by the sacrifices on it? These things, since he preaches,he must know. If he does not----"
And Simon looked at his friend as who should say: What is there wanting inme?
"If I may be taught another duty I will observe it," said Reulah, sweetly.
At this evidence of meekness Simon grunted. Two other guests wereapproaching. On the edges of their tallith were tassels made of fourthreads which had been drawn through an eyelet and doubled to make eight.Seven of these threads were of equal length, but the eighth was longer,and, twisted into five knots, represented the five books of the Law. Theright hand on the left breast, they saluted their host, and placing inturn a hand under his beard, they kissed it. A buzz of inquiries followed,interrupted by the coming and embracing of newer guests, the unloosing ofsandals, the washing of feet.
As they assembled, one drew Simon aside and whispered importantly. Simon'seyes dilated, astonishment lifted him, visibly, like a lash, and his handstrembled above his head.
"Have you heard," he exclaimed to the others--"have you heard that theNazarene whom I invited here, and who pretends to be a prophet, allowedhis followers to pluck corn on the Sabbath, to thresh it even, anddefended and approved their violation of the Law? Have you heard it? Is ittrue?"
Reulah quaked as one stricken by palsy. "On the Sabbath!" he moaned. "Onthe Sabbath! Why, I would not send a message on Wednesday, lest perchanceit should be delivered on the Sabbath day. Surely it cannot be."
But on that point the others were certain. They were all aware of thescandal; one had been an eye-witness, another had heard the Nazareneassert that he was "Lord of the Day."
"This is monstrous!" Simon cried.
"He declared," the eye-witness continued, "that the Sabbath was made forman, and not man for the Sabbath."
"It is monstrous!" Simon repeated. "The command to do no manner of work isabsolute and emphatic. The killing of a flea on the Sabbath is as heinousas the butchering of a bullock. The preservation of life itself isinhibited. Moses had the son of Shelomith stoned to death for gatheringsticks on it. Shammai occupied six days of the week in thinking how hecould best observe it. It is unlawful to wear a false tooth on theSabbath, and if a tooth ache it is unlawful to rinse the mouth withvinegar."
"Yet," objected Reulah, "it is lawful to hold the vinegar in the mouthprovided you swallow it afterward."
No one paid any attention to him. Simon's indignation increased. Of thethirty-nine Abhoth he quoted twelve; he showed that the Nazarene hadviolated each one of these prohibitions against labor; he showed, too,that by his subsequent speech and bearing he had practically scoffed atthe Toldoth, at the synagogue which had drawn it up as well.
"If the Sadducees were not in power, Jerusalem should hear of this. As itis----"
Whatever resolution he may have intended to express remained unuttered. Asilence fell upon his lips; his guests drew back. At the step stood theNazarene, behind him his treasurer, Judas of Kerioth. For a second onlyJesus hesitated. He stooped, undid his shoes, and moved to where Simonstood. The latter bowed constrainedly.
"Master," he said, "we awaited you."
At this his friends retreated into the little room. Reulah reached themiddle seat of the central mat first and held it, his nostrils quiveringat the envy of the others.
Preceded by their host, Jesus and Judas found places near together, and,the usual ablutions performed, the customary prayers recited, lay, theupper part of the body supported by the left arm, the head raised, thelimbs outstretched.
On the stools were dishes of stewed lentils, milk, and cakes of mashedlocusts. Reulah ate with the tips of his lips, greedily, like a goat.Judas, too, ate with an air of hunger. The Master broke bread absently,his thoughts on other things. These thoughts Simon interrupted.
"Rabbi"--and to his wide mouth came the sneer of one propounding a riddlealready solved--"it is not meet, is it, to thresh on the Sabbath day? Yetsince you permit your followers to do so, how are we to distinguishbetween what is lawful and what is not?"
The Master raised his eyes. The dawn was in them, high noon as well.
"Show yourself a tried money-changer. Choose that which is good metal,reject that which is bad."
Simon blinked as at a sudden light.
"But," he persisted, "in seeking to observe the Law, there is not a jot ortittle in it that can be rejected."
With an acquiescence that was both vague and melancholy, Jesus looked thePharisee in the face.
"Seek those things that are great, and little things will be added untoyou----"
He would have said more, perhaps, but a woman who had entered from therecess approached circuitously, and kneeling beside him let a tear, longas a pearl, fall upon his unsandalled feet.
Judas' heart bounded; he glared at her, hi
s eyes dilating like a leopardpreparing to spring. At once he was back in the circus, gazing into theperils and the splendors of a woman's face, telling himself withreiterated insistence that to hold her to him would be the birthday of hislife; and here, within reach of his hand, was she whom in the din of thechariots he had recognized as the one woman in all the world, and who forone moment the day before had lain unconscious in his arms.
Reulah sat motionless, his mouth agape, a finger extended. "The paramourof Pandera," he stammered at last; and lowering his eyes, he looked at hercovetously from beneath the lids.
Simon, too, sat motionless. There was rage in his expression, hateeven--that hatred which the beautiful excites in the base. Time and againhe had seen her; she was a byword with him; from the height of herresidence she looked down on his mean gray walls; her luxury had been aninsult to his abstinence; and with that zest which a small nature takes inthe humiliation of its superior, he determined, in spite of her manifestabjection, to humiliate her still more.
"If this man," he confided to his neighbor, "has in him anything of thatwhich goes to the making of a prophet, he will divine what manner of womanshe is. If he does not, I will denounce them both." And nourishing hishate he waited yet a while.
The Master seemed depressed. The great secret which in all the world healone possessed may have weighed with him. But he turned to Mary andlooked at her. As he looked she bent yet lower. The marvel of her hair wasunconfined; it fell about her in tangling streams of gold and flame, whileon his feet there fell from her tears such as no woman ever shed before.In the era of primitive hospitality the daughters of kings had notdisdained to unlatch the sandals of their fathers' guests; but now, at thefeet of Mercy, for the first time Repentance knelt. And still the tearscontinued, unstanched and undetained. Grief, something keener stillperhaps, had claimed her as its own. She bent lower. Then Misery looked upat Compassion.
The Master stretched his hand. For a moment it rested on her head. Shequivered and clutched at her throat; and as he withdrew that hand, inwhich all panaceas were, from her gown she took a little box, opened it,and dropping the contents where the tears had fallen, with a suddenmovement she caught her hair and poured its lava on his feet.
An aroma of beckoning oases filled the small room, passed into the recess,mounted to the roof, pervaded and penetrated it, and escaped to the skyabove.
And still she wept. Judas no longer saw her tears, he heard them. Theyfell swiftly one after another, like the ripple of the rain. A sob brokefrom her, but in it was something which foretokened peace, the sob whichcomes to those who have conceived a despairing hope, and suddenlyintercept its fulfilment. Her hands trembled; the little box fell from herand broke. The noise it made exorcised the silence.
The Master turned to his host. "I have a word to say to you."
Simon stroked his beard and bowed.
"There was once a man who had two debtors. One owed him five hundredpence, the other fifty. Both were poor, and because of their poverty thedebt of each he forgave."
For an instant Jesus paused and seemed to muse; then, with that indulgencewhich was to illuminate the world, "Tell me, Simon," he inquired, "whichwas the more grateful?"
Simon assumed an air of perplexity, and glanced cunningly from one guestto another. Presently he laughed outright.
"Why, the one who owed the most, of course."
Reulah suppressed a giggle. By the expression of the others it was patentthat to them also the jest appealed. Only Judas did not seem to haveheard; he sat bolt upright, fumbling Mary with his violent eyes.
The Master made a gesture of assent, and turned to where Mary crouched.She was staring at him with that look which the magnetized share withanimals.
"You see her?"
Straightening himself, he leaned on his elbow and scrutinized his host.
"Simon, I am your guest. When I entered here there was no kiss to greetme, there was no oil for my head, no water for my feet. But this womanwhom you despise has not ceased to embrace them. She has washed them withher tears, anointed them with nard, and dried them with her hair. Hersins, it may be, are many, but, Simon, they are forgiven----"
Simon, Reulah, the others, muttered querulously. To forgive sins wasindeed an attribute which no one, save the Eternal, could arrogate tohimself.
"--for she has loved much."
And turning again to Mary, who still crouched at his side, he added:
"Your sins are forgiven. Go now, and in peace."
But the fierce surprise of the Pharisees was not to be shocked intosilence. Reulah showed his teeth; they were pointed and treacherous as ajackal's. Simon loudly asserted disapproval and wonder too.
"I am amazed----" he began.
The Master checked him:
"The beginning of truth is amazement. Wonder, then, at what you see; forhe that wonders shall reign, and he that reigns shall rest."
The music of his voice heightened the beauty of the speech. On Mary itfell and rested as had the touch of his hand.
"Messiah, my Lord!" she cried. "In your breast is the future, in yourheart the confidence of God. Let me but tell you. There are those thatlive whose lives are passed; the tombs do not hold all of those that aredead. I was dead; you brought me to life. I had no conscience; you gave meone, for I was dead," she insisted. "And yet," she added, with a littlemoan, so human, so sincere, that it might have stirred a Caesar, let alonea Christ, "not wholly dead. No, no, dear Lord, not wholly dead."
Again her tears gushed forth, profuser and more abundant than before; herfrail body shook with sobs, her fingers intertwined.
"Not wholly dead," she kept repeating. "No, no, not wholly dead."
Jesus touched his treasurer.
"She is not herself. Lead her away; see her to her home." And that theothers might hear, and profit as well, he added, in a higher key,"Deference to a woman is always due."
And to those words, which were to found chivalry and banish the boor,Judas led Mary from the room.