by Eugène Sue
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, i
f 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.
CHAPTER IV.
WHEN GENEVIEVE, WITH her mistress, was brought back to the house of Seigneur Chusa, the latter said to his wife, in an angry tone: ‘Seek your chamber.’
Aurelia bent down her head, sighing, obeyed, and threw on her slave a sad look of adieu. Gremion then took Genevieve by the arm, and led her to a low room, a kind of cellar, destined for holding the leather sacks filled with oil, wine, and other provisions. This place was reached by descending a few steps. Genevieve’s master pushed her so rudely that she slipped, and fell, from step to step, to the ground, whilst Gremion closed the massive door of this low chamber. The young woman raised herself in pain, seated herself on the stone, and at first wept bitterly. Her tears then became almost sweet, when she thought that she suffered for having gone to listen to the words of the young man of Nazareth, so kind to the poor and the slaves, so merciful to the repentant, so severe to the wicked and the hypocritical.
Brought up in the druidical faith, which her mother had transmitted to her, as we may say, with her life, Genevieve had not the less confidence in the precepts of Mary’s son, though he professed another religion than that of the druids, always prescribed, and venerated in Gaul, besides, Jesus believed, it was said, with the druids, that on leaving this world we should live again in the spirit and in the body; since, according to his religion, he spoke of the resurrection of the dead. Lastly, despite the sublimity of the druidical faith, which relieves man from the fear of death, by teaching him that there is no death, Genevieve could not find in the precepts of the Gallic religion that tender, paternal, and merciful sentiment, with which the words of Jesus were so often impressed. The slave was giving way to these reflections, when she saw the door of the cellar open where she was confined. Gremion, her master, returned, accompanied by two men; one held a bundle of cords, the other a leather scourge. Genevieve had never seen these men; they wore foreign garments. — Seigneur Gremion descended the first steps of the staircase, and said to Genevieve: ‘Undress yourself!’ The slave looked at her master with as much surprise as fear, scarcely believing what she had heard. He continued: ‘Undress yourself, otherwise these men, the assistants of the town executioner, shall tear off your clothes, to flog you as you deserve!’
This cruel punishment, so often suffered by female slaves, Genevieve, thanks to the kindness of the gods and of her mistress, had not yet undergone; thus, in her terror, she could only join her hands, stretch them towards her master, and supplicating, fall upon her knees. But Gremion, standing aside to make way for the two men who had remained on the top step of the staircase, said to them, ‘Undress her! flog her well till the blood comes. She shall remember assisting at the predictions of this cursed Nazarene.’
Genevieve was at that time scarcely twenty-three, and her husband, Fergan, had told her sometimes that she was pretty. She was, despite her tears, her prayers, and powerless resistance, stripped of her garments, bound to one of the pillars of the room, and presently her body was wealed with the lashes of the whip. She had at first hoped that shame and horror would deprive her of all consciousness. It was not so; but she forgot the pain of the lashes, on finding herself a prey to the curiosity of her tormentors, and on hearing the infamous jests they exchanged whilst flogging her. Gremion, standing up with his arms crossed, said, laughing diabolically: ‘Did the Nazarene, the famous Messiah, who dabbles in prophesying, predict to you what would happen, Genevieve? Think you he was right in proclaiming the slave to be equal with his master? By Jupiter! I now regret I did not have you flogged in the middle of the public place. ’Twould have been a good lesson given on your back to these brigands who believe in the seditious insolences of their chief and friend, Jesus.’
When the two executioners were weary of flogging, one of them unbound Genevieve, and her master said to her:
‘You shall not leave this place for a week; during that time my wife shall do without you; she shall wait upon herself, this shall be her punishment.’
And Gremion, retiring with the two men, left Genevieve alone. It was now no longer the tender and merciful words of Jesus that came to the mind of the slave, as they had come to her before her punishment. It was the words of vengeance and of curses which he had also pronounced the same morning against the wicked and the oppressors.
During the long hours she passed alone, with the remembrance of her shame, she made to herself an oath, that if ever the gods willed that she should be a mother, and that she could keep her child with her, she would strive to inspire in him a horror of slavery, and a hatred to the Romans, instead of allowing to degenerate in his young mind these proud resentments, as they had degenerated in her husband, Fergan, whom she loved so, despite the weakness of his character, he who had descended, nevertheless, from the powerful and untameable race of Joel, the brenn of the haughty tribe of Karnak.
Genevieve had been for three days confined in the underground room of the house, where Gremion, her master, had brought her every morning a little food, when one night very late, the door of the slave’s prison opened; she saw her mistress, Aurelia, enter, holding a lamp in one hand, and with the other a packet, which she deposited on the steps of the staircase.
‘Poor woman! you have greatly suffered on my account,’ said Aurelia, whose eyes were moistened with tears, on approaching Genevieve. The latter, despite the kindness of her mistress, could not help saying to her with bitterness:
‘If you had a daughter, and men had stripped her of her clothes to beat her with a whip, by order of a master, what would you then say of slavery?’
‘Genevieve, you accuse me, and I am not the cause of these cruelties!’
‘It is not you I accuse; it is slavery; you are kind to me. But still, look how I have been treated.’
‘In vain, for the last three days, have I sought your pardon from my husband,’ said Aurelia, her voice full of compassion.
‘He has refused me: I have entreated him to allow me to see you; he was deaf to my prayers; besides, he always carries the keys of the prison about him.’
‘And how have you obtained possession of it to-night?’
‘He had placed it under his pillow; I profited by his sleep, and I am come.’
‘I have suffered much more of shame than of pain,’ continued Genevieve, overcome by the grief of her mistress; ‘but your kind words console me!’
‘Listen, Genevieve, I am not here simply to console you; you can fly from this house and render a great service to the young man of Nazareth, perhaps even save his life.’
‘What say you, my dear mistress?’ exclaimed Genevieve; thinking less of her liberty than of the service she might render to the Nazarene.
‘Oh! speak; my life, if necessary, for him who said that “one day the chains of the slave shall be broken!”’
‘Since the night we passed listening to the predictions of Jesus, Jane and I have not met; the Seigneur Chusa had prevented her from leaving her house to come here; to-night, however, yielding to her prayer, he brought her here, and whilst he was conversing with my husband, do you know what Jane told me?’
‘About the young man of Nazareth?’
‘Yes.’
‘Alas! some new persecution!’
‘He is betrayed! They will arrest him this very night, and kill him!’
‘Betrayed! he! and by whom?’
‘By one of his disciples.’
‘Ah! the infamous wretch!’
‘Then Chusa, already triumphing in the death of this poor Nazarene, has revealed every thing this evening to Jane, to enjoy maliciously the affliction this sad news will cause her; this then is what passed; the pharisees, doctors of law, senators, and high priests, all exasperated by the last (those we heard), assembled at the house of the high priest Caiphus, and sought for means to surprise the Nazarene; but fearing a popular risi
ng if they arrested him yesterday, a holiday in Jerusalem, they have deferred till to-night the execution of their wicked designs.’
‘What! to-night? This very night?’
‘Yes, a traitor, one of his disciples, named Judas, is to betray him into their hands.’
‘One of those who, the other night, accompanied him to the tavern of the “Wild Ass.”’
‘The one whose gloomy and treacherous figure you remarked. Judas then went to the high priests and the doctors of law, and said to them: “Give me money, and I will deliver the Nazarene to you.”’
‘The wretch!’
‘He has agreed for thirty pieces of silver from the pharisees; and at the present moment perhaps the poor young man, who suspects nothing, is a victim of the treason.’
‘Alas! if such is the case, what service can I render him?’
‘Listen again, this is what Jane said to me to-night: “It was whilst repairing to your house, dear Aurelia, that my husband informed me, with a cruel joy, of the evil with which Jesus is threatened. Knowing that, watched as I am, I have no means of warning him, for our servants so much fear the Seigneur Chusa, that despite my prayers and offers of gold, none dared leave the house to find Jesus and apprise him of the danger; besides, the night advances, an idea struck me; your slave Genevieve appears to have as much courage as devotedness. Could she not serve us on this occasion?”
‘I immediately informed Jane of the cruel vengeance that my husband had exercised towards you; but Jane, far from renouncing her project, asked me where Gremion placed the key of the prison: “Under his pillow,” I answered her.’
‘Endeavor to take it whilst he sleeps,’ said Jane to me. ‘If you succeed in getting possession of it, go and release Genevieve; it will be easy for you afterwards to get her out of the house; she will soon arrive at the tavern of the ‘Wild Ass,’ and there, perhaps, they will tell her where the young man may be found.’