by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER IX
Next morning, about the second hour, two men rode full speed tothe doors of Ben-Hur's tents, and dismounting, asked to see him.He was not yet risen, but gave directions for their admission.
"Peace to you, brethren," he said, for they were of his Galileans,and trusted officers. "Will you be seated?"
"Nay," the senior replied, bluntly, "to sit and be at ease isto let the Nazarene die. Rise, son of Judah, and go with us.The judgment has been given. The tree of the cross is alreadyat Golgotha."
Ben-Hur stared at them.
"The cross!" was all he could for the moment say.
"They took him last night, and tried him," the man continued."At dawn they led him before Pilate. Twice the Roman deniedhis guilt; twice he refused to give him over. At last he washedhis hands, and said, 'Be it upon you then;' and they answered--"
"Who answered?"
"They--the priests and people--'His blood be upon us and ourchildren.'"
"Holy father Abraham!" cried Ben-Hur; "a Roman kinder to anIsraelite than his own kin! And if--ah, if he should indeedbe the son of God, what shall ever wash his blood from theirchildren? It must not be--'tis time to fight!"
His face brightened with resolution, and he clapped his hands.
"The horses--and quickly!" he said to the Arab who answered thesignal. "And bid Amrah send me fresh garments, and bring my sword!It is time to die for Israel, my friends. Tarry without till I come."
He ate a crust, drank a cup of wine, and was soon upon the road.
"Whither would you go first?" asked the Galilean.
"To collect the legions."
"Alas!" the man replied, throwing up his hands.
"Why alas?"
"Master"--the man spoke with shame--"master, I and my friendhere are all that are faithful. The rest do follow the priests."
"Seeking what?" and Ben-Hur drew rein.
"To kill him."
"Not the Nazarene?"
"You have said it."
Ben-Hur looked slowly from one man to the other. He was hearingagain the question of the night before: "The cup my Father hathgiven me, shall I not drink it?" In the ear of the Nazarene he wasputting his own question, "If I bring thee rescue, wilt thou acceptit?" He was saying to himself, "This death may not be averted.The man has been travelling towards it with full knowledge fromthe day he began his mission: it is imposed by a will higherthan his; whose but the Lord's! If he is consenting, if he goesto it voluntarily, what shall another do?" Nor less did Ben-Hursee the failure of the scheme he had built upon the fidelity ofthe Galileans; their desertion, in fact, left nothing more of it.But how singular it should happen that morning of all others! A dreadseized him. It was possible his scheming, and labor, and expenditure oftreasure might have been but blasphemous contention with God. When hepicked up the reins and said, "Let us go, brethren," all before himwas uncertainty. The faculty of resolving quickly, without whichone cannot be a hero in the midst of stirring scenes, was numbwithin him.
"Let us go, brethren; let us to Golgotha."
They passed through excited crowds of people going south,like themselves. All the country north of the city seemedaroused and in motion.
Hearing that the procession with the condemned might be met withsomewhere near the great white towers left by Herod, the threefriends rode thither, passing round southeast of Akra. In thevalley below the Pool of Hezekiah, passage-way against the multitudebecame impossible, and they were compelled to dismount, and takeshelter behind the corner of a house and wait.
The waiting was as if they were on a river bank, watching a floodgo by, for such the people seemed.
There are certain chapters in the First Book of this story whichwere written to give the reader an idea of the composition of theJewish nationality as it was in the time of Christ. They were alsowritten in anticipation of this hour and scene; so that he who hasread them with attention can now see all Ben-Hur saw of the goingto the crucifixion--a rare and wonderful sight!
Half an hour--an hour--the flood surged by Ben-Hur and his companions,within arm's reach, incessant, undiminished. At the end of that timehe could have said, "I have seen all the castes of Jerusalem, all thesects of Judea, all the tribes of Israel, and all the nationalitiesof earth represented by them." The Libyan Jew went by, and the Jewof Egypt, and the Jew from the Rhine; in short, Jews from all Eastcountries and all West countries, and all islands within commercialconnection; they went by on foot, on horseback, on camels, in littersand chariots, and with an infinite variety of costumes, yet with thesame marvellous similitude of features which to-day particularizesthe children of Israel, tried as they have been by climates andmodes of life; they went by speaking all known tongues, for by thatmeans only were they distinguishable group from group; they went byin haste--eager, anxious, crowding--all to behold one poor Nazarenedie, a felon between felons.
These were the many, but they were not all.
Borne along with the stream were thousands not Jews--thousandshating and despising them--Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Syrians,Africans, Egyptians, Easterns. So that, studying the mass,it seemed the whole world was to be represented, and, in thatsense, present at the crucifixion.
The going was singularly quiet. A hoof-stroke upon a rock, the glideand rattle of revolving wheels, voices in conversation, and now andthen a calling voice, were all the sounds heard above the rustle ofthe mighty movement. Yet was there upon every countenance the lookwith which men make haste to see some dreadful sight, some suddenwreck, or ruin, or calamity of war. And by such signs Ben-Hur judgedthat these were the strangers in the city come up to the Passover,who had had no part in the trial of the Nazarene, and might be hisfriends.
At length, from the direction of the great towers, Ben-Hur heard, atfirst faint in the distance, a shouting of many men.
"Hark! they are coming now," said one of his friends.
The people in the street halted to hear; but as the cry rang onover their heads, they looked at each other, and in shudderingsilence moved along.
The shouting drew nearer each moment; and the air was already fullof it and trembling, when Ben-Hur saw the servants of Simonidescoming with their master in his chair, and Esther walking by hisside; a covered litter was next behind them.
"Peace to you, O Simonides--and to you, Esther," said Ben-Hur,meeting them. "If you are for Golgotha, stay until the processionpasses; I will then go with you. There is room to turn in by thehouse here."
The merchant's large head rested heavily upon his breast; rousinghimself, he answered, "Speak to Balthasar; his pleasure will bemine. He is in the litter."
Ben-Hur hastened to draw aside the curtain. The Egyptian was lyingwithin, his wan face so pinched as to appear like a dead man's.The proposal was submitted to him.
"Can we see him?" he inquired, faintly.
"The Nazarene? yes; he must pass within a few feet of us."
"Dear Lord!" the old man cried, fervently. "Once more, once more!Oh, it is a dreadful day for the world!"
Shortly the whole party were in waiting under shelter of the house.They said but little, afraid, probably, to trust their thoughtsto each other; everything was uncertain, and nothing so much so asopinions. Balthasar drew himself feebly from the litter, and stoodsupported by a servant; Esther and Ben-Hur kept Simonides company.
Meantime the flood poured along, if anything, more denselythan before; and the shouting came nearer, shrill up in the air,hoarse along the earth, and cruel. At last the procession was up.
"See!" said Ben-Hur, bitterly; "that which cometh now is Jerusalem."
The advance was in possession of an army of boys, hooting andscreaming, "The King of the Jews! Room, room for the King ofthe Jews!"
Simonides watched them as they whirled and danced along, like acloud of summer insects, and said, gravely, "When these come totheir inheritance, son of Hur, alas for the city of Solomon!"
A band of legionaries fully armed followed next, marching insturdy indifference, the glory of burnished bras
s about themthe while.
Then came the NAZARENE!
He was nearly dead. Every few steps he staggered as if he wouldfall. A stained gown badly torn hung from his shoulders over aseamless undertunic. His bare feet left red splotches upon thestones. An inscription on a board was tied to his neck. A crownof thorns had been crushed hard down upon his head, making cruelwounds from which streams of blood, now dry and blackened, had runover his face and neck. The long hair, tangled in the thorns,was clotted thick. The skin, where it could be seen, was ghastlywhite. His hands were tied before him. Back somewhere in the cityhe had fallen exhausted under the transverse beam of his cross,which, as a condemned person, custom required him to bear to theplace of execution; now a countryman carried the burden in hisstead. Four soldiers went with him as a guard against the mob,who sometimes, nevertheless, broke through, and struck him withsticks, and spit upon him. Yet no sound escaped him, neitherremonstrance nor groan; nor did he look up until he was nearly infront of the house sheltering Ben-Hur and his friends, all of whomwere moved with quick compassion. Esther clung to her father; and he,strong of will as he was, trembled. Balthasar fell down speechless.Even Ben-Hur cried out, "O my God! my God!" Then, as if he divinedtheir feelings or heard the exclamation, the Nazarene turned hiswan face towards the party, and looked at them each one, so theycarried the look in memory through life. They could see he wasthinking of them, not himself, and the dying eyes gave them theblessing he was not permitted to speak.
"Where are thy legions, son of Hur?" asked Simonides, aroused.
"Hannas can tell thee better than I."
"What, faithless?"
"All but these two."
"Then all is lost, and this good man must die!"
The face of the merchant knit convulsively as he spoke, and hishead sank upon his breast. He had borne his part in Ben-Hur'slabors well, and he had been inspired by the same hopes, now blownout never to be rekindled.
Two other men succeeded the Nazarene bearing cross-beams.
"Who are these?" Ben-Hur asked of the Galileans.
"Thieves appointed to die with the Nazarene," they replied.
Next in the procession stalked a mitred figure clad all in thegolden vestments of the high-priest. Policemen from the Templecurtained him round about; and after him, in order, strode thesanhedrim, and a long array of priests, the latter in their plainwhite garments, overwrapped by abnets of many folds and gorgeouscolors.
"The son-in-law of Hannas," said Ben-Hur, in a low voice.
"Caiaphas! I have seen him," Simonides replied, adding, after apause during which he thoughtfully watched the haughty pontiff,"And now am I convinced. With such assurance as proceeds from clearenlightenment of the spirit--with absolute assurance--now know Ithat he who first goes yonder with the inscription about his neck iswhat the inscription proclaims him--KING OF THE JEWS. A common man,an impostor, a felon, was never thus waited upon. For look! Here arethe nations--Jerusalem, Israel. Here is the ephod, here the bluerobe with its fringe, and purple pomegranates, and golden bells,not seen in the street since the day Jaddua went out to meet theMacedonian--proofs all that this Nazarene is King. Would I couldrise and go after him!"
Ben-Hur listened surprised; and directly, as if himself awakeningto his unusual display of feeling, Simonides said, impatiently,
"Speak to Balthasar, I pray you, and let us begone. The vomit ofJerusalem is coming."
Then Esther spoke.
"I see some women there, and they are weeping. Who are they?"
Following the pointing of her hand, the party beheld four womenin tears; one of them leaned upon the arm of a man of aspect notunlike the Nazarene's. Presently Ben-Hur answered,
"The man is the disciple whom the Nazarene loves the best of all;she who leans upon his arm is Mary, the Master's mother; the othersare friendly women of Galilee."
Esther pursued the mourners with glistening eyes until the multitudereceived them out of sight.
It may be the reader will fancy the foregoing snatches of conversationwere had in quiet; but it was not so. The talking was, for the mostpart, like that indulged by people at the seaside under the soundof the surf; for to nothing else can the clamor of this divisionof the mob be so well likened.
The demonstration was the forerunner of those in which, scarcethirty years later, under rule of the factions, the Holy Citywas torn to pieces; it was quite as great in numbers, as fanaticaland bloodthirsty; boiled and raved, and had in it exactly the sameelements--servants, camel-drivers, marketmen, gate-keepers, gardeners,dealers in fruits and wines, proselytes, and foreigners not proselytes,watchmen and menials from the Temple, thieves, robbers, and the myriadnot assignable to any class, but who, on such occasions as this,appeared no one could say whence, hungry and smelling of cavesand old tombs--bareheaded wretches with naked arms and legs,hair and beard in uncombed mats, and each with one garment thecolor of clay; beasts with abysmal mouths, in outcry effectiveas lions calling each other across desert spaces. Some of themhad swords; a greater number flourished spears and javelins;though the weapons of the many were staves and knotted clubs,and slings, for which latter selected stones were stored inscrips, and sometimes in sacks improvised from the foreskirtsof their dirty tunics. Among the mass here and there appearedpersons of high degree--scribes, elders, rabbis, Pharisees withbroad fringing, Sadducees in fine cloaks--serving for the time asprompters and directors. If a throat tired of one cry, they inventedanother for it; if brassy lungs showed signs of collapse, they setthem going again; and yet the clamor, loud and continuous as itwas, could have been reduced to a few syllables--King of the Jews!Room for the King of the Jews!--Defiler of the Temple!--Blasphemerof God!--Crucify him, crucify him! And of these cries the last oneseemed in greatest favor, because, doubtless, it was more directlyexpressive of the wish of the mob, and helped to better articulateits hatred of the Nazarene.
"Come," said Simonides, when Balthasar was ready to proceed--"come,let us forward."
Ben-Hur did not hear the call. The appearance of the part ofthe procession then passing, its brutality and hunger for life,were reminding him of the Nazarene--his gentleness, and the manycharities he had seen him do for suffering men. Suggestions begetsuggestions; so he remembered suddenly his own great indebtednessto the man; the time he himself was in the hands of a Romanguard going, as was supposed, to a death as certain and almost asterrible as this one of the cross; the cooling drink he had at thewell by Nazareth, and the divine expression of the face of him whogave it; the later goodness, the miracle of Palm-Sunday; and withthese recollections, the thought of his present powerlessness togive back help for help or make return in kind stung him keenly,and he accused himself. He had not done all he might; he couldhave watched with the Galileans, and kept them true and ready;and this--ah! this was the moment to strike! A blow well givennow would not merely disperse the mob and set the Nazarenefree; it would be a trumpet-call to Israel, and precipitatethe long-dreamt-of war for freedom. The opportunity was going;the minutes were bearing it away; and if lost! God of Abraham!Was there nothing to be done--nothing?
That instant a party of Galileans caught his eye. He rushed throughthe press and overtook them.
"Follow me," he said. "I would have speech with you."
The men obeyed him, and when they were under shelter of the house,he spoke again:
"You are of those who took my swords, and agreed with me to strikefor freedom and the King who was coming. You have the swords now,and now is the time to strike with them. Go, look everywhere,and find our brethren, and tell them to meet me at the tree ofthe cross making ready for the Nazarene. Haste all of you! Nay,stand not so! The Nazarene is the King, and freedom dies with him."
They looked at him respectfully, but did not move.
"Hear you?" he asked.
Then one of them replied,
"Son of Judah"--by that name they knew him--"son of Judah, it isyou who are deceived, not we or our brethren who have yourswords. The Nazarene is not the King; neither has he t
he spiritof a king. We were with him when he came into Jerusalem; we sawhim in the Temple; he failed himself, and us, and Israel; at theGate Beautiful he turned his back upon God and refused the throneof David. He is not King, and Galilee is not with him. He shalldie the death. But hear you, son of Judah. We have your swords,and we are ready now to draw them and strike for freedom; and sois Galilee. Be it for freedom, O son of Judah, for freedom! andwe will meet you at the tree of the cross."
The sovereign moment of his life was upon Ben-Hur. Could he havetaken the offer and said the word, history might have been otherthan it is; but then it would have been history ordered by men,not God--something that never was, and never will be. A confusionfell upon him; he knew not how, though afterwards he attributedit to the Nazarene; for when the Nazarene was risen, he understoodthe death was necessary to faith in the resurrection, without whichChristianity would be an empty husk. The confusion, as has been said,left him without the faculty of decision; he stood helpless--wordlesseven. Covering his face with his hand, he shook with the conflictbetween his wish, which was what he would have ordered, and thepower that was upon him.
"Come; we are waiting for you," said Simonides, the fourth time.
Thereupon he walked mechanically after the chair and the litter.Esther walked with him. Like Balthasar and his friends, the WiseMen, the day they went to the meeting in the desert, he was beingled along the way.
CHAPTER X
When the party--Balthasar, Simonides, Ben-Hur, Esther, and the twofaithful Galileans--reached the place of crucifixion, Ben-Hur wasin advance leading them. How they had been able to make way throughthe great press of excited people, he never knew; no more did he knowthe road by which they came or the time it took them to come. He hadwalked in total unconsciousness, neither hearing nor seeing anybodyor anything, and without a thought of where he was going, or theghostliest semblance of a purpose in his mind. In such conditiona little child could have done as much as he to prevent the awfulcrime he was about to witness. The intentions of God are alwaysstrange to us; but not more so than the means by which they arewrought out, and at last made plain to our belief.
Ben-Hur came to a stop; those following him also stopped. As acurtain rises before an audience, the spell holding him inits sleep-awake rose, and he saw with a clear understanding.
There was a space upon the top of a low knoll rounded like a skull,and dry, dusty, and without vegetation, except some scrubby hyssop.The boundary of the space was a living wall of men, with menbehind struggling, some to look over, others to look throughit. An inner wall of Roman soldiery held the dense outer wallrigidly to its place. A centurion kept eye upon the soldiers.Up to the very line so vigilantly guarded Ben-Hur had been led;at the line he now stood, his face to the northwest. The knollwas the old Aramaic Golgotha--in Latin, Calvaria; anglicized,Calvary; translated, The Skull.
On its slopes, in the low places, on the swells and higher hills,the earth sparkled with a strange enamelling. Look where he wouldoutside the walled space, he saw no patch of brown soil, no rock,no green thing; he saw only thousands of eyes in ruddy faces; off alittle way in the perspective only ruddy faces without eyes; off alittle farther only a broad, broad circle, which the nearer viewinstructed him was also of faces. And this was the ensemble ofthree millions of people; under it three millions of heartsthrobbing with passionate interest in what was taking placeupon the knoll; indifferent as to the thieves, caring only forthe Nazarene, and for him only as he was an object of hate orfear or curiosity--he who loved them all, and was about to diefor them.
In the spectacle of a great assemblage of people there are alwaysthe bewilderment and fascination one feels while looking over astretch of sea in agitation, and never had this one been exceeded;yet Ben-Hur gave it but a passing glance, for that which was goingon in the space described would permit no division of his interest.
Up on the knoll so high as to be above the living wall, and visible overthe heads of an attending company of notables, conspicuous because of hismitre and vestments and his haughty air, stood the high priest. Up theknoll still higher, up quite to the round summit, so as to be seenfar and near, was the Nazarene, stooped and suffering, but silent.The wit among the guard had complemented the crown upon his headby putting a reed in his hand for a sceptre. Clamors blew uponhim like blasts--laughter--execrations--sometimes both togetherindistinguishably. A man--ONLY a man, O reader, would have chargedthe blasts with the remainder of his love for the race, and let itgo forever.
All the eyes then looking were fixed upon the Nazarene. It may havebeen pity with which he was moved; whatever the cause, Ben-Hur wasconscious of a change in his feelings. A conception of somethingbetter than the best of this life--something so much better that itcould serve a weak man with strength to endure agonies of spirit aswell as of body; something to make death welcome--perhaps anotherlife purer than this one--perhaps the spirit-life which Balthasarheld to so fast, began to dawn upon his mind clearer and clearer,bringing to him a certain sense that, after all, the mission ofthe Nazarene was that of guide across the boundary for such asloved him; across the boundary to where his kingdom was set upand waiting for him. Then, as something borne through the airout of the almost forgotten, he heard again, or seemed to hear,the saying of the Nazarene,
"I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE."
And the words repeated themselves over and over, and took form,and the dawn touched them with its light, and filled them witha new meaning. And as men repeat a question to grasp and fix themeaning, he asked, gazing at the figure on the hill fainting underits crown, Who the Resurrection? and who the Life?
"I AM,"
the figure seemed to say--and say it for him; for instantly he wassensible of a peace such as he had never known--the peace which isthe end of doubt and mystery, and the beginning of faith and loveand clear understanding.
From this dreamy state Ben-Hur was aroused by the sound of hammering.On the summit of the knoll he observed then what had escaped himbefore--some soldiers and workmen preparing the crosses. The holesfor planting the trees were ready, and now the transverse beamswere being fitted to their places.
"Bid the men make haste," said the high-priest to the centurion."These"--and he pointed to the Nazarene--"must be dead by thegoing-down of the sun, and buried that the land may not be defiled.Such is the Law."
With a better mind, a soldier went to the Nazarene and offeredhim something to drink, but he refused the cup. Then another wentto him and took from his neck the board with the inscription uponit, which he nailed to the tree of the cross--and the preparationwas complete.
"The crosses are ready," said the centurion to the pontiff,who received the report with a wave of the hand and the reply,
"Let the blasphemer go first. The Son of God should be able tosave himself. We will see."
The people to whom the preparation in its several stages was visible,and who to this time had assailed the hill with incessant cries ofimpatience, permitted a lull which directly became a universal hush.The part of the infliction most shocking, at least to the thought,was reached--the men were to be nailed to their crosses. When forthat purpose the soldiers laid their hands upon the Nazarene first,a shudder passed through the great concourse; the most brutalizedshrank with dread. Afterwards there were those who said the airsuddenly chilled and made them shiver.
"How very still it is!" Esther said, as she put her arm about herfather's neck.
And remembering the torture he himself had suffered, he drew herface down upon his breast, and sat trembling.
"Avoid it, Esther, avoid it!" he said. "I know not but all whostand and see it--the innocent as well as the guilty--may becursed from this hour."
Balthasar sank upon his knees.
"Son of Hur," said Simonides, with increasing excitement--"son ofHur, if Jehovah stretch not forth his hand, and quickly, Israel islost--and we are lost."
Ben-Hur answered, calmly, "I have been in a dream, Simonides,and heard in it why all this should be, and why it should
go on.It is the will of the Nazarene--it is God's will. Let us do asthe Egyptian here--let us hold our peace and pray."
As he looked up on the knoll again, the words were wafted to himthrough the awful stillness--
"I AM THE RESURRECTION AND THE LIFE."
He bowed reverently as to a person speaking.
Up on the summit meantime the work went on. The guard tookthe Nazarene's clothes from him; so that he stood before themillions naked. The stripes of the scourging he had received inthe early morning were still bloody upon his back; yet he was laidpitilessly down, and stretched upon the cross--first, the arms uponthe transverse beam; the spikes were sharp--a few blows, and theywere driven through the tender palms; next, they drew his knees upuntil the soles of the feet rested flat upon the tree; then theyplaced one foot upon the other, and one spike fixed both of themfast. The dulled sound of the hammering was heard outside theguarded space; and such as could not hear, yet saw the hammeras it fell, shivered with fear. And withal not a groan, or cry,or word of remonstrance from the sufferer: nothing at which anenemy could laugh; nothing a lover could regret.
"Which way wilt thou have him faced?" asked a soldier, bluntly.
"Towards the Temple," the pontiff replied. "In dying I would havehim see the holy house hath not suffered by him."
The workmen put their hands to the cross, and carried it, burdenand all, to the place of planting. At a word, they dropped the treeinto the hole; and the body of the Nazarene also dropped heavily,and hung by the bleeding hands. Still no cry of pain--only theexclamation divinest of all recorded exclamations,
"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
The cross, reared now above all other objects, and standing singlyout against the sky, was greeted with a burst of delight; and allwho could see and read the writing upon the board over the Nazarene'shead made haste to decipher it. Soon as read, the legend was adoptedby them and communicated, and presently the whole mighty concoursewas ringing the salutation from side to side, and repeating it withlaughter and groans,
"King of the Jews! Hail, King of the Jews!"
The pontiff, with a clearer idea of the import of the inscription,protested against it, but in vain; so the titled King, looking fromthe knoll with dying eyes, must have had the city of his fathersat rest below him--she who had so ignominiously cast him out.
The sun was rising rapidly to noon; the hills bared their brownbreasts lovingly to it; the more distant mountains rejoiced inthe purple with which it so regally dressed them. In the city,the temples, palaces, towers, pinnacles, and all points of beautyand prominence seemed to lift themselves into the unrivalledbrilliance, as if they knew the pride they were giving the manywho from time to time turned to look at them. Suddenly a dimnessbegan to fill the sky and cover the earth--at first no more thana scarce perceptible fading of the day; a twilight out of time;an evening gliding in upon the splendors of noon. But it deepened,and directly drew attention; whereat the noise of the shouting andlaughter fell off, and men, doubting their senses, gazed at eachother curiously: then they looked to the sun again; then at themountains, getting farther away; at the sky and the near landscape,sinking in shadow; at the hill upon which the tragedy was enacting;and from all these they gazed at each other again, and turned pale,and held their peace.
"It is only a mist or passing cloud," Simonides said soothingly toEsther, who was alarmed. "It will brighten presently."
Ben-Hur did not think so.
"It is not a mist or a cloud," he said. "The spirits who live inthe air--the prophets and saints--are at work in mercy to themselvesand nature. I say to you, O Simonides, truly as God lives, he whohangs yonder is the Son of God."
And leaving Simonides lost in wonder at such a speech from him,he went where Balthasar was kneeling near by, and laid his handupon the good man's shoulder.
"O wise Egyptian, hearken! Thou alone wert right--the Nazarene isindeed the Son of God."
Balthasar drew him down to him, and replied, feebly, "I saw hima child in the manger where he was first laid; it is not strangethat I knew him sooner than thou; but oh that I should live to seethis day! Would I had died with my brethren! Happy Melchior! Happy,happy Gaspar!"
"Comfort thee!" said Ben-Hur. "Doubtless they too are here."
The dimness went on deepening into obscurity, and that intopositive darkness, but without deterring the bolder spirits uponthe knoll. One after the other the thieves were raised on theircrosses, and the crosses planted. The guard was then withdrawn,and the people set free closed in upon the height, and surgedup it, like a converging wave. A man might take a look, when anew-comer would push him on, and take his place, to be in turnpushed on--and there were laughter and ribaldry and revilements,all for the Nazarene.
"Ha, ha! If thou be King of the Jews, save thyself," a soldiershouted.
"Ay," said a priest, "if he will come down to us now, we willbelieve in him."
Others wagged their heads wisely, saying, "He would destroy theTemple, and rebuild it in three days, but cannot save himself."
Others still: "He called himself the Son of God; let us see ifGod will have him."
What all there is in prejudice no one has ever said. The Nazarenehad never harmed the people; far the greater part of them hadnever seen him except in this his hour of calamity; yet--singularcontrariety!--they loaded him with their curses, and gave theirsympathy to the thieves.
The supernatural night, dropped thus from the heavens, affectedEsther as it began to affect thousands of others braver and stronger.
"Let us go home," she prayed--twice, three times--saying, "It isthe frown of God, father. What other dreadful things may happen,who can tell? I am afraid."
Simonides was obstinate. He said little, but was plainly undergreat excitement. Observing, about the end of the first hour,that the violence of the crowding up on the knoll was somewhatabated, at his suggestion the party advanced to take positionnearer the crosses. Ben-Hur gave his arm to Balthasar; yet theEgyptian made the ascent with difficulty. From their new stand,the Nazarene was imperfectly visible, appearing to them not morethan a dark suspended figure. They could hear him, however--hearhis sighing, which showed an endurance or exhaustion greater thanthat of his fellow-sufferers; for they filled every lull in thenoises with their groans and entreaties.
The second hour after the suspension passed like the first one.To the Nazarene they were hours of insult, provocation, and slowdying. He spoke but once in the time. Some women came and kneltat the foot of his cross. Among them he recognized his motherwith the beloved disciple.
"Woman," he said, raising his voice, "behold thy son!" And to thedisciple, "Behold thy mother!"
The third hour came, and still the people surged round the hill,held to it by some strange attraction, with which, in probability,the night in midday had much to do. They were quieter than in thepreceding hour; yet at intervals they could be heard off in thedarkness shouting to each other, multitude calling unto multitude.It was noticeable, also, that coming now to the Nazarene,they approached his cross in silence, took the look in silence,and so departed. This change extended even to the guard, who soshortly before had cast lots for the clothes of the crucified;they stood with their officers a little apart, more watchfulof the one convict than of the throngs coming and going. If hebut breathed heavily, or tossed his head in a paroxysm of pain,they were instantly on the alert. Most marvellous of all, however,was the altered behavior of the high-priest and his following,the wise men who had assisted him in the trial in the night, and,in the victim's face, kept place by him with zealous approval.When the darkness began to fall, they began to lose theirconfidence. There were among them many learned in astronomy,and familiar with the apparitions so terrible in those daysto the masses; much of the knowledge was descended to them fromtheir fathers far back; some of it had been brought away at theend of the Captivity; and the necessities of the Temple servicekept it all bright. These closed together when the sun commencedto fade before their eyes, and the mountain
s and hills to recede;they drew together in a group around their pontiff, and debatedwhat they saw. "The moon is at its full," they said, with truth,"and this cannot be an eclipse." Then, as no one could answer thequestion common with them all--as no one could account for thedarkness, or for its occurrence at that particular time, in theirsecret hearts they associated it with the Nazarene, and yieldedto an alarm which the long continuance of the phenomenon steadilyincreased. In their place behind the soldiers, they noted everyword and motion of the Nazarene, and hung with fear upon his sighs,and talked in whispers. The man might be the Messiah, and then--But they would wait and see!
In the meantime Ben-Hur was not once visited by the old spirit.The perfect peace abode with him. He prayed simply that the endmight be hastened. He knew the condition of Simonides' mind--that hewas hesitating on the verge of belief. He could see the massive faceweighed down by solemn reflection. He noticed him casting inquiringglances at the sun, as seeking the cause of the darkness. Nor didhe fail to notice the solicitude with which Esther clung to him,smothering her fears to accommodate his wishes.
"Be not afraid," he heard him say to her; "but stay and watch withme. Thou mayst live twice the span of my life, and see nothing ofhuman interest equal to this; and there may be revelations more.Let us stay to the close."
When the third hour was about half gone, some men of the rudestclass--wretches from the tombs about the city--came and stoppedin front of the centre cross.
"This is he, the new King of the Jews," said one of them.
The others cried, with laughter, "Hail, all hail, King of theJews!"
Receiving no reply, they went closer.
"If thou be King of the Jews, or Son of God, come down," they said,loudly.
At this, one of the thieves quit groaning, and called to the Nazarene,"Yes, if thou be Christ, save thyself and us."
The people laughed and applauded; then, while they were listeningfor a reply, the other felon was heard to say to the first one,"Dost thou not fear God? We receive the due rewards of our deeds;but this man hath done nothing amiss."
The bystanders were astonished; in the midst of the hush whichensued, the second felon spoke again, but this time to the Nazarene:
"Lord," he said, "remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom."
Simonides gave a great start. "When thou comest into thy kingdom!"It was the very point of doubt in his mind; the point he had sooften debated with Balthasar.
"Didst thou hear?" said Ben-Hur to him. "The kingdom cannot be ofthis world. Yon witness saith the King is but going to his kingdom;and, in effect, I heard the same in my dream."
"Hush!" said Simonides, more imperiously than ever before inspeech to Ben-Hur. "Hush, I pray thee! If the Nazarene shouldanswer--"
And as he spoke the Nazarene did answer, in a clear voice, full ofconfidence:
"Verily I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise!"
Simonides waited to hear if that were all; then he folded his handsand said, "No more, no more, Lord! The darkness is gone; I see withother eyes--even as Balthasar, I see with eyes of perfect faith."
The faithful servant had at last his fitting reward. His brokenbody might never be restored; nor was there riddance of therecollection of his sufferings, or recall of the years embitteredby them; but suddenly a new life was shown him, with assurancethat it was for him--a new life lying just beyond this one--andits name was Paradise. There he would find the Kingdom of whichhe had been dreaming, and the King. A perfect peace fell upon him.
Over the way, in front of the cross, however, there were surpriseand consternation. The cunning casuists there put the assumptionunderlying the question and the admission underlying the answertogether. For saying through the land that he was the Messiah,they had brought the Nazarene to the cross; and, lo! on thecross, more confidently than ever, he had not only reassertedhimself, but promised enjoyment of his Paradise to a malefactor.They trembled at what they were doing. The pontiff, with all hispride, was afraid. Where got the man his confidence except fromTruth? And what should the Truth be but God? A very little nowwould put them all to flight.
The breathing of the Nazarene grew harder, his sighs becamegreat gasps. Only three hours upon the cross, and he was dying!
The intelligence was carried from man to man, until every oneknew it; and then everything hushed; the breeze faltered and died;a stifling vapor loaded the air; heat was superadded to darkness;nor might any one unknowing the fact have thought that off thehill, out under the overhanging pall, there were three millionsof people waiting awe-struck what should happen next--they wereso still!
Then there went out through the gloom, over the heads of such aswere on the hill within hearing of the dying man, a cry of despair,if not reproach:
"My God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?"
The voice startled all who heard it. One it touched uncontrollably.
The soldiers in coming had brought with them a vessel of wine andwater, and set it down a little way from Ben-Hur. With a spongedipped into the liquor, and put on the end of a stick, they couldmoisten the tongue of a sufferer at their pleasure. Ben-Hur thoughtof the draught he had had at the well near Nazareth; an impulseseized him; catching up the sponge, he dipped it into the vessel,and started for the cross.
"Let him be!" the people in the way shouted, angrily. "Let himbe!"
Without minding them, he ran on, and put the sponge to theNazarene's lips.
Too late, too late!
The face then plainly seen by Ben-Hur, bruised and black withblood and dust as it was, lighted nevertheless with a sudden glow;the eyes opened wide, and fixed upon some one visible to them alonein the far heavens; and there were content and relief, even triumph,in the shout the victim gave.
"It is finished! It is finished!"
So a hero, dying in the doing a great deed, celebrates his successwith a last cheer.
The light in the eyes went out; slowly the crowned head sank uponthe laboring breast. Ben-Hur thought the struggle over; but thefainting soul recollected itself, so that he and those around himcaught the other and last words, spoken in a low voice, as if toone listening close by:
"Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."
A tremor shook the tortured body; there was a scream of fiercestanguish, and the mission and the earthly life were over at once.The heart, with all its love, was broken; for of that, O reader,the man died!
Ben-Hur went back to his friends, saying, simply, "It is over;he is dead."
In a space incredibly short the multitude was informed of thecircumstance. No one repeated it aloud; there was a murmur whichspread from the knoll in every direction; a murmur that was littlemore than a whispering, "He is dead! he is dead!" and that was all.The people had their wish; the Nazarene was dead; yet they staredat each other aghast. His blood was upon them! And while they stoodstaring at each other, the ground commenced to shake; each man tookhold of his neighbor to support himself; in a twinkling the darknessdisappeared, and the sun came out; and everybody, as with the sameglance, beheld the crosses upon the hill all reeling drunken-likein the earthquake. They beheld all three of them; but the one inthe centre was arbitrary; it alone would be seen; and for that itseemed to extend itself upwards, and lift its burden, and swing it toand fro higher and higher in the blue of the sky. And every man amongthem who had jeered at the Nazarene; every one who had struck him;every one who had voted to crucify him; every one who had marched inthe procession from the city; every one who had in his heart wishedhim dead, and they were as ten to one, felt that he was in some wayindividually singled out from the many, and that if he would livehe must get away quickly as possible from that menace in the sky.They started to run; they ran with all their might; on horseback,and camels, and in chariots they ran, as well as on foot; but thenas if it were mad at them for what they had done, and had taken upthe cause of the unoffending and friendless dead, the earthquakepursued them, and tossed them about, and flung them down,and terrified them yet more by t
he horrible noise of greatrocks grinding and rending beneath them. They beat their breastsand shrieked with fear. His blood was upon them! The home-bredand the foreign, priest and layman, beggar, Sadducee, Pharisee,were overtaken in the race, and tumbled about indiscriminately.If they called on the Lord, the outraged earth answered for him infury, and dealt them all alike. It did not even know wherein thehigh-priest was better than his guilty brethren; overtaking him,it tripped him up also, and smirched the fringimg of his robe,and filled the golden bells with sand, and his mouth with dust.He and his people were alike in the one thing at least--the bloodof the Nazarene was upon them all!
When the sunlight broke upon the crucifixion, the mother of theNazarene, the disciple, and the faithful women of Galilee, thecenturion and his soldiers, and Ben-Hur and his party, were allwho remained upon the hill. These had not time to observe theflight of the multitude; they were too loudly called upon totake care of themselves.
"Seat thyself here," said Ben-Hur to Esther, making a place forher at her father's feet. "Now cover thine eyes and look not up;but put thy trust in God, and the spirit of yon just man so foullyslain."
"Nay," said Simonides, reverently, "let us henceforth speak ofhim as the Christ."
"Be it so," said Ben-Hur.
Presently a wave of the earthquake struck the hill. The shrieksof the thieves upon the reeling crosses were terrible to hear.Though giddy with the movements of the ground, Ben-Hur had time tolook at Balthasar, and beheld him prostrate and still. He ran to himand called--there was no reply. The good man was dead! Then Ben-Hurremembered to have heard a cry in answer, as it were, to the screamof the Nazarene in his last moment; but he had not looked to seefrom whom it had proceeded; and ever after he believed the spiritof the Egyptian accompanied that of his Master over the boundaryinto the kingdom of Paradise. The idea rested not only upon thecry heard, but upon the exceeding fitness of the distinction.If faith were worthy reward in the person of Gaspar, and lovein that of Melchior, surely he should have some special meedwho through a long life and so excellently illustrated the threevirtues in combination--Faith, Love, and Good Works.
The servants of Balthasar had deserted their master; but when allwas over, the two Galileans bore the old man in his litter back tothe city.
It was a sorrowful procession that entered the south gate of thepalace of the Hurs about the set of sun that memorable day. Aboutthe same hour the body of the Christ was taken down from the cross.
The remains of Balthasar were carried to the guest-chamber.All the servants hastened weeping to see him; for he had thelove of every living thing with which he had in anywise to do;but when they beheld his face, and the smile upon it, they driedtheir tears, saying, "It is well. He is happier this evening thanwhen he went out in the morning."
Ben-Hur would not trust a servant to inform Iras what had befallenher father. He went himself to see her and bring her to the body.He imagined her grief; she would now be alone in the world; it wasa time to forgive and pity her. He remembered he had not askedwhy she was not of the party in the morning, or where she was;he remembered he had not thought of her; and, from shame, he wasready to make any amends, the more so as he was about to plungeher into such acute grief.
He shook the curtains of her door; and though he heard the ringingof the little bells echoing within, he had no response; he calledher name, and again he called--still no answer. He drew the curtainaside and went into the room; she was not there. He ascended hastilyto the roof in search of her; nor was she there. He questionedthe servants; none of them had seen her during the day. After along quest everywhere through the house, Ben-Hur returned to theguest-chamber, and took the place by the dead which should havebeen hers; and he bethought him there how merciful the Christ hadbeen to his aged servant. At the gate of the kingdom of Paradisehappily the afflictions of this life, even its desertions, are leftbehind and forgotten by those who go in and rest.
When the gloom of the burial was nigh gone, on the ninth day afterthe healing, the law being fulfilled, Ben-Hur brought his motherand Tirzah home; and from that day, in that house the most sacrednames possible of utterance by men were always coupled worshipfullytogether,
GOD THE FATHER AND CHRIST THE SON.
--------
About five years after the crucifixion, Esther, the wife of Ben-Hur,sat in her room in the beautiful villa by Misenum. It was noon, witha warm Italian sun making summer for the roses and vines outside.Everything in the apartment was Roman, except that Esther wore thegarments of a Jewish matron. Tirzah and two children at play upona lion skin on the floor were her companions; and one had only toobserve how carefully she watched them to know that the little oneswere hers.
Time had treated her generously. She was more than ever beautiful,and in becoming mistress of the villa, she had realized one of hercherished dreams.
In the midst of this simple, home-like scene, a servant appearedin the doorway, and spoke to her.
"A woman in the atrium to speak with the mistress."
"Let her come. I will receive her here."
Presently the stranger entered. At sight of her the Jewess arose,and was about to speak; then she hesitated, changed color,and finally drew back, saying, "I have known you, good woman.You are--"
"I was Iras, the daughter of Balthasar."
Esther conquered her surprise, and bade the servant bring theEgyptian a seat.
"No," said Iras, coldly. "I will retire directly."
The two gazed at each other. We know what Esther presented--abeautiful woman, a happy mother, a contented wife. On the otherside, it was very plain that fortune had not dealt so gently withher former rival. The tall figure remained with some of its grace;but an evil life had tainted the whole person. The face was coarse;the large eyes were red and pursed beneath the lower lids; there wasno color in her cheeks. The lips were cynical and hard, and generalneglect was leading rapidly to premature old age. Her attire wasill chosen and draggled. The mud of the road clung to her sandals.Iras broke the painful silence.
"These are thy children?"
Esther looked at them, and smiled.
"Yes. Will you not speak to them?"
"I would scare them," Iras replied. Then she drew closer to Esther,and seeing her shrink, said, "Be not afraid. Give thy husband amessage for me. Tell him his enemy is dead, and that for the muchmisery he brought me I slew him."
"His enemy!"
"The Messala. Further, tell thy husband that for the harm I sought to dohim I have been punished until even he would pity me."
Tears arose in Esther's eyes, and she was about to speak.
"Nay," said Iras, "I do not want pity or tears. Tell him, finally,I have found that to be a Roman is to be a brute. Farewell."
She moved to go. Esther followed her.
"Stay, and see my husband. He has no feeling against you. He soughtfor you everywhere. He will be your friend. I will be your friend.We are Christians."
The other was firm.
"No; I am what I am of choice. It will be over shortly."
"But"--Esther hesitated--"have we nothing you would wish; nothingto--to--"
The countenance of the Egyptian softened; something like a smileplayed about her lips. She looked at the children upon the floor.
"There is something," she said.
Esther followed her eyes, and with quick perception answered,"It is yours."
Iras went to them, and knelt on the lion's skin, and kissed themboth. Rising slowly, she looked at them; then passed to the doorand out of it without a parting word. She walked rapidly, and wasgone before Esther could decide what to do.
Ben-Hur, when he was told of the visit, knew certainly what he hadlong surmised--that on the day of the crucifixion Iras had desertedher father for Messala. Nevertheless, he set out immediately andhunted for her vainly; they never saw her more, or heard of her.The blue bay, with all its laughing under the sun, has yet itsdark secrets. Had it a tongue, it might tell us of the Egyptian.
Simonides lived to be
a very old man. In the tenth year of Nero'sreign, he gave up the business so long centred in the warehouseat Antioch. To the last he kept a clear head and a good heart,and was successful.
One evening, in the year named, he sat in his arm-chair on theterrace of the warehouse. Ben-Hur and Esther, and their threechildren, were with him. The last of the ships swung at mooringin the current of the river; all the rest had been sold. In thelong interval between this and the day of the crucifixion but onesorrow had befallen them: that was when the mother of Ben-Hur died;and then and now their grief would have been greater but for theirChristian faith.
The ship spoken of had arrived only the day before, bringingintelligence of the persecution of Christians begun by Neroin Rome, and the party on the terrace were talking of the newswhen Malluch, who was still in their service, approached anddelivered a package to Ben-Hur.
"Who brings this?" the latter asked, after reading.
"An Arab."
"Where is he?"
"He left immediately."
"Listen," said Ben-Hur to Simonides.
He read then the following letter:
"I, Ilderim, the son of Ilderim the Generous, and sheik of thetribe of Ilderim, to Judah, son of Hur.
"Know, O friend of my father's, how my father loved you. Read what isherewith sent, and you will know. His will is my will; therefore whathe gave is thine.
"All the Parthians took from him in the great battle in whichthey slew him I have retaken--this writing, with other things,and vengeance, and all the brood of that Mira who in his timewas mother of so many stars.
"Peace be to you and all yours.
"This voice out of the desert is the voice of
"Ilderim, Shiek."
Ben-Hur next unrolled a scrap of papyrus yellow as a witheredmulberry leaf. It required the daintiest handling. Proceeding,he read:
"Ilderim, surnamed the Generous, sheik of the tribe of Ilderim,to the son who succeeds me.
"All I have, O son, shall be thine in the day of thy succession,except that property by Antioch known as the Orchard of Palms;and it shall be to the son of Hur who brought us such glory inthe Circus--to him and his forever.
"Dishonor not thy father. ILDERIM THE GENEROUS, Sheik."
"What say you?" asked Ben-Hur, of Simonides.
Esther took the papers pleased, and read them to herself. Simonidesremained silent. His eyes were upon the ship; but he was thinking.At length he spoke.
"Son of Hur," he said, gravely, "the Lord has been good to you inthese later years. You have much to be thankful for. Is it not timeto decide finally the meaning of the gift of the great fortune nowall in your hand, and growing?"
"I decided that long ago. The fortune was meant for the serviceof the Giver; not a part, Simonides, but all of it. The questionwith me has been, How can I make it most useful in his cause? Andof that tell me, I pray you."
Simonides answered,
"The great sums you have given to the Church here in Antioch, I amwitness to. Now, instantly almost with this gift of the generoussheik's, comes the news of the persecution of the brethren inRome. It is the opening of a new field. The light must not goout in the capital."
"Tell me how I can keep it alive."
"I will tell you. The Romans, even this Nero, hold two thingssacred--I know of no others they so hold--they are the ashes ofthe dead and all places of burial. If you cannot build templesfor the worship of the Lord above ground, then build them belowthe ground; and to keep them from profanation, carry to them thebodies of all who die in the faith."
Ben-Hur arose excitedly.
"It is a great idea," he said. "I will not wait to begin it. Timeforbids waiting. The ship that brought the news of the sufferingof our brethren shall take me to Rome. I will sail to-morrow."
He turned to Malluch.
"Get the ship ready, Malluch, and be thou ready to go with me.
"It is well," said Simonides.
"And thou, Esther, what sayest thou?" asked Ben-Hur.
Esther came to his side, and put her hand on his arm, and answered,
"So wilt thou best serve the Christ. O my husband, let me nothinder, but go with thee and help."
* * * * * *
If any of my readers, visiting Rome, will make the short journeyto the Catacomb of San Calixto, which is more ancient than that ofSan Sebastiano, he will see what became of the fortune of Ben-Hur,and give him thanks. Out of that vast tomb Christianity issued tosupersede the Caesars.