Kitobni o'qish: «The Silver Cross; Or, The Carpenter of Nazareth», sahifa 5

'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, if 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 rising 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.'

'Oh! dear mistress!' exclaimed Genevieve, 'I shall never forget the confidence you and your friend place in me; try at once to open the door of the prison.'

'Wait a moment, for before deciding we must think of the rage of my husband. It is not for myself I fear, but for you. When you return here, poor Genevieve, judge from what you have suffered what you will still have to suffer!'

'Think not of me!'

'We have thought of it, on the contrary. Listen again: the nurse of my friend lives near the Judicial gate; she sells woolen cloths and her name is Veronica, the wife of Samuel: shall you remember these names?'

'Yes, yes, Veronica, wife of Samuel, cloth vendor, near the Judicial gate. But, dear mistress, let us haste, the hour advances; every hour lost might be fatal to the young man. Oh! I entreat you, try to open the street door.'

'No, not at least until I have told you where you may find refuge; it will be impossible for you to return here, for I tremble at the treatment to which my husband would subject you.'

'What! quit you forever?'

'Would you rather submit to an infamous punishment again, and perhaps worse tortures?'

'I would much rather prefer death to such disgrace!'

'My husband will not kill you because you are worth money. This separation is therefore indispensable; it costs me dear, because never, perhaps, shall I find a slave in whom I have such confidence as you; but what would you? Since I have listened to the words of this young man, I share the enthusiasm he has inspired in Jane; and will try to save him…'

'Can you doubt it, dear mistress?'

'No, I know your devotedness and your courage. This, then, is what you must do; if you succeed in finding the young man of Nazareth, you will apprise him that he is betrayed by Judas, one of his disciples, and that he has only to fly from Jerusalem to escape the pharisees; they have sworn his death! Jane thinks that by retiring to Galilee, his native country, Mary's son will be saved, for his cowardly enemies would not dare to follow him there.'

'But, dear mistress, even here, at Jerusalem, he has only to-night to call the people to his defence, his disciples, by whom he is adored, will put themselves at the head of the revolt, and all the pharisees in the world would not be able to arrest him!'

'Jane had also thought of this plan; but that he might raise the people in his favor, either Jesus or his disciples must be apprised of the danger which menaces him.'

'Consequently, dear mistress, we have not a moment to lose.'

'Listen once more, poor Genevieve: you forget the perils that surround you! When, therefore, you have warned the young man, or one of his disciples, you will repair to Veronica's, Samuel's wife; you will tell her that you came from Jane, and as a proof of the truth you will give her this ring, which my friend drew from her finger; you will beg Veronica to conceal you in her house, and go immediately to Jane's, who will instruct her as to what she and I intend doing for you.

'Veronica,' said my friend to me, 'is kind and obliging; to the young Nazarene she and her husband owe a debt of gratitude, because he cured one of their children; you will therefore be safely concealed in their house until Jane and I have decided upon something respecting you. This is not all, in this packet I have brought your disguise as a young man, which I have just taken from the room in which you sleep; it will be more prudent to put on these garments of a man. It will be safer whilst running about the streets of Jerusalem at night and entering the tavern of the Wild Ass.'

'Dear, dear mistress, always kind, you think of all.'

'Hasten to dress yourself. In the mean time, I will go and see if it is possible to open the street door.'

CHAPTER V

Aurelia, having quitted the low room, returned in a few minutes and found Genevieve dressed as a young man and buckling the leather belt of her tunic.

'It is impossible to open the door!' said Aurelia in despair to her slave; 'the key is not within the lock where it is usually left.'

'Dear mistress, come,' said Genevieve, 'let us try again. Come, quick.'

And the two, after crossing the court, arrived at the street door. The efforts of Genevieve were as vain as those of her mistress had been to open it. She had surmounted one of the half arches, but without a ladder it was impossible to reach the opening. Suddenly Genevieve remarked to Aurelia:

'I have read in the family narratives left by Fergan, that one of his ancestresses, named Meroe, the wife of a sailor, had, by the help of her husband, been enabled to mount a high tree.'

'By what means?'

'Just lean your back against this door, dear mistress; now, enlace your two hands in such a way that I can place my foot in their hollow; I will next place the other on your shoulder, and perhaps thus I shall be enabled to reach the arch, and from thence I will endeavor to descend into the street.'

Suddenly the slave heard at a distance the voice of Seigneur Gremion from the upper story, call out in an angry tone:

'Aurelia! Aurelia!'

'My husband,' exclaimed the young wife trembling.

'Oh! Genevieve, you are lost!'

'Your hands! your hands! dear mistress; if I can only reach to this opening, I am saved.'

Aurelia obeyed almost mechanically, for the menacing voice of the Seigneur Gremion drew nearer and nearer.

The slave, after having placed one of her feet in the hollow of the two hands of her mistress, rested her other foot lightly on her shoulder, thus reached the opening, contrived to place herself on the thickness of the wall, and rested for a few moments kneeling under the half arch.

'But in jumping into the street,' suddenly exclaimed Aurelia in fear, 'you will hurt yourself, poor Genevieve.'

At this moment arrived the Seigneur Gremion, pale, enraged, and holding a lamp in his hand.

'What are you doing there?' he cried, addressing his wife; 'reply! reply!'

Then perceiving the slave kneeling above the door, he added:

'Ah! wretch! you would escape, and ‘tis my wife who favors your flight?'

'Yes,' replied Aurelia courageously, 'yes; and should you kill me on the spot, she shall escape your ill treatment.'

Genevieve, after looking down into the street from the elevation where she had crept, saw that she would have to jump twice her own length; she hesitated a moment, but hearing the Seigneur Gremion say to his wife, whom he had brutally shook by the arm to make her abandon the chain of the door to which she had clung:

'By Hercules! will you let me pass? oh! I will get outside and wait for your miserable slave, and if she does not break her limbs in jumping into the street, I will break her bones!'

'Try to get down and save yourself, Genevieve,' cried Aurelia; 'fear nothing, they shall trample me under foot before I open the door – '

Genevieve raised her eyes to heaven to invoke the gods, jumped from the arch above the door and was lucky enough to reach the ground without hurting herself. She remained however for a moment, stunned by the fall; she then rose up hastily and took to flight, her heart beating at the cries she heard proceeding from her mistress, who was being ill treated by her husband.

The slave, after running some way to get beyond her master's house, stopped, breathless, to consider in what direction was situated the tavern of the Wild Ass, where she hoped to hear of the young man of Nazareth, whom she wished to warn of the danger that menaced him. At this tavern she learnt that some hours before he had gone, with several of his disciples, towards the river Cedron, to a garden planted with olive trees, where he often repaired at night to meditate and pray.

Genevieve ran hastily to this place. The moment she had passed the gate of the city, she saw in the distance the light of several torches reflected on the helmets and armor of a great number of soldiers; they marched in disorder and uttered confused clamors.

The slave, fearing that they were sent by the pharisees to seize the Nazarene, commenced running in the hope of getting before them, perhaps, and in time to give the alarm to Jesus, or to his disciples. She was but a short distance from these armed men, whom she recognized as the Jerusalem militia, but little renowned for their courage, when by the glare of the torches they carried she noticed, away from the road but following the same direction, a narrow path bordered with firs. She took this road that she might not be seen by the soldiers, at the head of whom she observed Judas, the disciple of the young man whom she had seen at the tavern of the Wild Ass one of the preceding nights. He was then saying to the officer of the men, who commanded the escort:

'Seigneur, he whom you see me embrace will be the Nazarene.'

'Oh! this time,' replied the officer, 'he shall not escape us; and to-morrow, before sunset, the rebel will have suffered the punishment due to his crimes. Let us hasten, let us hasten; some of his disciples might have given him notice of our arrival. Let us also be very prudent, for fear of falling into an ambush, and let us also be very prudent when we are on the point of seizing the Nazarene: he might employ against us magical and diabolical ways. If I recommend prudence to you,' added the officer to his men, in a valorous tone, '‘tis not that I fear danger, but ‘tis to secure the success of our enterprise.'

The soldiers did not appear greatly reassured by these words of their officer and slackened their march, from a fear, no doubt, of some ambush. – Genevieve profited by this circumstance and, still running, she arrived at the borders of the river of Cedron. Not far from thence she perceived a small hill, planted with olives; this wood, buried in the shade, was scarcely distinguishable from the darkness of the night. She listened, all was silent; nothing was heard but the measured tread of the soldiers as they slowly approached. Genevieve had a momentary hope, thinking that, perhaps, the young man of Nazareth, warned in time, had quitted this place. She advanced cautiously in the obscurity, when she stumbled against the body of a man stretched beneath an olive tree. She could not restrain a cry of fear, whilst the man against whom she had stumbled suddenly awoke and said: 'Master, pardon me but this time again; I could not overcome the sleep that invaded me.'

'A disciple of Jesus!' exclaimed the slave, once more alarmed. 'He is here, then?'

Then addressing the man: 'Since you are a disciple of Jesus, save him: there is still time. See those torches in the distance; listen to the confused murmurs! They approach; they will take him, they will kill him. Save him, save him, oh, save him!'

'Who,' inquired the disciple, still half unconscious with sleep; 'who is it they would kill? Who are you?'

'No matter to you who I am; but save your master, I tell you: they are coming to seize him. The soldiers advance. See you those torches yonder?'

'Yes,' replied the disciple in a surprised and alarmed tone and now completely waking up: 'I see in the distance some helmets, sparkling from the light of the torches. But,' he added, looking round, 'where are my companions, then?'

'Asleep, like yourself, perhaps,' replied Genevieve. 'And you have not strength enough to resist sleep?'

'No, I and my companions struggled in vain; our master came twice to awake us, mildly reproaching us for thus sleeping. He then went once more to meditate and pray under the trees.'

'The militia men!' exclaimed Genevieve on seeing the light of the torches approaching nearer and nearer. 'They are here! He is lost, unless he remains concealed in the wood, or that you all die to defend him. Are you armed?'

'We have no arms!' replied the disciple, beginning to tremble; 'and besides, to try to resist soldiers, ‘tis madness!'

'No arms!' exclaimed Genevieve, very indignant. 'Is there any need of arms? Are not the stones in the road? Is not courage sufficient to crush these men?'

'We are not men of the sword,' said the disciple, looking round him with uneasiness, for the soldiers were already near enough for their torches to throw a light on Genevieve, the disciple and several of his companions, whom she then perceived, here and there, still asleep under the trees. They suddenly awoke at the voice of their comrade, who called them, going from one to the other.

The soldiers hastened in a tumult, seeing, from the light of the torches, several men; some still reclining, others rising, others again on their feet, rushed upon them, menacing them with their swords and sticks, for some were only armed with sticks, and all cried out:

'Where is the Nazarene? Tell us, Judas, where is he?'

The traitor, and infamous disciple, after having examined by the light of the torches his ancient companions, detained prisoners, said to the officer:

'The young master is not amongst these.'

'Will he escape us this time?' exclaimed the officer.

'By the pillars of the temple! you promised to deliver him to us, Judas: you have received the price of his blood; you must deliver him to us, Judas!'

Genevieve had kept aloof; suddenly she saw a few paces off, towards the olive wood, a white form, which issuing from the darkness, approached slowly towards the soldiers. The heart of Genevieve almost broke; it was no doubt the young Nazarene, attracted by the noise of the tumult. – She was not deceived. Presently she recognized Jesus; on his sad and gentle features she read neither fear nor surprise.

Judas made a sign of intelligence to the officer, ran to meet the young man of Nazareth, and said, whilst embracing him,

'Master, I kiss you.'

At these words one of the soldiers who were not occupied in detaining as prisoners the disciples, who in vain endeavored to fly, remembering the recommendations of their officer respecting the infernal sorceries that Jesus might employ against them, regarded him with fear, hesitating to approach in order to seize him; the officer himself kept behind the soldiers in order to excite them to seize Jesus, but did not approach him himself. Jesus, calm and thoughtful, made a few steps towards the armed men and said to them in his gentle voice: