Jesus Christ -- Fiction; Jesus Christ -- Juvenile fiction; Short stories
When this was said, they uttered a shriek as wild as a beast’s howl, and
in their despair they began to lacerate themselves until the blood ran
down on the stones. And when she that dreamed saw their distress, she
wrung her hands and moaned. And her own moans awakened her.
But again she fell asleep, and again, in her dream, she was on the roof
of her house. Round about her sat her slaves, who played for her upon
cymbals and zithers, and the almond trees shook their white blossoms
over her, and clambering rose-vines exhaled their perfume.
As she sat there, a voice spoke to her: “Go over to the balustrade which
incloses the roof, and see who they are that stand and wait in your
court!”
But in the dream she declined, and said: “I do not care to see any more
of those who throng my court to-night.”
Just then she heard a clanking of chains and a pounding of heavy
hammers, and the pounding of wood against wood. Her slaves ceased their
singing and playing and hurried over to the railing and looked down. Nor
could she herself remain seated, but walked thither and looked down on
the court.
Then she saw that the court was filled with all the poor prisoners in
the world. She saw those who must lie in dark prison dungeons, fettered
with heavy chains; she saw those who labored in the dark mines come
dragging their heavy planks, and those who were rowers on war galleys
come with their heavy iron-bound oars. And those who were condemned to
be crucified came dragging their crosses, and those who were to be
beheaded came with their broadaxes. She saw those who were sent into
slavery to foreign lands and whose eyes burned with homesickness. She
saw those who must serve as beasts of burden, and whose backs were
bleeding from lashes.
All these unfortunates cried as with one voice: “Open, open!”
Then the slave who guarded the entrance stepped to the door and asked:
“What is it that you wish?”
And these answered like the others: “We seek the great Prophet of
Nazareth, who has come to the world to give the prisoners their freedom
and the slaves their lost happiness.”
The slave answered them in a tired and indifferent tone: “You can not
find him here. Pilate has killed him.”
When this was said, she who dreamed thought that among all the unhappy
there arose such an outburst of scorn and blasphemy that heaven and
earth trembled. She was ice-cold with fright, and her body shook so that
she awaked.
When she was thoroughly awake, she sat up in bed and thought to herself:
“I would not dream more. Now I want to remain awake all night, that I
may escape seeing more of this horror.”
And even whilst she was thinking thus, drowsiness crept in upon her
anew, and she laid her head on the pillow and fell asleep.
Again she dreamed that she sat on the roof of her house, and now her
little son ran back and forth up there, and played with a ball.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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