Jesus Christ -- Fiction; Jesus Christ -- Juvenile fiction; Short stories
As this darkness grew more intense, the woman’s fear increased. “Oh, my
friend!” she burst out at last. “Can’t you perceive even now that the
Immortals would warn you? They are incensed because you condemned a holy
and innocent man. I am thinking that although he may already be on the
cross, he is surely not dead yet. Let him be taken down from the cross!
I would with mine own hands nurse his wounds. Only grant that he be
called back to life!”
But Pilate answered laughingly: “You are surely right in that this is a
sign from the gods. But they do not let the sun lose its luster because
a Jewish heretic has been condemned to the cross. On the contrary, we
may expect that important matters shall appear, which concern the whole
kingdom. Who can tell how long old Tiberius——”
He did not finish the sentence, for the darkness had become so profound
he could not see even the wine goblet standing in front of him. He broke
off, therefore, to order the slaves to fetch some lamps instantly.
When it had become so light that he could see the faces of his guests,
it was impossible for him not to notice the depression which had come
over them. “Mark you!” he said half-angrily to his wife. “Now it is
apparent to me that you have succeeded with your dreams in driving away
the joys of the table. But if it must needs be that you can not think of
anything else to-day, then let us hear what you have dreamed. Tell it us
and we will try to interpret its meaning!”
For this the young wife was ready at once. And while she related vision
after vision, the guests grew more and more serious. They ceased
emptying their goblets, and they sat with brows knit. The only one who
continued to laugh and to call the whole thing madness, was the Governor
himself.
When the narrative was ended, the young rhetorician said: “Truly, this
is something more than a dream, for I have seen this day not the
Emperor, but his old friend Faustina, march into the city. Only it
surprises me that she has not already appeared in the Governor’s
palace.”
“There is actually a rumor abroad to the effect that the Emperor has
been stricken with a terrible illness,” observed the leader of the
troops. “It also seems very possible to me that your wife’s dream may be
a god-sent warning.”
“There’s nothing incredible in this, that Tiberius has sent messengers
after the Prophet to summon him to his sick-bed,” agreed the young
rhetorician.
The Commander turned with profound seriousness toward Pilate. “If the
Emperor has actually taken it into his head to let this miracle-worker
be summoned, it were better for you and for all of us that he found him
alive.”
Pilate answered irritably: “Is it the darkness that has turned you into
children? One would think that you had all been transformed into
dream-interpreters and prophets.”
But the courtier continued his argument: “It may not be impossible,
perhaps, to save the man’s life, if you sent a swift messenger.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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