GOOD FRIDAY AND OTHER POEMS BY JOHN MASEFIELD AUTHOR OF "THE EVERLASTING MERCY" "THE WIDOW IN THE BYE STREET" "THE TRAGEDY OF POMPEY THE GREAT," ETC New York THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1916 _All rights reserved_ COPYRIGHT, 1915 and 1916 BY JOHN MASEFIELD Set up and electrotyped. Published February, 1916. Reprinted February, 1916. GOOD FRIDAY A DRAMATIC POEM PERSONS PONTIUS PILATE, Procurator of Judæa. PROCULA, His Wife. LONGINUS, A Centurion. A JEW, Leader of the Rabble. A MADMAN. A SENTRY. JOSEPH OF RAMAH. HEROD. SOLDIERS, SERVANTS, THE JEWISH RABBLE, LOITERERS, IDLERS. THE SCENE _The Pavement, or Paved Court, outside the Roman Citadel in Jerusalem. At the back is the barrack wall, pierced in the centre with a double bronze door, weathered to a green color. On the right and left sides of the stage are battlemented parapets overlooking the city. The stage or pavement is approached by stone steps from the front, and by narrow stone staircases in the wings, one on each side, well forward. These steps are to suggest that the citadel is high up above the town, and that the main barrack gate is below. _THE CHIEF CITIZEN, THE RABBLE, JOSEPH, THE MADMAN, HEROD,_ and _THE LOITERERS,_ etc., enter by these steps. _PILATE, PROCULA, LONGINUS, THE SOLDIERS_ and _SERVANTS_ enter by the bronze doors._ GOOD FRIDAY A DRAMATIC POEM PILATE. Longinus. LONGINUS. Lord. PILATE [_giving scroll_]. Your warrant. Take the key. Go to Barabbas' cell and set him free, The mob has chosen him. LONGINUS. And Jesus? PILATE. Wait. He can be scourged and put outside the gate, With warning not to make more trouble here. See that the sergeant be not too severe. I want to spare him. LONGINUS. And the Jew, the Priest, Outside? PILATE. I'll see him now. LONGINUS. Passover Feast Always brings trouble, Lord. All shall be done. Dismiss? PILATE. Dismiss. [_Exit_ LONGINUS. There's blood about the sun, This earthquake weather presses on the brain. _Enter_ PROCULA. You? PROCULA. Dear, forgive me, if I come again About this Jesus, but I long to know What Herod said. Did he dismiss him? PILATE. No. He sent him back to me for me to try, The charge being local. PROCULA. Have you tried him? PILATE. Ay, Henceforth he will be kept outside the walls. Now, listen, wife: whatever dream befalls, Never again send word to me in Court To interrupt a case. The Jews made sport Of what you dreamed and what you bade me fear About this Jesus man. The laws are clear. I must apply them, asking nothing more Than the proved truth. Now tell me of your dream: What was it? Tell me then. PROCULA. I saw a gleam Reddening the world out of a blackened sky, Then in the horror came a hurt thing's cry Protesting to the death what no one heard. PILATE. What did it say?