I turned back into the throng, for my intent was to have remained standing without, till such time as Jesus came forth. But I heard the servant of the High Priest say to one of his acquaintance that the procurator was not one to have his sleep broken by business at so early an hour; “Therefore,” said he to his companion, “go home to thy house, and warm thee, if thou wilt; for there will be naught to see these three hours.” Then it came into my mind that the mother of Jesus, and likewise Mary Magdalene, and the other women, were all this while in Bethany, neither knew they aught of that which had befallen Jesus; and it was fit they should be told. Therefore I went forth by the gate of Kidron and up the Mount of Olives even to Bethany; and there I writ a few words, telling what had befallen, and left it in the hand of one of the servants of the house; for to go in myself and to tell the tale, and to look upon their sorrow, I durst not do it. This done, I hasted back for to go down to the house of the procurator, making sure to have arrived thither long before they had made an end of the trial. But when I was gone but two or three hundred paces from Bethany, one of the women ran after me with tears and lamentations, beseeching me to return and to tell them all; and she constrained me. So I returned and told them all; and the memory of their lamenting remaineth with me unto this day. Thus passed a long time, a very long time as it seemed to me; but at last I withdrew myself from them perforce, and hasted down the mountain. But when I was come to the palace, behold the trial was over; and I saw the rear part of a moving throng, and one told me that they were taking the prisoner to be crucified at Golgotha. Then my heart within me seemed to burst; but though I was faint before with long watching and weariness, I was not faint now, but sped after the throng. Many times did I strive to press in amidst them, if perchance Jesus might look but once upon me, or I might see his face, or so much as catch a sight of his garment as he walked; and I wept and was ready to curse myself that I had gone from the High Priest’s door before I had seen my Master’s face. For now I could not see him, no, nor anything of him, save now and then the cross, which, as they told me, he was carrying upon his shoulders; but I heard the men in the crowd saying what insults had been offered to him, and how he had been scourged and mocked and spit upon, decked with a crown of thorns and a sceptre of reed; and I was as one distracted, in whom there is no power of thought.