And while they waited for the door to be opened, and after the doorkeeper had opened it, the centurion continued to tell his tale: how a purple cloak was thrown upon the shoulders of Jesus, a reed put into his hand, and a crown of thorns pressed upon his forehead. We wondered how it was that he said nothing. We have come to see his worship, Joseph interrupted; and the doorkeeper, who knew Joseph to be a friend of Pilate, was embarrassed, for Pilate had sent down an order that he would see no one again that day; but, like the centurion, he was amenable to money, and consented to take in Joseph's name. There was no need to give him money, he would not have dared to refuse Pilate's friend, the centurion said as they waited. Word came back quickly that Joseph was to be admitted, and after begging Pilate to forgive him for intruding upon his privacy so late in the day, he put his request into words, saying straight away: I have come to ask for the body of Jesus, who was condemned to the cross at noon. At these words Pilate's face became overcast, and he said that he regretted that Joseph had come to ask him for something he could not grant. It would have been pleasant to leave Jerusalem knowing that I never refused you anything, Joseph, for you are the one Jew for whom I have any respect, and, I may add, some affection. But why, Pilate, cannot you give me Jesus' body? His body, is that what you ask for, Joseph? It seemed to me that you had come to ask me to undo the sentence that I pronounced to-day at noon. The body! Is Jesus dead then? The centurion answered for Joseph: yes, sir; he died to-day at the ninth hour. I put a lance into him to make sure, and blood and water came from his side. At which statement Joseph trembled, for he was acquiescing in a lie; but he did not dare to contradict the centurion, who was speaking in his favour for the sake of the money he had received, and in the hope of receiving more for the lie that he told. On the cross at noon and dead before the ninth hour! Pilate muttered: he could but bear the cross for three hours! After the scourging we gave him, Sir, the centurion answered, he was so weak and feeble that we had to pass on his cross to the shoulders of a Jew named Simon of Cyrene, who carried it to the top of the mount for him. If he be dead there is no reason for my not giving up the body, Pilate answered. Which I shall bury, Joseph replied, in my own sepulchre. What, Joseph, have you already ordered your sepulchre? To my eyes you do not look more than five or six and twenty years, and to my eyes you look as if you would live for sixty more years at least; but you Jews never lose sight of death, as if it were the only good. We Romans think so too sometimes, but not so frequently as you.