Judas Iscariot E-Book

Leonid Andreiev

• Herausgeber: Lebooks Editora
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 361

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Leonid Andreyev is widely considered one of the most talented writers in Russian literature. In his prose, he reflected the influence of A. Chekhov's realism, the fascination with psychological paradoxes of F. Dostoevsky, and a constant obsession with the insignificance of life and the inevitability of death, in the manner of L. Tolstoy. In "Judas Iscariot," Leonid Andreyev leads us to reflect on the true role of Judas in the Passion of Christ and suggests a possible interpretation: that the betrayal perpetrated by Judas was a kind of destiny to which he could not resist. It will be up to the reader to answer this and other questions, or perhaps, be left even more in doubt after reading this small masterpiece by Leonid Andreyev.

Leseprobe

Leonid Andreyev

JUDAS ISCARIOT

Contents

INTRODUCTION

JUDAS ISCARIOT AND OTHERS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

“THE MAN WHO FOUND THE TRUTH”

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

THE OCEAN

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

INTRODUCTION

Leonid Andreyev

1871-1919

Leonid Nikolayevich Andreyev was a Russian playwright and short-story writer who led the Expressionist movement in national literature. Active between the Revolution of 1905 and the Communist Revolution that finally overthrew the Tsarist government, Andreyev began his literary career with the publication of "About a Poor Student," a narrative based on his own experiences. However, it was only when Gorky discovered his stories in the Moscow Courier and other venues that Andreyev's literary career truly took off.

His first collection of stories was published in 1901 and sold a quarter of a million copies in a short time. He was acclaimed as a new star in Russia, where his name soon became synonymous with literary talent. In 1902, he published the short story "In the Fog." Although he began in the traditional Russian literary style, Andreyev soon surprised his readers with his eccentricities, which grew even faster than his fame. Among his best-known stories are "The Red Laugh" (1904) and "The Seven Who Were Hanged" (1908).

In the theater, Andreyev wrote notable Symbolist plays such as "The Life of Man" (1906), "Tsar Hunger" (1907), "Black Masks" (1908), "Anathema" (1909), and "He Who Gets Slapped" (1915). His work reflects a profound pessimism and an intense exploration of the human condition, characteristics that marked his lasting contribution to Russian literature and world theater.

In the last years of his life, Andreyev faced difficult times. After the October Revolution of 1917, he opposed the Bolshevik regime and went into exile in Finland. Living in precarious financial conditions and suffering from health problems, his literary output decreased. Andreyev died on September 12, 1919, in Mustamäki (now part of Vyborg, Russia). His legacy, however, continued to influence generations of writers and playwrights.

About the work

"Judas Iscariot and Others" is a work by the Russian author Leonid Andreyev, first published in 1907. Andreyev, known for his expressionist style and his exploration of deep psychological and philosophical themes, presents in this play a provocative and complex view of Judas Iscariot, the infamous biblical figure who betrayed Jesus Christ. The play reimagines Judas' story, portraying him not merely as the archetypal traitor, but as a multifaceted character with complex motivations. Andreyev goes beyond the traditional Manichean view of Judas, suggesting that he is a human being with internal dilemmas, questions, and a profound moral struggle. In Andreyev's narrative, Judas is not simply driven by greed or evil, but is a tragic figure whose betrayal is ultimately a consequence of his own distorted understanding of faith and loyalty.

The work delves deeply into Judas' mind, examining his doubts, fears, and sense of inevitability. Andreyev humanizes Judas, allowing the reader or spectator to understand his betrayal as the result of a complex web of psychological and emotional factors. The work also questions the nature of faith and devotion, depicting Judas as someone who, in his quest for a deeper understanding of his faith, ends up committing the greatest transgression. This raises questions about the true nature of faith and the danger of dogmatic or extreme interpretations.

Andreyev employs an expressionist style, characterized by a distorted and subjective representation of reality to convey Judas' inner anguish. His writing is dense and laden with symbolism, contributing to an atmosphere of tension and introspection. The reception of the work was mixed. While some critics praised the psychological depth and Andreyev's courage in reimagining such a controversial biblical figure, others found the work heretical and disturbing. Nonetheless, "Judas Iscariot and Others" solidified Andreyev's reputation as an innovative and provocative writer.

"Judas Iscariot and Others" by Leonid Andreyev challenges the reader to reconsider prejudices and simplifications about Judas' betrayal. Through a deep exploration of the psychology and morality of the traitor, Andreyev offers a rich and complex vision that continues to resonate with contemporary themes of moral ambiguity and the nature of faith.

JUDAS ISCARIOT AND OTHERS

CHAPTER I

Jesus Christ had often been warned that Judas Iscariot was a man of very evil repute and that He ought to beware of him. Some of the disciples, who had been in Judaea, knew him well, while others had heard much about him from various sources and there was none who had a good word for him. If good people in speaking of him blamed him, as covetous, cunning and inclined to hypocrisy and lying, the bad, when asked concerning him, inveighed against him in the severest terms.

“He is always making mischief among us,” they would say and spit in contempt. “He always has some thought which he keeps to himself. He creeps into a house quietly, like a scorpion but goes out again with an ostentatious noise. There are friends among thieves and comrades among robbers and even liars have wives, to whom they speak the truth; but Judas laughs at thieves and honest folk alike, although he is himself a clever thief. Moreover, he is in appearance the ugliest person in Judaea. No! he is no friend of ours, this foxy-haired Judas Iscariot,” the bad would say, thereby surprising the good people, in whose opinion there was not much difference between him and all other vicious people in Judaea. They would recount further that he had long ago deserted his wife, who was living in poverty and misery, striving to eke out a living from the unfruitful patch of land which constituted his estate. He had wandered for many years aimlessly among the people and had even gone from one sea to the other, — no mean distance, — and everywhere he lied and grimaced and would make some discovery with his thievish eye and then suddenly disappear, leaving behind him animosity and strife. Yes, he was as inquisitive, artful and hateful as a one-eyed demon. Children he had none and this was an additional proof that Judas was a wicked man, that God would not have from him any posterity.

None of the disciples had noticed when it was that this ugly, foxy-haired Jew first appeared in the company of Christ: but he had for a long time haunted their path, joined in their conversations, performed little acts of service, bowing and smiling and currying favor. Sometimes they became quite used to him, so that he escaped their weary eyes; then again he would suddenly obtrude himself on eye and ear, irritating them as something abnormally ugly, treacherous and disgusting. They would drive him away with harsh words and for a short time he would disappear, only to reappear suddenly, officious, flattering and crafty as a one-eyed demon.

There was no doubt in the minds of some of the disciples that under his desire to draw near to Jesus was hidden some secret intention — some malign and cunning scheme.

But Jesus did not listen to their advice; their prophetic voice did not reach His ears. In that spirit of serene contradiction, which ever irresistibly inclined Him to the reprobate and unlovable, He deliberately accepted Judas and included him in the circle of the chosen. The disciples were disturbed and murmured under their breath but He would sit still, with His face towards the setting sun and listen abstractedly, perhaps to them, perhaps to something else. For ten days there had been no wind and the transparent atmosphere, wary and sensitive, continued ever the same, motionless and unchanged. It seemed as though it preserved in its transparent depths every cry and song made during those days by men and beasts and birds — tears, laments and cheerful song, prayers and curses — and that on account of these crystallized sounds the air was so heavy, threatening and saturated with invisible life. Once more the sun was sinking. It rolled heavily downwards in a flaming ball, setting the sky on fire. Everything upon the earth which was turned towards it: the swarthy face of Jesus, the walls of the houses and the leaves of the trees — everything obediently reflected that distant, fearfully pensive light. Now the white walls were no longer white and the white city upon the white hill was turned to red.

And lo! Judas arrived. He arrived bowing low, bending his back, cautiously and timidly protruding his ugly, bumpy head — just exactly as his acquaintances had described. He was spare and of good height, almost the same as that of Jesus, who stooped a little through the habit of thinking as He walked and so appeared shorter than He was. Judas was to all appearances fairly strong and well knit, though for some reason or other he pretended to be weak and somewhat sickly. He had an uncertain voice. Sometimes it was strong and manly, then again shrill as that of an old woman scolding her husband, provokingly thin and disagreeable to the ear, so that ofttimes one felt inclined to tear out his words from the ear, like rough, decaying splinters. His short red locks failed to hide the curious form of his skull. It looked as if it had been split at the nape of the neck by a double sword-cut and then joined together again, so that it was apparently divided into four parts and inspired distrust, nay, even alarm: for behind such a cranium there could be no quiet or concord but there must ever be heard the noise of sanguinary and merciless strife. The face of Judas was similarly doubled. One side of it, with a black, sharply watchful eye, was vivid and mobile, readily gathering into innumerable tortuous wrinkles. On the other side were no wrinkles. It was deadly flat, smooth and set and though of the same size as the other, it seemed enormous on account of its wide-open blind eye. Covered with a whitish film, closing neither night nor day, this eye met light and darkness with the same indifference but perhaps on account of the proximity of its lively and crafty companion it never got full credit for blindness.

When in a paroxysm of joy or excitement, Judas would close his sound eye and shake his head. The other eye would always shake in unison and gaze in silence. Even people quite devoid of penetration could clearly perceive, when looking at Judas, that such a man could bring no good....

And yet Jesus brought him near to Himself and once even made him sit next to Him. John, the beloved disciple, fastidiously moved away and all the others who loved their Teacher cast down their eyes in disapprobation. But Judas sat on and turning his head from side to side, began in a somewhat thin voice to complain of ill-health and said that his chest gave him pain in the night and that when ascending a hill he got out of breath and when he stood still on the edge of a precipice he would be seized with a dizziness and could scarcely restrain a foolish desire to throw himself down. And many other impious things he invented, as though not understanding that sicknesses do not come to a man by chance but as a consequence of conduct not corresponding with the laws of the Eternal. Thus Judas Iscariot kept on rubbing his chest with his broad palm and even pretended to cough, midst a general silence and downcast eyes.

John, without looking at the Teacher, whispered to his friend Simon Peter —

“Aren’t you tired of that lie? I can’t stand it any longer. I am going away.”

Peter glanced at Jesus and meeting his eye, quickly arose.

“Wait a moment,” said he to his friend.

Once more he looked at Jesus; sharply as a stone torn from a mountain, he moved towards Judas and said to him in a loud voice, with expansive, serene courtesy —

“You will come with us, Judas.”

He gave him a kindly slap on his bent back and without looking at the Teacher, though he felt His eye upon him, resolutely added in his loud voice, which excluded all objection, just as water excludes air —

“It does not matter that you have such a nasty face. There fall into our nets even worse monstrosities and they sometimes turn out very tasty food. It is not for us, our Lord’s fishermen, to throw away a catch, merely because the fish have spines, or only one eye. I saw once at Tyre an octopus, which had been caught by the local fishermen and I was so frightened that I wanted to run away. But they laughed at me. A fisherman from Tiberias gave me some of it to eat and I asked for more, it was so tasty. You remember, Master, that I told you the story and you laughed, too. And you, Judas, are like an octopus — but only on one side.”

And he laughed loudly, content with his joke. When Peter spoke, his words resounded so forcibly, that it seemed as though he were driving them in with nails. When Peter moved, or did anything, he made a noise that could be heard afar and which called forth a response from the deafest of things: the stone floor rumbled under his feet, the doors shook and rattled and the very air was convulsed with fear and roared. In the clefts of the mountains his voice awoke the inmost echo and in the morning-time, when they were fishing on the lake, he would roll about on the sleepy, glittering water and force the first shy sunbeams into smiles.

For this apparently, he was loved: when on all other faces there still lay the shadow of night, his powerful head and bare breast and freely extended arms were already aglow with the light of dawn.

The words of Peter, evidently approved as they were by the Master, dispersed the oppressive atmosphere. But some of the disciples, who had been to the seaside and had seen an octopus, were disturbed by the monstrous image so lightly applied to the new disciple. They recalled the immense eyes, the dozens of greedy tentacles, the feigned repose — and how all at once: it embraced, clung, crushed and sucked, all without one wink of its monstrous eyes. What did it mean? But Jesus remained silent, He smiled with a frown of kindly raillery on Peter, who was still telling glowing tales about the octopus. Then one by one the disciples shame-facedly approached Judas and began a friendly conversation, with him but — beat a hasty and awkward retreat.

Only John, the son of Zebedee, maintained an obstinate silence; and Thomas had evidently not made up his mind to say anything but was still weighing the matter. He kept his gaze attentively fixed on Christ and Judas as they sat together. And that strange proximity of divine beauty and monstrous ugliness, of a man with a benign look and of an octopus with immense, motionless, dully greedy eyes, oppressed his mind like an insoluble enigma.

He tensely wrinkled his smooth, upright forehead and screwed up his eyes, thinking that he would see better so but only succeeded in imagining that Judas really had eight incessantly moving feet. But that was not true. Thomas understood that and again gazed obstinately.

Judas gathered courage: he straightened out his arms, which had been bent at the elbows, relaxed the muscles which held his jaws in tension and began cautiously to protrude his bumpy head into the light. It had been the whole time in view of all but Judas imagined that it had been impenetrably hidden from sight by some invisible but thick and cunning veil. But lo! now, as though creeping out from a ditch, he felt his strange skull and then his eyes, in the light: he stopped and then deliberately exposed his whole face. Nothing happened; Peter had gone away somewhere or other. Jesus sat pensive, with His head leaning on His hand and gently swayed His sunburnt foot. The disciples were conversing together and only Thomas gazed at him attentively and seriously, like a conscientious tailor taking measurement. Judas smiled; Thomas did not reply to the smile; but evidently took it into account, as he did everything else and continued to gaze. But something unpleasant alarmed the left side of Judas’ countenance as he looked round. John, handsome, pure, without a single fleck upon his snow-white conscience, was looking at him out of a dark corner, with cold but beautiful eyes. And though he walked as others walk, yet Judas felt as if he were dragging himself along the ground like a whipped cur, as he went up to John and said: “Why are you silent, John? Your words are like golden apples in vessels of silver filigree; bestow one of them on Judas, who is so poor.”

John looked steadfastly into his wide-open motionless eye and said nothing. And he looked on, while Judas crept out, hesitated a moment and then disappeared in the deep darkness of the open door.

Since the full moon was up, there were many people out walking. Jesus went out too and from the low roof on which Judas had spread his couch he saw Him going out. In the light of the moon each white figure looked bright and deliberate in its movements; and seemed not so much to walk as to glide in front of its dark shadow. Then suddenly a man would be lost in something black and his voice became audible. And when people reappeared in the moonlight, they seemed silent — like white walls, or black shadows — as everything did in the transparent mist of night. Almost everyone was asleep when Judas heard the soft voice of Jesus returning. All in and around about the house was still. A cock crew; somewhere an ass, disturbed in his sleep, brayed aloud and insolently as in daytime, then reluctantly and gradually relapsed into silence. Judas did not sleep at all but listened surreptitiously. The moon illumined one half of his face and was reflected strangely in his enormous open eye, as on the frozen surface of a lake.

Suddenly he remembered something and hastily coughed, rubbing his perfectly healthy chest with his hairy hand: maybe someone was not yet asleep and was listening to what Judas was thinking!

CHAPTER II

They gradually became used to Judas and ceased to notice his ugliness. Jesus entrusted the common purse to him and with it there fell on him all household cares: he purchased the necessary food and clothing, distributed alms and when they were on the road, it was his duty to choose the place where they were to stop, or to find a night’s lodging.

All this he did very cleverly, so that in a short time he had earned the goodwill of some of the disciples, who had noticed his efforts. Judas was an habitual liar but they became used to this, when they found that his lies were not followed by any evil conduct; nay, they added a special piquancy to his conversation and tales and made life seem like a comic and sometimes a tragic, tale.

According to his stories, he seemed to know everyone and each person that he knew had some time in his life been guilty of evil conduct, or even crime. Those, according to him, were called good, who knew how to conceal their thoughts and acts; but if one only embraced, flattered and questioned such a man sufficiently, there would ooze out from him every untruth, nastiness and lie, like matter from a pricked wound. He freely confessed that he sometimes lied himself; but affirmed with an oath that others were still greater liars and that if anyone in this world was ever deceived, it was Judas.

Indeed, according to his own account, he had been deceived, time upon time, in one way or another. Thus, a certain guardian of the treasures of a rich grandee once confessed to him, that he had for ten years been continually on the point of stealing the property committed to him but that he was debarred by fear of the grandee and of his own conscience. And Judas believed him — and he suddenly committed the theft and deceived Judas. But even then Judas still trusted him — and then he suddenly restored the stolen treasure to the grandee and again deceived Judas. Yes, everything deceived him, even animals. Whenever he pets a dog it bites his fingers; but when he beats it with a stick it licks his feet and looks into his eyes like a daughter. He killed one such dog and buried it deep, laying a great stone on the top of it — but who knows? Perhaps just because he killed it, it has come to life again and instead of lying in the trench, is running about cheerfully with other dogs.

All laughed merrily at Judas’ tale and he smiled pleasantly himself, winking his one lively, mocking eye — and by that very smile confessed that he had lied somewhat; that he had not really killed the dog. But he meant to find it and kill it, because he did not wish to be deceived. And at these words of Judas they laughed all the more.

But sometimes in his tales he transgressed the bounds of probability and ascribed to people such proclivities as even the beasts do not possess, accusing them of such crimes as are not and never have been. And since he named in this connection the most honored people, some were indignant at the calumny, while others jokingly asked:

“How about your own father and mother, Judas — were they not good people?”

Judas winked his eye and smiled with a gesture of his hands. And the fixed, wide-open eye shook in unison with the shaking of his head and looked out in silence.

“But who was my father? Perhaps it was the man who used to beat me with a rod, or may be — a devil, a goat or a cock.... How can Judas tell? How can Judas tell with whom his mother shared her couch. Judas had many fathers: to which of them do you refer?”

But at this they were all indignant, for they had a profound reverence for parents; and Matthew, who was very learned in the scriptures, said severely in the words of Solomon:

“‘Whoso slandereth his father and his mother, his lamp shall be extinguished in deep darkness.’”

But John the son of Zebedee haughtily jerked out: “And what of us? What evil have you to say of us, Judas Iscariot?”

But he waved his hands in simulated terror, whined and bowed like a beggar, who has in vain asked an alms of a passer-by: “Ah! they are tempting poor Judas! They are laughing at him, they wish to take in the poor, trusting Judas!” And while one side of his face was crinkled up in buffooning grimaces, the other side wagged sternly and severely and the never-closing eye looked out in a broad stare.

More and louder than any laughed Simon Peter at the jokes of Judas Iscariot. But once it happened that he suddenly frowned and became silent and sad and hastily dragging Judas aside by the sleeve, he bent down and asked in a hoarse whisper —

“But Jesus? What do you think of Jesus? Speak seriously, I entreat you.”

Judas cast on him a malign glance.

“And what do you think?”

Peter whispered with awe and gladness —

“I think that He is the son of the living God.”

“Then why do you ask? What can Judas tell you, whose father was a goat?”

“But do you love Him? You do not seem to love anyone, Judas.”

And with the same strange malignity, Iscariot blurted out abruptly and sharply: “I do.”

Some two days after this conversation, Peter openly dubbed Judas “my friend the octopus”; but Judas awkwardly and ever with the same malignity, endeavored to creep away from him into some dark corner and would sit there morosely glaring with his white, never-closing eye.

Thomas alone took him quite seriously. He understood nothing of jokes, hypocrisy or lies, nor of the play upon words and thoughts but investigated everything positively to the very bottom. He would often interrupt Judas’ stories about wicked people and their conduct with short practical remarks:

“You must prove that. Did you hear it yourself? Was there any one present besides yourself? What was his name?”

At this Judas would get angry and shrilly cry out, that he had seen and heard everything himself; but the obstinate Thomas would go on cross-examining quietly and persistently, until Judas confessed that he had lied, or until he invented some new and more probable lie, which provided the others for some time with food for thought. But when Thomas discovered a discrepancy, he would immediately come and calmly expose the liar.

Usually Judas excited in him a strong curiosity, which brought about between them a sort of friendship, full of wrangling, jeering and invective on the one side and of quiet insistence on the other. Sometimes Judas felt an unbearable aversion to his strange friend and, transfixing him with a sharp glance, would say irritably and almost with entreaty —

“What more do you want? I have told you all.”

“I want you to prove how it is possible that a he-goat should be your father,” Thomas would reply with calm insistency and wait for an answer.

It chanced once, that after such a question, Judas suddenly stopped speaking and gazed at him with surprise from head to foot. What he saw was a tall, upright figure, a grey face, honest eyes of transparent blue, two fat folds beginning at the nose and losing themselves in a stiff, evenly-trimmed beard. He said with conviction:

“What a stupid you are, Thomas! What do you dream about — a tree, a wall, or a donkey?”

Thomas was in some way strangely perturbed and made no reply. But at night, when Judas was already closing his vivid, restless eye for sleep, he suddenly said aloud from where he lay — the two now slept together on the roof —

“You are wrong, Judas. I have very bad dreams. What think you? Are people responsible for their dreams?”

“Does, then, anyone but the dreamer see a dream?” Judas replied.

Thomas sighed gently and became thoughtful. But Judas smiled contemptuously and firmly closed his roguish eye and quickly gave himself up to his mutinous dreams, monstrous ravings, mad phantoms, which rent his bumpy skull to pieces.

When, during Jesus’ travels about Judaea, the disciples approached a village, Iscariot would speak evil of the inhabitants and foretell misfortune. But almost always it happened that the people, of whom he had spoken evil, met Christ and His friends with gladness and surrounded them with attentions and love and became believers and Judas’ money-box became so full that it was difficult to carry. And when they laughed at his mistake, he would make a humble gesture with his hands and say:

“Well, well! Judas thought that they were bad and they turned out to be good. They quickly believed and gave money. That only means that Judas has been deceived once more, the poor, confiding Judas Iscariot!”

But on one occasion, when they had already gone far from a village, which had welcomed them kindly, Thomas and Judas began a hot dispute, to settle which they turned back and did not overtake Jesus and His disciples until the next day. Thomas wore a perturbed and sorrowful appearance, while Judas had such a proud look, that you would have thought that he expected them to offer him their congratulations and thanks upon the spot. Approaching the Master, Thomas declared with decision: “Judas was right, Lord. They were ill-disposed, stupid people. And the seeds of your words has fallen upon the rock.” And he related what had happened in the village.

After Jesus and His disciples left it, an old woman had begun to cry out that her little white kid had been stolen and she laid the theft at the door of the visitors who had just departed. At first the people had disputed with her but when she obstinately insisted that there was no one else who could have done it except Jesus, many agreed with her and even were about to start in pursuit. And although they soon found the kid straying in the underwood, they still decided that Jesus was a deceiver and possibly a thief.

“So that’s what they think of us, is it?” cried Peter, with a snort. “Lord, wilt Thou that I return to those fools and — ”

But Jesus, saying not a word, gazed severely at him and Peter in silence retired behind the others. And no one ever referred to the incident again, as though it had never occurred and as though Judas had been proved wrong. In vain did he show himself on all sides, endeavoring to give to his double, crafty, hook-nosed face an expression of modesty. They would not look at him and if by chance anyone did glance at him, it was in a very unfriendly, not to say contemptuous, manner.

From that day on Jesus’ treatment of him underwent a strange change. Formerly, for some reason or other, Judas never used to speak directly with Jesus, who never addressed Himself directly to him but nevertheless would often glance at him with kindly eyes, smile at his rallies and if He had not seen him for some time, would inquire: “Where is Judas?”

But now He looked at him as if He did not see him, although as before and indeed more determinedly than formerly, He sought him out with His eyes every time that He began to speak to the disciples or to the people; but He was either sitting with His back to him, so that He was obliged, as it were, to cast His words over His head so as to reach Judas, or else He made as though He did not notice him at all. And whatever He said, though it was one thing one day and then next day quite another, although it might be the very thing that Judas was thinking, it always seemed as though He were speaking against him. To all He was the tender, beautiful flower, the sweet-smelling rose of Lebanon but for Judas He left only sharp thorns, as though Judas had neither heart, nor sight, nor smell and did not understand, even better than any, the beauty of tender, immaculate petals.

“Thomas! Do you like the yellow rose of Lebanon, which has a swarthy countenance and eyes like the roe?” he inquired once of his friend, who replied indifferently —

“Rose? Yes, I like the smell. But I have never heard of a rose with a swarthy countenance and eyes like a roe!”

“What? Do you not know that the polydactylous cactus, which tore your new garment yesterday, has only one beautiful flower and only one eye?”

But Thomas did not know this, although only yesterday a cactus had actually caught in his garment and torn it into wretched rags. But then Thomas never did know anything, though he asked questions about everything and looked so straight with his bright, transparent eyes, through which, as through a pane of Phoenician glass, was visible a wall, with a dismal ass tied to it.

Sometime later another occurrence took place, in which Judas again proved to be in the right.

At a certain village in Judaea, of which Judas had so bad an opinion, that he had advised them to avoid it, the people received Christ with hostility and after His sermon and exposition of hypocrites they burst into fury and threatened to stone Jesus and His disciples. Enemies He had many and most likely they would have carried out their sinister intention but for Judas Iscariot. Seized with a mad fear for Jesus, as though he already saw the drops of ruby blood upon His white garment, Judas threw himself in blind fury upon the crowd, scolding, screeching, beseeching and lying and thus gave time and opportunity to Jesus and His disciples to escape.

Amazingly active, as though running upon a dozen feet, laughable and terrible in his fury and entreaties, he threw himself madly in front of the crowd and charmed it with a certain strange power. He shouted that the Nazarene was not possessed of a devil, that He was simply an impostor, a thief who loved money as did all His disciples and even Judas himself: and he rattled the money-box, grimaced and beseeched, throwing himself on the ground. And by degrees the anger of the crowd changed into laughter and disgust and they let fall the stones which they had picked up to throw at them.

“They are not fit to die by the hands of an honest person,” said they, while others thoughtfully followed the rapidly disappearing Judas with their eyes.

Again Judas expected to receive congratulations, praise and thanks and made a show of his torn garments and pretended that he had been beaten; but this time, too, he was greatly mistaken. The angry Jesus strode on in silence and even Peter and John did not venture to approach Him: and all whose eyes fell on Judas in his torn garments, his face glowing with happiness but still somewhat frightened, repelled him with curt, angry exclamations.

It was just as though he had not saved them all, just as though he had not saved their Teacher, whom they loved so dearly.

“Do you want to see some fools?” said he to Thomas, who was thoughtfully walking in the rear. “Look! There they go along the road in a crowd, like a flock of sheep, kicking up the dust. But you are wise, Thomas, you creep on behind and I, the noble, magnificent Judas, creep on behind like a dirty slave, who has no place by the side of his masters.”

“Why do you call yourself magnificent?” asked Thomas in surprise.

“Because I am so,” Judas replied with conviction and he went on talking, giving more details of how he had deceived the enemies of Jesus and laughed at them and their stupid stones.

“But you told lies,” said Thomas.

“Of course I did,” quickly assented Iscariot. “I gave them what they asked for and they gave me in return what I wanted. And what is a lie, my clever Thomas? Would not the death of Jesus be the greatest lie of all?”

“You did not act rightly. Now I believe that a devil is your father. It was he that taught you, Judas.”

The face of Judas grew pale and something suddenly came over Thomas and as if it were a white cloud, passed over and concealed the road and Jesus. With a gentle movement Judas just as suddenly drew Thomas to himself, pressed him closely with a paralyzing movement and whispered in his ear —

“You mean, then, that a devil has instructed me, don’t you, Thomas? Well, I saved Jesus. Therefore a devil loves Jesus and has need of Him and of the truth. Is it not so, Thomas? But then my father was not a devil but a he-goat. Can a he-goat want Jesus? Eh? And don’t you want Him yourselves and the truth also?”

Angry and slightly frightened, Thomas freed himself with difficulty from the clinging embrace of Judas and began to stride forward quickly. But he soon slackened his pace as he endeavored to understand what had taken place.

But Judas crept on gently behind and gradually came to a standstill. And lo! in the distance the pedestrians became blended into a parti-colored mass, so that it was impossible any longer to distinguish which among those little figures was Jesus. And lo! the little Thomas, too, changed into a grey spot and suddenly — all disappeared round a turn in the road.

Looking round, Judas went down from the road and with immense leaps descended into the depths of a rocky ravine. His clothes blew out with the speed and abruptness of his course and his hands were extended upwards as though he would fly. Lo! now he crept along an abrupt declivity and suddenly rolled down in a grey ball, rubbing off his skin against the stones; then he jumped up and angrily threatened the mountain with his fist —

“You too, damn you!”

Suddenly he changed his quick movements into a comfortable, concentrated dawdling, chose a place by a big stone and sat down without hurry. He turned himself, as if seeking a comfortable position, laid his hands side by side on the grey stone and heavily sank his head upon them. And so for an hour or two he sat on, as motionless and grey as the grey stone itself, so still that he deceived even the birds. The walls of the ravine rose before him and behind and on every side, cutting a sharp line all round on the blue sky; while everywhere immense grey stones obtruded from the ground, as though there had been at some time or other, a shower here and as though its heavy drops had become petrified in endless split, upturned skull and every stone in it was like a petrified thought; and there were many of them and they all kept thinking heavily, boundlessly, stubbornly.

A scorpion, deceived by his quietness, hobbled past, on its tottering legs, close to Judas. He threw a glance at it and, without lifting his head from the stone, again let both his eyes rest fixedly on something — both motionless, both veiled in a strange whitish turbidness, both as though blind and yet terribly alert. And lo! from out of the ground, the stones and the clefts, the quiet darkness of night began to rise, enveloped the motionless Judas and crept swiftly up towards the pallid light of the sky. Night was coming on with its thoughts and dreams.

That night Judas did not return to the halting-place. And the disciples, forgetting their thoughts, busied themselves with preparations for their meal and grumbled at his negligence.

CHAPTER III

Once, about mid-day, Jesus and His disciples were walking along a stony and hilly road devoid of shade and, since they had been more than five hours afoot, Jesus began to complain of weariness. The disciples stopped and Peter and his friend John spread their cloaks and those of the other disciples, on the ground and fastened them above between two high rocks and so made a sort of tent for Jesus. He lay down in the tent, resting from the heat of the sun, while they amused Him with pleasant conversation and jokes. But seeing that even talking fatigued Him and being themselves but little affected by weariness and the heat, they went some distance off and occupied themselves in various ways. One sought edible roots among the stones on the slope of the mountain and when he had found them brought them to Jesus; another, climbing up higher and higher, searched musingly for the limits of the blue distance and failing, climbed up higher on to new, sharp-pointed rocks. John found a beautiful little blue lizard among the stones and smiling brought it quickly with tender hands to Jesus. The lizard looked with its protuberant, mysterious eyes into His and then crawled quickly with its cold body over His warm hand and soon swiftly disappeared with tender, quivering tail.

But Peter and Philip, not caring about such amusements, occupied themselves in tearing up great stones from the mountain and hurling them down below, as a test of their strength. The others, attracted by their loud laughter, by degrees gathered round them and joined in their sport. Exerting their strength, they would tear up from the ground an ancient rock all overgrown and lifting it high with both hands, hurl it down the slope. Heavily it would strike with a dull thud and hesitate for a moment; then resolutely it would make a first leap and each time it touched the ground, gathering from it speed and strength, it would become light, furious, all-subversive. Now it no longer leapt but flew with grinning teeth and the whistling wind let its dull round mass pass by. Lo! it is on the edge — with a last, floating motion the stone would sweep high and then quietly, with ponderous deliberation, fly downwards in a curve to the invisible bottom of the precipice.

“Now then, another!” cried Peter. His white teeth shone between his black beard and moustache, his mighty chest and arms were bare and the sullen, ancient rocks, dully wondering at the strength which lifted them, obediently, one after another, precipitated themselves into the abyss. Even the frail John threw some moderate-sized stones and Jesus smiled quietly as He looked at their sport.

“But what are you doing, Judas? Why do you not take part in the game? It seems amusing enough?” asked Thomas, when he found his strange friend motionless behind a great grey stone.

“I have a pain in my chest. Moreover, they have not invited me.”

“What need of invitation! At all events, I invite you; come! Look what stones Peter throws!”

Judas somehow or other happened to glance sideward at him and Thomas became, for the first time, indistinctly aware that he had two faces. But before he could thoroughly grasp the fact, Judas said in his ordinary tone, at once fawning and mocking —

“There is surely none stronger than Peter? When he shouts, all the asses in Jerusalem think that their Messiah has arrived and lift up their voices too. You have heard them before now, have you not, Thomas?”

Smiling politely; and modestly wrapping his garment round his chest, which was overgrown with red curly hairs, Judas stepped into the circle of players.

And since they were all in high good humor, they met him with mirth and loud jokes and even John condescended to vouchsafe a smile, when Judas, pretending to groan with the exertion, laid hold of an immense stone. But lo! he lifted it with ease and threw it and his blind, wide-open eye gave a jerk and then fixed itself immovably on Peter; while the other eye, cunning and merry, was overflowing with quiet laughter.

“No! you throw again!” said Peter in an offended tone.

And lo! one after the other they kept lifting and throwing gigantic stones, while the disciples looked on in amazement. Peter threw a great stone and then Judas a still bigger one. Peter, frowning and concentrated, angrily wielded a fragment of rock and struggling as he lifted it, hurled it down; then Judas, without ceasing to smile, searched for a still larger fragment and digging his long fingers into it, grasped it and swinging himself together with it and paling, sent it into the gulf. When he had thrown his stone, Peter would recoil and so watch its fall; but Judas always bent himself forward, stretched out his long vibrant arms, as though he were going to fly after the stone. Eventually both of them, first Peter, then Judas, seized hold of an old grey stone but neither one nor the other could move it. All red with his exertion, Peter resolutely approached Jesus and said aloud —

“Lord! I do not wish to be beaten by Judas. Help me to throw this stone.”

Jesus made answer in a low voice and Peter, shrugging his broad shoulders in dissatisfaction but not daring to make any rejoinder, came back with the words —

“He says: ‘But who will help Iscariot?’”

Then glancing at Judas, who, panting with clenched teeth, was still embracing the stubborn stone, he laughed cheerfully —

“Look what an invalid he is! See what our poor sick Judas is doing!”

And even Judas laughed at being so unexpectedly exposed in his deception and all the others laughed too and even Thomas allowed his pointed, grey, overhanging moustache to relax into a smile.