The Epic of Saul

by William Cleaver Wilkinson

SAUL AND HIRANI.

With large prosperity and little joy,
Thus the first stage of that 'straight path' foreseen
By him to Rachel, 'traced in blood and tears,'
Saul had accomplished, and the night was late;
He parted from his men and was alone.
Alone and moody, by the westering moon,
His face downcast turned absently toward what
Late was his home, home longer not to him,
With footstep slow suspended by sad thought—
Which had no goal, but ever round and round
On one fixed centre hopelessly revolved—
Saul paced the still streets of Jerusalem,
Like a soul seeking rest and finding none.
Before the door at length he finds himself
Of his own house forsaken yesterday.

For an uncertain absence, but for long
As he supposed, Saul thence that morn had fled
In haste and bitterness. He could not bear
To think of meeting Rachel day by day,
And that great gulf impassable between
Her and himself yawning! he hands imbrued
Perhaps in blood of those she counted dear
But he most hateful counted bringing home,
Her innocent white hands to touch, and feel
The difference! Therefore he fled because
'Rachel,' thought he, 'must bide, and bide we twain
Cannot.' But now Rachel was gone, and Saul,
Alone and lonely, sojourner might be
Where brother and sister late had shared a home.
He enters noiselessly, and unperceived
Steals to his chamber; there upon his couch
To restless thought, he, not to rest, lies down.
Restless and fruitless, save that, morning yet
Pearl-white, untinted with that ruddy flush
Of color in the east before the sun,
Saul rose, and, after joyless orisons,
Went to Gamaliel's house, sure him to find
Already on his roof to greet the dawn.

"In anguish sore and sore perplexity
Of spirit, master," Saul said, "lo, I come
To thee, not knowing whither else to go,
For solace, and the solving of my doubt."

"Welcome thou comest ever, even or morn,"
Gamaliel said; "but what disquiets thee?
When in the council last I heard thee speak,
Thou wert all firmness, as one wholly clear
In purpose, and thou hadst that glad aspect,
Though serious, which befits the mind resolved.
Whence, Saul, the change in thee?"

"Thou knowest," said Saul
"How prospered my attempt, ventured upon
Without thy counsel, in that issue joined
With Stephen."

"Yea, my son," Gamaliel said;
"But I, meantime, after my counsel given
Dissuading thee, had learned myself to feel
How failed the hand of brute authority
Against this strange faith of the Nazarene.
Thine undertaking I less disapproved
After our hearing of the Galilæans.
Something perceived in them, or through them felt,
Disturbed me with a strange solicitude,
Which the ill fortune of thine own assay
Did not relieve. But thou, thou still wert clear,
Wert thou not, Saul? Thine action did not halt;
Promptly in Stephen's stoning thou took'st part."

"I acted promptly, that I might be clear
In thought," said Saul; "this, rather than because
I was so clear. My halting urged me on.
Yet now, O master mine, I might perhaps
Be clear, but that my coadjutorship
Offends me so, torments me with such doubt.
In the right way how can I be, and be
In the same way with Shimei? My soul
Sickens at him, at all his words and ways
Sickens, and still he dogs me every step,
Clings to me like my shadow, whispers me
Over my shoulder, pointing me out my way,
Until I hardly can do that which else
Freely I should, because he bids me do it!"

"Yea, Saul, my son, trust thou thine instinct there,"
Gravely Gamaliel said, with slow reserve
That warned how more than he would say was meant;
"Our brother Shimei is a dark man,
Whose public zeal is edged with private spite;
Him well, son Saul, it thee behooves beware.
Since when thou scornedst him in those high words
Before the council, Shimei hates thee, Saul,
And hate like his is sleepless till revenge.
Ill for a cause that must be served by him!
But some are tools, and others ministers,
Of God, Who works His holy will with all!"

Unwarned by warning, but in conscience pricked,
And following his own tyrannous thought, Saul spoke:
"Those infamous false witnesses of his—
Say, master, did I on my conscience take
The guilt of their suborning, when consent
I gave to Stephen's death thereby procured?
My conscience like a scorpion stings me on,
But whether a good conscience before God
It be, or rather a conscience violated,
Which I must quiet by not heeding it,
And by confusing it with din of deeds
Forever doing—this I cannot well
Resolve me, and—but, nay, for that were false,
I do not wish thou shouldst resolve me it.
Forgive me, and farewell! But pray for Saul!"

Therewith, and pausing not, like one distraught,
Or one goaded, and wildly seeking fast
Enough before the goad to fly, which flies
Only the faster, following, for his speed,
And pricks the harder—so Saul broke away
And left Gamaliel on his roof alone
Astonished.
Swiftly now, yet with a haste
As of one wishing to leave far behind
Some spot abhorred, much more than as of one
Eager a goal before him to attain,
Say rather as of one insanely fierce
Somewhither, anywhither, from himself
Pursuing hard himself, to fly, Saul flew
Back toward his dwelling. At the door arrived,
He well-nigh stumbled—for his hasting feet
Against some shapeless heap struck that alive
Seemed, for it moved, and from the threshold, where
He in a kind of ambush crouching lay,
Slowly into the semblance of a man,
Under Saul's eyes down bent, upgrew—Shimei!

'Sin coucheth at the door!' thought Saul; he thought
Half of himself, as half of Shimei,
For, 'If thou doest not well, thou Saul!' thought he,
Then, "Reptile! How beneath my heel should I
His serpent head have bruised!" hissed hotly out
Between his set teeth, and perused the man.
Half under breath this, then to him aloud:
"What art thou? Imp of hell spawned hither new
Up from the pit? Avaunt! I loathe thee hence!"

"Nay, brother Saul," grinned Shimei, therefore pleased
Thus spurned to be, because the spurning was
With anguish of disgust to him who spurned,
Malevolently yet storing reserve
Of hatred and revenge therefor, to be
Afterward feasted when the time should come,
"Nay, brother Saul, you look with eyesight dazed
From undersleeping, and from rash surprise
At this encounter. I am Shimei,
Your special coadjutor tried and true.
I am a little early, I confess—
Or late, which shall I call it? early and late—
Like moral good and evil, Saul—ofttimes
Change places with your point of view—become
The one the other, as you look at them.

"You see I hardly slept myself this night,
Thinking of you, and pleasuring my mind
With fancies of the odd coincidences
That might be happening you at Bethany.
I got prompt information how it all
Fell out, and hastened hither to advise
With you. Upon your sleep, already much
Cut short, I would not thoughtlessly break in,
And so I dropped me at your threshold here,
To wait a proper hour for seeing you,
And yet not let you pass out hence unseen.
I must have fallen asleep, and, brother Saul
Be sure I was no less surprised than you,
When you just now came on me unaware.
Ha! ha! How naturally you mistook your friend
For something not so pleasant from the pit
Vomited suddenly up under your feet!
Another might have taken it amiss
To be so little courteously greeted,
But I—why, give and take, say I, in joke,
You have bravely evened up the score between us!"

"I do not bandy jokes with such as you,
Suborner of false witnesses!" gnashed Saul.
Saul's look, his tone, had withered any man
Save Shimei, who grew blithe in sultry heats
Of human scorn as in his element.
So Shimei flourished lustier hearing Saul
Despise him with the question further asked:
"What is there common between you and me?"

"Oh! Ah!" sneered Shimei; "I had thought you dazed
In eyesight only, but distempered mind
You show now, taking this high strain with me.
'What common 'twixt us?' Yea, yea, very good!
'Suborner of false witnesses'—hence base,
Shimei, but very, very virtuous, Saul,
Who, with much flourish of disdain, his hands,
His lily hands, washes, for all to see,
Quite white and fair of all complicity
With 'lies,' 'devilish lies,' 'lies damnable,'
You know, and so forth, and in due course then,
His moral indignation unabated,
Takes profit of said lies to make away
With Stephen, through more weighty argument
In stones found than conveniently to hand
Came when he crossed words with that heretic!"

The mordant sneer corrosive of such speech
Ate through the thin mail of Saul's scornful pride,
And bit him in his wincing sense of truth.
Against these thrusts in no wise could he fence,
Having the foothold lost whereon he stood
Firm in the conscience of integrity.
Unbidden would those words of Stephen, "Pricks
To kick against!" returning come to him
In memory, while ever, with each return,
Fiercer waxed Saul's resistance, fiercer wound
Infixing in his secret-suffering mind—
As should the bullock battle with the goads
Behind him, shrinking flesh on sharpened steel.
So now his wild heart Saul pressed sternly up
Against the cruel points of Shimei's jeer,
And suffered them in silence.
Shimei
Felt his own triumph, and at feline ease
Leisurely played with his proud captive. "Saul,"
He added, "you and I are men too wise
To waste strength here in mutual blame. Forgive
Me that I was so far led on to speak
As if retorting word for word unkind.
I should have made allowance for your state,
Devoid of that just self-complacency
So needful to a happy health of mind.
Now you and I at bottom are such twins,
We ought to understand each other well;
It is a shame that this has not been so.
Here we are one in aim, and unity
In aim—what deeper unity than that
Joins ever man and man? Let us strike hands
Together, since our hearts beat unison."

Not less revolted at these words was Saul,
More, rather, that he knew how insincere
They were, how hollow, as how void of truth,
Spoken in pure malicious irony.
The sense of difference his from Shimei,
Browbeaten in him, badgered, stunned, ashamed,
Could not rejoice in thought, in speech far less,
Against that flourished claim of unity.
He stood silent, ignobly helpless, while
Maliciously his pastime further took
With him his captor, who then, sated, said:
"Well, Saul, I shall excuse it to a mind
In you disordered through late loss of sleep,
That you do not invite me in to sit
A little at my ease while I disclose
The thought I had in coming to you now.
Nay, nay"—for Saul, broken in self-command
False shame to feel, and false self-blame, as found
Defaulting dues of hospitality,
Instinctive moved toward making Shimei guest—
"Permit me to decline the courtesy.
You are tired, you are very tired, and you should rest.
Once within, seated, I might stay too long,
Bound by the charms of your society.

"I pray you be not overmuch disturbed,
But really you should know it, Saul, the chance
You fell in with this night at Bethany—
I mean your meeting of your sister there
Confessed a bold disciple of the Way—
Is likely to engender consequence.
It was a noble chance, Saul, from the Lord,
Pushed to your hand—would you had used it nobly!
Alas, at the extreme pinch, your virtue failed!
I can excuse it, while regretting it,
I myself, Saul. Not every one, I fear,
Is naturally so lenient as I am.
My sympathy is facile, but the most
Will say, 'Why did not Saul send her to prison?'
Now what you need is, to forestall such talk
By giving people something else to say.
Fill their mouth full with daily fresh report
Of other, and still other, great exploits
Achieved by you in the same line, and then
They either will forget that one lapse yours,
Or cease, from the perversion of a sister,
Connived at or colluded with by you,
To accuse a taint and pravity of blood
Inclining you yourself to heresy.

"I give myself no end of trouble for you,
And I have made discovery of the man
You must not fail to move for as next prize.
He is a notable fellow, full of quip,
Quaint turn of phrase, and ready repartee,
Each trick of tongue to catch the common ear,
And mischievous accordingly; for he
Boasts everywhere how, having been born blind
And grown to forty years of age in blindness,
He one day met Jesus of Nazareth,
When that deceiver spat upon the ground
And mixed an unguent of the clay, therewith
Smearing his sightless balls, and bidding him
Go wash them in the pool of Siloam;
He went and washed, and came a seeing man.

"Such is his story, and so plausibly
He tells it that a wide belief he wins.
'Hirani' is the name by which he goes;
Name self-assumed since his pretended cure,
A kind of label that he boldly thrusts
In people's faces to placard his lie.
'He made me see'—he, to wit, Jesus, mind—
As were no other 'he' in all the world!
Well, this Hirani to be weaver feigns,
Mere cover to that other trade he drives—
A famous flourishing one with him, they say—
Proselyte-making for the Nazarene.
Clap him in prison, Saul, let him repeat
His marvel to the unbelieving walls.
At present, many of the Way are fled
Hither and thither through the countryside,
But this man tarries to rehearse his tale.
So there your plan is, ready-wrought for you;
Now, Saul, go sleep upon it, and farewell."

Man through malicious mind more miserable,
More miserable man from every cause
Of inward sorrow save malicious mind,
Never were met and parted than when there
Shimei found Saul and left him thus that morn.
Once more Saul visited his couch in vain;
Sleep could he not, could not but round and round
Tread the treadmill of painful barren thought,
On this fixed only, with resentful will,
Not to do that which Shimei pressed him to.
So, having eaten, without appetite,
He flung forth in the street dispirited—
Aimless, nor on the way through hope to aim,
Hopeless, nor on the way through aim to hope—
Irresolute, deject, energiless,
Therefore the destined prey of whatso snare
Should sudden first waylay his nerveless foot—
Forth in the street flung, at his door to meet
An ambushed messenger of Shimei's,
Who from his master gave him written word:
"The Sanhedrim to sit this afternoon
In council on the case you will present.
All feel the utmost flattering confidence
That Saul will promptly bring his prisoner in.
The bearer of this can guide you to your man."

'Himself false witness now become, the wretch!'
Thought Saul. 'This buyer of false witnesses
Has falsely told my brethren that I put
Myself in pledge to do a special task,
His bidding, and has got the council called
In expectation on their part from me
That I will bring them in this man to judge—
Death doubtless meant, instead of prison, for him!
The wretch, the perjured wretch, and damnable!
Yet for me what escape? Alternative
None offers. Yea, denounce might I the man
Even to his teeth before them all a liar—
But to what profit? He could truly say
I listened, not demurring, when he broached
This his new plan, as I had done before
Concerning the arrests at Bethany
By him projected, meekly made by me!
I should seem caviller, than he more false,
And trifler with the ancient majesty
Prescriptive of the Sanhedrim.'
Saul writhed
With all the frail remainder of his force,
Writhed—and submitted. With the guide he went,
And the man found whom he, under duress
Resented, sought. The invisible chains which then
That captive captor wore, far worse galled him
Than those whereof he plained at Bethany.
Master more cruel yet the devil can be
Than vehement conscience blinded by self-will.
Pride driving makes an intimate misery,
But a more intimate misery pride driven!

At his loom seated—there his handicraft,
Late learned by him after sight given him late,
Busily plying—Saul's intended prey,
With his hands weaving, as the shuttle flew,
A fabric of coarse cloth, wove with his tongue,
That subtler shuttle in the loom of thought,
Discourse simple yet sage, for those to hear,
A goodly audience, who had gathered round
Him in his place of labor out-of-doors
Under an awning stretched that fenced the sun—
Drawn thither by the fame of what he told,
A strange experience never man's before.

"Thou art disciple of the Nazarene?"
Abruptly so, intruding, Saul inquired.
The accent of authority that spoke
In him, the masterful demeanor his,
All felt, and of the listeners some, afraid,
Withdrew in silence; but the sifted more
Who stayed clouded their aspect, and, with grim
Mutter in undertone exchanged between
Them, each with other, asked or answered who
This was that rudely thus and threateningly
Broke in upon them. Saul! the Sanhedrim!
Were dreaded names, but red runs Jewish blood,
And hot, and quick, and those affronted men
Scarce waited for their neighbor seen thus scorned
To answer yea to his stern challenger,
Ere they together moved in mass about
Saul unattended, naked of all arms
Save his authority, and, hustling him,
Seemed on the verge of using violent hands
To thrust him forth—nay, to Saul's ears there came
That pregnant word, ready on Jewish tongues,
Yet readier hardly than to Jewish hands
The deed, word full of instant menace, "Stones!"

Saul knew his danger and his helplessness;
But, far from terror, though not void of fear,
Blanching not blenching, he a tonic breath
Drew, in an air that to another man
Had softened all his fibre or dissolved.
Vanished that mood of feebleness he brought,
And in its place a resolute, alert,
Defiant sense of self-sufficing strength
Supported him, nay, buoyed him almost gay,
As thus, with bitter words, he taunted them:
"Yea, now ye show what lessons ye have learned
Of unresisting meekness at the feet
Of this your teacher—then not to resist
When ye are certain to be overpowered!
But twenty of you to one man are brave!
Nay, but one man may twenty of you scorn.
Back, there! Stand back! This man my prisoner is.
I, Saul, commissioned by the Sanhedrim,
Summon and seize him to appear this day
Before their just tribunal to be judged
As self-confessed disciple of the Way.
Follow me thou! Make way before me there!"

The peremptory tone, the audacity,
The prompt aggressive movement, with the proud,
High, lordly speech disdainful, the assured
Serene assumption of authority
Enforced by personal will as strong as power—
These for a moment's space surrounded Saul
With that inviolable immunity,
The nameless spell which perfect courage casts;
Nay, so far gave him full ascendant there
That he quite to his man his way had made
And on a shoulder laid the arresting hand.
But stay! not quelled, suspended only, seems
The indignant angry humor of the crowd.
Scarce has Saul uttered his last scornful words
And turned to front the men about him massed—
Not doubting but, with only the drawn sword
Of his fixed forward countenance, he shall
This side and that before him cleave a way
Wide from amid them forth to pass—upon
Such hinging-point scarce poises Saul, when they,
With many-handed violence, seize him
And, irresistibly uplifting, bear
Helpless, headforemost, ignominiously,
Whither they will.

In vain Hirani cries,
By turns rebuking and beseeching them;
In vain he follows, warning them beware
To involve themselves in risk fruitless for him;
In vain implores them even for Jesus' sake,
Whose name will be dishonored by their deed;
Presents himself in vain a prisoner
Willing to go with Saul unmanacled;
In vain avouches he, in any case,
Shall yield his person to the Sanhedrim,
Doubtless to suffer but the heavier doom
For what is doing, unless they refrain.
Hirani had adjured them by the name
Of Jesus, but those heady men, that name,
That mastership, owned not, Jews only still,
Still in the changed new spirit all unschooled.
So by their own mad motion ever mad
Growing, they hurtle Saul along the way—
He the while musing, with mind strangely clear,
How like to Stephen's lot his own is now!—
Till chance unlooked-for their wild turbulence stays.

All had been teemed from Shimei's fruitful brain.
First, he had mixed the listening crowd around
The weaver at that moment with base men,
His creatures, who, for hirelings' pay, should stir
Their neighbors up to wreak indignity
Upon Saul's person, wounding to his pride,
And in the public view disparaging.
Then, at the point of need, to succor Saul,
Bringing his haughty colleague under debt
To himself, Shimei, for his very life—
This was that crafty plotter's next concern.
A band accordingly of men-at-arms,
Sworn in the service of the Sanhedrim,
He had made ready; and these now appeared
Confronting that tumultuary crowd.
Saul rescued—not without some disarray
And soil of rent apparel, hair and beard
Dishevelled, and disfigured countenance,
His person thus disparaged to the eye,
Hirani, as ringleader of the rout,
Chained and brought forward, while go free, but blamed
For being misled, the others—Shimei then
To view emerges. He addresses Saul:
"Well met! That fellow, with his crew of like,
Treated you badly, Saul. You might have prayed
To be delivered into Stephen's hands
From tender mercies such as theirs! I trust
You have not suffered worse than what I see,
Some slight derangement of apparel shown,
Your hair and beard less sleek than might beseem,
With here and there a scratch scored on your face—
Nothing more serious, let me trust? Our men
Were at the nick of time in coming up.
It was not pure coincidence. You see,
Both knowing your mettle and the vicious ways
These sanctimonious ruffians have at times,
I had misgivings that you might be rash,
And suffer disadvantage at their hands.
So, as in like case you would do by me,
I, with these faithful servitors of ours,
Run to your rescue here, and not too soon!
A little later would have been too late.
You were well started down the steep incline,
Which, very happily, as I learn, you styled
'The way of Stephen and all heretics.'
Droll, very, with of course its serious side,
Queer irony, you know, of will Divine,
Supposing they had really stoned you, Saul!
Well, well, it turns out better than your fears.
You will not, true, and I lament it, make
Quite a triumphal entry with your man
Before the Sanhedrim, leading him in,
With air of captain fresh from glorious war,
Who brings proud trophy of his single spear
Redoubtable; but the main point is ours,
The man we want is safe in custody."

Thus Shimei with his devilish sneering glee
Nettled the heart of Saul and cheered his own.

Before the council Shimei stood forth,
Instead of Saul, to accuse the prisoner.
With plausible glib mendacity, he said:
"Not only is this fellow heretic
After the manner of those Galilæans,
But myself saw with mine own eyes just now
How he the idlers in the street stirred up
To most unseemly act of violence
Against our brother Saul, worthy of death,
As being aimed at death, unless that I
Had ready been at hand with force enough
To rescue one of our own number thus
To the most imminent brink of stoning brought.
Saul, if he would, might show himself to you
In lively witness of the things I say."

Hereon to Saul he signed with hand and eye;
But Saul arose and calmly, with disdain,
Thus spoke: "The man here present prisoner
Is, out of his own mouth, disciple proved
Of Jesus Nazarene. As such I sought
To bring him hither before you to be judged.
This my attempt, most unexpectedly,
A crowd of idlers round about him drawn
Vacantly listening to discourse from him,
Resented; they, resisting, thrust me back—
I had ventured single-handed and alone—
And, borne to madness, might perhaps have wrought
Some harm to me—I know not; but one thing
I know, and that I freely testify,
This man, our prisoner, did nought of all,
Contrariwise, with all his eloquence
Endeavored to dissuade those violent,
Constantly saying and averring he,
In any case, should, of his own free will,
Give himself up to you—thereby to clear
The Name he sought to honor of reproach
For wild deeds done as in defence of him."

A moment, having heard Saul testify,
The Sanhedrim sat silent in fixed thought.
Then Shimei, ever easily equal found
To his occasion, when need seemed to him
Of whatsoever fraud in word or act,
Said that of course from brother Saul was heard
Never aught other than he deemed was true;
But the fact was, as would by witnesses
Be amply proved, that all this culprit's show
Of zeal to stay those rioters back was show
Merely, dust in the eyes of Saul to cast,
Or rather sport to make of him, the prey
Secure supposed of his, the prisoner's,
Malicious machination through the hands
Of his confederates, or tools, who knew
Better their master's purposes, his real
Purposes, than his feigned dissuasive words
To heed, and let his victim go. Saul's state
Was at the moment such, so ill at ease
His mind—why, even his body in that vile
Duress was hardly to be called his own—
Saul—and without offence would Shimei say it—
Might be regarded as not competent
On this particular point to testify.
At all events, here were good witnesses
Who, from a safer, steadier point of view
Than Saul's, and longer occupied, could tell
Both what the prisoner's wont had been to teach,
And what he instigated in this case.

With such preamble to prepare their minds,
Minds used to guess the drift of Shimei's wish,
This arch-artificer of fraud produced
As witnesses the men whom he had late
Mixed with Hirani's audience to foment
That lawlessness. Such serviceable tongues
Failed not to swear, in all, as Shimei wished.

Saul, in his secret mind with anguish torn,
Gazed at the man forsworn against, maligned,
And almost envied him. A look of peace
Was on him like a light of fixéd stars,
So constant, and so inaccessible
Of change through jar, through stain, so clear, so fair!
He listened to the voices round him loud,
As if some softer voice from farther sent
Made ever an inner music to his mind
Charming him with a melody unheard.
He saw the things, the faces, and the forms,
About him nigh, as if he looked beyond
Or through them, and beheld far, far away
Or whom or what to others was unseen.

So when the high-priest, from his middle seat
Among the councillors, accosted him,
Asking, "To all these things what sayest thou?"
The prisoner, like one absent-minded brought
To sudden sense of present things, replied:
"I hardly understand what 'these things' are,
For otherwhither I was drawn in thought.
But if it be inquired concerning Him
Whom lately they not knowing crucified,
Why, this I answer for my testimony:
'Let there be light,' said God, and light there was.
Almost thus did that Man of Nazareth,
Creative, speak for me, and changed my world
Of native darkness to this cheerful scene
Above, beneath, about me, sudden spread,
And sun and moon and stars for me ordained.
I praise Him as the Lord of life and light,
And Giver of light and life to dead and blind.
All glory to His ever-blesséd Name!"

The simple ecstasy from which he spoke,
Illuminated, and the holy power
Of truth, in witness such, meekly so borne,
Wrought even upon the jealous Sanhedrim
An influence which they could not resist,
And a pang shot to the inmost heart of Saul.
A faltering of compunction close on shame
Made the high-priest half-tenderly, with tone
As of a father toward a child in fault,
Say: "Nay, my son, deceived art thou; of will
Surely thou dost not utter blasphemy.
If so be demon power had leave from God
To give thee back one day what demon power
Had erst one day from God had leave to take
Away, thy sight—be glad indeed, but fear
To yield wrongly thy praise to demon power
Permitted; all to God permissive yield.
Glory belongs to God alone. My son,
Bethink thee now betimes and save thy soul.
'Jesus of Nazareth anathema!'
Those words repeat for all to hear, and go
Acquitted hence of that thy blasphemy."

So the high-priest to him, but he replied:
"Blinded again I should expect to be,
My eyeballs blasted to the roots of sight,
Nay, worse, my inner seeing quenched in dark,
Forever and forevermore past cure,
Were I to speak that Name except to praise.
Glory to God and glory to His Son,
Forever and forever in the heavens,
The heaven of heavens, seated at His right hand!"

"A bold blasphemer!" so, discordant, shrieked
Suddenly Shimei, the spell to break
He feared those simple, solemn, holy words
Again might cast upon the Sanhedrim.

The chance for heaven precarious is on earth
Ever, and now the heavenly chance was lost,
Such counter breath unable to withstand.
Those half-rapt souls reverted to themselves,
And brooked to listen—nay, assent gave they,
Even Saul too gave assent wrung out!—when, next,
"Stripes for his back!" sharply shrilled Shimei;
"Good forty stripes less one may save his soul!
He loves his blasphemy, give him his fill,
Whet him his appetite, make him blaspheme
His own Lord God, the man of Nazareth.
For that thrice damnéd name require from him,
At every lash, an imprecation loud,
On pain of instant death should one curse fail!"

So there with cruel blows was scourged the man,
At every blow he crying out aloud
Joy that he might thus suffer for that Name,
And, baffled, they gnashing their teeth on him.
"His madness has infected all his flesh,"
Screamed Mattathias; "cure there is but one.
Destroy his flesh with stones, let his flesh rot!"

This also they, beside themselves with rage,
Rage rabid from the sight of bloodshed vain,
Resolved—resolving with them likewise Saul!
Without the gate they thrust their victim forth,
And there stoned him calling upon the name
Of Jesus to his last expiring breath.

That night, the violated body, left
There where it fell by those his murderers
To be of ravening beast or bird the prey,
Was thence, with reverent rite, by unseen hands
Borne to a sepulchre, with spices wrapt
In linen pure and fine, and laid away
In secret, not unwept or unbewailed
Of such as loved him for the love he bore,
Quenchless by death, to the Belovéd Name.

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