"The blessing of the Jew who is called Jesus fill thy heart, most gracious Claudia, and the peace that cometh of his teaching rest thy soul. Farewell!" He again kissed the border of her cloak, hesitated, and turning abruptly, left the apartment.
When the curtain had swung into place shutting the slave from view, Claudia sat down and called her maids. "Unclasp my jewels and unbind my hair, Margara," she said wearily, throwing her cloak aside. "And thou, Zenobe, summon Pilate's servant with the wine. Thy master tarrieth, and delay improveth not the temper of a man when he would have his cups."
The servant had placed a tray of wine beside the couch of Pilate and the maids had gone out with the cloak and jewels when the approach of the Procurator was announced by a shout, the tramping of feet and clanking of arms. The door was thrown open wide and between two rows of soldiery standing stiff and shining as the spears in their hands, the Roman in royal purple and glittering winged helmet, entered.
"Greetings, Claudia! Dry am I as the Law of the Jews. Hath my wine been made ready?"
"Thy wine is ready."
He threw himself down on the couch saying, "And over it shall I return thanks, as do the Jews, that to-night doth end their uproar. No more for a year will they feed on lamb, roast whole with bitter sauce. For the impudence of the Jew would I fill his Temple with the gods of Rome and make of his holy place a dancing spot for virgins that be neither virgins nor veiled. The dogs!"
"Hath thy memory become shortened that thou dost not see back a space of months? Didst thou not try moving Caesarea to Jerusalem and putting thine image in the Temple? And did not these same dogs spread their necks at thy feet and court the sword rather than have their Temple desecrated? Yet more blood would have flown than that of the six thousand thou slew hadst thou not been made to remember that Pilate is not Caesar. It is not right, my Lord, to do evil, nay not to the neck of a dog."
"Whether the hand is that of Pilate or of Caesar, the sword of Rome determines what is right."
"Not so, my Lord Pilate. Might is not right unless it be right. In the jungle where hunters for the arena seek wild beasts, pythons and wolves and hyenas growl and scream, and the strong doth ever lick from his jaws the blood of the weak. To Rome all the earth is a jungle where Rome is the king lion, the fierce he-tiger, the unsatisfied she-wolf. And from the jaws of this Beast, the blood of nations drips and the groans of mangled slaves fall ever on the ear. Ever in my heart have I felt this is not right. Now hath arisen among the Jews, whose blood thou delightest to spill, one whose teaching I have felt before I ever heard of him. This one delighteth not in gleaming steel, nor screams of agony, nor running blood."
"Ho! Claudia! Where is the Jew whose heart taketh not delight in flashing steel, dying screams and running blood? Thinkest thou there be such? Then should thou feast thine eyes on the Passover sacrifice. Here are ten thousand priests with whetted blades which they do plunge in bleating throats until two hundred thousand lambs are slaughtered before the eyes of their great god Jehovah. Beside such slaughter as this that of the arena is but child's play."