The man with the wallet had his hand on the gold, and the man with the heavy sword had his hand well held out for the gift, when a woman appeared suddenly before them and said to the soldier, "Lift not thy hand against the bones of the Jew!"
"What meanest thou—follower of the Jew?" the soldier replied angrily.
"Nay, not a follower of the Jew am I. Yet I know he was a just man."
"Thou dost lie with clumsy tongue," the soldier declared. "Thou art one of his followers."
"Whether I lie, or whether I lie not, break not a bone of the Jew's body!"
"Thou art a cunning follower of the Jew, and bold. Yet shall his bones be broken. Move thou on farther from the cross. Stand to one side," and he lifted his broad sword.
"And when did it come to pass," she said without moving, "that a dog of a soldier lifted the sword against a Roman?"
"A Roman? In my eye, a Roman," and the soldier laughed.
"Yea, a Roman—and more than a Roman. Let thine eyes look!" With the words Claudia threw back the long cloak and stood forth in the gorgeous apparel of a Roman noblewoman. The soldiers moved back a step and looked in wonderment as she spoke again. "A Roman? More than a Roman is Claudia Procula, wife of Pontius Pilate! Knowest thou, bone-breakers of the Tower of Antonio, who Pilate is? Not a follower of the Jew am I, but by the ring upon my hand I am the wife of the Roman Procurator, and I say to thee, not a bone of this just man's body shall be broken, else with thy broken body wilt thou pay bone for bone!"
The soldiers moved back a few steps farther. Then one said, "And when hath it come to pass that Pilate's wife giveth orders?"