He has a speech that he has often made
How first he persecuted, for in truth Agrippa
He is a catapult that has sprung up
As far as he was pulled the other way.
And he will tell you how he stoned this Stephen,
And hunted Nazarenes: and how he went
With writs of persecution from the priests
Up to Damascus, on the way saw light
From heaven, heard the voice of Jesus cry
That he should be a minister to the faith,
And preach as he had persecuted. You see
The rebound of nature, mind.
Berenice
How thin,
How pale he is, how bright his eyes! Agrippa
Confine him to the matter of this god
Who died, and from the dead arose. O Death,
You are man’s horror, and we brood upon you,
Our altars are placations to your wrath.
This Paul is mad for thinking of you, mad
With faith that he has conquered you. Look there!
See how his eyes are staring bright as fire—
I am afraid. And yet if it were true
Jesus arose, nay if the world could be
Persuaded that he rose, the faith would sweep
The world with fire, and crumble every temple
And altar of our gods in almighty Rome.
Look how he stares!
Agrippa
There is a noble madness,
A madness which has slaved nobility
And energy and eloquence. Say now
Who saw this Jesus after he arose?
Did Paul? Who saw him?
Festus
No one that I know.
Not Paul. He says a multitude. Some disciples,
Some women, and one Peter.
Agrippa
Where are they?
Bring one to me. Bring Peter; bring a woman.
This is the cause I’d hear. And if this Paul
Can bring me witness, though his crime were great
As Hannibal’s on Rome, I’ll set him free.
Why look at him! Is this new matter to me?
Is he the first who for the gods went mad?
Or for the mystery of life went mad?
Or madness took for what we are and why,
And what this life means? For this world has seen
A perfect harmony and working thought
And inspiration in a thousand minds
Of madness on some matter. Fellow, come
Close here before me. Look at me. Yes, well,
There is the light of rising suns, and stars
That burn immortally, in your eyes. Now speak.
Did Jesus die?
Paul