The next day, the Sabbath, was quietly spent by the Galileans, discussing how they might take the body of Jesus to Nazareth. Magdalene all the while contended against every proposition introduced, she did not want to have the body removed, she did not want to go home, neither did she eat or drink, was on her feet all day, often visiting the tomb and kneeling before it.
ALONE ON OLIVET
The storm is past—the scene ended. As stranded wrecks along the shore, evidence of the awful night on the tempest tossed sea, so the Galileans, with broken hearts, lie restless near old Zion's walls, while the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth becomes simply a page of record in the history of our strange world.
Magdalene lingers in the twilight at Joseph's tomb until the mother of Jesus brings her away, and pleadingly tries to convince her that it may be a part of God's wise plan to awaken the world and lead wanderers home.
At last she seemingly becomes quiet, and as the mother smooths her silken hair she feigns rest, in sleep, but when all is still she silently steals away in the shadows to the Mount of Olives. At the top she hesitates, shudders, scowls and then laughs hysterically, as she draws her sleeping frock closer around her unprotected form.
Standing alone, her scant attire fluttering in the cold north breeze, she suddenly awakens; with outstretched arms breaths softly, "Yes, I'll come," then, bowing low, whispers, "I thought I heard him call," then, strangely wild, proclaims, "No—no—I am not mad, I know he is dead, he'll call me Mary nevermore."
Turning back, she shrugged her shoulders, seeming herself again, and while gazing over the Jordan to the far away Moabite hills she murmurs, "Somewhere in those vine-clad hills the childhood home of pretty Ruth once lay, and here so near, on Bethlehem's plain, she gleaned and gleaned until she won his heart; but now she is dead, they are all dead. They come again no more.
"Oh, my soul, hast thou no home? Oh, evening star, beautiful heavenly light, wilt thou find rest in the ocean waves, and Magdalene find none, oh spangled heavens and God? Could I this night lay down to sleep in the swelling bosom of the Mediterranean Sea never to awake, never to remember more. Oh, that I could sleep forever in a starless night that knows no morning."