The Epic of Paul

by William Cleaver Wilkinson

"Go find lord Felix, and, due worship paid,
Pray him come hither for a need that waits,"
So Julius made his soldier messenger.
"Grieving to trouble thee so far," he next
To Felix, soon appearing, said: "I sent
To ask thee of the Jew in presence here.
Knowest thou aught of him that might resolve
A doubt how much he be to trust for true?"
Shimei shrank visibly, while Felix, glad
To vent his hatred of the pander, spoke:
"As many as his words, so many lies;
Trust him thou mayest—to never speak the truth."
Wherewith the haughty freedman on his heel
Turned, as disdaining to use tongue or ear
Further in such a cause, and disappeared.
Julius in silence looked a questioning pause
At Shimei, who risked parrying answer, thus:
"Lord Felix is a disappointed man,
Who, if so soured, is gently to be judged.
Yet were it better he had stooped to speak
By instance, named occasion, wherein I
Had seemed to fail matching my words with deeds.
I own I sought to serve him in his need;
And if, forsooth, when he his hold on power
Felt slipping from his hands, I undertook
Freely, in succor of his fainting mind,
Somewhat beyond my strength to bring to pass,
In reconcilement of my countrymen
Against his sway unwontedly aggrieved—
Why, I am sorry; but failed promises,
Made in good faith, should not be reckoned lies."

There seemed to the centurion measure enough
Of reason in what Shimei so inferred,
If truly he inferred, to leave the doubt
Still unresolved with which he was perplexed.

While the diversion of the incident
With Felix, and of Shimei's parrying, passed,
The soldier, so released to cast about
At leisure, thought of Stephen standing up,
In that so Sphinx-like silence, startlingly,
Beside him, in the darkness on the deck,
At just the fatal point of his own poise
For the returnless plunge in the abyss;
That Hebrew youth would doubtless testify
To Shimei's damning;—to his own as well?
That were to think of! What would Stephen say?
Must it not cloud his own clear truth and faith,
To have it told how he abode so long
A hearkener to temptation; how he took
Gold as for bribe, and greedy seemed of more?
Why had he not been first to speak of that?
Wisest it looked to him not to invoke
A witness of so much uncertain power
To bring his own behavior into doubt.
And Shimei showed such master of his part,
Equal to shifting all appearances
This way or that, as best would serve himself,
Promised so fair to make his side prevail,
Were it not well to choose the chance with him?
The soldier fixed to stake on Stephen naught.

Shimei meantime had otherwise bethought
Himself of Stephen—fearing, yet with hope
Prevailing over fear: hardly would he,
The soldier, risk to call such witness in.

Those twain diversely so with the same thought
Secretly busy, the centurion—
Whether by some unconscious sympathy
His mind drawn into current following theirs,
Like idle sea-drift in the wake of ships—
Startled them both alike with his next word:
"That Hebrew lad, Stephen they call him, go
Fetch him; say, 'Come with me,' and no word more."
This to the soldier, who soon brought the youth.
"Some kin thou to the prisoner Paul, I think?"
Said the centurion. "Sister's son," said he.
"I had thee well reported of, my lad;
Belie not thy good fame, but answer true,"
Julius to Stephen spoke, adjuring him.
"Knowest thou aught, of thine own eye or ear,
How Paul thy kinsman was bestead last night?"

Now Stephen had not yet to Paul declared
Aught of the strange disclosures of the night.
Seeing here the plotter of that nameless deed
Demoniac, in the part of one accused,
Witnessed against with damning testimony,
The soldier's, all-sufficing for his doom,
Before a judge as Roman sure to be
Swift in his sentence upon such a crime—
Prompt in his secret mind Stephen resolved,
As likeliest best to please his kinsman Paul,
Not to go further than compelled, to add
Superfluous proof against the wretched man.

Sincerely wretched now indeed once more
Shimei appeared; effrontery of fraud
And his vain confidence of hope forlorn
Abashed in him, intolerably rebuked—
Not more by this access of evidence
(Unlooked for, since that muzzle to his mouth
Had so well served to hold the soldier mute
From mention of the Hebrew lad)—not more
Abashed thus and rebuked, than by the mere
Aspect of the clear innocence and truth
And virtue, honor and high mind, in fair
And noble person there embodied seen
In Stephen beamy with his taintless youth.
Was it some promise of retrieving yet
Possible for this soul, so lost to good,
That, broken from that festive confidence
Once his in the omnipotence of fraud
To answer all his ends, he thus should feel
Pain in the neighborhood of nobleness?
Unconsciously so working, like a wand
Wielded that cancels a magician's spell,
To shame back wretched Shimei to himself,
Nor ever guessing, in his guileless mind,
Of possible other posture to affairs
Than full exposure of the criminal
Already reached, no need of word from him—
Stephen to Julius frugally replied:
"Paul's case was happy, sir, if this thou meanest,
How fared he in the hap which him befell;"
Then, conscious of a look not satisfied
In Julius, added: "If instead thou meanest
What hap was threatened him but came to naught,
Then I shall need to answer otherwise."
"This I would learn," said Julius, "dost thou know,
Of certain knowledge, thine own eye or ear,
Where Paul was, and what doing, through the hours
Of last night's darkness? How was he bestead?
That tell me, if thou knowest, naught else but that.
Fact, first; thereafter, fancy—if at all."

A little puzzled, but withal relieved,
Not to be witness against Shimei,
"It happened," Stephen said, "that as the dark
Drew on, Paul with his sister Rachel talked,
They two apart; but nigh at hand I sat,
With others, on the deck. As the night waxed,
With darkness from the still-withdrawing sun,
And then from clouds that blotted out the stars,
Almost all went to covert one by one;
But Paul abode, and I abode with him.
Yet were we from each other separate,
And Paul perhaps knew not that I was nigh;
But I lay watching him and nursed my thoughts.
At first he paced, as musing, up and down,
Then, still alone, and still as musing, leaned,
In absent long oblivion of himself,
Over the vessel's side—into the sea
Gazing, like one who read a mystic book.
This and naught else he did, until a dash
Of rain-drops shredded from the tempest broke
His reverie; and then both he and I,
Meeting a moment but to say good-night,
Housed us for the forgetfulness of sleep."

"Thou hast told me all? Communication none
Between Paul and this soldier keeping him?"
Straitly of Stephen the centurion asked,
With eye askance on Shimei shrinking there.
"With no one," Stephen answered, "spake Paul word,
After that converse with his sister, till
I met him face to face and changed good night."

"Thou hadst some fancy other than thy fact,"
Said Julius now to Stephen, "some surmise
As seemed concerning danger threatened Paul"—
But Shimei dimmed so visibly to worse
Confession of dismay in countenance,
That Julius checked the challenge on his lips,
And, turning, said to Shimei: "Need we more?
Or art unmasked to thy contentment, Jew?
Shall I bid hither Paul, forsooth, and let
Thee face the uncle, since the nephew so,
Simply to see, thy gullet fills with gall,
And twists thy wizened features all awry?
Aye, for meseems it were a happy thought,
Go, lad, and call thy kinsman hither straight.
Stay, hast thou seen him since last night's farewell?"
"Nay," answered Stephen. "Well!" the Roman said;
"So tell him nothing now of what is here.
Say only, 'The centurion wishes thee';
Haste, bring him." Stephen soon returned with Paul,
Who wondered, knowing naught of all, to see
What the encounter was, for him prepared.