MARY MAGDALENÉ.
Paul declines to undertake the healing of Simon at Felix's request. But Simon had first refused to suffer Paul's access to him, at the same time warning both Felix and Drusilla of the evil likely to result to their little son from a touch to him of Paul's hand which the sick sorcerer had just observed through the lattice. Felix and Drusilla, freshly angered at Paul, resolve together on his destruction. A second meeting assembles to hear Mary's story. This time there is an interruption occasioned by a disturbing written message from Felix, sent to Julius the centurion, one of the listeners.
MARY MAGDALENÉ.
When one set high, but hopeless gross in grain
Of nature—and through habit of license long
And self-indulging pride of place and power
Grown grosser—by reverse of fortune falls,
And can no longer wield his insolence
So widely as his wish were and his wont
Has been, then often he will salve himself
That sore-felt loss of brutal privilege
By being more insolent still where yet he may:
So Felix now wreaked his revenge on Paul.
Paul knew him powerless, but he would not turn
Retort on the humiliated man,
Or aught abate toward him the obeisance due
The ruler that he lately was—a strict
Respect enforced by his own self-respect.
Felix had with fair princely promises—
Commended to those simple islanders
By large report of recent royal state
His and of prospects brighter yet at Rome,
As by Drusilla's airs of queen—made shift
To lodge himself commodiously with his train:
Under his roof apart Simon lay sick.
"Thou hast heard doubtless what I would from thee"—
So without greeting Felix said to Paul—
"Thy trick of healing for a gentleman
I have the humor to regard with love.
A fellow-countryman of thine he is,
Something too of a fellow-conjurer"—
And Felix grinned at his own pleasantry;
"He has fallen sick in this accurséd place.
'Physician, heal thyself,' thou wilt say to him,
For, aye, he is helpless for his own relief.
Heal him; thou shalt not unrewarded go.
I think that I can serve thy cause at Rome,
Where there is need greater than thou wouldst guess.
For they love justice there so well they sell
It high; great sums, money in hand, they want;
Or preferably sometimes they will commute
For other things than money still dearer to men.
A mighty mart is Rome; they barter there
Justice for pleasure, pleasure in various kinds,
Most of it such as thou couldst not provide—
Unless indeed thy pretty countrywoman—"
But a sharp spearthrust look, shot forth from Paul,
Sudden as lightning and as branding bright,
Broke that word off, and Felix faltered on
With forced resumption of his insolence:
"A good round price they ask, whatever the kind.
Have me for friend at court and thou shalt thrive.
Simple and easy; make this gentleman well,
Nothing but that; just a few mumbled words,
A magic touch of hand, presto, all's done.
What thou art giving to these wretches here,
These beggarly Melitans, with no reward
Except the fun of seeing them jump for joy,
Look, I am purchasing from thee at great price.
But stay, thy patient has not yet been told
What thus is planned for him. Let me prepare
Thy way a little, ere thy task thou try."
When Felix entered where the sorcerer lay
The peevish sick man was the first to speak:
"That Paul had little Felix by the hand;
Just now I saw him through the lattice here.
It is an evil hand, beware of it.
Its touch brings certain mischief where he will,
And that toward thee and thine he will, be sure."
Felix was startled, but he cheerily said:
"Go to, I was just bargaining with Paul
To have him use his laying on of hands
For thee, good Simon. Cheer thee up, my man;
We shall soon have thee out of this." But he:
"Paul shall not touch me, shall not look at me.
I fear him, and I hate him; out upon him!"
"Listen to reason, Simon," Felix said;
"Thou canst not doubt he really works strange cures;
There was the father of Sir Publius,
And scores of sick among this native rabble
Have come out whole from under those same hands."
"It served his turn," piped Simon. "It shall serve
No less his turn to heal thee," Felix said;
"I have made it his account to play us true."
"Hark thee, my master, for this word stands fast,"
Said Simon, rousing halfway from his bed,
"I will have none of Paul; I will get well
From spite, rather than have those hands on me."
And Simon moved in act as if to rise;
But Felix stayed him still his bed to keep.
Then, thwarted, he returned to Paul, and said:
"He will not let thee lay thy hands on him,
A fit of foolish stubbornness, he fears
Thee, or pretends he fears; he certain hates
Thee, no pretence. Well, he is right perhaps;
You fellow-Jews ought to know one another.
But I would trust thee, Roman as I am."
(Vaunting his Roman franchise Felix thus
His clinging freedman's quality betrayed);
"That is, safe pledge in hand, thou understandest,
Such as I hold, thou knowing well thy life
Hangs on my word for thee at Rome; would trust
Thee, nay, I trust thee, Paul, and thou shalt yet
Despite this worthy's Jewish contumacy,
Heal him, ha! ha! without his knowing it.
Put him to sleep, thou canst; thou hast the drugs
Doubtless will soundly do it; compound them thou,
And I will undertake he swallows them.
Then thou canst fetch thy passes with the hand
At leisure over all his ailing frame,
And heal him—joke as it were at his expense!"
Paul had stood listless with his eyes downcast
And with his heart withdrawn from what he heard,
And Felix had felt effect that penetrated
Yea even his triple mail of insolence
And dashed him sore; he had rallied all his force
Against it to maintain his tone assumed
Of falsely-festive brutal cynicism.
Helplessly dumb he hearkened, while Paul replied:
"Lord Felix cannot know the grace of God,
Whereof mine is but trust and stewardship.
My power of healing is not mine, but God's;
I have it, not to use it as I will,
But as God wills, who shows His will to me.
I dare not, would not, use it otherwise,
I could not, He would take it away from me;
Would not continue it rather, for it is
Dependent momently on His immanent will.
I had no hint from Him as of behest
That I accomplish thine announced desire.
I might have promptly sent thee back such word
By thine own messenger; but I had seemed
So to be wanting somewhat in the heed
Due to thy station; I therefore came myself
To tell thee, O lord Felix, to thy face,
That I am servant of the Most High God,
Subject as such to no man's bidding, thine
Or other's, and not free to mine own choice.
Yet so I half misrepresent myself,
For to mine own choice I feel wholly free,
My choice being His who works in me to choose.
Toward Simon, although he love me not, I bear,
God is my witness, no ill will; instead,
Would I could serve him! and perhaps I might,
I know not, were his heart but right with God.
Let him renounce his ways of wickedness;
God to all men is good who will repent.
But His face is as fire not to be quenched,
Wrathful, devouring to the uttermost,
Against all, no respect of person, who
Strengthen themselves in their iniquity.
None shall escape at last, although, because
God's judgment is a while delayed, they may
Dream that it never will descend on them.
Delay is but forbearance, not neglect;
God's goodness leadeth to repentance; woe,
Woe, yea, and sevenfold woe, alight on those,
All, who despise that grace of God in Christ!"