Thus far, as oft in dreams will chance, Saul lay
And helpless heard what irked him sore to hear;
But now, the loathing irrepressible
Excited by such hateful speech, roused him
To spurning that asunder broke the bonds,
The nightmare bonds, of sleep. He, full awake,
Groped with his hands about, dreading to feel
Shimei indeed couched nigh, as he had dreamed,
Breathing into his ear. No Shimei there!
He sprang upon his feet, and in the light
Of the waned moon, now risen, still large and fair,
Looked round and round—to find himself alone.
"A dream, then," Saul said, "only a hideous dream!
Thank God! How horribly real it seemed! How like
Must I have grown to him, to have had his thoughts!
What demon's doom only to have such thoughts!
Perhaps a demon whispered these now to me!
I could even pity Shimei, to be haunt
And harbor of his ceaseless evil thoughts—
Could pity, save that I detest too much.
I cannot be like him and loathe him so;
Or does he haply also loathe himself?
Then were I like, for sure I loathe myself!
What travesty it was of those my thoughts!
And not ignoble thoughts, though vain, they were.
The mad pranks that our dreaming brains will play!"
So musing, there Saul, on the mountain's brow,
Statue-like stood some moments in suspense;
Then slow descending to his house repaired.
A deep, deep draught of pure oblivion
In sleep drowned him until the morrow noon.
Prayer then, and then fast broken, and calmly Saul
The ill dream of his yesternight revolved.
What better project for fresh act than that
Which, gladly now he pondered, Shimei
Did not propose, but only Shimei's
False lively mimic counterfeit in sleep?
Yea, he would next, with prompt but circumspect
Audacity, the audacious head and front
Smite of this growing mischief, in those men
Styled the apostles of the Nazarene.
Saul knew within his heart that secretly
He dreaded this adventure; therefore he,
With will sardonically set, moved on
To undertake it. Twenty men of tried
True mettle, men with muscle iron-firm,
And mind seasoned, through many hazards run,
And long wont of impunity, to scorn
All danger—such a score of men chose Saul,
And, from them veiling yet his purpose, took,
With indirection intricate, his way
Toward where, as he, by diligent quest, had learned,
The twelve apostles used each day to meet
In secret from their prowling enemies;
But to the common people, loving them
For manifold miracles of beneficence,
Their secret meeting-place was not unknown.
As, gradually, Saul with his retinue
Drew near the spot, so large a following
Of arméd men, led by a chief whose fame
Was rife now through Jerusalem for deeds
And purposes of uttermost revenge
Against the Galilæan heresy,
Gathered about their course a growing crowd,
Who, urged by various thought and feeling, watched
What might that minatory march intend.
Reached thus at length the place, Saul stays his steps,
And, turning to his men in halt to hear,
Speaks, with that dense clear voice which tense will breeds:
"Here hide the twelve arch-heretics of all.
Ye come to take them hence bond prisoners,
For lodgment in a hold whence no escape,
That they may cease sedition to foment.
Duly the fathers of the Sanhedrim,
Wise warders of our Hebrew commonwealth,
Will thence adjudge them to their doom of death.
No waste of words in parley now, leave asked,
Terms offered, naught of that, no paltering pause,
Instantly, stroke on stroke, down with the door!"
But pause they did, those picked, use-hardened men;
They stood as struck with palsy or with fear.
"Traitors be ye, or cravens, which?" cried Saul—
Amazement, indignation, ire, disdain,
Effacing exhortation in his tone.
Then, mastering himself, less fiercely he
Chode them: "Whence and whereto is this? Mean ye,
Ye surely mean not, mutiny? Rouse, then,
With will; obey, your loyalty retrieve!"
But still they hung there moveless, until one,
Seeming the spokesman of his fellows, said:
"No mutineers, no traitors, cravens none,
Are we. But look around, and judge what means
This concourse of beholders"—"'Look around'?
Around look?" thundered Saul. "Nay, straight-on looks,
These sole, become stout hearts, staunch wills. 'Around'
Cease looking ye, and all right forward stare
To where yon door fronts you and you affronts.
Batter it down, and, staring forward, on!"
The vehement, vindictive, dense onslaught
Of that impatient, proud, imperious will
Smote like the missile of a catapult
Against the clamped immovable dead wall
Of fixed inert resistance to Saul's wish,
Which strangely, as one man, those men opposed.
That impact did not shake that stubborn strength,
Nor shiver back in staggering recoil—
Absorbed, annulled, annihilated, waste!
One infinitesimal instant, Saul a blind
Mad impulse felt—which, that same instant, he
Quenched in a simultaneous saner thought—
To rush single upon the door, with blank
Ridiculous demonstration of balked will
Indignant. "Me, then, seize, your chief contemned,"
Said Saul, "contemned, since not obeyed, and me
Deliver captive to the Sanhedrim,
Denounced unworthy of your trust, and theirs!"