Mary Magdalene: A Play In Three Acts/Act I
ACT I:
(The gardens of ANNCEUS SILANUS at Bethany. A Roman terrace. A quincunx. Marble benches, porticoes, and statues. In the center, there is a basin with a fountain. Arbors. Orange-trees and laurel-trees are in the stone vases. A balustrade on the right side and the left side, overlooking the valley. A balustrade at the back side, open at the middle to give access to a walk lined with plane-trees and statues and ending in a thick hedge of laurels which closes the garden.)
SCENE I:
(Enter ANNCEUS SILANUS and LUCIUS VERUS.)
SILANUS: Here is the terrace, the glory of my little domain: it reminds me of my terrace at Praneste, which was the crown of my desires. Here are my orange-trees, my cypresses and my oleanders. Here is the fish pond, the portico with the images of the gods: one of them is a statue of Minerva, discovered at Antioch. (Pointing to the landscape on the left.) And here you have the incomparable view over the valley, where spring already reigns. We hang midway in space. Admire the anemones streaming down the slopes of Beth any. It is as though the earth were ablaze beneath the olive-trees. Here I relish in peace the advantages of old age, which knows how to take pleasure in the past; for youth narrows the enjoyment of good things, by considering only those which are present. . . .
VERUS: At last! Here are trees and water and grass! . . . . I had lost the memory of them since my arrival in this stony desert which men call Judea. . . . But how comes it, Oh my good master, that you have taken up your abode near that dull and barren city, where the soil is abominable, where the men are ugly, churlish, crafty and mischievous, unclean and barbarous?
SILANUS: As you know, I came with the Procurator Valerius Gratus to Caesarea; then I returned to Rome, where you were for some time my faithful and favorite pupil. But soon I became ashamed of teaching a wisdom whose certainties be came more doubtful to my mind as the assurance wherewith I proclaimed them Mary Magdalene increased. I was brought back here, to this barbarous Judea, by the strangest curiosity. During my first sojourn, I had begun to study the sacred books of the Jews. They are crude and bloodthirsty; but they also contain beautiful myths and the early efforts of an uncivilized but, at times, singular wisdom. They have not yet wearied me.
VERUS: Yes, our friend Appius, whom I met at Antioch, told me of your studies and of your sudden and inordinate passion for old Jewish books....
SILANUS: He will be here shorty....
VERUS: Who? Appius?....Is he at Jerusalem?
SILANUS: Did you not know? . . . But how long have you yourself been in this country? . . . In your letter of two days since, you did not tell me. . . .
VERUS: Nearly a week; and I wished to give my first leisure to you. I left Antioch to go to Jerusalem with the Procurator Pontius Pilate. He fears disturbances and will probably need the help of my old legionaries. . . .
SILANUS: The spacious, ample Appius, whose words are as rambling as his habits and bring together the most distant friends, spoke to me of you, even as he spoke to you of me. He told me that, when he had the good fortune to meet you at Antioch, you seemed a prey to some great unhappy love. . . .
VERUS: Which was that?
SILANUS: What ! Can the handsomest of the military tribunes, in his magnificent array, know more than one love that is not happy? ... It concerned a woman of these regions, a Galilean, if I be not mistaken. . . .
VERUS: Mary of Magdala? . . . Did he speak to you of her? . . . Where is she? ... I did not see her again; she left Antioch suddenly; and I lost trace of her. . . .
SILANUS: But why did she not listen to you ? . . .Appius declared to me that she sets the men of this country, it is true, at naught, but shows herself not at all inexorable to the Roman knights. . . .
VERUS: It is one of those riddles of womankind which our duties as soldiers hardly leave us time to solve. She did not appear to dislike me; at least, the dislike which she affected was not without a harsh gentle ness. . . . But there was mingled with it a certain incomprehensible dread, which made her timidly avoid me. . . . Be sides, she seemed lately to have suffered a great sorrow, for which she has already, I hear, consoled herself more than once. . .
SILANUS: I do not know; and all this does not seem to me so very discouraging. After all, why afflict one's self with what the gods created for pleasure? . . . Appius, therefore, wished me to cure you, by my wise counsels, of an ill that saddens you needlessly. But, first, do you love her as much as Appius declares? His talk is often extravagant and heedless. . . .
VERUS: I desired her, I still desire her, as I have never desired any woman. . . .
SlLANUS: You speak wisely in not separating, from the outset, desire and love. Besides, I understand. She is certainly the love liest of all the many women whom I have admired in my life.
VERUS: What! . . . You have seen her? ... Is she at Jerusalem then?
SILANUS: Mary Magdalene Silanus She is even nearer to us than Jerusalem, which is fifteen stadia from Bethany. . . (Drawing him a little to the right side.) Come to this portico and look over there, at the bottom of the valley. . . . What do you see? . . .
VERUS: I see olive-trees, paths, and tombs. . . . Then I see the pediments of palaces or temples, columns, and cypresses. . . . One might think one's self in the outskirts of Rome. . . . But I do not perceive. . . .
SILANUS: It was Herod the Great, a sort of a raving lunatic, but given to building, who filled this valley with splendid palaces more Roman than those of Rome herself.. . . But look half-way down the hill, to the left of those three tall cypresses, three or four stadia from here. . . . Do you espy one of the most beautiful marble villas? . . .
VERUS: The villa with the wide white steps leading to a semicircular colonnade adorned with statues? . . .
SILANUS: That is where she has retired. . . .
VERUS: Mary Magdalene? ... In that solitude, so far from the city ? . . .
SILANUS: She told me that she was fleeing from the fanaticism of the Jews, the tumult and the sickening smells, which increase twofold at Jerusalem as the Passover approaches. . . .
VERUS: Then you see her? . . . You have spoken to her? . . .
SlLANUS: The good Appius, knowing that the sight of a young and beautiful woman delights my eyes without endangering them, did not dissuade her from coming up to the house of a disarmed and harmless old man. . . .
VERUS: What did she say to you? . . . What impression did she make upon you ? . . .
SILANUS: She was clad in a raiment that seemed woven of pearls and dew, in a cloak of Tyrian purple with sapphire ornaments, and decked with jewels that rendered a little heavier this eastern pomp. As for her hair, surely, unloosed, it would cover the surface of that porphyry vase with an impenetrable veil of gold. . . .
VERUS: I speak of her intelligence, her character. . . . Do not mistake: she is no vulgar courtesan. . . . She has other attractions, binding love more firmly. . .
SILANUS: I minded only her beauty, which is real and contents the eye. . . . However, we can judge better presently: she will soon be coming. . . .
VERUS: She is coming here? . . . But does she know that she will find me with you? . . .
SILANUS: Most certainly. It seemed to me that this meeting would do more to assuage your malady than the wise counsels threatened by Appius. . . .
VERUS: But she? . . . What did she say when she learnt that. . . .
SILANUS: She smiled with a quivering and pensive grace. . . . The other guests will be our indispensable Appius and Coelius, your fellow-pupil at Prameste. ... I hope that they will bring our poor friend Longinus, who, three weeks ago, lost a little daughter two years old. ... I will try to console him, by good and persuasive arguments, for a sorrow certainly dis proportionate to his loss. We shall have, among other dishes — all excellent, I hope, — two fish from the Jordan, new to you, which, dressed by Davus, my old cook. . . . But I hear the sound of the double flute. ... It must be the litter of the queen of Bethany and Jerusalem at the threshold of my house . . . Your eyes will soon behold the soft light which they have missed and mine the smile that pleases them. . . . unless the silver mirrors in the Atrium delay her longer than they should . . .
VERUS: She is here. . . .
(ENTER, on the right side, MARY MAGDALENE. She is followed by some slaves, whom she dismisses with a harsh and imperious gesture. )
SCENE II:
THE SAME, MARY MAGDALENE
SILANUS: (Going up to receive MARY MAGDALENE.) "Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense? . . . Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun and terrible as an army with banners," as your sacred books sing at the approach of the Shulamite? . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: Do not speak to me of my sacred books. I loathe them, as I loathe everything that comes from that deceitful and sordid, greedy and mischievous nation. . . .
VERUS: (Coming forward to greet her in his turn.) I will say then, in the Roman fashion, "Hail to the eldest daughter of Aglaia, youngest and happiest of the Graces!"
MARY MAGDALENE: Pity me, instead of praising me. I was robbed, last night, of my Carthaginian rubies, besides twelve of my finest pearls; and, what I feel even more, my Babylonian peacock and all the muraenae in my fish pond. . . .
VERUS: Who dared commit such manifest sacrilege? . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: I do not know. ... I have had the slaves in charge of the aviary and the fish pond beaten with rods and put to the torture: they have confessed nothing and I believe that they know nothing. . . .
VERUS: Have you no clue, no suspicion?
SILANUS: The theft amazes me, for the country is safe. ... I have been living here for nigh six years; and no one has ever tried to rob me of an atom of my wisdom, which is never under lock and key and is the only precious thing that I possess. . . . The Jew is crafty, sly and evil-minded; he practises cheating and usury as well as most of the cringing virtues and vices; but he nearly always Mary Magdalene avoids frank, straightforward theft, honest theft, if one may say so. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: I at first suspected some Tyrian work-men who are fitting one of the rooms in my villa with those movable panels which are changed at every course, so that the walls may harmonize with the dishes covering the table. . . .
VERUS: I have seen some like them in the house of our Governor, Pomponius Flaccus, at Antioch; but I did not know that this fashion, so new to Rome herself, had already made its way into this remote country. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: Nor will you find it, except in my house; and the last palace of the Tetrarch Antipas is still without it. . . . Therefore I began by suspecting those workmen; but I have proofs that they are innocent. I now feel sure that the thieves must be sought among that band of vagrants and prowlers who have been infesting the country for some time. . . .
SILANUS: The famous scene band of the Nazarene. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: Even so. Their leader, I hear, is a sort of unwashed brigand who entices the crowds with a rude kind of sorcery and, on the pretense of preaching some new law or doctrine, lives by plunder and surrounds himself with fellows capable of every thing. . . . Besides, I have other causes to complain of them. . . . Two days ago, when I was walking in my gardens, under the portico that divides them from the road, a dozen wretches, belonging to that band, insulted me foully and threatened me with stones. ... It is becoming intolerable; and it is time that the countryside were rid of them. . . .
VERUS: I have heard about those people . . . . I know that the authorities have their eyes upon them . . . . I will have them watchewd more closely. For that matter, if you wish, it would be easy for me to arrest their leader . . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: Do so, I pray you, and as soon as possible. . . . I should be especially grateful to you. . . .
SILANUS: I believe that you are misled. The robbers, in my opinion, must not be looked for there. I am in a fairly good position to know the band, seeing that, for five or six days, it has been gathered near my house. I have even had the pleasure — for everything turns to pleasure at my age — I have even had the pleasure of attending one of their meetings. It was near the old road to Jericho. The leader was speaking in the midst of a crowd covered with dust and rags, among whom I observed a large number of rather repulsive cripples and sick. They seem extremely ignorant and exalted. They are poor and dirty, but I believe them to be harmless and incapable of stealing more than a cup of water or an ear of wheat. . . . They were listening greedily to a more or less silly anecdote, the story of a son who returns to his father after squandering his patrimony. . . . I did not hear the end, for they looked upon me with a certain suspicion. . . . But the Galilean, or the Nazarene, as they call him here, is rather curious; and his voice is of a penetrating and peculiar sweetness. . . . He appears to be the son of a carpenter. . . . I will tell you more of him, I know many interesting things about him; but permit me first to go to the other side of the house, which commands the road, to see if my belated guests are not in sight. . . . (He goes out on the left.)
SCENE III:
(Enter MARY MAGDALENE and VERUS.)
VERUS: I was not prepared for the joy of seeing you again, of your own consent, after your cruel words. They deprived me even of the hope that is sometimes left to those whom one would drive to despair. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: I was stupid and foolish ; but reason has returned; and I now know that the best love is not worth a tear. . . .
VERUS: Inasmuch as it is hardly the best, nor even a good love, as soon as it causes tears to be shed. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: There is no more best or worst love for me. Until lately, I lived among falsehoods by which others profited; for the past six months, I have lived among truths by which I myself profit.
VERUS: What do you mean? . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: That I sell myself more skilfully and dearer than before.
VERUS: Magdalene! . . . You slander yourself! . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: You would see, if your desire prompted you to try your fortune, that, on the contrary, I rate myself very highly.
VERUS: You will always rate yourself less highly than I do. You will not succeed in degrading yourself in my eyes; and I see in what you say no more than the just rebellion of a deeply wounded soul struggling against pain. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: You are wrong: it is not a soul struggling, but one that is finding itself.
VERUS: I do not believe a word of it. However, I would rather spite or hatred gave you to me than lose you for the noblest of reasons; and, as it is a question only of rating you very highly, know, Magdalene, that from this moment you are mine. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: May be. . . . But here is our host returning. We have nothing more to say to each other, for the moment. . . .
(ENTER, on the left, SILANUS, APPIUS and CCELIUS.)
SCENE IV:
THE SAME, SILANUS, APPIUS, and CCELIUS.
APPIUS: (Going to MARY MAGDALENE.) "Venus has left Cyprus and soars above Jerusalem!" Or, rather, it is the fair Techmessa, who already brings back the smile to the lips of the son of Telamon! . . . Admire, O Ccelius, the magnificent image raised under this portico by Love and Beauty!
CCELIUS: It is as though the azure sky were spread for them between those two columns.
SILANUS: The azure and the light seem happy only when environmenting youth and love. . . . But, to return to less dazzling images, better-suited to my head burdened with years, I observed that it must have been a sort of presentiment that urged us to speak, but a moment ago, of the Nazarene's band, for it was that same band which delayed our guests. . . .
APPIUS: Yes, imagine, when we approached the last cross-road down there, we found the whole country in a stir and the way blocked by a shouting, gesticulating throng, which was crowding round a blind man who saw! . . .
VERUS: Yes, that is one of those phenomena which one meets with nowhere except in Judea. . . .
CCELIUS: It was extraordinary! . . . The poor man, crushed against an old wall, rolled two drunk and virgin eyes, crying, "He is a prophet! He is a prophet! I see men as trees, walking!" And the crowd stamped all around for joy. He seemed dazed with the light. . . .
APPIUS: Or rather with wine, for he was plainly staggering.
VERUS: And the Nazarene, did you see him? . . .
APPIUS: No, he had just gone away, taking with him the most turbulent part of the crowd; but for that, we should never have been able to pass. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: Yes, it appears that, when those ruffians crowd round their leader, they would not trouble to make way for Caesar.
CCELIUS: Where did he go? . . . I should be curious to see him. . . .
SILANUS: He cannot be very far. . . . Do you see that laurel-hedge, at the bottom of my garden? ... It divides my little do main from the orchard of my neighbor, known as Simon the Leper. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: (Starting.) What, your next neighbor is a leper? . . . You should have told us. . . .
SILANUS: Be reassured, lady, he has no leprosy now. . . .
APPIUS: I thought that one became a leper for life, just as one becomes a senator. . . . This is another of the surprises of this monstrous Judea. . . .
SlLANUS: The Nazarene healed him.
CCELIUS: Is he really healed? ... As his next neighbour, you must know the truth. . . .
SlLANUS: I know that he is as healthy in the face as the rose of Magdala and lily of Beth any whom you see before you; but I do not know if he was ever sick, not having seen him before his recovery. . . .
APPIUS: I thought so. . . . Besides, I have seen much more extraordinary magicians in Thrace and Egypt. . . . But, to return to this leper without leprosy, what happens behind that hedge and in the house of your mysterious neighbor?
SlLANUS: The Nazarene has been his guest for the past three days. This Simon, his sister, his wife and, I believe, his brother-in-law are common people, who live on the pro duce of their olive-trees. They were timorous, peaceable neighbours; but, since the arrival of the Nazarene, everything is in commotion. It is a perpetual coming and going, a perpetual tumult. Their orchard is filled incessantly with a multi tude of sick, of vagrants, of cripples, is suing from all the rocks in Judea to be seech him whom, with loud cries, they call the Saviour of the World, the Son of David and King of the Jews. There are sometimes so many of them that they over flow into my garden. The hedge, as you see, has been trampled, crushed and even torn in certain places. Fortunately, the Nazarene's appearances are few and brief. Besides, this picturesque spectacle, despite its inconveniences, amuses and puzzles me.
(ENTER, on the left side, five or six POOR FOLKS.)
CCELIUS: Who are those people?
SlLANUS: What did I tell you? . . . Here are half-a-dozen coming to ask for bread. . . .
APPIUS: Do they belong to this famous band?
MARY MAGDALENE: They are hateful and loathsome ! . . . One of them has his face gnawed with an ulcer, another is almost naked, another is starving! . . .
APPIUS: They certainly lack shame, thus to flaunt ugliness and dread. . . .
SlLANUS: Do not be uneasy: these will not long mar the pleasing grace of the porticoes that refresh our eyes. My gardener has discovered them; he is armed with a stout hoe and is driving them back uncivilly. . . . You see, they do not insist, they walk away in silence, hanging their heads. . . . And, now that we have occupied ourselves long enough with these unfortunate people, with their great leader and their maladies, let us think a little of our selves and enjoy the delightful after noon which spring-time sets before us. . . . My pleasure at seeing you here would be flawless, if only our old friend Longinus had yielded to Appius' entreaties and consented to accompany you. . . .
APPIUS: I never felt more keenly the vanity of the great eloquence which he himself taught me. To all my most convincing and well-stated arguments he replied with a sullen silence, or shook his head, repeating that he did not wish to throw a gloom over our happy party with his dismal presence. . . .
CCELIUS: And yet it is quite three weeks since that child died. ... I should not have thought that grief could have affected him so much. . . .
APPIUS: The more so as it concerned a child of tender years, whom her father knew less well than did her nurse ! . . .
SlLANUS: There is something more astonishing yet, which clearly shows that the greatest wisdom is not so much to know as to con form to what one knows! . . . When, more than fifteen years ago, I lost a little boy who must have been of about the same age as the child whom he now mourns, Longinus undertook to console me. He wrote me an eloquent letter, wherein, relying on the authority of Metrodorus, Panaetius and Hermachus, he proved that sorrow is not only useless, but ungrateful. I found and read the letter again this morning; and so striking are its more important passages that I know them almost by heart. . . . They were the loftiest words that human wisdom could utter against death and sorrow. . . . They protected me once. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: What were the words? It Is well to know anything that can relieve sorrow. . . .
SlLANUS: "You expect consolation," he said; "you shall receive only reproaches. If you bear the death of a child with so little patience, what would you do if you had lost a friend? You ought to bring your self to this frame of mind, that you were more pleased at having had him than grieved that you had him no longer. But most men reckon past advantages and pleasures as of no account. They bury friendship with their friend. ..."
APPIUS: I recognize and hail the mighty wisdom of our venerable master.
SILANUS: Why does he not remember it, when misfortune strikes him? But why did I forget it myself, when I needed it most? . . . "I assure you," he added, "that of those whom we have loved, much remains to us after death has removed them. The time that is past is ours; and I see nothing of which we are more certain than of that which has been. The hope of the future makes us ungrateful for the benefits which we have received, as though the favors which we expect were not bound soon to be ranked among things past. Death has deprived you of a son so young that he could be of no promise to you yet; it is only a little time lost. There are in stances without end of the fathers losing their infant children without shedding a single tear and returning to the senate after laying them in the graves. This is not unreasonable; for, in the first place, it is idle to give way to grief when grief can serve no purpose. And then it is unjust to complain of a misfortune that has be fallen one person and still threatens all the others. Moreover, it is madness to com plain, when there is so little distance be tween the one who is dead and the one who mourns him. Consider that all mankind, destined to one and the same end, is divided only by little intervals, even when they appear very great. He whom you think lost has only gone before. Since we must all travel the same road, is it not unworthy of a wise man to weep for one who has set out earlier than ourselves? To complain that the friend or the child is dead is to complain that he was ever born. We are all linked to the same fate. He who has come into the world must also leave it. His stay may be longer, but the end is always alike. The time that elapses between the first day and the last is uncertain and variable. If you consider the wretchedness of life, it is long, even for a child; if you regard the duration, it is short, even for an old man."
MARY MAGDALENE: That would not have consoled me. . . .
SILANUS: To console, lady, is not to do away with sorrow, but to teach one how to overcome it.
(At this moment, there is heard rising from the roads, the paths and all the invisible country commanded by the terrace a noise, at first dull and confused, which gradually becomes more positive and precise. Sounds of a crowd forming and hurrying, stones rolling, children crying, dogs barking; shouts that grow more and more distinct: "This way! This way! . . . Come quickly! . . . Come down! . . . To the right, to the right! . . . He is there! . . . We saw him! . . . He is leaving the house! . . . To Simon's orchard! . . . Carry the palsied there! . . . Lead the blind! . . . Quick, quick, this way! . . . They say he is going to speak!" etc.)
APPIUS: What is this? What is happening? . . .
VERUS: They are hurrying from every side! . . . .
CCELIUS: All the roads are covered with people running like madmen! . . .
APPIUS: They seem to spring from the stones! . . .
CCELIUS: But what is happening? . . . They are disappearing behind those olive-trees. . . .
VERUS: Here come two sick men carried on their beds. . . .
CCELIUS: A blind man falling! . . .
APPIUS: What is the matter with them? . . . Are they mad? . . .
VERUS: Who are those extraordinary creatures leaping among the rocks? . . .
SILANUS: They are the men possessed by devils, coming out of the tombs. . . .
APPIUS: But, after all, what is happening? . . .
SILANUS: They have seen the Nazarene. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: The Nazarene? . . . Where is he? . . .
SlLANUS: He has probably just come out of Simon's house. They watch all his movements. As soon as he is seen, they bring the sick; and the fanatics come rushing up. . . . He must be walking in the neighboring orchard. . . . (Listening.) Yes. . . . Do you hear the crowd humming like bees? ... It is close to my laurel-hedge. . . .
APPIUS: Let us go and see. . . .
SILANUS: I do not advise you to. In the first place, those people are mostly very poor, extremely dirty and very unpleasant to come into touch with. . . . Then, you know the Jewish fanaticism. ... In these moments of exaltation, the most in offensive become dangerous; and the sight of the Roman toga and arms enrages them strangely. . . . Besides, we shall hear what happens quite well from where we stand. . . . Listen! . . . The cries are coming nearer still and increasing. . . .
(Behind the hedge that closes the end of the garden rise cries that sound nearer and nearer: "Hosannah! Hosannah! . . . Son of Man! . . . Lord, Lord, have pity! Lord, Son of David, heal the sick man! . . . Master! Master! Lord! . . . Jesus of Nazareth, have pity on me! . . . Make way! . . . Silence, silence! . . . He is going to speak!" At these words, the tumult suddenly sub sides. An incomparable silence, in which it seems as though the birds and the leaves of the trees and the very air that is breathed take part, falls with all its supernatural weight upon the countryside; and, in this silence, which weighs upon people on the terrace also, there rises, absolute sovereign of space and the hour, a wonderful voice, soft and all-powerful, intoxicated with ardor, light and love, distant and yet near to every heart and present in every soul.)
THE VOICE: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven! . . . Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted! . . . Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth! . . .
APPIUS: What is he saying? . . .
SILANUS: Listen! . . . It is rather curious. . . .
THE VOICE: Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled! . . . Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy! . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: I want to see! . . . (She rises and, as though irresistibly drawn by the divine voice, goes as if to descend the steps of the terrace and to make for the bottom of the garden.)
SILANUS: (In a low voice, trying to hold her back.) Do not go there! . . .
THE VOICE: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God! . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: I will go! . . .
VERUS: I shall go with you. . . .
MARY MAGDALENE: (Resisted fiercely, imperiously.) No! Nobody! . . . Let me be! . . . (She goes down towards the hedge, as though fascinated.)
THE VOICE: Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God ! . . . Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven! . . .
VERUS: Where is she going . . .
APPIUS: What is she doing? . . . She is mad! . . . She is trying to pass through the hedge! . . .
THE VOICE: Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you! . . . Rejoice and be exceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven I . . .
VERUS: She has opened the gate of the garden! . . . She is in the orchard! . . .
SILANUS: Women sometimes have thoughts which wise men do not understand. . . .
VERUS: I shall go and join her; and, if I have to protect her against those . . .
SILANUS: Do no such thing. . . . They are listening to the voice and will not perceive her presence, whereas the sight and sound of your arms . . . Listen, listen to what he is saying: it is rather singular. . . .
THE VOICE: But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you and pray for them which despitefully use you! . . .
(At that moment, cries, at first scattered, rise among the invisible crowd behind the hedge. A few words are distinguishable: "It is the Roman woman! The Roman woman . . . The adulteress! . . . Shame! . . . Shame! Shame! . . . Magdalene! . . . The strumpet! . . . Drive her away, drive her away! ..." Immediately afterwards, these cries are lost in a violent and formidable shout of re-probation, in which only a few resounding words are, with difficulty, perceived: "Shame! Shame! . . . Stone her! Stone her! . . . Death! Death! . . . Stone her!" etc. All this is accompanied by a noise of flight, of hurrying footsteps, of sticks and pebbles clashing, of broken branches, etc.)
SlLANUS: They have seen her! . . .
VERUS: But what is happening? ... Is it she whom they are attacking? . . .
SlLANUS: It is what I feared. . . . We must take care . . .
VERUS: (Rushing to the bottom of the garden.) This way! . . . Follow me! . . . Appius, Ccelius, your swords! . . .
(At the moment when he rushes down, the laurel-hedge is burst through in every part by the yelling and gesticulating crowd pursuing MARY MAGDALENE. She makes a frenzied attempt to reach the terrace. VERUS and his two friends run to wards her, to try to protect her against the invading multitude. Stones fly. VERUS, standing in front of the others, brandishes his bare sword. Just as the fighting is about to begin, when already branches are broken, a statue over turned and so forth, suddenly a loud call of the supernatural voice rings under the nearer olive-trees. All cease, struck with stupor. A word of command is passed from mouth to mouth: "Silence! Silence! . . . Listen! Listen! . . . He is speaking! He is going to speak! . . . The Master has made a sign! . . . Listen! Listen! ..." Then, in the silence thus suddenly produced, the divine voice rises, calm, august, profound and irresistible.)
THE VOICE: He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her! . . .
(The stones are heard to drop to the ground. The crowd sways to and fro, abashed, and disappears gradually, in silence, through the hedge. VERUS comes forward to support MARY MAGDALENE, who has stopped and who is standing erect and motionless in the middle of the walk. She rejects the proffered aid, with a harsh and fierce gesture, and, staring in front of her, alone among the others, who look at her without understanding, slowly she climbs the steps of the terrace.)
THE CURTAIN CLOSES.