Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.

Christus: A Mystery

Part I. The Divine Tragedy. The Third Passover. VIII. Ecce Homo

YE have brought unto me this man, as one

Who doth pervert the people; and behold!

I have examined him, and found no fault

Touching the things whereof ye do accuse him.

No, nor yet Herod; for I sent you to him,

And nothing worthy of death he findeth in him.

Ye have a custom at the Passover,

That one condemned to death shall be released.

Whom will ye, then, that I release to you?

Jesus Barabbas, called the Son of Shame,

Or Jesus, Son of Joseph, called the Christ?

Not this man, but Barabbas!

What then will ye

That I should do with him that is called Christ?

Crucify him!

Why, what evil hath he done?

Lo, I have found no cause of death in him;

I will chastise him, and then let him go.

Crucify him! crucify him!

Thy wife sends

This message to thee,—Have thou naught to do

With that just man; for I this day in dreams

Have suffered many things because of him.

The Gods speak to us in our dreams! I tremble

At what I have to do! O Claudia,

How shall I save him? Yet one effort more,

Or he must perish!

I am innocent

Of the blood of this just person; see ye to it!

Let his blood be on us and on our children

Put on thy royal robes; put on thy crown,

And take thy sceptre! Hail, thou King of the Jews!

I bring him forth to you, that ye may know

I find no fault in him. Behold the man!

Crucify him! crucify him!

Take ye him;

I find no fault in him.

We have a Law,

And by our Law he ought to die; because

He made himself to be the Son of God.

Ah! there are Sons of God, and demi-gods

More than ye know, ye ignorant High-Priests!

Whence art thou?

Crucify him! crucify him

Dost thou not answer me? Dost thou not know

That I have power enough to crucify thee?

That I have also power to set thee free?

Thou couldest have no power at all against me

Except that it were given thee from above;

Therefore hath he that sent me unto thee

The greater sin.

If thou let this man go,

Thou art not Cæsar’s friend. For whosoever

Maketh himself a King, speaks against Cæsar.

Ye Jews, behold your King!

Away with him!

Crucify him!

Shall I crucify your King?

We have no King but Cæsar!

Take him, then,

Take him, ye cruel and bloodthirsty Priests,

More merciless than the plebeian mob,

Who pity and spare the fainting gladiator

Blood-stained in Roman amphitheatres,—

Take him, and crucify him if ye will;

But if the immortal Gods do ever mingle

With the affairs of mortals, which I doubt not,

And hold the attribute of justice dear,

They will commission the Eumenides

To scatter you to the four winds of heaven,

Exacting tear for tear, and blood for blood.

Here, take ye this inscription, Priests, and nail it

Upon the cross, above your victim’s head:

Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.

Nay, we entreat! write not, the King of the Jews;

But that he said: I am the King of the Jews!

Enough. What I have written, I have written.