Bream of 
 filate's Witt 
 
 WaiUiam J^tvbtf Wioohe, B. B., Uttt. B. 
 
0% 
 
 The DREAM of PILATE'S WIFE '^"^ 
 
 ^t. 
 
 By William Hervey Woods 
 
 In One Act and Three Scenes 
 
 T^ersons T^p/'esen^ed 
 THE NAZARENE 
 
 Pontius Pilate, Governor of Judea. 
 Procula, his Wife. 
 
 Rachel, a Jewish Maid, Nurse to Procula's Son, 
 PoRTUS, a Roman Lad, Messenger to Procula. 
 
 GOAT-HERD, WOMEN OF JERUSALEM, CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD, 
 CENTURION, AND SERVANTS IN PILATE'S PALACE 
 
 Time — The Day of the Crucifixion. 
 Place — Jerusalem. 
 
 Scene I. In Procula's Chamber. 
 Scene II. On the Palace Roof. 
 Scene III. In Procula's Chamber. 
 
 copyright 1922 
 
 BY WILLIAM HERVEY WOODS 
 
 Published for the Author by Presbyterian Committee of Publication 
 
 Richmond, Virginia 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 NOV 2t 1922. 
 
 (0)C1AB89715 
 
The DREAM of PILATE'S WIFE 
 
 SCENE I. 
 In Procula's chamber. Procula and Rachel. 
 
 Procula: "Is Portus come?" 
 
 Rachel: "Nay, Lady, 'twas but now 
 
 I heard the sentry growling in his beard 
 At the lad's parting gibe. Would Madam sit, 
 Mayhap my fingers in her loosened hair 
 Might bring a moment's ease." 
 
 Procula : "Speak not of ease ; 
 
 I seem as one who, whirled on mountain floods. 
 Sweeps round the cliff, and sees the pillared mists 
 And hears the thunder of the approaching falls." 
 
 {She walks to and fro, speaking to herself.) 
 
 "0 Nazarene, hadst thou but half the power 
 In this loud world thou hast in unborn dreams 
 And shivering fancies of the world within. 
 Myself, yea, I, Lord Pilate's wife, had been 
 Thy follower, despite the starving crowd 
 That murmur at thy heels for bread to keep 
 Their miseries yet a little longer warm." 
 
 {She turns to the maid.) 
 
 "Rachel, hast seen the man?" 
 
 Rachel : "My Lady, yes." 
 
One moment, but one moment mine, shall burn 
 That look the Nazarene bent on thy son, 
 I too shall rise and follow — 
 
 There's the gate. 
 Shall I fetch Portus, Lady?" 
 
 Procula : "Instantly." 
 
 (Exit Rachel, to reappear immediately with the lad, 
 Portus, dusty, dishevelled, and excited.) 
 
 Procula: "What tousled oaf is here? Hast thou a 
 tongue ? 
 If so, speak out. The tablet, where is it?" 
 
 Portus : "Madam, my Lord is not himself, I think." 
 
 Procula : "Sayest thou, young sir ! Is he, or is he not, 
 But for thy youth, that speech had scarred thee 
 
 deep. 
 Now be done trembling. Give the tablet up." 
 
 Portus : "I have no tablet. Lady." 
 
 Procula: "What, hast none? 
 
 A message, then. Be instant. Tell it out." 
 
 Portus : "Message or tablet, all is one. My Lord 
 Took that thou sent'st, and read, and long time sat 
 Staring at naught, the while the howling Jews 
 Crowded around and nigh tore me apart. 
 Then Pilate, waking, ordered water brought, 
 And laved his hands." 
 
 Procula: "But set the prisoner free, 
 
 Tell me that, boy." 
 
 Portus : "Madam, I wish he had ! 
 
 Yon sick, white face will haunt me when I'm old." 
 
 [6] 
 
Procula: "But is the man condemned?" 
 
 PoRTUS : "Yes ; to the scourge 
 
 And then to death. And I, who thought to be 
 A soldier and thy servant, fling away 
 The badge and sword." 
 
 {He tears off the badge and unbuckles the stvord-belt, 
 and throws both to the floor.) 
 
 "I'll bide a simple lad, 
 Lest one black day my Lord shall bid me smite 
 Some sad-eyed Nazarene, or tell me turn 
 My sword on mine own sister." 
 
 Procula : "Get thee hence. 
 
 Thou suckling seer, and to an emptier day 
 Adjourn thy tragic mouthing. Out, I say!" 
 
 (Exit Portus.) 
 
 Procula: "Delivered up, despite my warning? Nay, 
 This shall not be." 
 
 (She rises.) 
 
 "Rachel, fetch me my cloak. 
 Who waits without there? Ho!" 
 
 (Re-enter Portus.) 
 
 Procula: "Is't thou again?" 
 
 (Portus turns atvay.) 
 
 "Stay, boy. Go find the Captain of the Guard, 
 And bid him here to me." 
 
 (Exit Portus.) 
 
 "I'll seek my Lord, 
 And pray him even yet recall his doom. 
 But the tire-woman's art I cannot wait. 
 Come hither, girl, and let thy supple hands 
 Lay me my locks in order. Am I pale?" 
 
 [7] 
 
Rachel: "But of a clearness, and a breath of air 
 
 Will bring thy bloom. Will Madam bend her head?" 
 
 Procula:"How; thus? Another day like this I think 
 Would mar my womanhood, even at its noon. 
 I never cared so little how I look, 
 And who cares not is old." 
 
 Rachel : "I hear a sound 
 
 Of chariot wheels. Lady, my Lord is come." 
 
 Procula : "I pray not so. Still in the judgment hall 
 I hope to find him." 
 
 {Enter Pilate.) 
 
 "Nay, 'tis Pilate's self- 
 My Lord, I am in act to visit thee. 
 Hadst thou my message ?" 
 
 Pilate: "Aye, and bring good news. 
 
 Get thee thy women round thee, and put on 
 Thy richest robes, for I make peace to-day 
 At last with Herod, and we go to feast 
 In the king's palace." 
 
 Procula: "But my warning word — 
 
 Didst thou not read? What of the Nazarene?" 
 
 Pilate : " 'T was through the Nazarene that peace was 
 made." 
 
 Procula: "Did he entreat for thee?' 
 
 Pilate : "No, but the man 
 
 Is Galilean born, of Herod's land. 
 And with smooth words I sent him to his king !" 
 
 [8] 
 
Procula: "And what did Herod? Set the prisoner 
 free?" 
 
 Pilate : "Lady, enough of this. The Nazarene 
 Must tread his own strange road. It is not well 
 To thrust thy trembling fancies in the clash 
 Of kings and councils. Keep thy dreams 
 For some less troubled times, for greater things 
 Wait this day's issues than thy peace of mind." 
 
 Procula {To Rachel) : "See if Lord Proculus is yet 
 awake." 
 
 {Exit Rachel. Procula moves across the chamber and 
 stands looking down into the court.) 
 
 Pilate : "Call in thy maids, my love. The morn wears 
 old, 
 And kings know naught of patience." 
 
 Procula : "Would they knew 
 
 Less of smooth words, and juggling tricks that so 
 Besmirch the judgment-seat! My Lord, my Lord, 
 Too well thou sayest that more than peace of mind 
 Hangs on the fate of Jesus. If my dreams 
 Presage the truth, that thou hast this day done 
 Links with thy name irreparable shame." 
 
 Pilate: "Be done. Put all thy jewels on, for now 
 Long danger's past, and Pilate gets his own." 
 
 Procula : "That may the gods forbid, if what I heard 
 Be Pilate's own." 
 
 Pilate : "What is't then thou hast heard ?" 
 
 Procula : "Voices of peoples that are yet to be, 
 Far down the ages, and of pomp and power 
 That make Rome's prime the childhood of the world, 
 
 [9] 
 
And speak in many tongues ; but all conjoin 
 In one dread phrase as passionless as Time, 
 That tolls thy name forever, with the Christ 
 'Who suffered under Pilate.' " 
 
 Pilate: "Is that all? 
 
 Then get thee to thy dressing-room in haste." 
 
 Procula : "I do not go to Herod's feast." 
 
 Pilate : "It is 
 
 Thy Lord commands." 
 
 Procula : "Would thou wert less my Lord 
 
 At home, and more, far more, mid howling Jews ! 
 Betake thee to thy feast. I go to weep." 
 
 (Exit Procula.) 
 
 Pilate (Starting forward) : 
 
 "But Procula! My Lady, stay — one word!" 
 
 (Stands starijig at the door. To him enter the Captain 
 of the Guard.) 
 
 Captain: "My Lord, the Chief Priests send a mes- 
 senger 
 To say they bring the Nazarene this way. 
 Even now their tumult rises, and the throng 
 Darkens the distant street. Did Pilate deign 
 To look on these wild Jews, upon the roof 
 Were better view." 
 
 (Pilate continues lost in thought.) 
 
 [10] 
 
Captain: "My Lord, wilt thou go up?" 
 
 Pilate: "Sayest thou? Nay, but go tell these frantic 
 priests 
 That not a lifted eyelid will I add 
 To that already done." 
 
 (Exit Captain.) 
 
 "Roman am I, 
 Soldier and judge; but scarce for Caesar's crown 
 Would I this day recall, and face again 
 Yon strange, sad eyes that judged me on my throne. 
 Ho, there, without!" 
 
 (Enter Forties.) 
 
 "Go to my Lady's door, 
 And tell her Pilate would have speech with her," 
 
 (Exit Partus, and Pilate waits. Re-enter Portus.) 
 PORTUS : "My Lord, thy Lady waits thee on the roof." 
 Pilate : "The roof? Didst tell my message?" 
 
 Portus : "Yes, my Lord, 
 
 And so she bade me say." 
 
 Pilate : "I will go up.' 
 
 End of Scene I. 
 
 [11] 
 
SCENE IL— On the Palace Roof 
 
 (Procula stands gazing over the battlement. To her 
 enter Pilate.) 
 
 Pilate : "Nay, Procula, here is no sight for thee. 
 I pray thee come away." 
 
 Procula : "Not till they pass. 
 
 They halt there down the street ; a prisoner fell 
 But now beneath his cross. Why are there three? 
 Were Jesus' friends condemned as well as he ?" 
 
 Pilate : "These are but common thieves. He had no 
 friends." 
 
 Procula: "No friends, belike, who might break 
 through the swords." 
 
 Pilate : "No, none who made endeavor ; not a hand 
 Nor voice was lifted in his cause." 
 
 Procula: "Not one? 
 
 And yet there's scarce a hamlet in Judaea 
 Or Galilee, but blind men walk the street 
 Seeing, and lame men leap, and dumb lips sing. 
 That Jesus hath made whole. If so mankind 
 Repay the works the Gods alone may do, 
 Jesus should welcome death. — They move again, 
 And who are they that come behind the throng? 
 Women they seem, and weeping. Hark, they sing, 
 Or is it prayer that rises ?" 
 
 (The throng has noiv reached the palace. The women's 
 voices are heard.) 
 
 [12] 
 
Prayer of the Women 
 
 "Turn us thy face! Not all ivho press behind thee 
 Would do thee hurt. Though angry men may 
 throng 
 The streets, tue women push through foes to find 
 thee, 
 And pay too late that we have owed too long. 
 
 "Art thou not He who ivith a uwrd well spoken 
 Us and our children oft hast loosed from pain. 
 And even the grave's bars at our crying broken? — 
 Hast thou forgotten Bethany and Nain ? 
 
 "Nor priests nor rulers we who iveep, but mothers; 
 
 No woman's stroke on thee is laid this day. 
 But Mary-like, come we, unnumbered others, 
 Waryn on thy luounds Love's healing nards 
 to lay. 
 
 "Why wilt thou die, when raging seas obey thee, 
 And ivhimpering devils hide them at thy nod? 
 Maker of Men, may thine own creatures slay thee ? 
 SoYi of Man, show thyself Son of God! 
 
 "Onivard thou tremblest, bleeding, spent and shaken, 
 The loneliest soul of all Time's croivding years'; 
 But knoiu thou most when most thou art forsaken, 
 That thy dark road was tvet with Woman's tears." 
 
 (Christ turns to the weeping women.) 
 
 Christ: "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, 
 but weep for yourselves and for your children," 
 
 {The Centurion, leading his Prisoner forward, salutes 
 the Governor.) 
 
 Centurion : "Behold the man !" 
 [13] 
 
Pilate: "What is this? Insolent, 
 
 Mouthest thou mine own words ? Up, and begone, 
 Thou and thy prisoner, nor dare more delay 
 The doom my mouth hath spoken;" 
 
 Procula (Interposing): "Stay, my Lord! 
 
 By all my years of wifely fealty, 
 I claim a moment's question with this man." 
 
 (She leans over the battlement, gazing intently on 
 Jesus.) 
 
 Procula: "Art thou the Son of God?" 
 
 Christ: "Thou sayest it." 
 
 Procula: "I say it? Yea, and shall say, evermore!" 
 
 (Bowing profoundly, she waves a gesture of farewell.) 
 
 "Pass on thine awful way, thou God of Dreams, 
 And Door-keeper of all the human heart 
 Or hopes or fears ; 'tis not in mortal lips 
 To bid thee pause or hasten." 
 
 (Rachel, who has come, unnoticed, to the roof, and 
 stood listening intently, leans forward and ad- 
 dresses Christ.) 
 
 Rachel: "Man of Woes, 
 
 I saw thee once with but a single look 
 Make a child's soul thine own. Think me a child, 
 Even me, and look on me !" 
 
 (Christ looks on her in silence.) 
 
 Pilate : "Enough of this ! 
 
 Captain, take up thy march to Calvary." 
 
 (The soldiers and the throng move forward.) 
 
 [14] 
 
Pilate : "Now let us back to life. Our dreams are done. 
 Lady, methinks thy son awaits thy care, 
 Or wilt thou put thy sombre fancies by, 
 And go with me to feast?" 
 
 Procula : "I feast no more." 
 
 Or now, or ever, till yon God-like eyes 
 Burn somewhat dimlier in my memory. 
 Oh, I am sick at heart for this day's deeds !" 
 
 {A strange wild cry comes up from the street below.) 
 
 "Ar — hai! Ar — hail Now is the day gone down, 
 And night, the night, draws nigh!" 
 
 Procula (Clutching her husband's arm) : 
 
 "What voice is that?" 
 
 Pilate : " 'Tis but the goat-herd, Lady, on his round, 
 The half-crazed man who passes day by day." 
 
 Procula: "But never passed like this. He cries the 
 night 
 While yet 'tis early morn, and sounds abroad 
 Mine own most secret dread." 
 
 Pilate: "Thou'rt overwrought. 
 
 My Love, and should'st at once get thee to rest. 
 I hope to find thee with a quiet heart 
 When I return; but now I must begone." 
 
 (Exit Pilate.) 
 
 Rachel (Coming forward) : 
 
 "Madam, I had my prayer. He looked on me !" 
 
 Procula : "Vex me not, girl, for I am sore distraught. 
 I'll call thee later." 
 
 (Turning away, she catches a glimpse of Rachel's face, 
 and turns to her again.) 
 
 [15] 
 
Procula : "Nay, what is this. 
 
 That thy young womanhood should leap to such 
 A sudden glory, eye, and cheek, and lip 
 Alight, abloom? Hadst thou a lover, then. 
 Somewhere in this mad throng?" 
 
 Rachel: "No, Lady, no. 
 
 But that of which I spoke has come to pass. 
 I have met Jesus face to face, and so 
 Henceforth I follow him." 
 
 Procula: "He goes to die." 
 
 Rachel : "And I go after. Madam, fare thee well. 
 Thy little son I left in curtained sleep; 
 My God keep him, and thee." 
 
 {Exit Rachel.) 
 
 Procula : "Her God, she prays ; 
 
 And if her God be Jesus, be it so." 
 
 End of Scene H. 
 
 [16] 
 
SCENE III. 
 
 (Procula's chamber in the palace. Procula lies asleep 
 on a Couch. A maid-servant stands by her, 
 plucking timidly at her robe.) 
 
 Maid : "0, Lady, Lady, wake !" 
 
 Procula : "Who plucks my robe?" 
 
 {She sits upright on the couch.) 
 
 "I've slept too long. Why are not lights brought in, 
 And what are these strange noises down the halls ?" 
 
 Maid : "Madam, they're in the streets and everywhere." 
 
 Procula: "Has my Lord Pilate come?" 
 
 Maid : "I wish he had." 
 
 Procula: "Night, and he has not yet come? What's 
 the hour?" 
 
 Maid : "The seventh hour is gone past." 
 
 Procula : "Mid-afternoon, 
 
 And black as Erebus? Fearest thou not the lash 
 To answer so? Fetch in the lights, I say." 
 
 Maid {Whimpering.) 
 
 "0, Madam, all the world comes to an end. 
 Look out the window there, it's night. 
 Nothing but night, and no light can be made. 
 There's not a spark of fire in all the walls, 
 And even the bearded sentry at the gate 
 Now curses, and now prays, there in the dark." 
 
 {Exit the maid.) 
 [17] 
 
(Procula, rising, goes to the window. Jerusalem is in 
 utter darkness, and the air is full of cries. 
 Among them presently shrills out once more 
 the goat-herd's voice.) 
 
 Goat-herd: "Said I not so? The night, the last long 
 night is come!" 
 
 Procula : "To me here, Portus ! Ho ! Who waits ?" 
 (Enter Portus.) 
 
 Portus : "Here am I, Madam." 
 
 Procula: "Go forthwith and tell 
 
 The Captain of the Guard I bid him send 
 And take that crazy goat-herd far away 
 From all the palace precincts : go, at once." 
 
 Portus : "Yes, Lady, if he can but find him out 
 In this blind night." 
 
 Procula : "Ne'er the less, go at once. 
 
 Surely here are portents enough, without 
 That madman's ravings." 
 
 (Exit Portus) 
 
 (She turns again to the window, and reaches out her 
 hand.) 
 
 "There's no hint of storm, 
 No wind, nor rain, nor thunder ; naught but dark. 
 Can Christ make dark ? Can he undo the day, 
 And interpose his mandate in the vast 
 Procession of the stars? The Son of God 
 He owned himself, but now, bleeding and faint. 
 And on the way to death. Little I knew — 
 I thought it past our mortal powers to know — 
 Until to-day, what the high God is like. 
 But well I know I saw Him in my dream, 
 And saw Him once again look up at me 
 From the street there below. — I would my Lord 
 Were come! And hark! I think I heard the gate!" 
 
 [18] 
 
{Enter Pilate.) 
 
 Pilate: "What, Procula, art in the dark here, too?" 
 
 Procula : "I've ordered lights ; but not a spark, they 
 say, 
 Is there in all the palace, nor can one 
 Be made. And after all, can torches help 
 When the world ends?" 
 
 Pilate: "Can they, or can they not, 
 
 There are no torches. Those in Herod's house, 
 And every gilded lamp along the walls. 
 Sickened and died, and in a twilight dread 
 Left us astonished partings, and to grope 
 Our own way helpless home. More than an hour 
 I've blundered in the streets, and found the gate 
 But now, because the burly Scythian there 
 Prays his wild gods aloud. What time began 
 The darkness here?" 
 
 Procula : "At the sixth hour, they say. 
 
 Myself had fallen asleep. What is it like 
 Outside?" 
 
 Pilate : "Like naught man ever saw. No cloud, 
 No smoke, and yet nigh noonday, and no sun; 
 But this funereal dusk, as deep and strange 
 As if not day, but light itself, had died, 
 And Nature but half knew it. Round their roosts 
 Birds come and go, twittering in foolish doubt 
 If it be night or no, and eerie cries 
 That might be voices out of other worlds 
 Shrill up and down the streets. The Nazarene 
 May go of men unfriended, but the earth 
 And air and sky, to all our griefs so blind 
 And deaf, are moved at this man's death as though 
 Their dearest friend were passing." 
 
 [19] 
 
Procula: "More than friend; 
 
 Their Maker." 
 
 Pilate : "Sayest thou ? Was there presage then 
 
 Of these things in thy dreams?" 
 
 Procula : "Nay, I know not all 
 
 I dreamed." 
 
 (She puts her hand to her breast.) 
 
 "What is't, my Lord? I scarce can speak. 
 There's such a weight, an aching, in my breast." 
 
 Pilate : "It is this night. I felt it in the street. 
 
 And feel it still, a strange, dull weight that makes 
 It pain to breathe. But sit thou here beside 
 The open window. Ah! Lights come, at last!" 
 
 (A servant enters with torches.) 
 
 "And even these cast but a sickly glow. 
 Hast thou no better torches?" 
 
 Servant : "No, my Lord, 
 
 And these are but just kindled." 
 
 (Exit servant.) 
 
 Pilate (Walking to and fro in restless agitation.) : 
 
 "And there are 
 Worse things than darkness ; aye, this night itself 
 But the more plainly limns yon calm, white face 
 That all this long day haunts me, and I think 
 Will haunt me evermore. Oh, Procula, 
 What have I done? Was it or God, or man, 
 Whom Pilate sent to die?" 
 
 [20] 
 
Procula: "Can the gods die?' 
 
 Pilate : "The gods alone may say. But, my wife, 
 If thou hast heart to tell it out in this 
 Blind, choking night, tell me what thou hast 
 dreamed." 
 
 Procula: "Too late. Our day is done." 
 
 Pilate: "Aye, and it helps 
 
 Nothing to stumble back o'er battle-fields 
 Already lost. N'ertheless, tell me, I pray." 
 
 Procula : "If I can speak. Part of it I have told, 
 That chant which links thy name forevermore 
 With Him of Calvary. And yet not this 
 Awaked so keen a pang as later came. 
 'Twas He who took my children." 
 
 Pilate: "He? What he?" 
 
 Procula : "Jesus, the Nazarene. None else but him." 
 
 Pilate : "But Procula, bethink thee. Years agone 
 We saw our children die, one there at Rome, 
 And one in Sicily ; and sayest thou 
 That this man, Jesus, had to do with them?" 
 
 Procula: "Took them, I said. Took them, and has 
 them yet." 
 
 Pilate : "Thou art still in thy dreams. Get thee to bed, 
 My Love. I'll wait another, brighter hour 
 To hear this out." 
 
 [21] 
 
Procula : "Nay, thou shalt hear it now. 
 
 I saw this man, or God, this Nazarene, 
 Walk in a garden, fair with flowers and brooks. 
 Among a throng of little ones, and ours. 
 Your son and mine, and our lost little maid. 
 Walked there with him." 
 
 Pilate: "Where was this garden, then?' 
 
 Procula : "No where on earth, I think. Elysium 
 Alone knows such a scene ; but 0, my Lord, 
 I looked our little daughter in the eyes, 
 I saw her stretch her baby arms to me. 
 And babble mine own name ; and yet when I 
 Leaned forth to clasp her, straight she turned away, 
 And clung fast to his robe, who looked on me 
 And said, "These two are mine : thine other son 
 And thee, I wait." 
 
 Pilate: "And this, thou sayest, was Jesus?" 
 
 Procula : "Yes ; not that pale, broken man who passed 
 these walls, 
 But Christ at home. The trees bent down to him 
 Their trembling limbs, and winds forgot to blow, 
 Or waters run, and Nature breathless stood 
 The while he passed ; and with a smile outbid 
 A mother's love for her own flesh and blood." 
 
 Pilate : There is the thing that brought the Nazarene 
 His end, the woman in him. Power to hurt, 
 Not power to heal, is what the raving Jews 
 And these wild times demand. Had Jesus shown 
 Barabbas' power, then had Barabbas died, 
 Not Jesus." 
 
 [22] 
 
Procula : "What is this thing thou sayest? 
 
 Christ hath no power ? Thy night is deep indeed ! 
 Art thou bemused still ? When e'er before 
 Was there a Roman judge who washed his hands 
 Of Justice? And when this man's death is like 
 To pull the world down round us, thinkest thou 
 His is but woman's might, and but to wash 
 Again, will set all straight?" 
 
 Pilate: "This passes patience. 
 
 I thought, belike, that somewhat in thy dreams 
 Might lighten this day's darkness ; but if this 
 Be all"— 
 
 Procula : "This all ? Oh, could I tell it out, 
 
 Just as I saw and heard ! 
 
 I heard a cry — 
 Aye, and I hear it yet !" 
 
 (She presses her hands to her ears a moment, but con- 
 tinues.) 
 
 "I dreamed I saw 
 A band of horsemen waiting at a gate. 
 Watching a milk-white steed caparisoned 
 For a king's use ; and on them through the wall 
 Rang a great cry, and through the swinging gate 
 Came whom they waited, came the Nazarene, 
 Wearing a majesty that even the light 
 Looked on but tremblingly, as half in doubt 
 If it had leave or no ; on his white steed 
 He mounted, and rode forth, rode slowly forth 
 To his far crowning. Then a trumpet blew 
 That seemed as heedless of all human ears 
 As sunrise is of witness, yet had power 
 To wake the dead, and hills and seas and stars 
 Huddle and hurry; and myself arose 
 To answer, and awoke." 
 
 [23] 
 
Pilate: "To answer what ?" 
 
 Procula: "I know not what; but not that trumpet 
 dread 
 So pierced mine inmost soul as that death-cry 
 Behind the wall — And now — Thou Nazarene, 
 I hear it again !" 
 
 (She leaps to her feet. Outside the walls, 
 Jesus dies on the cross with a great cry, and the 
 earthquake begins.) 
 
 Pilate : "Look how the walls shake !" 
 
 Hark, there! They fall! Come, Procula, in haste!" 
 
 (He seizes her by the arm, but she pulls free, sits down 
 and lets her hands drop to her sides.) 
 
 Procula : "It is the end !" 
 
 Goat- HERD (From the street outside) : 
 
 "Now all's done. God is dead!" 
 
 (Curtain) 
 
 [24]