discipline. Oh! if only it belonged to Judas!
But it belongs to all these people who are weeping, laughing, chattering
as in the market. It belongs to the sun; it belongs to the cross; to the
heart of Jesus, which is dying so slowly.

What an abject heart has Judas! He lays his hand upon it, but it cries
out: "Hosanna," so loud that all may hear. He presses it to the ground,
but it cries, "Hosanna, Hosanna!" like a babbler who scatters holy
mysteries broadcast through the street.

"Be still! Be still!"

Suddenly a loud broken lamentation, dull cries, the last hurried
movements towards the cross. What is it? Have they understood at last?

No, Jesus is dying. But can this be? Yes, Jesus is dying. His pale hands
are motionless, but short convulsions run over His face, and breast,
and legs. But can this be? Yes, He is dying. His breathing becomes less
frequent. It ceases. No, there is yet one sigh, Jesus is still upon the
earth. But is there another? No, no, no. Jesus is dead.

It is finished. Hosanna! Hosanna!

His horror and his dreams are realised. Who will now snatch the victory
from the hands of Iscariot?

It is finished. Let all people on earth stream to Golgotha, and shout
with their million throats, "Hosanna! Hosanna!" And let a sea of
blood and tears be poured out at its foot, and they will find only the
shameful cross and a dead Jesus!

Calmly and coldly Iscariot surveys the dead, letting his gaze rest for a
moment on that neck, which he had kissed only yesterday with a farewell
kiss; and slowly goes away. Now all Time belongs to him, and he walks
without hurry; now all the World belongs to him, and he steps firmly,
like a ruler, like a king, like one who is infinitely and joyfully alone
in the world. He observes the mother of Jesus, and says to her sternly:

"Thou weepest, mother? Weep, weep, and long will all the mothers upon
earth weep with thee: until I come with Jesus and destroy death."

What does he mean? Is he mad, or is he mocking--this Traitor? He is
serious, and his face is stern, and his eyes no longer dart about in
mad haste. Lo! he stands still, and with cold attention views a new,
diminished earth.

It has become small, and he feels the whole of it under his feet. He
looks at the little mountains, quietly reddening under the last rays of
the sun, and he feels the mountains under his feet.

He looks at the sky opening wide its azure mouth; he looks at the small
round disc of the sun, wh