JAIRUS at the feet of CHRISTUS.O MASTER! I entreat thee! I implore thee!
|My daughter lieth at the point of death;|
|I pray thee come and lay thy hands upon her,|
|And she shall live!|
CHRISTUS. Who was it touched my garments?
SIMON PETER.Thou seest the multitude that throng and press thee,
|And sayest thou: Who touched me? T was not I.|
CHRISTUS.Some one hath touched my garments; I perceive
|That virtue is gone out of me.|
A WOMAN. O Master!
|Forgive me! For I said within myself,|
|If I so much as touch his garments hem,|| 10|
|I shall be whole.|
HRISTUS. Be of good comfort, daughter!
|Thy faith hath made thee whole. Depart in peace.|
A MESSENGER from the house.Why troublest thou the Master? Hearest thou not
|The flute-players, and the voices of the women|
|Singing their lamentation? She is dead!|| 15|
THE MINSTRELS AND MOURNERS.We have girded ourselves with sackcloth!
|We have covered our heads with ashes!|
|For our young men die, and our maidens|
|Swoon in the streets of the city;|
|And into their mothers bosom|| 20|
|They pour out their souls like water!|
CHRISTUS, going in.Give place. Why make ye this ado, and weep?
|She is not dead, but sleepeth.|
THE MOTHER, from within. Cruel Death!
|To take away from me this tender blossom!|
|To take away my dove, my lamb, my darling!|| 25|
THE MINSTRELS AND MOURNERS.He hath led me and brought into darkness,
|Like the dead of old in dark places!|
|He hath bent his bow, and hath set me|
|Apart as a mark for his arrow!|
|He hath covered himself with a cloud,|| 30|
|That our prayer should not pass through and reach him!|
THE CROWD.He stands beside her bed! He takes her hand!
|Listen, he speaks to her!|
CHRISTUS, within. Maiden, arise!
THE CROWD.See, she obeys his voice! She stirs! She lives!
|Her mother holds her folded in her arms!|| 35|
|O miracle of miracles! O marvel!|