| |
CHRISTUS. MY spirit is exceeding sorrowful | |
| Even unto death! Tarry ye here and watch. He goes apart. | |
| |
PETER. Under this ancient olive-tree, that spreads | |
| Its broad centennial branches like a tent, | |
Let us lie down and rest.
JOHN. What are those torches, | 5 |
| That glimmer on Brook Kedron there below us? | |
| |
JAMES. It is some marriage feast; the joyful maidens | |
Go out to meet the bridegroom.
PETER. I am weary. | |
| The struggles of this day have overcome me. They sleep. | |
| |
CHRISTUS, falling on his face. Father! all things are possible to thee,— | 10 |
| Oh let this cup pass from me! Nevertheless | |
| Not as I will, but as thou wilt, be done! Returning to the Disciples. | |
| What! could ye not watch with me for one hour? | |
| Oh watch and pray, that ye may enter not | |
| Into temptation. For the spirit indeed | 15 |
Is willing, but the flesh is weak!
JOHN. Alas! | |
| It is for sorrow that our eyes are heavy.— | |
| I see again the glimmer of those torches | |
| Among the olives; they are coming hither. | |
| |
JAMES. Outside the garden wall the path divides; | 20 |
| Surely they come not hither. They sleep again.
CHRISTUS, as before. O my Father! | |
| If this cup may not pass away from me, | |
| Except I drink of it, thy will be done. Returning to the Disciples. | |
Sleep on; and take your rest!
JOHN. Beloved Master, | |
| Alas! we know not what to answer thee! | 25 |
| It is for sorrow that our eyes are heavy.— | |
| Behold, the torches now encompass us. | |
| |
JAMES. They do but go about the garden wall, | |
| Seeking for some one, or for something lost. They sleep again. | |
| |
CHRISTUS, as before. If this cup may not pass away from me, | 30 |
| Except I drink of it, thy will be done. Returning to the Disciples. | |
| It is enough! Behold, the Son of Man | |
| Hath been betrayed into the hands of sinners! | |
| The hour is come. Rise up, let us be going; | |
| For he that shall betray me is at hand. | 35 |
| |
JOHN. Ah me! See, from his forehead, in the torchlight, | |
| Great drops of blood are falling to the ground! | |
| |
PETER. What lights are these? What torches glare and glisten | |
| Upon the swords and armor of these men? | |
| And there among them Judas Iscariot! He smites the servant of the High-Priest with his sword. | 40 |
| |
CHRISTUS. Put up thy sword into its sheath; for they | |
| That take the sword shall perish with the sword. | |
| The cup my Father hath given me to drink, | |
| Shall I not drink it? Think’st thou that I cannot | |
| Pray to my Father, and that He shall give me | 45 |
| More than twelve legions of angels presently? | |
| |
JUDAS to CHRISTUS, kissing him. Hail, Master! hail!
CHRISTUS. Friend, wherefore art thou come? | |
Whom seek ye?
CAPTAIN OF THE TEMPLE. Jesus of Nazareth.
CHRISTUS. I am he. | |
| Are ye come hither as against a thief, | |
| With sword and staves to take me? When I daily | 50 |
| Was with you in the Temple, ye stretched forth | |
| No hands to take me! But this is your hour, | |
| And this the power of darkness. If ye seek | |
| Me only, let these others go their way. |
