  Stephen, having returned, goes at once to the chiliarch, his secret purpose being to convict Shimei of his crime, through certain evidence which he thinks he can bring to bear on the case. To the youth's disappointment and chagrin, he is received coldly and repellently by the chiliarch now much out of humor as a sequel to his disagreeable interview with Shimei. Dismissed crestfallen to go, Stephen is suddenly confronted at the door by Shimei, at that moment arriving in obedience to a summons from the chiliarch. The mutual encounter has the effect on the chiliarch observing it, to change his attitude toward Stephen, making it favorable again. Shimei is sent to CÆsarea under suspicion; where Felix, the governor, plans a hearing for the prisoner Paul. SHIMEI AND YOUNG STEPHEN At CÆsarea soon the Sanhedrim, By deputy and advocate, appeared Before the bar of Felix governor, To implead the prisoner Paul. The high-priest brought The weight and dignity of rulership Supreme among his people, to impress On Felix fitting sense of the grave cause Now come before him to be judged. Thin veiled Beneath the decent fair exterior show Of only public and judicial aim And motive in that ruler of the Jews (The high-priest Ananias), deep there wrought A leaven of personal vindictiveness Twofold, sullen resentment of affront, And, added, that least placable, that worst Hatred, the hatred toward a brother wronged. Whom he, from his own judgment-seat—profaned Thus by his profanation of the law— Had wantonly commanded to be smitten Be proved, forsooth, a wretch unmeet to live. But Shimei, as prime mover, was left, too, To be prime manager, of all. Far less Festive, than his old wont, in exercise Of that exhaustless wit his own in wile, Serious he now, yea even to sadness, seemed. And reason was. For Claudius Lysias Had summoned him to presence in the fort; And there, hap not to have been imagined, he, Besides the haughty Roman chief, had met Another face more welcome scarce than his. Young Stephen's purpose, not revealed, had been To move some action against Shimei. This gentle Hebrew youth inherited Large measure of the wilful spirit high That in the blood of all his kindred ran. Of his own motion he, without advice, Nay, headstrong, in the teeth of thwart advice, Which, though he sought it not, he full well felt In current counter to his wish—self-moved Thus, and self-willed, Paul's nephew had resolved By putting in the place of the accused Instead of the accuser's, that base man, His uncle's foe—to free his uncle's state, Once and for all, from danger and annoy Due to the restless hate of Shimei. The friendly chiliarch was his first resort. In one swift glance, which more was of the mind Itself, perceiving as it were without Organ, than of the eye with which it saw, Stephen that night, upon the point of time When Shimei was arrested and brought in, A glimpse had caught of two receding forms Of men upon the street, flying as seemed; Whom instantly he knew to be the same With that pair of conspirators to slay, Whose whispers had revealed their plot to him: These were the stout young fellows Shimei set To lie in wait for the escaping Paul. The moment they beheld their master seized, They quickly had betaken them to flight; But Stephen's mind flew faster than their feet, And with intangible tether had them bound. Made him secure of recognizing them Whenever or wherever seen again. With so much clue as this, no more, in hand, To guide him in the quest of testimony That might his crimes bring home to Shimei— Supposed still safe in keeping at the fort— Stephen his audience with the chiliarch sought. The bright hope that he brought in coming, sprung From grateful recollection of the grace He found, that morning, in the Roman's eyes, Was promptly damped to deep dejection now. The chiliarch met him with a cold and sour Severity of aspect that repelled, Beyond the youth's capacity—unbuoyed, For this occasion, with approving sense Of well-advised attempt at least, if vain— To front it with unruffled brow. Abashed He stood, confused; the blood rushed to his face; His tongue clung to his mouth's roof; and in all He less looked like that youthful innocence Which won the Roman so in his soft mood, Than like the conscious guilt, uncovered now, The chiliarch by reaction was relapsed Into his sternest temper of disdain Embittered by suspicious cynicism; Apt sequel of the interview prolonged With Shimei, and the final passionate Ejection of that Hebrew from the fort. He now awaiting Shimei, summoned back Once more, to be to CÆsarea sent, Here was that Stephen—despicable he Too, doubtless, like his despicable race! Such was the prompt involuntary set, Inhospitable, of the chiliarch's thought, For welcome of the youth before him there. To Stephen's stammering words about those men, And how they might be made to testify Of Shimei's desperate plot to murder Paul, Thus bringing Shimei to deservÉd doom, The Roman tartly said: "Aye, aye, young sir, I think it like, seems altogether like. You Jews could, all of you, I doubt not, swear Of one another, brethren as ye be, Things damnable enough to crucify Swear true! But thanks, lad, I have had my fill At present of these proffered services." The manner was dismissory, more even Than were the words, and Stephen bowed to go. But his own manner in thus bowing changed, Although he spoke not, to such dignity, Recovered from his discomposure late, So instantly recovered, and so pure— Adulterate in no trace with hardihood— A dignity comportable with youth, While eloquent of virtue and high mind, And, like a robe, so beautifully worn Over a person and a gesture fair, That Claudius Lysias, cynic as he was That moment, seeing could not but admire. He, on the point to bid the youth remain, Wavering, not quite persuaded,—at the door, Bowing his different bow, stood Shimei; That sight and contrast fixed his wavering mind. "Stay thou, my lad," abruptly he exclaimed— Wherewith another fall the countenance fell Of Shimei, cringing, to his footsteps glued. The chiliarch in a sudden humor said; "I have a fancy I should like to see How two reciprocal accusers such As you are, rogues both—though one young, one old, In roguery—if your mutual witness hold— I say, the fancy takes me to observe How two accusers of each other, like Yourselves, confronted in close quarters thus, Will severally enjoy each other's stare." An indescribable something in the tone Of Claudius Lysias speaking thus, or look Perhaps, couched in the eye or on the face Playing, signified clear to Shimei That the same words were differently meant To Stephen and to him; spoken to him In earnest, in but pleasantry to Stephen. Stephen's high air, in proud sense of his worth Wronged by misdoubt, had Shimei led astray. He saw it as a sign of prosperous suit— Doubtless against himself—just finished there. Already tuned to fear, his conscious mind, Of some detection that he could not guess, Suddenly wrote abroad on all his mien A patent full conviction of himself. As more and more his heart misgave him, worse Ever and worse his brow was discomposed. The lively opposite of Shimei's change Was meantime making Stephen's face more fair. He, at the chiliarch's mating of himself With Shimei, though in veriest raillery meant, Felt all the soul of manliness in him Stung to its most resistant; as he turned, Obedient to the chiliarch's word, and looked At Shimei, such transfigurement there passed Upon him that he stood there glorified. An infinite repellence seemed to ray From out his eyes, and put impassable Remove between him and that other, while Ascendance, as peculiar to a race And rank of being wholly different, Endued him, like a natural right to reign. Such kingly to such servile seen opposed, Surprised the chiliarch into altered mood. He gave to Shimei what he wrote to read. It was a letter Shimei should himself Convey to Felix governor; it ran: "Who brings this is a rascal, as I judge; He comes to accuse the Jewish prisoner Paul. Detain him, if thee please, to see the end; The end should be perhaps a cross for him!" Wincing, the miscreant read; he, reading, felt Draw, from Rome's hand, the coil about his neck. Choking for speech, he, ere he found it, heard The chiliarch say, with voice hard like a flint: "Thou hast thine errand; tarry not, but go. Nay, bide a moment; let the youngster see What message I have given thee to bear; Then, if so chance thou lose it on the way, He can supply thy lack of carefulness!" His air that of the miser who, compelled, Gives up gold hoarded, like his own heart's blood, Shimei, with griping pangs, in sick recoil Of grudging overmastered to submit, Yielded, as if he were withholding it, The hateful letter into Stephen's hand. Deigned a reluctant look, that, seeking not, Yet seized, the sense of that which Shimei showed; Softened, he gave the parchment back to him. Prodded with such oblique sarcastic spur To heed of sinister commission such, Shimei withdrew, a miserable man. The chiliarch then to Stephen—who, at once Pity of Shimei's utter wretchedness, Shame of his utter abjectness, conceived— Said, with changed tone: "My lad, I think thee true; That miscreant vexed me into petulance. Thou hast not altogether missed thy mark In coming hither now, although I thus Seem to let Shimei for the present slip. Follow him, if thou wilt, to CÆsarea. With letter of Bellerophon in charge, He carries his own sentence thither hence; Watch it—if slow in execution, sure!" Sobered by triumph, and not triumphing, Made pensive rather, Stephen went away. Forth from the hour when Shimei, so dismissed, Shrank out of presence at Antonia Collapsed in spirit as in mien and port, He to the end was seen an altered man. Dejected, absent, like a criminal Convicted of his crime, sentenced to die, Though day of death unfixed, imprisoned not, Nay, moving, as if free, about the world, To view not different from his fellow-men, Yet with a sense forever haunting him Of doom uncertainly suspended still Above him, that at any moment might In avalanche descend upon his head— So he lived joyless, the elastic spring Broken that buoyed him to his wickedness. But loth he had to CÆsarea gone, Where, with wry looks and deprecation vain, He gave the letter to the governor; Had he, to ease his case, dared fail the trust, The failure would have failed his case to ease, Nay, rather, would have harder made his case, Since Stephen could report what he did not, And could besides report his negligence. But Shimei dared not fail; he knew offence, Speedier the dreaded danger ruining down. Joy is to some a spring of energy, Which failing, all their force for action fails— They having in themselves no virtue proof Against the palsying touch ill fortune brings; Of such was Shimei. In his broken state, His measures he took feebly, without hope. The wish—which with the expectation joined Would have made hope—yea, even the very wish, That life and strength of hope, was well-nigh dead In him; for he no longer now desired The thing he wrought for still, under constraint Of habit, and that strange necessity Which sense of many eyes upon him fixed To watch him working the familiar wont Of Shimei, bred within this wretched man, Forcing him like a fate. Fit tool he found In one Tertullus—hireling Roman tongue, Or function mere, not organ—who, for price, Spoke customary things accusing Paul To Felix, for the Jews; these joined their voice But Paul denying their base charges all, Denying and defying to the proof, The governor postponed them for a time. Paul he remanded into custody, But bade with courteous ways distinguish him; Whereof the secret cause was, not a sense In Felix of the righteousness of Paul, With therefore sweet magnanimous desire To grace him what in loyalty he could— Of no such height was Felix capable— The cause none other was than Shimei; Who Paul however served not, but himself. For Shimei dreaded what he seemed to seek, The sentence "Guilty," at the judgment-bar Of Felix on this prisoner Paul pronounced; Dreaded it, lest appeal therefrom be claimed By Paul to the imperial ear at Rome. He himself, Shimei, then might be compelled To go likewise the same unwelcome way, Though witness and accuser only named, Yet labelled target for suspicious eyes, Where eyes suspicious oft portended doom. Mysterious looks and reticences deep, As of a man who could, if but he would, And were it wise, tell much that, left untold, Might well be guessed from things kept back, yet thus, And thus, and thus (in Shimei's pantomime) Winked with the eye and with the shoulder shrugged— Hint signalled that there hid a gold mine here, For who, with power like his, conjoined the skill To make it yield its treasure to demand; This Paul had wealthy friends who gladly would Buy at large price indulgences for him. Let Felix hold out hopes, deferring still, Suffer his friends to come and visit Paul, Give hearings to his case, but naught decide, Weary him out, and them, with long delays— Till a realm's ransom woo his clutch at last. Now Shimei thus consummately contrived; For Felix was a mercenary soul, Who governed in the spirit of a slave. He, therefore, doubting not that Shimei Pander to him, accuser for the Jews) Was all the rascal that the chiliarch guessed, Yet deemed he saw his profit in the man. He could use Shimei to his own behoof, In winning what he coveted from Paul; Meantime remitting not his hold on him For final expiation of his crimes. The two, well fitted to each other, thus Played each his several sordid game with each, And neither by the other was deceived, Both equally incapable of trust, As equally unworthy to be trusted— Until, two years accomplished, Felix fell From power at CÆsarea; when, his greed Long disappointed of its glut of gain From Paul, he left him there in prison. He hoped The dreaded accusation of the Jews For his abuse of power, surpassing bound, Might less fierce follow him to Rome, should he, By that injustice added, in their eyes His thousands of injustices atone. Moreover Felix hated Paul, as hates The conscience yielding, yet the will withstands. For, during the imprisonment of Paul, And that prolonged delay of trial due Him, this base freedman—basely raised to be A ruler—as a pleasure to his wife, Devised a feast of eloquence for her. She was a Jewess, beautiful as vile, And as in beauty brilliant, so in wit; She would enjoy it, like a spectacle, To sit, in emulated state, a queen Beside her husband in his judgment-hall, And there, at ease reclined, her lord's delight, In her resplendent and voluptuous bloom, Disport herself at leisure, eye and ear Tasting their satisfaction to the full, To see and hear her famous countryman Expound his doctrine and defend his cause. Not often, in his rude JudÆan seat Of government in banishment, could he Proffer the stately partner of his throne An equal hope of entertainment rare. So, royal in their pomp of progress, came, Adulterous Drusilla, guilty pair! And, on his throne of judgment seating him, Bade Paul before them, in his prisoner's chain, To burn the splendors of his oratory In pleading for the faith of Jesus Christ— Fresh pastime to the cloyed and jaded sense For pleasure those voluptuaries brought! Uncalculated thrills, not of delight, That lawless Roman ruler had purveyed Himself, to chase each other in their chill Procession through the currents of his blood, And, shuddering, shoot along his nerves, and freeze His marrow!—conscience in him her last sign Making perhaps that day. But will he heed? Or will the terrors of the world to come Vainly appal him with the eternal fear?
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