  The centurion Julius, having in charge the prisoners on board including Paul, examines Shimei, accused of his crime by the sentinel whom the crafty Hebrew had sought to bribe. Shimei makes a desperate effort to clear himself by bringing a countercharge against Paul of the same murderous attempt through bribe upon his, Shimei's, life. Almost on the point of succeeding, he is confronted first with Felix, then with Stephen, last with Paul—to his complete undoing. SHIMEI BEFORE JULIUS. The waking dreams of Shimei, in his chains And darkness, were not altogether those Foreshadowed by the soldier bitterly To him—dreams of foreboding and despair Only; that Roman had not learned that Jew. The touch and prick of uttermost dismay Stung him to one more struggle for himself. Ere Julius, with the morning, had him forth To inquest from his dungeon, that quick brain Had ripe and ready, conjured up in thought, For self-defense, with snare involved for Paul, A desperate last compacture of deceit; Desperate, yet deftly woven, and staggering, Till the contriver was now quite undone, Confronted with ascendant truth and power. "What sayest thou, Jew," with challenge lowering stern, Asked the centurion of his prisoner, "In answer to the charge against thee laid?" "What say?" with shrug of shoulder Shimei said; And haled me and bestowed me as he would, While at his leisure then his tale he told, Forestalling mine, to prepossess thine ear. I come too late; for I should speak in vain." "Worse than in vain such words as those thou speakest. Out on thine insolence, thou Hebrew dog!" Savagely the centurion said. "'Too late'! 'Too late'! Know, Jew, too late it never is, Where Roman justice undertakes, for one Accused of crime to answer for himself. True judge's ear cannot be 'prepossessed.' Even now, deserving, as thou art, to be Buffeted, rather than aught further heard, Speak on and say thy say; but give good heed Thou curb thy tongue from insolence and lies." "From lying I shall have no need my tongue To guard," said Shimei; "but from insolence— Beseech thy grace, a plain blunt man am I, Will it be insolence, if I inquire What is the crime that I am charged withal?" Curtly the Roman said: "Attempt to bribe To break his oath and be a murderer." "No stint of generous measure to the charge," Said Shimei; "yet I ought not to complain, I, who a charge of ampler measure would Myself have brought (as well as he knew who now, And for that very cause, accuses me) Had I been first; and first I should have been, But for duress, and also this he knew, Thence the duress—outrageous act from him, Lese-majesty committed against thee!— I say, had I beforehand been with him To gain thine ear and a foul plot disclose." The soldier stood in stupid blank amaze, With silence by his discipline enforced, To hear this frontless impudence of fraud. He so much looked the guilt in slant implied By Shimei, that no marvel Julius glanced From one to the other of the two, perplexed, Each the accuser and accused of each. His soldier was a trusty man supposed; The Jew came clouded and suspect as false: But always it was possible repute "Thou riddlest like an oracle: be plain And outright," so to Shimei Julius spoke. "Thou hast vaguely shadowed some worse shape of crime Thou couldst reveal than that which seems revealed, Accused to thee. What could be worse misdeed Than breach attempted of a soldier's faith To purchase murder?" "Breach accomplished," said Shimei, "were worse; and, in a just assay, Worse to attaint the honor of a man Upright and good and true, and of him make A criminal worthy of death, and doomed As such to die: yea, a far darker crime Than were purveyal of the needed stroke To end a little earlier some base life, Forfeit at any rate by guilt, and fain Itself to court such refuge from despair. Still more were worse the crime whereof I speak, Let the man so attainted in his truth Be one that moment bearing office grave As an accuser and a witness sworn Against such very criminal himself. Against the single man however just, But crime against justice itself and law, And even against the outraged human race." There was a stumbling incongruity— Blasphemous, had it been less whimsical, Whimsical, had it been less blasphemous— Between the man himself and what he said. His words were noble, or had noble been But that the ignoble man who uttered them Gainsaid them with the whole of what he was. The soldier more and more astounded stood, Or cowered, say rather, underneath the frown Beetling and imminent of falsehood such, Mountainous high, and like a mountain set Immovable. (Immovable it seemed, But at its heart with fear was tremulous, And, to the proper breath, would presently Melt, like cloud-mountain massed of misty stone To the wind's touch.) As in a nightmare, he Could no least gesture move to give the lie, Browbeaten half to disbelieve himself. Julius, nonplussed to see his soldier's air Almost confessing judgment on himself, Skeptic, yet therewithal impressed despite, Imposed on even, by a mock-majesty, The specious counterfeit of virtue wroth But, though wroth, calm in conscious innocence, Couched in the lofty words of Shimei, While by his aspect blatantly belied— Julius, thus wondering, curious, frowned and said: "Cease from preamble, and forth with thy charge! No further swelling phrases, large and vague; But facts—or fictions—in plain terms and few." Audience at length prepared, so Shimei deemed, His story, well before prepared, he told: "I lingered late last night upon the deck: Slow pacing up and down for exercise, I strict bethought me how I best might quit The serious task committed to my hands Of seeking sentence on a criminal There at the fountain and prime spring of law And justice, that august tribunal last, The imperial seat at Rome. While I thus mused, The Providence that, dark sometimes and slow, The flying footsteps of foul crime with scourge, Or human vengeance help to overtake, Showed me a light, which, alas, quickly then By envious evil powers in turn was quenched. For it so fell that in the exceeding dark, Unseen, I overheard the prisoner Paul Broach a new plot of bribery and wrong. He promised to the soldier keeping him Large money—earnest offered, and received, I plainly heard it clink from hand to hand." The soldier winced beneath the meaning glance Shot at himself wherewith the subtile Jew Spoke these last words; winced, and sore wished, too late, That, as he first had purposed, he had shown In proof to the centurion Shimei's gold Shoved for a bribe into his hand, but here Adroitly turned to use against himself. What if his captain, prompted by such hint, Should now demand to see that dastard gold! He had been silent touching it because His mere possession of it would, he felt, Look too much like his paltering with a price; Upon him! With such disconcerting thoughts, The soldier listened like a criminal, As Shimei with calm iteration said:— "Thus would Paul buy his keeper to forswear Against the one man he most feared, myself, That I had sought to bribe a soldier's faith, Bargaining with him to fling overboard His prisoner and so rid him from the world. 'Thou sawest,' Paul told the soldier, 'how at Sidon An ample sum was put into his hands By wealthy friends there': he all this now pledged To be his keeper's, no denary short, If but he would traduce me thus, and so Both break the damning power I else could wield Against him, and, besides, my life destroy. Thy soldier yielded: grievous wrong indeed, Yet him I can forgive, for less as bribed He faltered, than as overcome he fell. Paul is the master of an evil art To make his subject firmly hold for true What, free from sorcery, he would know was false. He, in the very act and article Of sketching what his victim was on me Produce of hearing his own words from me. A trick Paul has of vocal mimicry— Sleight of longiloquence, whereby he throws To distance, as may like, his uttered words, To make them seem another's, not his own— Aided him here; I hardly knew, myself, Hearing him speak, but that the voice was mine. Thus I account for it, that, without blame So much to him himself, he being deceived, This worthy soldier, whom I never wronged, Doubtless an honest fellow in the main, Should in effect malign me so to thee. "In my simplicity, and in my faith Undoubting that, confronted fair with truth, Falsehood must needs take on its proper shape, Then shrivel, ashamed to be at all, I sprang Suddenly up, discovered to the pair. I never dreamed but they would at my feet Fall, and for mercy sue; which Shimei— Soft-hearted ever for another, where Only himself is wronged, however hard He steel his heart where stake is public good— But, to my wonder, and, I own, dismay— This for the moment, but that weakness passed— At a quick sign from Paul, the soldier seized Me and consigned to dungeon for the night. What followed more on deck, I can but guess. I doubt not Paul completed work begun In this poor soldier's mind, and fixed his faith That all had happened as he made report. I pray thee judge his error lightly; he Was of another's will, against his own, Possessed, loth pervert of a power malign." The soldier, hearing, was now witched indeed. Partly his sense of flaw in rectitude— Then suffered when he paltered with the bribe Proffered by Shimei—shook him; and partly he Descried a shift of refuge for himself From dreaded blame at his centurion's hands— Should Julius, as looked likely more and more, At length accept the Hebrew's tale for true— In letting it appear that Paul in fact Had wrought upon him so as Shimei said, To cheat him into honest misbelief. Wherein that glozer, plotting as he went With versatile adjustment to his need— Need shifting, point by point, from phase to phase— Provided for the soldier his escape From the necessity of holding fast, In self-defence, to his first testimony. Thus, if all prospered, Shimei, yea, might yet Save to himself the future chance to use This soldier, more amenable to use. Paul's keeper, thus prepared to falter, heard Ambiguous challenge from the officer: "What sayest thou, soldier? Wast beside thyself? Dazed, hast thou then denounced the innocent man?" Whereto ambiguous answer thus he framed: "If I have done so, it was in excess And haste of zeal to do a soldier's duty, Misapprehended under wicked spell." "Thou art not sure? A witness should be sure; More, be he one denouncing deeds essayed Worthy of death; most, if besides he add An office of the executioner." Thus the centurion to his soldier spoke, Rightly my own last night, I told thee true; But if I was usurped by sorcery To see and hear amiss—why, who can say?" "Go find lord Felix, and, due worship paid, Pray him come hither for a need that waits," So Julius made his soldier messenger. "Grieving to trouble thee so far," he next To Felix, soon appearing, said: "I sent To ask thee of the Jew in presence here. Knowest thou aught of him that might resolve A doubt how much he be to trust for true?" Shimei shrank visibly, while Felix, glad To vent his hatred of the pander, spoke: "As many as his words, so many lies; Trust him thou mayest—to never speak the truth." Wherewith the haughty freedman on his heel Turned, as disdaining to use tongue or ear Further in such a cause, and disappeared. Julius in silence looked a questioning pause At Shimei, who risked parrying answer, thus: "Lord Felix is a disappointed man, Who, if so soured, is gently to be judged. By instance, named occasion, wherein I Had seemed to fail matching my words with deeds. I own I sought to serve him in his need; And if, forsooth, when he his hold on power Felt slipping from his hands, I undertook Freely, in succor of his fainting mind, Somewhat beyond my strength to bring to pass, In reconcilement of my countrymen Against his sway unwontedly aggrieved— Why, I am sorry; but failed promises, Made in good faith, should not be reckoned lies." There seemed to the centurion measure enough Of reason in what Shimei so inferred, If truly he inferred, to leave the doubt Still unresolved with which he was perplexed. While the diversion of the incident With Felix, and of Shimei's parrying, passed, The soldier, so released to cast about At leisure, thought of Stephen standing up, In that so Sphinx-like silence, startlingly, Beside him, in the darkness on the deck, At just the fatal point of his own poise That Hebrew youth would doubtless testify To Shimei's damning;—to his own as well? That were to think of! What would Stephen say? Must it not cloud his own clear truth and faith, To have it told how he abode so long A hearkener to temptation; how he took Gold as for bribe, and greedy seemed of more? Why had he not been first to speak of that? Wisest it looked to him not to invoke A witness of so much uncertain power To bring his own behavior into doubt. And Shimei showed such master of his part, Equal to shifting all appearances This way or that, as best would serve himself, Promised so fair to make his side prevail, Were it not well to choose the chance with him? The soldier fixed to stake on Stephen naught. Shimei meantime had otherwise bethought Himself of Stephen—fearing, yet with hope Prevailing over fear: hardly would he, The soldier, risk to call such witness in. Those twain diversely so with the same thought Whether by some unconscious sympathy His mind drawn into current following theirs, Like idle sea-drift in the wake of ships— Startled them both alike with his next word: "That Hebrew lad, Stephen they call him, go Fetch him; say, 'Come with me,' and no word more." This to the soldier, who soon brought the youth. "Some kin thou to the prisoner Paul, I think?" Said the centurion. "Sister's son," said he. "I had thee well reported of, my lad; Belie not thy good fame, but answer true," Julius to Stephen spoke, adjuring him. "Knowest thou aught, of thine own eye or ear, How Paul thy kinsman was bestead last night?" Now Stephen had not yet to Paul declared Aught of the strange disclosures of the night. Seeing here the plotter of that nameless deed Demoniac, in the part of one accused, Witnessed against with damning testimony, The soldier's, all-sufficing for his doom, Before a judge as Roman sure to be Swift in his sentence upon such a crime— As likeliest best to please his kinsman Paul, Not to go further than compelled, to add Superfluous proof against the wretched man. Sincerely wretched now indeed once more Shimei appeared; effrontery of fraud And his vain confidence of hope forlorn Abashed in him, intolerably rebuked— Not more by this access of evidence (Unlooked for, since that muzzle to his mouth Had so well served to hold the soldier mute From mention of the Hebrew lad)—not more Abashed thus and rebuked, than by the mere Aspect of the clear innocence and truth And virtue, honor and high mind, in fair And noble person there embodied seen In Stephen beamy with his taintless youth. Was it some promise of retrieving yet Possible for this soul, so lost to good, That, broken from that festive confidence Once his in the omnipotence of fraud To answer all his ends, he thus should feel Pain in the neighborhood of nobleness? Wielded that cancels a magician's spell, To shame back wretched Shimei to himself, Nor ever guessing, in his guileless mind, Of possible other posture to affairs Than full exposure of the criminal Already reached, no need of word from him— Stephen to Julius frugally replied: "Paul's case was happy, sir, if this thou meanest, How fared he in the hap which him befell;" Then, conscious of a look not satisfied In Julius, added: "If instead thou meanest What hap was threatened him but came to naught, Then I shall need to answer otherwise." "This I would learn," said Julius, "dost thou know, Of certain knowledge, thine own eye or ear, Where Paul was, and what doing, through the hours Of last night's darkness? How was he bestead? That tell me, if thou knowest, naught else but that. Fact, first; thereafter, fancy—if at all." A little puzzled, but withal relieved, Not to be witness against Shimei, "It happened," Stephen said, "that as the dark They two apart; but nigh at hand I sat, With others, on the deck. As the night waxed, With darkness from the still-withdrawing sun, And then from clouds that blotted out the stars, Almost all went to covert one by one; But Paul abode, and I abode with him. Yet were we from each other separate, And Paul perhaps knew not that I was nigh; But I lay watching him and nursed my thoughts. At first he paced, as musing, up and down, Then, still alone, and still as musing, leaned, In absent long oblivion of himself, Over the vessel's side—into the sea Gazing, like one who read a mystic book. This and naught else he did, until a dash Of rain-drops shredded from the tempest broke His reverie; and then both he and I, Meeting a moment but to say good-night, Housed us for the forgetfulness of sleep." "Thou hast told me all? Communication none Between Paul and this soldier keeping him?" Straitly of Stephen the centurion asked, "With no one," Stephen answered, "spake Paul word, After that converse with his sister, till I met him face to face and changed good night." "Thou hadst some fancy other than thy fact," Said Julius now to Stephen, "some surmise As seemed concerning danger threatened Paul"— But Shimei dimmed so visibly to worse Confession of dismay in countenance, That Julius checked the challenge on his lips, And, turning, said to Shimei: "Need we more? Or art unmasked to thy contentment, Jew? Shall I bid hither Paul, forsooth, and let Thee face the uncle, since the nephew so, Simply to see, thy gullet fills with gall, And twists thy wizened features all awry? Aye, for meseems it were a happy thought, Go, lad, and call thy kinsman hither straight. Stay, hast thou seen him since last night's farewell?" "Nay," answered Stephen. "Well!" the Roman said; "So tell him nothing now of what is here. Haste, bring him." Stephen soon returned with Paul,< br/> Who wondered, knowing naught of all, to see What the encounter was, for him prepared. Not till now ever, since the fateful time When, buoyant with the sense of his reprieve Won for a season from the contact loathed Of Shimei, Paul rode forth Damascus-ward, Had they two in such mutual imminence met. Paul looked at Shimei now, not with regard That, like a bayonet fixed, thrust him aloof, Or icily transpierced him pitiless; But in a gentle pathos of surprise, With sorrow yearning to be sympathy— Reciprocal forgiveness interchanged Between them, and all difference reconciled: A melting heaven of cloudless April blue Ready to weep suffusion of warm tears, The aspect seemed of Paul on Shimei turned. Good will, such wealth, expressed, must needs good will Responsive find, or, failing that, create! Of Paul, to feel its vernal power; downcast His eyes he dropped and missed the virtue shed— Missed, yet not so as not some gracious force, Ungraciously, ill knowing, to admit. "Thou knowest this fellow-countryman of thine?" To the apostle speaking, Julius said. "I know him, yea," said Paul. "And knowest perhaps," Said Julius, further sounding, "what the chance Of mischief from him thou hast late escaped?" "Nay, but not yet have I, I trow," Paul said, "Escaped the evil he fain would bring on me. He hates me, and, if but he could, he would Quite rid me from the world; that know I well." "But knowest thou," the centurion pressed, "how he Plotted last night to have thee overboard To wrestle, swimming, with the swirling sea?" "Nay," Paul said, "nay; I knew not that." He spoke Without surprise couched in his tone; far less, Horror or fear expressed in look or act; No sidelong stab at Shimei from his eye; The weariness with which he spoke. "And yet— And yet," he added, half as if he would Extenuate what he could, "it is his way, The natural way in which he works his will. His will I well can understand, though not, Not so, his way. From that I was averse Ever, but once I had myself his will." "Thou canst not mean his will to get Paul slain," Baffled, the Roman said. "Nay, but his will To persecute and utterly to destroy," Said Paul, "the Name, and all that own the Name, Of my Lord Jesus Christ from off the earth." At that Name, thus with loyal love confessed, The hoarded hatred, deep in Shimei's heart, Toward Jesus, which so long had fed and fired The embers of the hatred his for Paul, Stirred angrily; it almost overcame The cringing craven personal fear in him. Though he indeed spoke not, uttered no sound, There passed upon his visage and his port A change, from abject while malign, to look Malign more, and less abject, fierce and fell. An horrible redemption thus achieved— From what before one only could despise To what one now, forsooth, might reprobate! The quite-collapsed late liar and poltroon Rallied to a resistant attitude, Which stiffened and grew hard like adamant, While further Julius thus his wiles exposed: "The 'way' of this thy fellow-countryman, O Paul, thou hast yet, I judge, in full to learn. When, by the soldier whom he sought to bribe For thy destruction, of his crime accused To me, how, thinkest thou, he would purge himself? Why, by persuading me that Paul, instead, Had himself bought his keeper to forswear Against him, Shimei, such foul plot to slay. Hold I not well thou hadst something still to learn Of the unsounded depths his 'way' seeks out?" Julius said this with look on Shimei fixed, Full of the scorn he felt, each moment more. Like the skilled slinger toying with his stone Swung round and round in air, full length of sway, Through circles viewless swift, but in its pouch For surer aim and fiercer flight at last, And that, the while, the wielder may prolong Both his delight of vengeance tasted so, And his foe's fear accenting his delight; Thus Julius, dallying, teased to wrath his scorn, More threatening as in luxury of reserve Suspended from the outbreak yet to fall. The while the scornful Roman's wroth regard Fixed as if caustic fangs upon the Jew, The Jew, with stoic endurance, steeled himself To take it without blenching. Full well felt Through all his members was that branding look; Though his eyes still were downward bent, as when He dropped them to refuse Paul's sweet good will. But suddenly now, he one first furtive glance Lifting, as if unwillingly, to Paul, Shimei takes on a violent change reverse. A wave of abjectness swept over him That drenched, that drowned, his evil hardihood And wrecked him to a ruin of himself. Julius who saw this change had also seen Turned toward the apostle with inquiring eye. What he saw seized him and usurped his mind— His passion with a mightier passion quelled, Or to another, higher, key transposed: The wrathful scorn that had toward Shimei blazed Became a rapt admiring awe of Paul. For there Paul stood, the meek and lowly mien, |
|
