  At the funeral service for Stephen, Shimei was a skulking attendant. He catches at a mention there overheard by him of the name of Saul in connection with that of Stephen, to plot an instigated persecuting visit on Saul's part to Bethany; Shimei hoping that Saul will thus encounter his own sister identified as a Christian. Saul takes a band of men and makes the visit. He finds his intended victims all together at the house of Ruth condoling with her—Rachel indeed among them. After sharp inward conflict, and much effort put forth without success to make his victims abjure their faith, Saul finally takes them to prison. But Rachel, she vainly entreating to share her companions' fate, he leaves behind. She takes upon herself the charge of Ruth's children in their own home, where Saul, month after month, secretly sends to her supply of every need. SAUL AT BETHANY.Among the sons of God, when these one day Came to present themselves before the Lord, Satan came also; and so Shimei, Amid the throng that mourned at Stephen's death, Intruded. With smooth face of sanctimony, Skulking to be unseen or heeded not, He hovered furtive on the outer edge Of audience, when those words of praise were said To hearten—eye and ear alert to mark All that befell. His thought was, 'Here perhaps I shall learn something to the true behoof And profit of our cause—right aim secure For the next blow of vengeance to be struck.' The name of Saul mysteriously conjoined With Rachel's, in abhorrent prophecy As seemed—this, Shimei caught at eagerly And said, 'Aha!' Then, as the throng dispersed Went to seek Saul. Him found that spy malign With the chief priests in council, plotting deep To hunt the sect of Jesus to the death. These had armed Saul with writ and warrant sealed Empowering him to enter where he would, House after house, and whomsoever found, Man be it or woman, guilty of belief In Jesus as Messiah, such to seize And drag to prison. Instantly conceived Shimei a subtle snare to enmesh the feet Of Saul. The proud young zealot Pharisee Should be set on to visit first in search Those homes of Bethany; where, unadvised Perhaps, so Shimei guessed, the brother might, To his dismay, find his own sister one With the disciples of the Nazarene. Then to make prisoner his own flesh and blood, Or openly spare Rachel for kin's sake— This, scandal against scandal doubtful weighed, Would be the hard alternative to Saul. "BelovÉd brother Saul," so Shimei spoke, Not loud, you know, but deep, my mourning was; Not loud, for I am modest, and my wish Was less to be seen than to see; but deep, For there was cause, to one that loved you, Saul, To be sincerely sad on your behalf. Incredible it seems, they spoke your name, Not, as might honor it, with hate and dread, But very ambiguously, to say the least. In fact, I fear you may be compromised, Unless you take prompt measures in the matter. Hark you, a certain orator stood up Who, after praising Stephen to his worth, Distinctly hinted Saul was looked upon As hopeful future pervert to their cause Predestined to fill Stephen's vacant room. The fellow founded on some prophecy Which, as I gathered, Stephen had put forth. Now this preposterous notion, with such folk, Is far more like to prosper, and thus be Noised undesirably, than you might guess, As a report injurious to your name. You will be tainted with disloyalty, In general esteem—to our great loss. As shall decisively and neatly nip This precious piece of prophecy in the bud, And put you out of reach of calumny. You have your warrant and commission; good, Use them at once, sleep not upon them; now, This very night—for domiciliary work Like what you purpose, night is the best time, Birds to their nests, you know, at night come home— This very night, take you a trusty band And make a bold foray at Bethany. There Stephen lived, and there a hotbed yet Thrives of this pestilent heresy. No place Fitter than the abode and vicinage Of your late overmatch in controversy To make first theatre of the exploits You aim at in this different field—field where, With odds so in your favor, you should win. Easier far, given the right support, to drag To dungeon and to death a hundred men Or praying women, all as tame as sheep, Than one impracticable fellow like That Stephen manage in fair controversy! And whence the funeral issued—quarry there You cannot fail to find. The widow too Of Stephen, I watched her, and what I saw Makes me misdoubt her Hebrew orthodoxy. Sound her—an ounce of thorough work done now, Unquestionably thorough, will be worth A hundred weight of paltering by and by. Despise the fear that now and then a man May call you cruel; the worst cruelty, As you and I well know, is ill-timed softness. This thing must be stamped out; it is a plague, It creeps from house to house, no house is safe. Your house, Saul, mine—that sister fair of yours, Yes, treat the thought with scorn, but some fine day, Why not? Saul wakes to find his sister lost." How far unconsciously, Saul could not guess, But Shimei, in that last home thrust of his, Either by pure fortuity, or else With malice the most exquisitely wise, Had hit the quivering quick of Saul's sore pride. Saul winced visibly, and Shimei, satisfied, Saul's thoughts were visions rather; first, he saw His sister as in that farewell with her Bowed beautiful beneath a brother's scorn, Like a meek flower broken with tempest; then, Stephen he saw, his face with God in him Afire, before the council; next, that face Toward heaven upturned, he, far within the veil Agaze, beholding there the glory of God; Once more, the martyr lifting holy hands On high, with his last breath praying for those That slew him, praying also then for Saul! Rachel the while—she rather felt than seen— With tears that did not gather, but that made Her deep eyes deeper than the soundless sea, Looking at him. Swift then the vision changed, And he saw Stephen in the temple court Turn suddenly round on Saul his blinding face To threaten him with promise that, one day, He, Saul himself, should grovel in the dust Before the feet of Jesus crucified! Those visions were as when the lightning-flash, By night, fast following lightning-flash, reveals, Its image on the eye intensely bright. The final vision wrought a fierce revolt In Saul from that relenting which, before, The earlier visions almost made him feel. As with a mortal gripe, his vise-like will Clutched at his heart and held it fast and hard. Scorning to be diverted from his path Because, forsooth, the meddling Shimei Pointed it out to him offensively, Saul moved at once to go to Bethany. Seven servitors he chose, strong men whom use Had, hand and heart, seasoned to such employ— With these a guide—and started on his way. Again the moon shone, as the yesternight, And flooded heaven and earth with glory mild. But her mild glory now was a rebuke To human passion, not a balm to pain. With swords and staves armed, as that night came they Who looked for Jesus in Gethsemane— The needless lamps and torches in their hands With flare and smoke affronting the moonlight— At first these chattered lightly as they walked, But soon the stern, stark, wordless mood of Saul, And his grim purpose in his pace expressed, Urgent and swift, taxing their utmost strength To follow and not fall behind, quite quelled The social spirit in all, and on all went In sullen silence like their chief. Like him, Insensibly each moment more and more, While thought and feeling they shut strictly up Within them from all vent in speech, they these Changed to brute instinct of vindictiveness; Insensibly, like him, with every step Of vehement ongoing, vehement Propulsion gathered they in mind and will To reach and grapple with their task. So on And up with speed they pressed toward Bethany. At Bethany, meanwhile, the flock in fold Abode the coming of those prowler wolves— Unweeting, in sad sense of safety lulled. The sisters, with the brother Lazarus, Had to Ruth's house at eve repaired; they there Under the open sky, and spake with Ruth, Or spake for Ruth to hear, comforting her. "'I am the Resurrection and the Life'"— Thus Martha—"how the very words to me Were spirit of life, were resurrection power, So spoken, from such lips, at such a time, When Lazarus lay sleeping in that swoon Which we call death! I did not need to wait Until my brother should indeed again Arise, obedient, at His word, to feel The utterer of that saying was the Christ." "But when He wept, when Jesus with us wept," Said Mary, "I felt solace in His tears Such that almost I would have always grieved, To be always so comforted." A pause, Then eyes on Lazarus turned, and he: "From where I was—but where I was, although I seem Well to remember, yet could not I tell In any words, or show by any signs, However I might try—I heard His voice Say, 'Lazarus, come forth.' Those round me heard, I thought they heard, with me, that potent voice, Seeming to know it and to understand. That voice goes everywhere and is obeyed, To all the perfect law of liberty, And I obeyed as naturally as I breathe; And I am here, in witness of His power, Whose power is universal through all worlds." "His power is great," said Ruth, "and wide His sway, Yet seems His grace the sovereign of His power." "Yea," Rachel said, "for doth not power in Him Bend to the yoke and service of His grace?" "We easily err," said Lazarus, "seeking here To comprehend the incomprehensible. All difference is in us, for all in Him One and the same is; power is grace and grace Is power, in Him, nay, power and grace is He. And He is ours and we are His, and one Are we with Him and in Him one likewise Each with the other, all." "How blest!" they said, "And the whole family in heaven and earth Are one, and Stephen is with us or we With him, and heaven is here or here is heaven!" A little while in silence and deep muse, With the Almighty Father and His Son. Then, "Lo, let us join hands," they said, "and sing That psalm which breathes of unity like this." With braided tones, in unison they sang: 'Behold, how good it is for brethren here, 'How pleasant, thus in unity to dwell 'Together! It is like that costly chrism 'Upon the head which overflowing ran 'Down Aaron's beard and down his garment's folds, 'Abundant as the dew of Hermon drops, 'Distilled, upon the heights of Sion where 'Jehovah fixed the blessing, life, even life 'Forevermore.' "A sweet strain and a rich," Said Lazarus; "David touched it to his harp, Taught by the Holy Spirit. Nevertheless, Something it lacks to fill the measure up To that deep sense of oneness which we feel In Jesus, since He came, since Jesus came And spake, then went, but came again, in us Forever to abide. Cannot we sing Some words of His, as tunable, more deep? Such words He spake in a celestial rhythm They sat as in the Holy of holies with Him, And John leaned on His bosom where He sat. I have heard John rehearse the heavenly words Until at length I too have them by heart." Then Lazarus gave them sentences, which all Chanted in simple measure low and sweet: 'Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe 'In God, also in Me believe. Within 'My Father's house there many mansions are. 'I should have told you, had it not been so, 'Because I go to fit a place for you. 'And if I go and fit for you a place, 'I shall return and take you to Myself, 'That where I am there ye may also be.' Was it a premonition, or did grief Surge up through peace and joy to claim its own? Said Lazarus: "Yet He told us, 'In the world Ye will have tribulation, though in Me Ye shall have peace.' With tribulation, peace!" His closing words they took from Lazarus' lips, "With tribulation, peace!" and of them made A musical refrain half sad, half glad, When ever were there cadences more sweet, More sweet or more pathetic? Thrice sang they Those words together; but, at the fourth time, Just in that breath between the rise and fall, Before from 'tribulation' they touched 'peace'— A shock as of a mace struck on the door, Which yielded, and abrupt there strode in—Saul! Saul was alone; his men he left without. The band had first the sisters' dwelling sought, To find the inmates gone—fled, as Saul guessed. Without delay, they came to Ruth's abode, Fiercer from disappointment Saul. But though Ruthless he came, he now, arrested there, Ruthful a moment stood at gaze. He saw Four women and one man in simple sort Sitting together in communion still. They did not look like culprits, nay, a light Purer than purest moonlight seemed to shine From out their faces underneath the moon. It was a feast of comfort that they kept, Those four, with Ruth the widowed—this Saul saw, And his heart thawed to pity and sheer shame. Without! The chief priests and the Sanhedrim! And Shimei! And Saul, with all Saul owed To Saul's fair fame, his conscience, and his God! This all was in an instant, while he yet Only the group and not the persons saw Who made the group, and so before he knew His sister in her sombre different garb Disguised and in the half light of the moon. As Rachel now he fully recognized, Dismay almost unmanned him once again. Then anger to dismay succeeding made His brother's heart in him against her burn The hotter that it was a brother's heart. Speechless he hung, because he could not speak For anger; but when she, adventuring, drew Near him and said, "Brother, I pray thee let Me speak with thee apart a moment," then The vials of his speech he broke on her: "'Brother'! Thou shalt not 'brother' me. Thou hast No brother more, no sister I. Once, yea— But that is long ago, and she is dead, My sister, and in her name will I hear In that appeal. Better hadst thou bode dumb. Go, woman! Thither! Sit thee with thine own!" Saul, with his finger pointing to her seat, Just left, in added scorn, spurned her from him. Then Lazarus spoke: "With me do what thou wilt; But these are women, let me stand for them." "Stand for thyself," said Saul, "and answer me. Thou art called Lazarus, I trow?" "Thou hast said," Lazarus replied. "Well, friend, with thee," said Saul, "I have to speak. Disciple art thou, then, Of Jesus Nazarene, late crucified?" "Of Jesus," full confessing, Lazarus said, "Of Jesus, whom, not knowing what they did, Men crucified, but whom God glorified, Raising Him from the dead and seating Him At the right hand of glory in the heavens— Of Him I am disciple. Bless His name!" "Thou art young to utter blasphemy," said Saul; "Sure unadvisedly thou hast spoken this. Unsay it instantly, and swear it false, Or, by the warrant of the Sanhedrim, The way of Stephen and all heretics!" "Thou speakest idly," Lazarus said to Saul; "Prison and death no terrors have for me. The Lord I serve is Lord of life and death." "Yea, I have heard," said Saul to Lazarus, "Thou boastest to have been from death itself Called back to life by whom thou namest Christ. Let him, once more, call thee from out the tomb To which I shall consign thee—if he can. Saul then perhaps will his disciple be! Poor fool, fanatic, what shall I call thee? Persist not in this folly. Be a Jew, A Jew indeed, nor fling thy life away. Anathema be Jesus!' say but that, Thou, Lazarus, and all the rest, with thee, And I go hence taking the sword away, The sword of just authority, undrawn, Asleep within its scabbard, ye all safe, All Jews indeed, and I given back again A sister, Rachel mine, won from the dead! 'Anathema be Jesus!' say those words." Saul ceased, awaiting what those five would do. As with one will to all—their eyes upraised, And their hands clasped in ecstasy of awe— Together "Alleluia Jesus!" said. On Saul a power like lightning fallen from heaven Fell, at that adoration from their lips. A moment he stood stupefied, and then, With a great wrench of scornful will, he freed Himself and summoned his retainers in. These entered rudely, but abashed they hung, And wondering saw their master half abashed, Before that little company clothed on With virtue like a dreadful panoply. Half with the air of one subdued, or one Feeling he acts by sufferance not by power, Saul bids bind all—save Rachel—and forthwith Lead them to prison. "Also me, bind me," So Rachel to the men said eagerly, And offered her fair wrists. They looked at Saul, But Saul vouchsafed to them nor word nor sign. Still, 'No,' they gathered from that cold aspect In him which seemed to say, 'That which I bid, Beseechingly then turned and said: "O Saul, Full well I know thou doest this, constrained By conscience. Then by conscience be constrained To let thy men bind also me, who am As guilty as these are and with them should share One lot." "I did not come here to be taught My duty," Saul said, "least of all by thee. And least of all from thee will I abide To be adjured as by my conscience. Once I had a sister, she was conscience to me, But, as I told thee, that was long ago, And she is dead, my sister!" Sadness mixed, Unmeant, resisted, irresistible, With Saul's enforced hardheartedness, which broke His tone to pathos, and, despite himself With those last words he burst in tears. He shook In shudders of strong agony, while all Wondered, but Rachel did not wonder, she Knew far too well her brother, far too well Knew their joint past, the two pasts they had had Together, long and happy one, and one She pitied him, but strongly did not weep— Though afterward, alone, remembering, She wept as if her eyes were fountains of tears— With him now Rachel would not weep, for she Knew far too well her brother, that he scorned Himself for weeping those hot tears, and would Be vexed to see tears wept in sympathy As if with will he let his mood relent. So Rachel held her pity hard shut up Within her heart, which ached the more denied Its wished-for vent in tears, and Saul soon curbed His passion and in other passion veiled. "Haste, there!" he said, sharp turning on his men, "The night flies, while ye loiter." Now the men Already had bound Lazarus. He, ere yet The shameful needless bonds upon the wrists Of those four gentle women were made fast, Said: "Saul, what evil have these women done That they deserve roughness like this? I go Willingly with thee, albeit innocent, For I a man am and can well endure Bonds, stripes, dungeon, or death, having such hope Whatever they may be, compared with that Eternal weight of glory nigh at hand. Like hope have also these, and they will bear, Doubtless, supported, whatsoever ill Unmerited thou choosest to inflict. But wilt thou choose to inflict indignity And pain on such as these?" "I do not choose," Said Saul; "I without choosing do, not what I would, but what I must. I too wear chains, Am bond of conscience, heavier chains wear I Than these light manacles that bind the hands But leave the heart free and one's will one's own. Chained am I and driven. Conscience drives me on, Both will and heart in me under the lash Cower, and I here as but a galley-slave Do what my conscience bids, joyless, and fierce From lack of joy, more miserable far, Binding, than ye are bound, with your fool's joy Of windy hope! For me, I only know That, in whatever way, this thing accursed, This craze to think that man the Christ, must be Forever. All the future of our race Hangs on it. Woman, tempted, fell, she first, In Eden, whence is all our woe, and now Women it seems are the peculiar prey Of this new trick of devilish subtlety; And, as of old, woman deceived becomes Deceiver, and through her the mischief spreads Ungovernably. So women, too—the cause In part of the disease—must in part pay The price of cure. For remedy this is, Not punishment. Ye for the general health Suffer—for your own health not less, if ye Yield wisely, and not foolishly resist. Yield wisely now, and let me hence depart Cheered to have healed a little here the hurt With which the daughter of God's people bleeds!" How little prospered this his new appeal, Saul learned, when Ruth, as not having heard even, said: "At least let me, if I indeed must leave My children double orphans so, let me And take a farewell of them with my eyes. But who will care for them when I am gone? I cannot, will not, go away from them. Nay, ye may bind me, ye may slay me, drag Me hence may ye, alive or dead, but make Me go with my own feet away from them, My children, in their innocent infancy, And leave them to pine motherless, forlorn, And perish in their innocent infancy— That is beyond your strength—I will not go— A mother may defy the Sanhedrim!" Ruth spoke dry-eyed, with holy mother's wrath, Sublime in her indignant eloquence. Saul, not unmoved, although inexorable, Said: "Woman, as thy wish is, thou shalt go Freely to see thy children. May the sight Dispose thee to a better mind! Come back Ready to say, 'For their sake, I renounce My folly, I will be true Jewish mother To them, so let me stay,'—and thou shalt stay. Ruth going, Rachel thought, 'Shall I too go With her, that I may help her bear to part To tarry, she, Ruth gone, went up to Saul, And said: "I pray thee, Saul, let Rachel go Instead of Ruth to prison. Let Ruth bide To nurse her children. I will take her place Gladly in her captivity, and be A surety for her. Young and strong am I, And I will be a firm good surety, Saul, Not fleeing and not complaining, always there,— And if, hereafter ever, it should seem Needful to have Ruth come herself to prison, Why, she will still be here, under thy hand, As now, so then, to be hence thither led. Be kind, and have me bound straightway, before Ruth comes again, that she be left no choice But to let Rachel have her wilful way, Perceiving that I have my bonds on me To go to prison with her, if not without, While much I wish to go without her—wish, And, by thy kind permission, have the power. Dost thou not think, Saul"—wherewith Rachel smiled On Saul a starlight smile, which made him feel How high she was above him in her sphere Unconsciously—"Dost thou not think that I Had she not smiled that smile, Saul might have thought, 'Infatuated child!' and thought aloud. But that bright smile of almost humor sad Showed him how sanely her true self she was, And he was baffled, sudden-smitten dumb. He could not answer her; much less could he Bid bind those slender wrists with manacles And send his sister to imprisonment! So there Saul stood before her, marble-mute. Not long—for Ruth soon now came back, more calm, She having prayed beside her sleeping babes, And trusted them again to the Most High As Father, and from the Most High received Grace to bear graciously her testimony, Even by imprisonment, and children reft, For Stephen's Lord and hers. The others marked Ruth's placid changed demeanor, and gave thanks Silent to God who thus their prayer had heard. "I go," she said to Saul, "for Jesus' sake Wherever thou mayst lead. My babes I trust, As Stephen trusted them before he suffered, Lo, I am ready—bind me—for His sake!" Never so ruefully |
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