Pontius Pilate

PILATE.Wholly incomprehensible to me,Vainglorious, obstinate, and given upTo unintelligible old traditions,And proud, and self-conceited are these Jews!Not long ago, I marched the legionsDown from Caesarea to their winter-quartersHere in Jerusalem, with the effigiesOf Caesar on their ensigns, and a tumultArose among these Jews, because their LawForbids the making of all images!They threw themselves upon the ground with wildExpostulations, bared their necks, and criedThat they would sooner die than have their LawInfringed in any manner; as if NumaWere not as great as Moses, and the LawsOf the Twelve Tables as their Pentateuch!

And then, again, when I desired to spanTheir valley with an aqueduct, and bringA rushing river in to wash the cityAnd its inhabitants,--they all rebelledAs if they had been herds of unwashed swine!Thousands and thousands of them got togetherAnd raised so great a clamor round my doors,That, fearing violent outbreak, I desisted,And left them to their wallowing in the mire.

And now here comes the reverend SanhedrimOf lawyers, priests, and Scribes and Pharisees,Like old and toothless mastiffs, that can barkBut cannot bite, howling their accusationsAgainst a mild enthusiast, who hath preachedI know not what new doctrine, being KingOf some vague kingdom in the other world,That hath no more to do with Rome and CaesarThan I have with the patriarch Abraham!Finding this man to be a GalileanI sent him straight to Herod, and I hopeThat is the last of it; but if it be not,I still have power to pardon and release him,As is the custom at the Passover,And so accommodate the matter smoothly,Seeming to yield to them, yet saving him,A prudent and sagacious policyFor Roman Governors in the Provinces.

Incomprehensible, fanatic people!Ye have a God, who seemeth like yourselvesIncomprehensible, dwelling apart,Majestic, cloud-encompassed, clothed in darkness!One whom ye fear, but love not; yet ye haveNo Goddesses to soften your stern lives,And make you tender unto human weakness,While we of Rome have everywhere around usOur amiable divinities, that hauntThe woodlands, and the waters, and frequentOur households, with their sweet and gracious presence!I will go in, and, while these Jews are wrangling,Read my Ovidius on the Art of Love.