The Palace of Caiaphas

What do we? Clearly something must we do,For this man worketh many miracles.

I am informed that he is a mechanic;A carpenter's son; a Galilean peasant,Keeping disreputable company.

The people say that here in BethanyHe hath raised up a certain Lazarus,Who had been dead three days.

Impossible!There is no resurrection of the dead;This Lazarus should be taken, and put to deathAs an impostor. If this GalileanWould be content to stay in Galilee,And preach in country towns, I should not heed him.But when he comes up to JerusalemRiding in triumph, as I am informed,And drives the money-changers from the Temple,That is another matter.

If we thusLet him alone, all will believe on him,And then the Romans come and take awayOur place and nation.

Ye know nothing at all.Simon Ben Camith, my great predecessor,On whom be peace! would have dealt presentlyWith such a demagogue. I shall no less.The man must die. Do ye consider notIt is expedient that one man should die,Not the whole nation perish? What is death?It differeth from sleep but in duration.We sleep and wake again; an hour or twoLater or earlier, and it matters not,And if we never wake it matters not;When we are in our graves we are at peace,Nothing can wake us or disturb us more.There is no resurrection.

PHARISEES, aside.O most faithfulDisciple of Hircanus Maccabaeus,Will nothing but complete annihilationComfort and satisfy thee?

While ye are talkingAnd plotting, and contriving how to take him,Fearing the people, and so doing naught,I, who fear not the people, have been acting;Have taken this Prophet, this young Nazarene,Who by Beelzebub the Prince of devilsCasteth out devils, and doth raise the dead,That might as well be dead, and left in peace.Annas my father-in-law hath sent him hither.I hear the guard. Behold your Galilean!

SERVANT, in the vestibule.Why art thou up so late, my pretty damsel?

Why art thou up so early, pretty man?It is not cock-crow yet, and art thou stirring?

What brings thee here?

What brings the rest of you?

Come here and warm thy hands.

DAMSEL to PETER.Art thou notOne of this man's also disciples?

I am not.

Now surely thou art also one of them;Thou art a Galilean, and thy speechBetrayeth thee.

Woman, I know him not!

CAIAPHAS to CHRISTUS, in the Hall.Who art thou? Tell us plainly of thyselfAnd of thy doctrines, and of thy disciples.

Lo, I have spoken openly to the world,I have taught ever in the Synagogue,And in the Temple, where the Jews resortIn secret have said nothing. Wherefore thenAskest thou me of this? Ask them that heard meWhat I have said to them. Behold, they knowWhat I have said!

OFFICER, striking him,What, fellow! answerest thouThe High-Priest so?

If I have spoken evil,Bear witness of the evil; but if well,Why smitest thou me?

Where are the witnesses?Let them say what they know.

We heard him say:I will destroy this Temple made with hands,And will within three days build up anotherMade without hands.

SCRIBES and PHARISEES.He is o'erwhelmed with shameAnd cannot answer!

Dost thou answer nothing?What is this thing they witness here against thee?

SCRIBES and PHARISEES.He holds his peace.

Tell us, art thou the Christ?I do adjure thee by the living God,Tell us, art thou indeed the Christ?

I am.Hereafter shall ye see the Son of ManSit on the right hand of the power of God,And come in clouds of heaven!

CAIAPHAS, rending his clothes.It is enough.He hath spoken blasphemy! What further needHave we of witnesses? Now ye have heardHis blasphemy. What think ye? Is he guilty?

SCRIBES and PHARISEES.Guilty of death!

KINSMAN OF MALCHUS to PETER in the vestibule.Surely I know thy face,Did I not see thee in the garden with him?

How couldst thou see me? I swear unto theeI do not know this man of whom ye speak!

Hark! the cock crows! That sorrowful, pale faceSeeks for me in the crowd, and looks at me,As if He would remind me of those words:Ere the cock crow thou shalt deny me thrice!

AN OFFICER, striking him with his palm.Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, thou Prophet!Who is it smote thee?

Lead him unto Pilate!