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Page 5
Procla.
Do you think indeed
There is no soul?
Pilate.
I know there is a soul,
Since there's a body and the body moves
And feels and breathes, though 'tis such reeking dung
When something's gone, the something that is soul.
But that dies first, gasps into nothingness,
And after that the body dies and fats
The earth it came of. Nay, if the soul lived
As part of the great breath we call the air
And so a part of life and every life,
What life were that to us to call it ours?
We die, my Procla, and to die is death.
Procla.
Those Jewish wondrous writings which love
And you call glorious phantasies allow
Another sense to death - which one should come
To show men plainly, so that none should die.
Oh husband, if this Jesus were the man
Or god who was to show it!
Pilate.
Aye, indeed
That were a parlous loss! But they can hope
And dream without a teacher, and what more
Could any teach them than to hope and dream?
And now, dear Procla, leave me, I have work,
Letters and long reports to write for Rome.
Go to your tapestries - a fitter use,
And fairer, for your wits than these sad thoughts
Which, saddening us, may make us sooner die,
But cannot soften death. Go dear.
Procla.
I go.
But as for tapestries, the needle flies
And thought flies quicker. Sorrow will not die
Upon the needle's point Good bye awhile.
Pilate.
Good bye, be merry, and forget this talk. (Exit Procla.)
Next |
A Woman Sold
Bartimaeus
Judas
Pilate
The Walk To Emmaus
A Bride
A March Night
A Messenger
A Mother's Cry
A Wedding
Afterwards
Dead Amy
Deserted
Dreaming
Glad Waves
Going
How The Brook Sings
If
In The Storm
In The Sunshine
Looking Downstairs
Mary Lost
Never Again
Night Whispers
On The Lake
On The Shore
Our Lily
Passing Away
Perjured
Safe
Shadow
Sunlight
The Blush Rose
The Gift
The Heiress' Wooer
The Hidden Wound
The Lake
The Land Of Happy Dreams
The Old Year Out
The Red Star On The Hill
The River
The Setting Star
The Shadow Of A Cloud
To And Fro
To One Of Many
Too faithful
Two Maidens |
