One of the High Priests came up to him.
“If you set free this blasphemer, this demagogue,
who, so He says, intends to redeem the Jewish nation
from bondage, who has the devil’s eloquence
with which to influence the masses, if you let this
man go about among the people again, then you are
your Emperor’s bitterest enemy. Then we
shall ask for a governor who is as true to the Emperor
as we are!”
“You would be more imperial than Pontius Pilate!”
He threw out that sentence to them, measuring their
figures with contempt. Whenever Rome touched
any of their chartered rights they seethed with anger;
but whenever they needed power to accomplish some
purpose hostile to the people, they cringed to Rome.
They recognised no people and no Emperor; their Temple-law
was all in all to them. And they dared to advise
the Governor to be imperial! But the crowd murmured
angrily. The storm of passion was increasing
in the courtyard. A thousand voices threatening,
shouting shrilly, demanded the Nazarene’s death.
At that moment his wife sent to Pilate and reminded
him of her dream. He was inclined to set the
accused free at once. Then in the dim light
of the torches and the dawning day a dark mass appeared
above the heads of the people. It was one of
those criminals’ stakes with the cross-beam
like those erected out at Golgotha, only more massive
and imposing. They had dragged the cross here,
and when it became visible to the crowd they broke
out in heightened fury: “Crucify Him!
Crucify Him! Jesus or Pilate!”
“Jesus—or Pilate?” Was that
what they shouted?
“Jesus or Pilate?” was re-echoed from
courtyard to courtyard, from street to street.
“Do you hear, Governor?” one of the High
Priests asked him. “There is nothing else
to be done! You see, the people haven’t
been asleep to-night. They are mad!”
So saying, he seized the staff of justice, and offered
it to Pilate. He had turned pale at the sight
of the raging mob. He signed with his hand that
he wished to speak. The tumult subsided sufficiently
for his words to be heard, and he shouted hoarsely:
“I cannot find that this man has committed any
crime. But you wish to crucify Him. So
be it, but His death is on your consciences!”
Purposely following the Jewish custom, he washed his
hands in a bowl, so that those who could not hear
him might see; then holding them up, all dripping
wet, before the people, he exclaimed: “My
hands are clean from His blood. I accept no
responsibility.” He seized the staff,
broke it in two with his hands, and threw the pieces
at Jesus’s feet.
Then there arose a storm of jubilation; “Hail
to thee, Pilate! Hail to the Governor of the
great Emperor! Hail to the great Governor of
the Emperor!”
The High Priests humbly bowed before him, and the
guards seized the condemned man.
