Le Juif errant. English

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER LI. THE CALVARY.

  This was the vision of Herodias: On the summit of a high, steep, rockymountain, there stands a cross. The sun is sinking, even as when theJewess herself, worn out with fatigue, entered the ruins of St. John'sAbbey. The great figure on the cross--which looks down from thisCalvary, on the mountain, and on the vast, dreary plain beyond--standsout white and pale against the dark, blue clouds, which stretch acrossthe heavens, and assume a violent tint towards the horizon. There, wherethe setting sun has left a long track of lurid light, almost of thehue of blood--as far as the eye can reach, no vegetation appears on thesurface of the gloomy desert, covered with sand and stones, like theancient bed of some dried-up ocean. A silence as of death broods overthis desolate tract. Sometimes, gigantic black vultures, with redunfeathered necks, luminous yellow eyes, stooping from their loftyflight in the midst of these solitudes, come to make their bloody feaston the prey they have carried off from less uncultivated regions.

  How, then, did this Calvary, this place of prayer, come to be erected sofar from the abodes of men? This Calvary was prepared at a great cost bya repentant sinner. He had done much harm to his fellow-creatures, and,in the hope of obtaining pardon for his crimes, he had climbed thismountain on his knees, and become a hermit, and lived there till hisdeath, at the foot of this cross, only sheltered by a roof of thatch,now long since swept away by the wind. The sun is still sinking. Thesky becomes darker. The luminous lines on the horizon grow fainter andfainter, like heated bars of iron that gradually grow cool. Suddenly,on the eastern side of the Calvary, is heard the noise of some fallingstones, which, loosened from the side of the mountain, roll downrebounding to its base. These stones have been loosened by the foot ofa traveller, who, after traversing the plain below, has, during the lasthour, been climbing the steep ascent. He is not yet visible--but onehears the echo of his tread--slow, steady, and firm. At length, hereaches the top of the mountain, and his tall figure stands out againstthe stormy sky.

  The traveller is pale as the great figure on the cross. On his broadforehead a black line extends from one temple to the other. It isthe cobbler of Jerusalem. The poor artisan, who hardened by misery,injustice and oppression, without pity for the suffering of the DivineBeing who bore the cross, repulsed him from his dwelling, and bade him:"Go ON! GO ON! GO ON!" And, from that day, the avenging Deity has in histurn said to the artisan of Jerusalem: "GO ON! GO ON! GO ON!"

  And he has gone on, without end or rest. Nor did the divine vengeancestop there. From time to time death has followed the steps of thewanderer, and innumerable graves have been even as mile-stones on hisfatal path. And if ever he found periods of repose in the midst ofhis infinite grief, it was when the hand of the Lord led him into deepsolitudes, like that where he now dragged his steps along. In passingover that dreary plain, or climbing to that rude Calvary, he at leastheard no more the funeral knell, which always, always sounded behind himin every inhabited region.

  All day long, even at this hour, plunged in the black abyss of histhoughts, following the fatal track--going whither he was guided by theinvisible hand, with head bowed on his breast, and eyes fixed uponthe ground, the wanderer had passed over the plain, and ascended themountain, without once looking at the sky--without even perceiving theCalvary--without seeing the image upon the cross. He thought of thelast descendants of his race. He felt, by the sinking of his heart,that great perils continued to threaten him. And in the bitterness ofa despair, wild and deep as the ocean, the cobbler of Jerusalem seatedhimself at the foot of the cross. At this moment a farewell ray of thesetting sun, piercing the dark mass of clouds, threw a refection uponthe Calvary, vivid as a conflagration's glare. The Jew rested hisforehead upon his hand. His long hair, shaken by the evening breeze,fell over his pale face--when sweeping it back from his brow, he startedwith surprise--he, who had long ceased to wonder at anything. With eagerglance he contemplated the long lock of hair that he held between hisfingers. That hair, until now black as night, had become gray. He also,like unto Herodias, was growing older.

  His progress towards old age, stopped for eighteen hundred years, hadresumed its course. Like the Wandering Jewess, he might henceforth hopefor the rest of the grave. Throwing himself on his knees, he stretchedhis hands towards heaven, to ask for the explanation of the mysterywhich filled him with hope. Then, for the first time, his eyes rested onthe Crucified One, looking down upon the Calvary, even as the WanderingJewess had fixed her gaze on the granite eyelids of the Blessed Martyr.

  The Saviour, his head bowed under the weight of his crown of thorns,seemed from the cross to view with pity, and pardon the artisan, who forso many centuries had felt his curse--and who, kneeling, with his bodythrown backward in an attitude of fear and supplication, now liftedtowards the crucifix his imploring hands.

  "Oh, Messiah!" cried the Jew, "the avenging arm of heaven brings me backto the foot of this heavy cross, which thou didst bear, when, stoppingat the door of my poor dwelling, thou wert repulsed with mercilessharshness, and I said unto thee: 'Go on! go on!'--After my long life ofwanderings, I am again before this cross, and my hair begins to whiten.Oh Lord! in thy divine mercy, hast thou at length pardoned me? Have Ireached the term of my endless march? Will thy celestial clemency grantme at length the repose of the sepulchre, which, until now, alas! hasever fled before me?--Oh! if thy mercy should descend upon me, let itfall likewise upon that woman, whose woes are equal to mine own! Protectalso the last descendants of my race! What will be their fate? Already,Lord, one of them--the only one that misfortune had perverted--hasperished from the face of the earth. Is it for this that my hair growsgray? Will my crime only be expiated when there no longer remains inthis world one member of our accursed race? Or does this proof of thypowerful goodness, Lord, which restores me to the condition of humanity,serve also as a sign of the pardon and happiness of my family? Willthey at length triumph over the perils which beset them? Will they,accomplishing the good which their ancestor designed for his fellowcreatures, merit forgiveness both for themselves and me? Or will they,inexorably condemned as the accursed scions of an accursed stock,expiate the original stain of my detested crime?

  "Oh, tell me--tell me, gracious Lord! shall I be forgiven with them, orwill they be punished with me?"

  The twilight gave place to a dark and stormy night, yet the Jewcontinued to pray, kneeling at the foot of the cross.