Part 7 (1/2)

Simon stroked his beard and bowed.

”There was once a man who had two debtors. One owed him five hundred pence, the other fifty. Both were poor, and because of their poverty the debt of each he forgave.”

For an instant Jesus paused and seemed to muse; then, with that indulgence which was to illuminate the world, ”Tell me, Simon,” he inquired, ”which was the more grateful?”

Simon a.s.sumed an air of perplexity, and glanced cunningly from one guest to another. Presently he laughed outright.

”Why, the one who owed the most, of course.”

Reulah suppressed a giggle. By the expression of the others it was patent that to them also the jest appealed. Only Judas did not seem to have heard; he sat bolt upright, fumbling Mary with his violent eyes.

The Master made a gesture of a.s.sent, and turned to where Mary crouched.

She was staring at him with that look which the magnetized share with animals.

”You see her?”

Straightening himself, he leaned on his elbow and scrutinized his host.

”Simon, I am your guest. When I entered here there was no kiss to greet me, there was no oil for my head, no water for my feet. But this woman whom you despise has not ceased to embrace them. She has washed them with her tears, anointed them with nard, and dried them with her hair. Her sins, it may be, are many, but, Simon, they are forgiven--”

Simon, Reulah, the others, muttered querulously. To forgive sins was indeed an attribute which no one, save the Eternal, could arrogate to himself.

”-for she has loved much.”

And turning again to Mary, who still crouched at his side, he added:

”Your sins are forgiven. Go now, and in peace.”

But the fierce surprise of the Pharisees was not to be shocked into silence. Reulah showed his teeth; they were pointed and treacherous as a jackal's. Simon loudly a.s.serted disapproval and wonder too.

”I am amazed--” he began.

The Master checked him:

”The beginning of truth is amazement. Wonder, then, at what you see; for he that wonders shall reign, and he that reigns shall rest.”

The music of his voice heightened the beauty of the speech. On Mary it fell and rested as had the touch of his hand.

”Messiah, my Lord!” she cried. ”In your breast is the future, in your heart the confidence of G.o.d. Let me but tell you. There are those that live whose lives are pa.s.sed; the tombs do not hold all of those that are dead. I was dead; you brought me to life. I had no conscience; you gave me one, for I was dead,” she insisted. ”And yet,” she added, with a little moan, so human, so sincere, that it might have stirred a Caesar, let alone a Christ, ”not wholly dead. No, no, dear Lord, not wholly dead.”

Again her tears gushed forth, profuser and more abundant than before; her frail body shook with sobs, her fingers intertwined.

”Not wholly dead,” she kept repeating. ”No, no, not wholly dead.”

Jesus touched his treasurer.

”She is not herself. Lead her away; see her to her home.” And that the others might hear, and profit as well, he added, in a higher key, ”Deference to a woman is always due.”