CHAPTER XXVI

THE WINE HOUSE

Now, meanwhile, Ophidion had been faring to and fro in the streets of Jerusalem, hating, listening, whispering, suggesting, setting into the great world currents of evil thought and all manner of misdeeds. Some of those currents are moving about until this day.

And he came, in his wanderings, to a wine-house which was in the lower city, a vile resort kept by a woman called Cupiditas. And Ophidion being desirous (for a time) of great forgetfulness from his own sins, entereth the shop.

There he seeth an idle companion, whom he knoweth well of late, Compotor, as well as Microtes and Aletis and Antipetros, and likewise other sons of mere tumult and harm. And there were also twain philosophers who sate in a corner apart.

The sons of tumult cried aloud, when they beheld Ophidion, “Hail to thee, Sarcogenes! Sarcogenes, all hail to thee!"-for Ophidion had changed his name (since he had become, for purposes of his own, a follower of Jesus) from "Ophidion" to "Sarcogenes," which is to say "One That is Born of the Flesh." "For," said he, "I would not be called 'a lesser serpent' any longer, the followers of Jesus objecting strangely to that appellation, and, as for the flesh, the flesh is good enough." In his heart, he thought that neither could any other man believe that there is harm at all in the flesh.

So he standeth within the entrance for a time (resembling, to one who looked not deeply, a great bright angel) gazing the company over to see if it were just to his liking, and what he might do with it. Then the sons of tumult cry again, "Hail to thee, Sarcogenes!" The man answered majestically, "Hail!"

And they were glad to be companioned by him, for they knew of his authority with Pontius Pilate, and, thereby, the Lord of All this World, even Cæsar.

So they made a great room for him at the table, and he, when he had gone and whispered to the keeper of the house, even Cupiditas, came and sate down with the sons of tumult.

They drank and drank again. And still again they drank.

Then said Sarcogenes, picking up a goblet wherein were many dead flies: "I will bet any of you that in this cup there be either odd or even flies." Some said unto him, "Odd."

He answered, "Even."

So they laid out their moneys, and counted the flies. And behold, the flies were even. And Sarcogenes took the money.

But then the great one said, "Yonder, on another table, is another cup, wherein also are flies. Let us once more bet, but, this time, twice the money."

They bet, and the flies were counted, and the money was that of Sarcogenes.

Then said the sons of tumult, "Let us bet again, that we may at length beat thee. Yonder are still more flies. And see, we will wager ten times more than that which we did wager last, and we will finally beat thee. And all shall carefully count the flies, that there shall be no mistake."

Sarcogenes said, "Odd."

The flies were counted, and they were even. But just as the sons of tumult would have taken up the moneys, behold there came yet another fly, which dropped down upon the pile of flies, and, dying, was counted to his own gain by Sarcogenes.

Then uprose Microtes, shouting: "Thou hast cheated! See! Thou art Beelzebub, the King of Flies! And the flies do obey thee, and die for thee!"

There came in the face of Sarcogenes a look both of amazement and horror. He beat the small one out of the wine-house, and, returning, sate down angrily at the table.

Then entered yet another man, a certain servitor of Sarcogenes, saying unto him: "Thou didst come before me hither."

"Yea," cried Sarcogenes, "and I will beat thee hence."

And so he did, with a dagger, giving him deep and grievous wounds.

And Sarcogenes went and stood in a corner apart, where a deep shadow was, and the other companions of the drinking counted flies for long in silence, or sate merely whispering.

But one of the twain philosophers saith (that he might break silence) "I hear that this man, Jesus, is being crucified."

"Yea," saith the other, "even now he hangeth upon the cross. He saith that this is necessary to save men from sin."

"Sin!" cried the first philosopher. "Now what is sin? There is no such thing at all as sin, say I. It is only an invention of the Jews, sin. The Greeks know more than the Jews, and they know there is no such thing as sin. Besides, I can show this all to be true by philosophy and by all the learning of all the schools-Athens, Antioch, Alexandria-"

But a doctor who had just entered the wine-shop, brake in upon

him: "Thou sayest truly there is no such thing as sin. I have never dissected a human body (as some have done in Alexandria) but I have dissected apes and cattle, and in none of these (either in any of the organs or in the chinks between those organs) was there ever any sin."

Said the first philosopher, "Thou talkest as a fool. Thoughtest thou to find sin in the shape of a thing to be caught between the fingers and pinched? Is sin a gall-stone? Is it a solid concretion of the stomach? Is it any secernment at all, or excretion, or any kind of flesh or piece of bone? Pah! There is no sin-in that thou speakest truly-but thou shouldest know metaphysic to be able to prove it. What sayest thou, Compotor? Is there such a thing as sin?"

"Yes," said the man so spoken unto, "I say that there is sin. Let be a moment, and I will-hic-enlighten thee. Now, if I do a wrong to thee, that is an offense, a damage, unto thee. Yet it is also a crime unto the state, and a sin unto God. So I say there is such a thing as sin.-But what-hic-doth it matter? We can easily get rid of sin. A sacrifice or so; a white sheep, a good fat calf-all is well. And then we are free-hic-to sin again. Thou spakest even now of Jesus—”

"What sayest thou, Sarcogenes," said then the first philosopher, "is there any such thing as sin? Need any man a savior? Need he, in especial, Jesus-"

"No," cried the tall one in a voice of thunder. "Fools! Sin ? Follow your own natures! Nature cannot mislead you. Your appetites will teach you rightness in all things. What is natural cannot be sinful, nay nor in anywise hurtful. Ye are all fools that ye do even discuss such matters."

But a fool in another corner saith unto them, "I had once a brother who followed his natural appetites, committing thereby both adultery and murder. Said he unto Pilate at his trial, 'Pardon: it was nature.' Said Pilate, 'It is also nature that I execute thee.' He is gone-a cross-why doth it darken?"

And there entered the wine-house one that cursed and gnashed his teeth, but, when he had seen Sarcogenes, became high respectful. Sarcogenes led him a little way apart. The two drank deeply at a table together.

"Thou art late," said then Sarcogenes, so that none other in the room might hear.

"I did try to follow thee for long," the man saith, "but ever and

again thou seemedst to dissolve into nothing. Even now came I hither by accident-to drown mine anger and my doubt."

"Thine anger-thy doubt!"

"Anger for that a certain Simon of Cyrene, for whose sake I had learned the whereabouts of a certain enemy of his, would not, when that I had brought him tidings back, consent to listen. Said he, 'I love that man.' What thinkest thou, that any man should love his enemy? And doubt-for that this teacher-Jesus- Why dost thou look so strangely? Pray, be still-or look some other way from me. I cannot endure thee when thou lookest so."

Then whispered the lean and dark Sarcogenes in the man's very ear, saying unto him: "Be not deceived, Ardelio. This Jesus is solely a blasphemer (I know him well) and a raiser of sedition. He was tried for blasphemy (was he not?) condemned for sedition, and is now being executed therefor."

"His doctrines?"

"Folly."

"His miracles?"

"Magic."

"But thou thyself dost follow Jesus."

"Be not deceived: I do merely delude his disciples.-Hast thou had no pleasures since I saw thee last?"

"Yea. I have worshipped at Corinth and at Rhodes, and have had much pleasures of the flesh."

"It is well. Thou hast a true religion.-But Jesus-'Twas I that agged on that traitor, Judas-and for a reason." Here he filled the mind of Ardelio, the foolish busy-body, up, with terrible lies as against Jesus, the which he bade him spread with all industry both in the city of Jerusalem and likewise in all the other places of the world whatsoever, in which he might chance to be. And many of these lies are extant still.

And he gave him moneys, and called for much unwatered wine. And the twain drank in deep silence, while one of the nearby philosophers saith to another: "I tell thee Jesus was mad. He was an impostor withal. He expected that His followers would come and release Him from the cross (the which they will not do) although He surely did prophesy that He must die on the tree, then be buried, and so, after three days in the tomb, come up from the dead."

Said the second philosopher, "As for this Jesus, thou knowest I am flat against Him, but behold! I think Him a just man and one from on high."

"But what say the Greeks?"

"The Greeks? I will tell thee what the Greeks say. There was one Plato. Perchance thou knowest Plato. Hast heard of Platoand Socrates? Well, Socrates saith, 'We must of necessity wait until some one from Him who careth for us shall come and instruct us how we ought to behave toward God and toward man.' Hear now Plato: 'We cannot know of ourselves what petition will be pleasing to God and what worship we should pay to Him, but it is necessary that a law-giver should be sent from Heaven to instruct us. Oh, how greatly do I long to see that man! That law-giver must be more than man, that He may teach us the things man cannot know by his own nature.'”

"Then why believest thou not on Jesus, if thou holdest with these passages!"

"A sign!" he cried. "A sign from heaven. Ere I do believe, I must have some certain sign."

"A sign from heaven! Well said indeed!" cried Sarcogenes across the room. "I, too, would have had a sign from heaven. Had I had that a certain sign and straight from heaven-I too would, of a verity, have believed."

"There shall be no sign from heaven," said the other philosopher. "It is true," confirmed Sarcogenes. "For Jesus is an impostor. Therefore hath He not any sign from heaven.-But tell me (ye who will) is it indeed very dark? It is not the ninth hour-for I have listened to the slave at the near-by water clock. Even thy nose, O Ardelio, I scarce can perceive."

"It hath, for a great while, been dark," said the slattern, Cupiditas, keeper of the house, "but ye have not noticed, any of you. Drink deeper and forget the darkness."

Deeper they drank. And some of the sons of tumult vomited. One of the dull philosophers began, "A man there was that was seized on by the soldiers and made to bear Christ's cross.

"That is true," confirmed Ardelio, "and much offended was that

man.

I know him, a certain Simon, a priest that hath lost his genealogy. He was much offended."

"Nay," said the second philosopher, "offended was he not. I too did see him, and his face shone as he had seen in spirit a hallowed sign from heaven. I could not quite tell, but methought I heard the suffering Nazarene speak unto him-just one soft, sweet word. I could not quite tell, although I was close."

"There may have been magic in the word," suggested Ardelio. "In any case, when I did look upon Simon, methought he was greatly offended and would not have borne the cross for the world. A giant