Voices in Time

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“It is not from death I request thee to deliver me, but from this terror of torment’s eternity. Thy brother’s body I only pierced unadvisedly; his soul meant I no harm to at all. My body and soul both shalt thou cast away quite if thou dost at this moment what thou mayest. Spare me, spare me I beseech thee; by thy own soul’s salvation I desire thee—seek not my soul’s utter perdition. In destroying me, thou destroyest thyself and me.”

Eagerly I replied, “Though I know God will never have mercy on me except I have mercy on thee, yet of thee no mercy would I have. Revenge in our tragedies is continually raised from hell—of hell do I esteem better than heaven, if it afford me revenge. There is no heaven but revenge. I tell thee, I would not have undertook so much toil to gain heaven, as I have done in pursuing thee for revenge. Divine revenge, of which (as of the joys above) there is no fullness or satiety. Look how my feet are blistered with following thee from place to place. I have riven my throat with overstraining it to curse thee. I have ground my teeth to powder with grating and grinding them together for anger when any hath named thee. My tongue with vain threats is blown and waxen too big for my mouth; my eyes have broken their strings with staring and looking ghastly as I stood devising how to frame or set my countenance when I met thee. I have near spent my strength in imaginary acting on stone walls what I determined to execute on thee. Entreat not, a miracle may not reprieve thee, villain—thus march I with my blade into thy bowels.

“Stay, stay,” exclaimed Esdras, “and hear me but one word further. Though neither for God nor man thou carest, but placest thy whole felicity in murder, yet of thy felicity learn how to make a greater felicity. Respite me a little from thy sword’s point and set me about some execrable enterprise that may subvert the whole state of Christendom and make all men’s ears tinglethat hear of it. Command me to cut all my kindred’s throats, to burn men, women, and children in their beds in millions by firing their Cities at midnight. Be it Pope, Emperor, or Turk that displeaseth thee, he shall not breathe on the earth. For thy sake will I swear and forswear, renounce my baptism and all interest I have in any other sacrament. Only let me live, how miserable soever—be it in a dungeon amongst toads, serpents, and adders, or set up to the neck in dung. No pains I will refuse, however prolonged, to have a little respite to purify my spirit. Oh, hear me, hear me, and thou canst not be hardened against me.”

At this his importunity, I paused a little, not as retiring from my wreakful resolution but going back to gather more forces of vengeance. With myself I devised how to plague him double in his base mind. My thoughts traveled in quest of some notable new Italianism, whose murderous platform might not only extend on his body, but his soul also. The groundwork of it was this: that whereas he had promised for my sake to swear and forswear and commit Julian-like violence on the highest seals of religion, if he would but this far satisfy me, he should be dismissed from my fury. First and foremost he should renounce God and His laws, and utterly disclaim the whole title or interest he had in any covenant of salvation. Next he should curse Him to His face, as Job was willed by his wife, and write an absolute firm obligation of his soul to the devil, without condition or exception. Thirdly and lastly (having done this), he should pray to God fervently never to have mercy upon him, or pardon him.

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