A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem

A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem,
by W. W. Story

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Title: A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem First Century
Author: W. W. Story
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A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem
First Century
By
W.W. Story

A ROMAN LAWYER IN JERUSALEM
Marcus, abiding in Jerusalem, Greeting to Caius, his best friend in
Rome! Salve! these presents will he borne to you By Lucius, who is
wearied with this place, Sated with travel, looks upon the East As
simply hateful--blazing, barren, bleak, And longs again to find himself
in Rome, After the tumult of its streets, its trains Of slaves and clients,
and its villas cool With marble porticoes beside the sea, And friends
and banquets--more than all, its games-- This life seems blank and flat.
He pants to stand In its vast circus all alive with heads And quivering
arms and floating robes--the air Thrilled by the roaring fremitus of

men-- The sunlit awning heaving overhead, Swollen and strained
against its corded veins And flapping out its hem with loud report-- The
wild beasts roaring from the pit below-- The wilder crowd responding
from above With one long yell that sends the startled blood With thrill
and sudden flush into the cheeks-- A hundred trumpets screaming--the
dull thump Of horses galloping across the sand-- The clang of sabbards,
the sharp clash of steel-- Live swords, that whirl a circle of grey fire--
Brass helmets flashing 'neath their streaming hair-- A universal
tumult--then a hush Worse than the tumult--all eyes staining down To
the arena's pit--all lips set close-- All muscles strained--and then that
sudden yell, Habet!--That's Rome, says Lucius! so it is! That is, 'tis his
Rome--'tis not yours and mine.
And yet, great Jupiter here at my side, He stands with face aside as if he
saw The games he thus describes, and says, "That's life! Life! life! my
friend, and this is simply death! Ah! for my Rome!" I jot his very
words Just as he utters them. I hate these games, And Darius knows it,
yet he will go on, And all against my will he stirs my blood-- I suspend
my letter for a while.
A walk has calmed me--I begin again-- Letting this last page, since it is
written, stand. Lucius is going: you will see him soon In our great
Forum, there with him will walk, And hear him rail and rave against
the East. I stay behind--for these bare silences, These hills that in the
sunset melt and burn, This proud stern people, these dead seas and
lakes, These sombre cedars, this intense still sky, To me, o'erwearied
with life's din and strain, Are grateful as the solemn blank of night
After the fierce day's irritant excess; Besides, a deep absorbing interest
Detains me here, fills up my mind, and sways My inmost thoughts--has
got, as 'twere a gripe Upon my very life, as strange as new. I scarcely
know how well to speak of this, Fearing your raillery at best--at worst
Even your contempt; yet, spite of all, I speak.
First, do not deem me to have lost my head, Sunstruck, as that man
Paulus was at Rome. No, I am sane as ever, and my pulse Beats even,
with no fever in my blood. And yet I half incline to think his words,
Wild as they were, were not entirely wild. Nay, shall I dare avow it? I

half tend, Here in this place, surrounded by these men-- Despite the
jeering natural at first, And then the pressure of my life-long thought