g that his orders
were not to leave the gibbets. Upon my own word, Pilate will not deliver
up the body unless I bring you with me; I shall require you to testify
of the death. So come with me. The unwillingness of the centurion was
reduced to naught at the mention of a sum of money, and, giving orders
to his soldiers that nothing was to be done during his absence, he
walked beside Joseph's horse into Jerusalem, telling to Joseph as they
went the story of the arrest in the garden, the haling of Jesus before
the High Priest, and the sending of him on to Pilate, who, though
unwilling to confirm the sentence of death, was afraid of a riot, and
had yielded to the people's wish. The account of the scourging of Jesus
in the hall of the palace, and the bribing of the soldiers by the Jews
to make a mocking-stock of Jesus, was not finished when Joseph, who had
been listening without hearing, said: here is the door.

And while they waited for the door to be opened, and after the
doorkeeper had opened it, the centurion continued to tell his tale: how
a purple cloak was thrown upon the shoulders of Jesus, a reed put into
his hand, and a crown of thorns pressed upon his forehead. We wondered
how it was that he said nothing. We have come to see his worship, Joseph
interrupted; and the doorkeeper, who knew Joseph to be a friend of
Pilate, was embarrassed, for Pilate had sent down an order that he would
see no one again that day; but, like the centurion, he was amenable to
money, and consented to take in Joseph's name. There was no need to give
him money, he would not have dared to refuse Pilate's friend, the
centurion said as they waited.

Word came back quickly that Joseph was to be admitted, and after
begging Pilate to forgive him for intruding upon his privacy so late in
the day, he put his request into words, saying straight away: I have
come to ask for the body of Jesus, who was condemned to the cross at
noon. At these words Pilate's face became overcast, and he said that he
regretted that Joseph had come to ask him for something he could not
grant. It would have been pleasant to leave Jerusalem knowing that I
never refused you anything, Joseph, for you are the one Jew for whom I
have any respect, and, I may add, some affection. But why, Pilate,
cannot you give me Jesus' body? His body, is that what you ask for,
Joseph? It seemed to me that you had come to ask me to undo the sentence
that I pronounced to-day at noon. The body! Is