Meanwhile Judas hears the story of what has happened. He is at once
filled with agony and remorse, for he had not expected it. He was sure
that the great power of the Master would bring him through safely at
last. In helpless agony, he rushes before the Council and makes an
ineffective protest. "No peace for me forevermore; no peace for you,"
he says. "The blood of the innocent cries aloud for justice." He is
repulsed with cold indifference. "Will it or not," says the High
Priest, "he must die, and it would be well for thee to look out for
thyself."

In fury he cries out, "If he dies, then am I a traitor. May ten
thousand devils tear me in pieces! Here, ye bloodhounds, take back
your curse!" And flinging the blood-money at the feet of the priests,
he flies from their presence, pursued by the specter of his crime.

The next scene shows us the field of blood--a wind-swept desert, with
one forlorn tree in the foreground. We see the wretched Judas before
the tree. He tears off his girdle, "a snake," he calls it, and places
it about his neck, snapping off a branch of the tree in his haste to
fasten it. "Here, accursed life, I end thee; let the most miserable of
all fruit hang upon this tree." In the action we feel that Judas is
not so much wicked as weak. He has little faith and little
imagination, and his folly of avarice hurries him into betrayal. Those
who see the play feel as the actors feel, that Christ knows the
weakness of man. He would have forgiven Judas, just as he forgave
Peter.

In the early morning Christ is brought before Pontius Pilate. The
Roman governor, admirably represented by Thomas Rendl, appears in the