hearts of the people. Nowhere does the noble figure of Mayr appear to
better advantage than in this scene, where, after a brutal
chastisement, scarcely lessened in the presentation on the stage, the
Roman soldiers place a cattail flag in his hand and salute him as a
king.

Pilate then brings forth an abandoned wreck of humanity, old Barabbas,
the murderer. As Christ stands before them, blood-stained and crowned
with thorns, half in hope and half in irony, Pilate invites them to
choose. "Behold the man," he said, "a wise teacher whom ye have long
honored, guilty of no evil deed. Jesus or Barabbas, which will ye
choose?"

All the more fiercely the mob cries, "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

[Illustration: "Ecce Homo!"]

Pilate is puzzled. "I cannot understand these people," he said. "But
a few days ago, ye followed this man with rejoicing through the streets
of Jerusalem." The High Priest threatens to appeal to Rome. Pilate
fears to face such an appeal. He has little confidence in the favor or
the justice of the Caesar whom he serves. At last he consents to what
he calls "a great wrong in order to avert a greater evil." He calls
for water, and washes his hands in ostentatious innocence. Finally, as
he signs the verdict of condemnation in wrath and disgust, he breaks
his staff of office, and flings the fragments upon the stairs, at the
feet of the priests.

Next we behold in the foreground of the stage, John and Mary the mother
of Jesus, and with them a little group of followers. A tumult is