So had that night's great horror altered him.
As one all blindly walking in a dream
He to the table came--against it leaned--
Glared wildly round a while; then, stretching forth,
from his torn robes, a trembling hand, flung down,
As if a snake had stung him, a small purse,
That broke and scattered its white coins about,
And, with a shrill voice, cried, 'Take back the purse
'Twas not for that foul dross I did the deed--
'Twas not for that--oh, horror! not for that!
But that I did believe he was the Lord;
And that he is the Lord I still believe.
But oh, the sin!--the sin! I have betrayed
The innocent blood, and I am lost!--am lost!'
So crying, round his face his robes he threw,
And blindly rushed away; and we, aghast,
Looked round--and no one for a moment spoke.

"Seeing that face, I could but fear the end;
For death was in it, looking through his eyes.
Nor could I follow to arrest the fate
That drove him madly on with scorpion whip.

"At last the duty of the day was done,
And night came on. Forth from the gates I went,
Anxious and pained by many a dubious thought,
To seek for Judas, and to comfort him.
The sky was dark with heavy lowering clouds;
A lifeless, stifling air weighed on the world;
A dreadful silence like a nightmare lay