Seán Walsh: A scene from Pilate Under Pressure
PILATE’S WIFE DEEP IN THOUGHT…
ZARA, HER MAID-IN-WAITING, ENTERS.
ZARA
My Lady?… So forlorn?…
WOMAN
Ah, Zara… I was a long way away… What now?
ZARA:
They have started out for Calvary, my lady.
WOMAN:
Oh-hh…
ZARA:
So weak is the Jew, he fell under the weight of the crossbeam.
WOMAN:
They are making him carry it?
ZARA:
No more. The Centurion singled out a foreigner in the crowd, forced him to the task.
WOMAN:
Foreigner?
ZARA:
He is darker than the Jews.
WOMAN:
Black?
ZARA:
Indeed, my lady. A visitor, perhaps, passing through Jerusalem –
WOMAN:
And now he goes to Calvary, shouldering a crossbeam –
ZARA:
Albeit reluctantly.
WOMAN:
Strange. Strangers…
ZARA:
My lady?
WOMAN:
Is it not strange, Zara, that the only ones who helped – tried to help – the Galilean are strangers to these shores? My husband – at least at first. The Centurion. I, in my own way. You, after a fashion. And now a black man, from afar…
ZARA:
I fail to follow, my lady?
WOMAN:
Each with one thing in common: we are, all of us, non-believers, pagans…
Seán Walsh – A scene from PILATE UNDER PRESSURE, my drama set against the backdrop of the first Good Friday… from a Roman perspective.
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