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bites, puff-eyed, unrecognisable.
Forcing open his eyelids, Ha-Notsri looked down. His usually clear eyes
were now dim and glazed.
'Ha-Notsri!' said the executioner.
Ha-Notsri moved his swollen lips and answered in a hoarse croak:
'What do you want? Why have you come? '
'Drink! ' said the executioner and a water-soaked sponge was raised to
Yeshua's lips on the point of a lance. Joy lit up his eyes, he put his mouth
to the sponge and greedily sucked its moisture. From the next gibbet came
the voice of Dismas :
'It's unjust! He's as much a crook as me! '
Dismas strained ineffectually, his arms being lashed to the cross-bar
in three places. He arched his stomach, clawed the end of the crossbeam with
his nails and tried to turn his eyes, full of envy and hatred, towards
Yeshua's cross.
'Silence on the second gibbet! '
Dismas was silent. Yeshua turned aside from the sponge. He tried to
make his voice sound kind and persuasive, but failed and could only croak
huskily :
'Give him a drink too.'
It was growing darker. The cloud now filled half the sky as it
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