Pilate's Wife: The Gospel According to the Eyewitness

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Fifth day before the Nones of Martius. Second hour of the night. [Saturday, March 3, c. 7:00 p.m]

I was in and out of sleep the entire night. My dreams were of vague yet dreadful things, most of which I cannot recall. I remember, however, wandering once again among sunless, fetid alleys, then unexpectedly arriving at a vast prospect of a dismal underground city. Crowds as immense as entire armies ran through its streets. I awakened from this vision to the drumming of a heavy sea that had come up during the night. Later, well before dawn, I was disturbed by the conversations of Pilate's people as they prepared to leave -- their voices did not seem to rise up from the rooms beneath me, but from within the earth.

Much of the day was spent preparing my household for our sudden departure. At the second hour L. V--'s secretary was in to tell me that the Senator expects to travel with our party. I said that of course we are honored and grateful to have Senator L. V-- in our company.

Shortly I learned that L. V-- had gone to inspect Caesar's villa at Maiumas and most likely would not return until the end of the day.

While in the bath I was told that the first freighter of this Pesah has arrived. When I got out to the pavilion, this ship had already been towed into the harbor and tied up along the south side of the mole. It was so enormous that three or four such ships could take up the entire south harbor. Perhaps a hundred Jews were still camped on the deck. The pilot was fortunate to get his ship in when he did. Shortly after the wind came up strongly from the northwest. I fear the drought will end just as we set out tomorrow.

An hour before sunset Atimetus came to me. I had sent him to the harbor to arrange the leasing of my warehouses. "Lady, this Syrian has pounded me with his vulgar demands all afternoon. In my despair I threatened to bring you to him. Alas, he challenged me. Alas, I can do nothing except take you to him."

Regarding this as no small matter, I went. Not wishing to distract my people from their labors, I took only Phoebus and Callisthenes, and went on foot.

A procession of vendors went across the bridge to the mole. The mole itself was like a market; one could not take a step without colliding with someone selling dried figs, drinks, or roast meat. Pilgrims wearing prayer boxes on their heads and arms leaned over the railing, shouting at the vendors and tossing them coins, whereupon their purchases were thrown back up to them.

We got through the crowd and turned north toward the lighthouse. L. V--'s galley was half of a stade farther on. Past the noise of the crowd, one could hear the thump of the waves against the mole. The sea was growing heavier.

We entered the disputed warehouse. Other than the smell of oil spilled by the previous tenant, the vault might have been newly constructed. The Syrian who had 'pounded' Atimetus was the agent of the wholesaler from Tyre with whom I had dealt. He quickly understood the contract when I explained its terms. We made no changes.

While we were inside the warehouse, I observed a man walk by along the mole, proceeding toward L. V--'s galley; he hesitated for a moment and glanced in on us. I believed him to be one of L. V--'s legbreakers. Shortly after another man went past in the same direction. Perhaps he was a sailor, or one of L. V--'s soldiers.

Our business done, I told the boys: "Let's walk down to the lighthouse and watch the sunset there. We will miss this when we are in the mountains."

L. V--'s legbreaker and several soldiers stood on the deck of the galley. I wore my scarf around my face as I went past, assuming that with my modest party I would not be recognized. L. V--'s people watched us pass without remark.

We went to the room on the second level of the lighthouse. It has windows on all sides. The prospect inland was dulled with blowing sand. But the coast had been swept clean by the wind. The aqueduct proceeding north from the city was a line of gold in the setting sun.

I observed L. V--'s galley for somewhat more than a waterclock. During that time four men in soldier's tunics went one by one to the temporary marketplace on the south mole. Five such men, some if not all different than those who had left, returned with parcels of food.

It is evident that these soldiers are staying aboard L. V--'s galley. Presumably there are more that I did not see. I can establish no need for L. V-- to keep them confined on that ship, except to conceal them from us.

This revelation gives some credence to Pilate's grim caution.

I told the boys to wait. Alone I climbed the stairs to the observation gallery. There I was greeted by the wind moaning through the windows. The air rushed in with such violence that it was difficult to stay at the window. It was so cold that it drew my breath.

Yet I stayed there a time, watching the sun become liquid as it enters the sea. There is a peculiar comfort in standing alone on a high place.

"Marcia."

I heard the voice clearly. I thought: Marcia is dead. You will not find her here.

I was not certain that memory was not the source of that voice until he came beside me. Then I was so certain that L. V-- was there that I did not turn to him.

"I am no longer called Marcia," I told him.

He did not apologize. "I've been to Maiumas today. The view from the summer rooms is captivating. If not for our journey I would have stayed to see the sun rise from the mountains. Does Pilate use it much?"

I did not know what he was seeking. "From time to time. In fact it is not a summer villa. It becomes too hot. It is best in the Spring.

He looked at the sea in silence for a time. "I've been around to look at those Jews on their ship. Their devotion to their god is fascinating. A single god with a name they are forbidden to speak, who inhabits a single empty room, visited by a single priest on one day of the year. And yet they come to plead with him, some of them from a thousand miles away, year after year, season after season." He paused again. "Caesar believes that if you give the Jews their god, you can rule them with a magistrate and a dozen watchmen. To deprive them of their god would require our four legions in Syria, and you'd have to flatten every city and village in Judea to see it finished. And by then the Parthians would be camped in the streets of Antioch. Of course Sejanus argues that as long as we indulge the Jews in the peculiarities of their cult, we will never command their allegiance."

Perhaps this was a warning about antagonizing the Jews. Perhaps it was some crude effort to invite an impolitic or even treasonous response. I said, "And with whom do you agree? Caesar or Sejanus?"

He laughed as though I had intended to entertain him. "You had a sharp tongue even as a girl. I remember that."

The single word "remember" ran like cold blood within me. I knew without looking at him that he was measuring my response. I said nothing.

So he went on: "I found your candor an attractive quality. Unlike most girls, you had no fear of men. You had an... avidness."

I do not know where my words came from. I spoke as though I were inhabiting a nightmare: "I was instructed not to be shy."

"Yes. Your mother was eager for a connection."

"My stepmother. Metilia was never my mother. My mother died a year after my father divorced her."

"Yes. Of course Metilia was your stepmother. She used you. She had no intention of offering a dowry for you."

Now I laughed, although without humor. "You didn't come to that house for a bride."

The images came: Lotus blossoms in the pool, the metal chime of the fountain, scent of roses and laurel. His elegant toga, sun-dark face, and the slight limp. To me he looked as a hero might. We were left alone almost at once.

"No. I did not come as a suitor."

"Then you cannot have been disappointed."

There was strange quality to his silence. "As it happened, I made a subsequent inquiry regarding you."

This so startled me that I turned to him.

"I'm sure you recall that after our first meeting, the death of Augustus intervened. I was required to go with Tiberius. When I returned in September, Metilia did not trouble herself to conceal that she had no intention of seeing you married. I assume she never told you that I came back. Or perhaps you don't remember."

I did not answer. For a moment I could hear only the wind. I seized the hope that this was finished.

"I don't know why Metilia turned me away. I assume to save the dowry." He paused. "But then I've always considered the entire business with your father and Metilia a mystery."

At this I walked away from him, going to the window which faced north. The aqueduct had become a pale thread in the dusk.

He followed me.

"You came to my father's house and left," I told him. "I never saw you again. Perhaps, as you say, you spoke once more with Metilia. That ended it. Why have you raised this now?"

"I know something about the suicides."

I no longer contained my anger: "You know what you have heard at Baiae dinner parties! You know nothing! You are a fool to come to me and pretend otherwise. You would be a far greater fool if you truly believed that you know something."

He waited a moment: "And what do you know?"

I looked into his pale eyes. "Fate is the engineer of our lives. Yours, mine, and theirs. That is all I need to know."

"I have never believed in Fate," he said. "Only in decisions and their consequences."

"How lovely. We do not get much sitting-room Epicurus out here. It might surprise you to learn that I too believe in decisions and their consequences. My father and his cursed wife decided to end their lives, and as a consequence they cut their throats and are dead. There is no mystery to it. They are gone. Vanished. Forever silent."

He stared out at the dark shoreline. The wind fell away, leaving a strange whistling. He said, "The dead always speak. They never cease. One hears them every day, every hour."

"If you must listen to them, then I am sorry for you."

He did not look at me again. After some time he said, "You must excuse me. We have a long journey tomorrow." So he left me.

I stayed and looked out until the pale thread of the aqueduct vanished. I will never again leap into that darkness. Yet there was not a moment that I stood there that I did not think of doing it.

I returned here. Despite the late hour and our departure in the morning, I have made this account.

This I also remember: We were brought iced wine in silver cups. Two-handled cups. He holds his in one hand, with indifferent grace. There are gold flecks in his pale green eyes. My wine has a bitter taste, which I credit to the dryness of my mouth. Or perhaps the ice.

Perhaps Metilia drugged the wine. But whatever occurred after, it can have meaning only for L. V--. In his Epicurean arrogance he is ignorant of this truth: The infant newly thrust from his mother's womb remembers every instant of the life he will live. Our lives, however, are not fashioned from that knowledge. Our lives are the result of what we choose to forget.

Who were these travelers?

Theoretically, every Jew in the Mediterranean world was obligated to appear at the Jerusalem Temple for each of the major annual pilgrimage festivals: Pesah (Passover), Shavuoth (Weeks or Pentecost), and Succoh (Tabernacles). In practice, perhaps 1 in 10 Jews worldwide appeared at any given festival, with Pesah being the most popular. Even this level of participation yielded enormous numbers, with an estimated 125,000 pilgrims from within and without Palestine descending on Jerusalem for the typical Pesah. The largest freighters afloat -- up to 180 feet in length -- were required to ferry pilgrims into major ports such as Caesarea.

We can't be certain if the name Pilate's wife has evidently disavowed (psychologically, not legally) was derived, as was customary, from her father's family name, or nomen (most likely Marcius). Or Marcia might have been a cognomen, a personal surname following the nomen, in which case her name tells us little about her lineage. See more on Roman names.

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