Barabbas by Pär Lagerkvist Page A

mine, and who had replaced their former tormentor, approached them from behind in such a way that Sahak neither saw nor heard him. But Barabbas, who was standing beside the praying man without praying himself, caught sight of him in the semi-darkness and whispered urgently to Sahak that someonewas coming. Sahak immediately rose from his knees and his prayer and began working busily with his pick. He expected the worst, all the same, and cowered down in advance as though he already felt the lash across his back. To the great amazement of them both, however, nothing happened. The overseer did in fact stop, but he asked Sahak quite kindly why he had been kneeling like that, what it meant. Sahak stammered that he had been praying to his god.
    —Which god? the man asked.
    And when Sahak told him, he nodded silently as though to say that he had thought as much. He began questioning him about the crucified “Saviour,” whom he had heard spoken of and had obviously pondered over a great deal. Was it really true that he had let himself be crucified? That he suffered a slave’s base death? And that he was nevertheless able to make people worship him afterwards as a god? Extraordinary, quite extraordinary … And why was he called the Saviour? A curious name for a god … What was meant by it?… Was he supposed to save us? Save our souls? Strange … Why should he do that?
    Sahak tried to explain as well as he could. And the man listened willingly, though there was but little clarity and coherence in the ignorant slave’s explanation. Now and then he would shake his head, but the whole time he listened as though the simple words really concerned him. At last he said that there were so many gods, there must be. And one ought to sacrifice to them all to be on the safe side.
    Sahak replied that he who had been crucified demanded no sacrifices. He demanded only that one sacrifice oneself.
    —What’s that you say? Sacrifice oneself? What do you mean?
    —Well, that one sacrifice oneself in his great smelting-furnace, Sahak said.
    —In his smelting-furnace …?
    The overseer shook his head.
    —You are a simple slave, he said after a moment, and your words match your wits. What strange fancies! Where did you pick up such foolish words?
    —From a Greek slave, Sahak answered. That is what he used to say. I don’t really know what it means.
    —No, I’m sure you don’t. Nor does anyone else. Sacrifice oneself … In his smelting-furnace … In his smelting-furnace.
    And continuing to mumble something which they could no longer catch, he disappeared into the darkness between the sparsely placed oil-lamps, like one losing his way in the bowels of the earth.
    Sahak and Barabbas puzzled greatly over this striking event in their existence. It was so unexpected that they could scarcely grasp it. How had this man been able to come down here to them? And was he really an ordinary overseer? Behaving like that! Asking about the crucified one, about the Saviour! No, they could not see how it was possible, but of course they were glad about what had happened to them.
    After this the overseer often stopped to speak toSahak as he passed by. Barabbas he never spoke to. And he got Sahak to tell him more about his Lord, about his life and his miracles, and about his strange doctrine that we should all love one another. And one day the overseer said:
    —I too have long been thinking of believing in this god. But how can I? How can I believe in anything so strange? And I who am an overseer of slaves, how can I worship a crucified slave?
    Sahak replied that his Lord had admittedly died a slave’s death but that in actual fact he was God himself. Yes, the only God. If one believes in him one can no longer believe in any other.
    —The only god! And crucified like a slave! What presumption! Do you mean that there is supposed to be only
one
god, and that people crucified him!
    —Yes, Sahak said. That is how it is.
    The man gazed at him,