Reading Master and Margarita - 26

Chapter 26

The Burial

This chapter is extremely interesting. Narration goes on like in a detective novel, like in a crime thriller; curiosity of readers gets heightened every moment. 

The chapter can be divided into following parts:

Aphranius sets the stage for Judas’ murder;

Pilate’s condition before and after Judas’ murder;

Actual process of the killing of Judas;

Explanation about Judas’ murder;

Burial of Yeshua;

Pilate’s meeting with Levyi Mathew.

The chapter begins with description of Pilate’s uneasiness. He is restless, he is scared…

“… perhaps it was the twilight that caused such a sharp change in the procurator's

Appearance; he aged, grew hunched as if before one's eyes, and, besides that, became alarmed.

Once he looked around and gave a start for some reason, casting an eye on the empty chair with the cloak thrown over its back. The night of the feast was approaching, the evening shadows played their game, and the tired procurator probably imagined that someone was sitting in the empty chair. Yielding to his faint-heartedness and ruffling the cloak, the procurator let it drop and began rushing about the balcony, now rubbing his hands, now rushing to the table and seizing the cup, now stopping and staring senselessly at the mosaics of the floor, as if trying to read something written there ... It was the second time in the same day that anguish came over him.

Rubbing his temple, where only a dull, slightly aching reminder of the morning's infernal pain lingered, the procurator strained to understand what the reason for his soul's torments was. And he quickly understood it, but attempted to deceive himself. It was clear to him that that afternoon he had lost something irretrievably, and that he now wanted to make up for the loss by some petty, worthless and, above all, belated actions. The deceiving of himself consisted in the procurator's trying to convince himself that these actions, now, this evening, were no less important than the morning's sentence. But in this the procurator succeeded very poorly.”

Time and again Bulgakov is giving hints that Pilate is aware that he has committed a grave mistake by executing Yeshua and that he is trying to make up for it by ordering Judas’ execution…

He tried to sleep, and in his dream he saw that he was walking with Yeshua along the moonlit way. He was trying to convince Yeshua that he was not a coward…

“…the present procurator of Judea and former tribune of a legion, had been no coward that time, in the Valley of the Virgins, when the fierce German had almost torn Rat-slayer the Giant to pieces. But, good heavens, philosopher! How can you, with your intelligence, allow yourself to think that, for the sake of a man who has committed a crime against Caesar, the procurator of Judea would ruin his career?

'Yes, yes...' Pilate moaned and sobbed in his sleep. Of course he would. In the morning he still would not, but now, at night, after weighing everything, he would agree to ruin it. He would do everything to save the decidedly innocent, mad dreamer and healer from execution!

`Now we shall always be together,' said the ragged wandering philosopher in his dream, who for some unknown reason had crossed paths with the equestrian of the golden spear. `Where there's one of us, straight away there will be the other! Whenever I am remembered, you will at once be remembered, too! I, the foundling, the son of unknown parents, and you, the son of an astrologer-king and a miller's daughter, the beautiful Pila.'

………….

Let’s see what Aphranius does after he leaves Pilate:

Bulgakov gives a vivid description of Aphranius’s actions. Like a running commentary, no dialogue, no extra words…

“Just then the procurator's guest (Aphranius - ACR) was in the midst of a great bustle.

After leaving the upper terrace of the garden before the balcony, he went down the stairs to the next terrace of the garden, turned right and came to the barracks which stood on the palace grounds. In these barracks the two centuries that had come with the procurator for the feast in Yershalaim were quartered, as was the procurator's secret guard, which was under the command of this very guest. The guest did not spend much time in the barracks, no more than ten minutes, but at the end of these ten minutes, three carts drove out of the barracks yard loaded with entrenching tools and a barrel of water. The carts were escorted by fifteen mounted men in grey cloaks. Under their escort the carts left the palace grounds by the rear gate, turned west, drove through gates in the city wall, and followed a path first to the Bethlehem road, then down this road to the north, came to the intersection by the Hebron gate, and then moved down the Jaffa road, along which the procession had gone during the day with the men condemned to death. By that

time it was already dark, and the moon appeared on the horizon.

Soon after the departure of the carts with their escorting detachment, the procurator's guest also left the palace grounds on horseback, having changed into a dark, worn chiton. The guest went not out of the city but into it. Sometime later he could be seen approaching the Antonia Fortress, located to the north and in the vicinity of the great temple.

The guest did not spend much time in the fortress either, and then his tracks turned up in the Lower City, in its crooked and tangled streets. Here the guest now came riding a mule.

Knowing the city well, the guest easily found the street he wanted. It was called Greek Street, because there were several Greek shops on it, among them one that sold carpets. Precisely by this shop, the guest stopped his mule, dismounted, and tied it to the ring by the gate. The shop was closed by then. The guest walked through the little gate beside the entrance to the shop and found himself in a small square courtyard surrounded on three sides by sheds. Turning a corner inside the yard, the guest came to the stone terrace of a house all twined with ivy and looked around.

Both the little house and the sheds were dark, no lamps were lit yet. The guest called softly:

'Niza!'

At this call a door creaked, and in the evening twilight a young woman without a veil appeared on the terrace. She leaned over the railing, peering anxiously, wishing to know who had come.

Recognizing the visitor, she smiled amiably to him, nodded her head, waved her hand.

'Are you alone?' Aphranius asked softly in Greek.

'Yes,' the woman on the terrace whispered, `my husband left for Caesarea in the morning.'

Here the woman looked back at the door and added in a whisper: 'But the serving-woman is at home.' Here she made a gesture meaning 'Come in'.

Aphranius looked around and went up the stone steps. After which both he and the woman disappeared into the house. With this woman Aphranius spent very little time, certainly no more than five minutes. After which he left the house and the terrace, pulled the hood down lower on his eyes, and went out to the street. Just then the lamps were being lit in the houses, the pre-festive tumult was still considerable, and Aphranius on his mule lost himself in the stream of riders and passers-by. His subsequent route is not known to anyone.”

Niza changes her clothes, puts on a veil and comes out in the crowded street. She starts off.

Just at that time, from another lane in the Lower City, a twisting lane that ran down from ledge to ledge to one of the city pools, from the gates of an unsightly house with a blank wall looking on to the lane and windows on the courtyard, came a young man with a neatly trimmed beard, wearing a white kefia falling to his shoulders, a new pale blue festive tallith with tassels at the bottom, and creaking new sandals. The handsome, aquiline-nosed young fellow, all dressed up for the great feast, walked briskly, getting ahead of passers-by hurrying home for the solemn meal, and watched as one window after another lit up. The young man took the street leading past the bazaar to the palace of the high priest Kaifa, located at the foot of the temple hill.

Sometime later he could be seen entering the gates of Kaifa's courtyard. And a bit later still, leaving the same courtyard.

After visiting the palace, where the lamps and torches already blazed, and where the festive bustle had already begun, the young man started walking still more briskly, still more joyfully, hastening back to the Lower City. At the corner where the street flowed into the market-place, amidst the seething and tumult, he was overtaken by a slight woman, walking with a dancer's gait, in a black veil that came down over her eyes. As she overtook the handsome young man, this woman raised her veil for a moment, cast a glance in the young man's direction, yet not only did

not slow her pace, but quickened it, as if trying to escape from the one she had overtaken.

The young man not only noticed this woman, no, he also recognized her, and, having recognized her, gave a start, halted, looking perplexedly into her back, and at once set out after her. Almost knocking over some passer-by carrying a jug, the young man caught up with the woman, and, breathing heavily with agitation, called out to her:

'Niza!'

Niza was a married woman whom Judas loved. They used to meet without the knowledge of her husband.

Niza asks Judas to meet her at the olive estate:

'Go to the olive estate,' Niza whispered, pulling the veil over her eyes and turning away from a man who was coming through the gateway with a bucket, 'to Gethsemane, beyond the Kedron, understand?'

'Yes, yes, yes...'

`I'll go ahead,' Niza continued, `but don't follow on my heels. Keep separate from me. I'll go ahead ... When you cross the stream ... you know where the grotto is?'

'I know, I know...'

'Go up past the olive press and turn to the grotto. I'll be there. Only don't you dare come after me at once, be patient, wait here,' and with these words Niza walked out the gateway as though she had never spoken with Judas.”

And what will Judas do now:

 “Judas stood thinking up some lie, but in his agitation was unable to think through or prepare anything properly, and slowly walked out the gateway.

Now he changed his route, he was no longer heading towards the Lower City, but turned back to Kaifa's palace. The feast had already entered the city. In the windows around Judas, not only were lights shining, but hymns of praise were heard. On the pavement, belated passers-by urged their donkeys on, whipping them up, shouting at them. Judas's legs carried him by themselves, and he did not notice how the terrible, mossy Antonia Towers flew past him, he did not hear the roar of trumpets in the fortress, did not pay attention to the mounted Roman patrol and its torch that flooded his path with an alarming light.

Turning after he passed the tower, Judas saw that in the terrible height above the temple two gigantic five-branched candlesticks blazed. But even these Judas made out vaguely. It seemed to him that ten lamps of an unprecedented size lit up over Yershalaim, competing with the light of the single lamp that was rising ever higher over Yershalaim - the moon.

Now Judas could not be bothered with anything, he headed for the Gethsemane gate, he wanted to leave the city quickly. At times it seemed to him that before him, among the backs and faces of passers-by, the dancing little figure flashed, leading him after her. But this was an illusion.

Judas realized that Niza was significantly ahead of him. Judas rushed past the money-changing shops and finally got to the Gethsemane gate. There, burning with impatience, he was still forced to wait. Camels were coming into the city, and after them rode a Syrian military patrol, which Judas cursed mentally ...

But all things come to an end. The impatient Judas was already beyond the city wall. To the left of him Judas saw a small cemetery, next to it several striped pilgrims' tents. Crossing the dusty road flooded with moonlight, Judas headed for the stream of the Kedron with the intention of wading across it. The water babbled quietly under Judas's feet. Jumping from stone to stone, he finally came out on the Gethsemane bank opposite and saw with great joy that here the road below the gardens was empty. The half-ruined gates of the olive estate could already be seen not far away.

After the stuffy city, Judas was struck by the stupefying smell of the spring night. From the garden a wave of myrtle and acacia from the Gethsemane glades poured over the fence.

No one was guarding the gateway, there was no one in it, and a few minutes later Judas was already running under the mysterious shade of the enormous, spreading olive trees. The road went uphill. Judas ascended, breathing heavily, at times emerging from the darkness on to patterned carpets of moonlight, which reminded him of the carpets he had seen in the shop of Niza's jealous husband.

A short time later there flashed at Judas's left hand, in a clearing, an olive press with a heavy stone wheel and a pile of barrels. There was no one in the garden, work had ended at sunset, and now over Judas choirs of nightingales pealed and trilled.

Judas's goal was near. He knew that on his right in the darkness he would presently begin to hear the soft whisper of water falling in the grotto. And so it happened, he heard it. It was getting cooler. Then he slowed his pace and called softly:

'Niza!'

But instead of Niza, a stocky male figure, detaching itself from a thick olive trunk, leaped out on the road, and something gleamed in its hand and at once went out. With a weak cry, Judas rushed back, but a second man barred his way.

The first man, in front of him, asked Judas:

'How much did you just get? Speak, if you want to save your life!' Hope flared up in Judas's heart, and he cried out desperately:

Thirty tetradrachmas!' Thirty tetradrachmas! I have it all with me! Here's the money! Take it, but grant me my life!'

The man in front instantly snatched the purse from Judas's hands. And at the same instant a knife flew up behind Judas's back and struck the lover under the shoulder-blade. Judas was flung forward and thrust out his hands with clawed fingers into the air. The front man caught Judas on his knife and buried it up to the hilt in Judas's heart.

'Ni ... za ...'Judas said, not in his own high and clear young voice, but in a low and reproachful one, and uttered not another sound. His body struck the earth so hard that it hummed.

Then a third figure appeared on the road. This third one wore a cloak with a hood.

`Don't linger,' he ordered. The killers quickly wrapped the purse together with a note handed to them by the third man in a piece of hide and criss-crossed it with twine. The second put the bundle into his bosom, and then the two killers plunged off the roadsides and the darkness between the olive trees ate them. The third squatted down by the murdered man and looked at his face. In the darkness it appeared white as chalk to the gazing man and somehow spiritually beautiful.

A few seconds later there was not a living man on the road. The lifeless body lay with outstretched arms. The left foot was in a spot of moonlight, so that each strap of the sandal could be seen distinctly. The whole garden of Gethsemane was just then pealing with the song of nightingales.

Where the two who had stabbed Judas went, no one knows, but the route of the third man in the hood is known. Leaving the road, he headed into the thick of the olive trees, making his way south. He climbed over the garden fence far from the main gate, in the southern corner, where the upper stones of the masonry had fallen out. Soon he was on the bank of the Kedron. Then he entered the water and for some time made his way in it, until he saw ahead the silhouettes of two horses and a man beside them. The horses were also standing in the stream. The water flowed, washing their hoofs. The horse-handler mounted one of the horses, the man in the hood jumped on to the other, and the two slowly walked in the stream, and one could hear the pebbles crunching under the horses' hoofs. Then the riders left the water, came out on the Yershalaim bank, and rode slowly under the city wall. Here the horse-handler separated himself, galloped ahead, and disappeared from view, while the man in the hood stopped his horse, dismounted on the deserted road, removed his cloak, turned it inside out, took from under the cloak a flat helmet without plumes and put it on. Now it was a man in a military chlamys with a short sword at his hip who jumped on to the horse.

He touched the reins and the fiery cavalry horse set off at a trot, jolting its rider. It was not a long way - the rider was approaching the southern gate of Yershalaim.

Under the arch of the gateway the restless flame of torches danced and leaped. The soldiers on guard from the second century of the Lightning legion sat on stone benches playing dice. Seeing a military man ride in, the soldiers jumped up, the man waved his hand to them and rode on into the city.

The city was flooded with festive lights. The flames of lamps played in all the windows, and from everywhere, merging into one dissonant chorus, came hymns of praise. Occasionally glancing into windows that looked on to the street, the rider could see people at tables set with roast kid and cups of wine amidst dishes of bitter herbs. Whistling some quiet song, the rider made his way at an unhurried trot through the deserted streets of the Lower City, heading for the Antonia Tower,

glancing occasionally at the five-branched candlesticks, such as the world had never seen, blazing above the temple, or at the moon that hung still higher than the five-branched candlesticks.

Pilate is eagerly waiting for the report on Judas’s execution. When Aphranius informs him that he could not save Judas and that he has been killed, Pilate wants to know about the money that was given to Judas; and also whether that money was returned back to Kaif. The explanation given was as follows:

Pilate is informed that Judas was paid 30 tetradakhms, and explains where he might have been killed:

“ It's impossible to put a knife into a man secretly in the street. That means he was lured to a basement somewhere. But the service has already searched for him in the Lower City and undoubtedly would have found him. He is not in the city, I can guarantee that. If he was killed far from the city, this packet of money could not have been dropped off so quickly. He was killed near the city. They managed to lure him out of the city.'

'I cannot conceive how that could have been done!'

'Yes, Procurator, that is the most difficult question in the whole affair, and I don't even know if I will succeed in resolving it.'

'It is indeed mysterious! A believer, on the eve of the feast, goes out of the city for some unknown reason, leaving the Passover meal, and perishes there. Who could have lured him, and how? Could it have been done by a woman?' the procurator asked on a sudden inspiration.

Aphranius replied calmly and weightily:

'By no means, Procurator. That possibility is utterly excluded. One must reason logically. Who was interested in Judas's death? Some wandering dreamers, some circle in which, first of all, there weren't any women. To marry, Procurator, one needs money. To bring a person into the world, one needs the same. But to put a knife into a man with the help of a woman, one needs very big money, and no vagabond has got it. There was no woman in this affair, Procurator. Moreover, I will

say that such an interpretation of the murder can only throw us off the track, hinder the investigation, and confuse me.'

'I see that you are perfectly right, Aphranius,' said Pilate, 'and I merely allowed myself to express a supposition.'

'Alas, it is erroneous, Procurator.'

`But what is it, then, what is it?' exclaimed the procurator, peering into Aphranius's face with greedy curiosity.

'I suppose it's money again.'

'An excellent thought! But who could have offered him money at night, outside the city, and for what?'

'Oh, no, Procurator, it's not that. I have only one supposition, and if it is wrong, I may not find any other explanations.' Aphranius leaned closer to the procurator and finished in a whisper: 'Judas wanted to hide his money in a secluded place known only to himself.'

'A very subtle explanation. That, apparently, is how things were. Now I understand you: he was lured out not by others, but by his own purpose. Yes, yes, that's so.'

……………

'Ah, yes! I forgot to ask,' the procurator rubbed his forehead, how did they manage to foist the money on Kaifa?'

`You see, Procurator ... that is not especially complicated. The avengers came from behind Kaifa's palace, where the lane is higher than the yard. They threw the packet over the fence.'

"With a note?'

'Yes, exactly as you suspected, Procurator.'

……..

 “To my question whether anyone had been paid money in Kaifa's palace, I was told categorically that there had been nothing of the sort.'

'Ah, yes? Well, so, if no one was paid, no one was paid. It will be that much harder to find the killers.'

'Absolutely right, Procurator.'

`It suddenly occurs to me, Aphranius: might he not have killed himself?"

'Oh, no, Procurator,' Aphranius replied, even leaning back in his chair from astonishment, 'excuse me, but that is entirely unlikely!'

'Ah, everything is likely in this city. I'm ready to bet that in a very short time rumours of it will spread all over the city.'

Here Aphranius again darted his look at the procurator, thought for a moment, and replied:

'That may be, Procurator.'

Aphranius understood what reason for Judas death should be propagated.

And thus Bulgakov brings back the readers to the information provided in the Gospels that Judas committed suicide.

Then Aphranius gives report about the burial of those executed during the day. He tells that Levi Mathew had taken Yeshua’s body into a cave and did not want to part with it. He was convinced that Yeshua would be given a proper cremation and thus the process was completed.

Pilate meets Levi Matthew and discloses as follows:

'What's wrong with you?' Pilate asked him.

'Nothing,' answered Matthew Levi, and he made a movement as if he were swallowing something. His skinny, bare, grey neck swelled out and then slackened again.

'What's wrong, answer me,' Pilate repeated.

'I'm tired,' Levi answered and looked sullenly at the floor.

'Sit down,' said Pilate, pointing to the armchair.

Levi looked at the procurator mistrustfully, moved towards the armchair, gave a timorous sidelong glance at the gilded armrests, and sat down not in the chair but beside it on the floor.

'Explain to me, why did you not sit in the chair?' asked Pilate.

'I'm dirty, I'd soil it,' said Levi, looking at the ground.

'You'll presently be given something to eat.'

'I don't want to eat,' answered Levi.

'Why lie?' Pilate asked quietly. 'You haven't eaten for the whole day, and maybe even longer.

Very well, don't eat. I've summoned you so that you could show me the knife you had with you.'

`The soldiers took it from me when they brought me here,' Levi replied and added sullenly:

'You must give it back to me, I have to return it to its owner, I stole it.'

'What for?'

To cut the ropes,' answered Levi.

'Mark!' cried the procurator, and the centurion stepped in under the columns. 'Give me his knife.'

The centurion took a dirty bread knife from one of the two cases on his belt, handed it to the procurator, and withdrew.

'Who did you take the knife from?'

'From the bakery by the Hebron gate, just as you enter the city, on the left.'

Pilate looked at the broad blade, for some reason tried the sharpness of the edge with his finger, and said:

'Concerning the knife you needn't worry, the knife will be returned to the shop. But now I want a second thing - show me the charta you carry with you, on which Yeshua's words are written down.'

Levi looked at Pilate with hatred and smiled such an inimical smile that his face became completely ugly.

'You want to take away the last thing?' he asked.

'I didn't say "give me",' answered Pilate, 'I said "show me".'

Levi fumbled in his bosom and produced a parchment scroll. Pilate took it, unrolled it, spread it out between the lights, and, squinting, began to study the barely legible ink marks. It was difficult to understand these crabbed lines, and Pilate kept wincing and leaning right to the parchment, running his finger over the lines. He did manage to make out that the writing represented an incoherent chain of certain utterances, certain dates, household records, and poetic fragments.

Some of it Pilate could read: '...there is no death ... yesterday we ate sweet spring baccuroth ...'

Grimacing with the effort, Pilate squinted as he read: '... we shall see the pure river of the water of life ... mankind shall look at the sun through transparent crystal...' Here Pilate gave a start. In the last lines of the parchment he made out the words: '... greater vice ... cowardice...'

Pilate rolled up the parchment and with an abrupt movement handed it to Levi.

Take it,' he said and, after a pause, added: `You're a bookish man, I see, and there's no need for you to go around alone, in beggar's clothing, without shelter. I have a big library in Caesarea, I am very rich and want to take you to work for me. You will sort out and look after the papyri, you will be fed and clothed.'

Levi stood up and replied:

'No, I don't want to.'

'Why?' the procurator asked, his face darkening. `Am I disagreeable to you? ... Are you afraid of me?'

The same bad smile distorted Levi's face, and he said:

'No, because you'll be afraid of me. It won't be very easy for you to look me in the face now that you've killed him.'

'Quiet,' replied Pilate. Take some money.'

Levi shook his head negatively, and the procurator went on:

'I know you consider yourself a disciple of Yeshua, but I can tell you that you learned nothing of what he taught you. For, if you had, you would certainly take something from me. Bear in mind that before he died he said he did not blame anyone.' Pilate raised a finger significantly, Pilate's face was twitching. 'And he himself would surely have taken something. You are cruel, and he was not cruel. Where will you go?'

Levi suddenly came up to the table, leaned both hands on it, and, gazing at the procurator with burning eyes, whispered to him:

'Know, Hegemon, that I am going to kill a man in Yershalaim. I wanted to tell you that, so you'd know there will be more blood.'

'I, too, know there will be more of it,' replied Pilate, `you haven't surprised me with your words. You want, of course, to kill me?'

`You I won't manage to kill,' replied Levi, baring his teeth and smiling, 'I'm not such a foolish man as to count on that. But I'll kill Judas of Kiriath, I'll devote the rest of my life to it.'

Here pleasure showed in the procurator's eyes, and beckoning Matthew Levi to come closer, he said:

'You won't manage to do it, don't trouble yourself. Judas has already been killed this night.'

Levi sprang away from the table, looking wildly around, and cried out:

'Who did it?'

`Don't be jealous,' Pilate answered, his teeth bared, and rubbed his hands, 'I'm afraid he had other admirers besides you.'

'Who did it?' Levi repeated in a whisper.

Pilate answered him:

'I did it.'

Levi opened his mouth and stared at the procurator, who said quietly:

`It is, of course, not much to have done, but all the same I did it.'

And he added: 'Well, and now will you take something?'

Levi considered, relented, and finally said:

'Have them give me a piece of clean parchment.'

An hour went by. Levi was not in the palace. Now the silence of the dawn was broken only by the quiet noise of the sentries' footsteps in the garden. The moon was quickly losing its colour, one could see at the other edge of the sky the whitish dot of the morning star. The lamps had gone out long, long ago. The procurator lay on the couch. Putting his hand under his cheek, he slept and breathed soundlessly. Beside him slept Banga.

Thus was the dawn of the fifteenth day of Nisan met by the fifth procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilate.

…………

Please pay attention to the geography of the place where Judas and Aphranius were seen moving and we shall get the key to our puzzle:

Judas passed by the Antonia Tower, glancing occasionally at the five-branched candlesticks, such as the world had never seen, blazing above the temple, or at the moon that hung still higher than the five-branched candlesticks.

Antonia Tower with five branched light is nothing but the Kremlin Towers of Moscow. That means that the action was taking place not in Yerushalem but in Moscow. The temple tower of Yerushalem has seven candles and not five.

It means that Yeshua was not real Yeshua, but an ordinary thinker, symbolizing intelligentsia in the early thirties of XX Century, and Judas was any judas, treacher who would convey false news about honest intelligentsia.

Who is Pilate? Bulgakov describes him as son of astrologer-king (korol’-Karl- Karl Marx?) and a miller's daughter, the beautiful Pila (Pila is ‘saw' – symbolizing a worker). Thus Pilate is a combination of communism and working class - dictator of the proletariat. So, we can say that Kaif is representative of communist ideology. Hence the tussle here is between the intelligentsia, common man; Dictatorship of the proletariat and the communist ideology who don’t like each other. Caesar symbolizes Stalin who is above everyone.

So the episode about Yeshua – Pontius Pilate represents the struggle between these three and nothing else.