They pointed the finger at Judas, and some in contempt, others with hatred and fear, said: "Look, that is Judas the Traitor!" This already began to be the opprobrious title, to which he had doomed himself throughout the ages.

Thousands of years may pass, nation may supplant nation, and still the air will resound with the words, uttered with contempt and fear by good and bad alike: "Judas the Traitor!" But he listened imperturbably to what was said of him, dominated by a feeling of burning, all-subduing curiosity.

Ever since the morning when they led forth Jesus from the guardroom, after scourging Him, Judas had followed Him, strangely enough feeling neither grief nor pain nor joy--only an unconquerable desire to see and hear everything.

Though he had had no sleep the whole night, his body felt light; when he was crushed and prevented from advancing, he elbowed his way through the crowd and adroitly wormed himself into the front place; and not for a moment did his vivid quick eye remain at rest.

At the examination of Jesus before Caiaphas, in order not to lose a word, he hollowed his hand round his ear, and nodded his head in affirmation, murmuring: "Just so! Thou hearest, Jesus ?" But he was a prisoner, like a fly tied to a thread, which, buzzing, flies hither and thither, but cannot for one moment free itself from the tractable but unyielding thread.
Certain stony thoughts lay at the back of his head, and to these he was firmly bound; he knew not, as it were, what these thoughts were; he did not wish to stir them up, but he felt them continually.