While he remained, his face changing, shouts and hurrahs came
from somewhere in the direction of the river.
‘Ah––yes! The Remembrance games,’ he murmured. ‘And I here.
And Sue defiled!’
The hurrahs were repeated, drowning the faint organ notes.
Jude’s face changed more; he whispered slowly, his parched lips
scarcely moving:
‘Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it was
said, There is a man child conceived.’
(‘Hurrah!’)
‘Let that day be darkness; let not God regard it from above, neither let
the light shine upon it. Lo, let that night be solitary, let no joyful voice
come therein.’
(‘Hurrah!’)
‘Why died I not from the womb? Why did I not give up the ghost when
I came out of the belly? . . . For now should I have lain still and been
quiet. I should have slept: then had I been at rest!’
(‘Hurrah!’)
‘There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor. . . . The small and the great are there; and the servant is free from his
master. Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the
bitter in soul?’*