JUDAS ISCARIOT. by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Editor's note

Judas opens in the midst of his breakdown, already beyond the betrayal itself. The repeated cry of "Lost!" echoes a mind trapped in an unbearable reality. He quickly names his sin — betraying innocent blood — the same words he uses in the Gospel of Matthew when he attempts to return the thirty pieces of silver. From the very first line, his confession is not for others; it's aimed at God and himself, and he receives no reply.

Editor's note

Here, the poem transitions from personal reflection to direct accusation. Judas confronts God with a barrage of "why" questions that resemble a courtroom cross-examination. Why wasn't he struck by lightning? Why wasn't he killed alongside Herod's slaughtered children — depicted with a heartbreaking gentleness, going into death "as if to bed"? The most profound question revolves around predestination: if God knew beforehand what Judas would become, could Judas ever have truly chosen differently? This delves into genuine theological territory, and Longfellow leaves it unresolved.

Editor's note

This section of the poem is deeply personal and emotionally charged. Judas openly acknowledges his shortcomings — he isn't warm, loving, or gentle — yet he insists he made an effort. He chose to follow Jesus in the hope that being near such goodness would change him. The "unclean spirit" that has haunted him since childhood feels like an inner demon or compulsion he's never been able to shake off. The questions "Am I to blame for this?" carry significant weight, especially since the poem has already touched on the issue of predestination. He also reveals that he's never experienced love — neither romantic love nor the love from children — and he sees this as a curse, marked on him like the mark of Cain.

Editor's note

The second stanza shifts from self-examination to sorrow. Judas reflects on the pain of losing Jesus's face and voice, particularly when Jesus declared, "one of you shall betray me," a moment that he claims "stung me into madness." The emotional conflict is intense: he admits to both loving and hating Jesus. Then, in a burst of desperate hope, he envisions reaching the afterlife *before* Jesus, where he would wait and plead for forgiveness on his knees. This plan feels wild and almost childlike—it's the closest thing to hope found in the entire poem.

Editor's note

The final stanza marks a crisis of faith in the poem. Judas reflects on Jesus's warning about the unforgivable sin — blasphemy against the Holy Spirit — and, filled with genuine fear, questions whether he has committed it. He is uncertain. The poem leaves us in the dark. His final words are a desperate plea for mercy, followed by the stage direction — "Throws himself headlong from the cliff" — which concludes everything. The "X" that appears next is Longfellow's indication of a scene break in his broader dramatic piece, but it also feels like a definitive end to a life on the page.