A short officer, strutting like a cock, and two underlings wield scourges while a youth raises a birch high above his head. A kneeling assistant pulls on the rope that holds Christ to the column.
The painter’s oddly proportioned figure of Christ is more pathetic than noble, with its rivulets of blood coursing down Jesus’ almost naked body. Jesus’ head is bent in resignation.
Perhaps the man at the right wearing a tiara and looking at the scene with conspicuous determination is Pilate. The artist, who could never resist strange headgear, has provided the high priest’s companion with a fantastic red Mongolian hat.