‘Must I?’ he pleaded. ‘They have done no harm.’
‘On to the rack with him,’ said Tigellinus, furiously. ‘He trifles with us and wastes our time.’
‘No, no,’ moaned the coward; ‘I will tell you. There is Linus the bishop, and Cletus the presbyter, and Prisca, and Aquila.’
‘Who are they?’
They are Jewish tent-makers, and they live on the Aventine; but they left Rome recently. And Amplias, Claudia, Stachys, Apelles, of the household of Narcissus; Persis, a freedwoman of Pomponia Græcina; Asyncritus, Patrobas, slaves of Flavius Clemens; and Nereus and his daughter Junia, manumitted by the centurion Pudens.’
‘We want more names still.’
‘There are Marcus, Felicitas, Phœbe, Helpis, in the house of Aulus Plautius; and there are Tryphæna, Tryphosa, Stephanus, Crescens, Thallus, Herodion, and Artemas, of Cæsar’s household.’
‘None but slaves and freedmen?’
‘There is Aristobulus, the auctioneer, who has a house in the Subura. He and all his family are Christians. And Andronicus, and Junius—they are merchants who import goats’ hair from Cilicia, and are relations of Paulus of Tarsus, whom they call an Apostle.’
‘Come, this is to the purpose,’ said Tigellinus, rubbing his hands. ‘Are there any soldiers?’