(Anthony turns; and sees upon the bench near him, on the opposite side, another woman sitting; she is fair, and even paler than the other; there are swellings under her eyes, as though she had wept a long time. She speaks without being questioned:)
Maximilla. "We were returning from Tarsus by way of the mountains, when, at a turn in the road, we saw a man under a fig tree.
"He cried from afar off: 'Stop! stop!' and rushed toward us, uttering words of abuse. The slaves ran up; he burst into a loud laugh. The horses reared; the molossi all barked.
"He stood before us. The sweat streamed from his forehead; his mantle napped in the wind.
"And calling us each by our names, he reproached us with the vanity of our work, the infamy of our bodies; and he shook his fist at the dromedaries because of the silver bells hanging below their mouths.
"His fury now filled my very entrails with fear and yet there was a strange pleasure in it which fascinated me, intoxicated me!
"First the slaves came. 'Master,' they said, 'our animals are weary.' Then the women said, 'We are frightened,' and the slaves departed. Then the children began to weep,—'We are hungry.' And as the women were not answered, they disappeared also from our view.
"He still spoke. I felt some one near me. It was my husband; but I listened only to the other. My husband crawled to me upon his knees among the stones, and cried—'Dost thou abandon me,' and I replied: 'Yes! go thy way!' that I might accompany Montanus."
Anthony. "A eunuch!"
Priscilla. "Ah! does that astound thee, vulgar soul! Yet Magdalen, Johanna, Martha and Susannah did not share the couch of the Saviour. Souls may know the delirium of embrace better than bodies. That he might keep Eustolia with impunity, the bishop Leontius mutilated himself—loving his love more than his virility. And then, it was no fault of mine. Sotas could not cure me; a spirit constrained me. It is cruel, nevertheless! But what matter? I am the last of the prophetesses; and after me the end of the world shall come."