[To the Centurion.]
We waste the day! Example make of these!
We’ll test if others will not take their place!
The Priest.
And be accurséd! Let the Church’s curse
Fall on who shame our city, Christian heart
Of Christian-empired Rome.
An Old Slave Woman.
[Wailing.]
Oh, my little one! My daughter’s child ... Son to mine old age ... Oh, take him not away! [She tries to make her way to the Young Slave.] So good a lad and dutiful ... my Constantine! See, now, masters ... named for that great emperor who set the cross above our city gates ... and now you take him from me! Constantine ... would I might suffer in your stead!