“Ha! ha!” the judge exclaimed, “thou feelest that? Come, let it suffice; obey, and thou shalt be freed.”
She seemed to take no heed of his words, but gave vent to her feelings in prayer: “I thank Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, that Thou hast made me suffer pain the first time for Thy sake. I have loved Thee in peace; I have loved Thee in comfort; I have loved Thee in joy,—and now in pain I love Thee still more. How much sweeter it is to be like Thee, stretched upon Thy Cross, even than resting upon the hard couch at the poor man’s table!”
“Thou triflest with me,” exclaimed the judge, thoroughly vexed, “and makest light of my lenity. We will try something stronger. Here, Catulus, apply a lighted torch to her sides.”[154]
The Martyr Cæcilia.
A thrill of disgust and horror ran through the assembly, which could not help sympathizing with the poor blind creature. A murmur of suppressed indignation broke out from all sides of the hall.
Cæcilia, for the first time, learnt that she was in the midst of a crowd. A crimson glow of modesty rushed into her brow, her face, and neck, just before white as marble. The angry judge checked the rising gush of feeling; and all listened in silence, as she spoke again, with warmer earnestness than before:
“O my dear Lord and Spouse! I have been ever true and faithful to Thee! Let me suffer pain and torture for Thee; but spare me confusion from human eyes. Let me come to Thee at once; not covering my face with my hands in shame when I stand before Thee.”