'I should ill perform my duty to thee, Christian, did I spare any effort to bring thee to a better mind—ill should I perform it for Rome did I not use all the means by the State entrusted to me to save her citizens from errors that, once taking root and growing up to their proper height, would soon overshadow, and by their poisonous neighborhood kill, that faith venerable through a thousand years, and of all we now inherit from our ancestors of greatest and best, the fruitful and divine spring.'
'There, Romans, spoke a Roman,' exclaimed Fronto.
As Varus ended—at a sign and a word from him, what seemed the solid wall of the room in which we were, suddenly flew up upon its screaming pulleys, and revealed another apartment black as night, save here and there where a dull torch shed just light enough to show its great extent, and set in horrid array before us, engines of every kind for tormenting criminals, each attended by its half-naked minister, ready at a moment's warning to bind the victim, and put in motion the infernal machinery. At this sight a sudden faintness overspread my limbs, and I would willingly have rushed from the hall—but it was then made impossible. And immediately the voice of the Prefect was again heard:
'Again, Christian, with Rome's usual mercy, I freely offer to thee thy life, simply on the condition, easily fulfilled by thee, for it asks but one little word from thy lips, that thou do, for thy own sake and for the sake of Rome, which thou sayest thou lovest, renounce Christ and thy faith.'
'I have answered thee once, O Prefect; dost thou think so meanly of me as to suppose that what but now I affirmed, I will now deny, and only for this show of iron toys and human demons set to play them? It is not of such stuff Aurelian's men are made, much less the soldiers of the cross. For the love I bear to Rome and Christ, and even thee, Varus, I choose to die.'
'Be assured, Christian, I will not spare thee.'
'I ask it not, Prefect—do thy worst—and the worst is but death, which is life.'
'Pangs that shall keep thee hours dying,' cried the Prefect—'thy body racked and rent—torn piecemeal one part from another—this is worse than death. Bethink thee well. Do not believe that Varus will relent.'
'That were the last thing to find faith with one who knows him as well as Macer does,' replied the Christian.
A flush of passion passed over the face of Varus. But he proceeded in the same even tone,