The Prefect commanded that he who had spoken should be brought before him. But upon the most diligent search he could not be found.
'Christian,' said Varus, 'I have other pains in store, to which what thou hast as yet suffered is but as the scratching of the lion's paw. It were better not to suffer them. They will leave no life in thee. Curse Christ—'tis but a word—and live.'
Macer bent his piercing eye upon the Prefect, but answered not.
'Curse Christ, and live.'
Macer was still silent.
'Bring in then,' cried the Prefect, 'your pincers, rakes and shells; and we will see what they may have virtue to bring forth.'
The black messengers of death hastened at the word from their dark recesses, loaded with those new instruments of torture, and stood around the miserable man.
'Now, Macer,' said Varus once more, 'acknowledge Jupiter Greatest and Best, and thou shalt live.'
Macer turned round to the people, and with his utmost voice cried out,
'There is, O Romans, but One God; and the God of Christ is he—'