THis resolute Conclusion, oblig’d the Roman Officer to break off a Conversation, whereby he plainly saw, there was no cause to hope he could shake the Constancy of Didymus; and much cause to fear, that Didymus’s Constancy and his Discourses, would stagger many of the Heathen Auditors. And therefore withdrawing himself, much discontented at the unsuccesfulness of his perswasions, he thought it would be impious, to make any intercession, for Persons he judg’d invincibly obstinate, or divert the fatal Proceedings of the Judge; who having by this time made an end of those other Affairs, whose dispatch Theodora’s respite was not to outlast; call’d for the innocent Criminals, and, with a stern Countenance and Voice, demanded, whether they were yet willing, to appease the Deities they had provok’d; and by burning Incense to them, endeavour to attone for the Affronts they had offer’d them. Adding, that there was now no more time left for deliberating, but that they must immediately renounce thir Impious Religion, or suffer Death for it.
But this could not shake the illustrious Prisoners Constancy; which prompted them to make, with as much haste as the President could desire, an answer, that consisted but of a short and resolute declaration; That they had liv’d Worshippers of Christ; and had a thousand times rather die, than cease to be, or to profess themselves such: And that for the false Gods, the President would have them adore; they had rather be their Victims, than their Suppliants; and fall Sacrifices to them, than offer them any.
This bold profession, so incens’d the person ‘twas made to, that he immediately gave order, that the Prisoners should be led away to the place of Execution; and that the Ministers of Justice, (as he misnamed his Cruelty) should, without delay, go on with the preparations that were making, to destroy them. But while these Officers were solicitous to obey those Commands, Theodora took the opportunity, to tell the generous Companion of her Sufferings: It was fit, I confess, when we discours’d with Infidels, to recommend the Objects of our hopes, by giving them the glorious Titles of Crowns, and Triumphs; since being to defend the reasonableness of our Constancy, by the greatness of the rewards we expect for it; ‘twas very proper to represent those Coelestial Recompences, under the notion of such Goods, as those we argued with, acknowledged to be the most noble and desirable. But, (continues she) when we speak of Heaven among our selves, give me leave to tell you, that I think we should look upon it under a very differing notion; and make a wide disparity betwixt the Christians Paradise, and the Poets Elysium. The Triumphs we should most desire in Heaven, should be, not over our outward Enemies, or personal Sufferings, but over Sin and Ignorance, and the frailties of our Natures, and the imperfections of our Vertues. And the positive Blessings that should most endear Heaven to us, should be, not so much that we shall there be Crown’d by Christ, as that we shall live with him, and follow that spotless Lamb where ever he goes; That our gratitude it self shall be perfect, as well as the Blessings that engage it shall be compleat; and That we shall have an eternal Day, to contemplate that Sun of Righteousness, without having that glorious Object veil’d by any interposing Cloud, much less hid from us by the vicissitudes of day and night. In short, I think, Devotion should in our future State, aspire to other things, than those that may be the Objects of meer Ambition.
And now, generous Didymus, (adds Theodora) since we are entering upon the last scene of our mortal Life; let us, (I beseech you) summon together and rouse up all the Graces and Vertues we have receiv’d from Heaven, and fervently implore both an encrease of them, and a supply of any that our present Circumstances require; That we may go off the Stage Piously, as well as Handsomly, and both act and suffer as becomes Christian Martyrs. Let not any Crueltys or Affronts of our insulting Persecutors, be able to discompose us; but let our evenness of mind convince them, that they can as little disorder us in our way to Heaven, as hinder us to get to our Journey’s end. But let not our undauntedness appear the effect of sullenness, or fierceness, or of meer resolvedness; but let it be so calm and charitable, that we may not be suspected to be the Martyrs, rather of our Glory, or our Courage, than of our Religion. Let it not be thought that we hate life, or despise it, but only that we think it a cheap purchase for Heaven, and for the honour of owning and following a Redeemer, who, to merit it for us, took the Cross in his way thither.
Admonitions so becoming a dying Christian, receiv’d such an entertainment, as the Piety of it, and the Veneration he had for the giver, might justly challenge, from so devout and elevated a Soul as that of Didymus: whose resolute answers to the Roman Officer, together with his behaviour, as well since as before he made them, leaving his Enemies no more expectation that he could be prevail’d with, either to alter his own resolution, or tempt his Mistress to change hers; he was appointed to be first led away to Execution: that the sight of his Blood might terrifie Theodora, and fright her into a care to preserve her own. This resolution of his Enemies, did not at all lessen his; but having easily obtain’d leave, from the Roman Officers, that could not but admire his Gallantry, and somewhat compassionate his condition, to say a few words to Theodora: He went to that excellent Person; and approaching her with a far greater respect, than he would shew to any Power, that could but preserve that life, which the Romans were going to take from him: He told her: Your Piety, Madam, and your Example, making me presume, that upon such an occasion as this, I may with your consent, part with a life, which ever since I had the Fate to see you, has been so much at your disposal; I am now going without reluctancy to perform that last duty, whereto Religion calls me. But thinking my self oblig’d, to begin with the most difficult part of my Martyrdom, before I bid farewel to the World, my enclination and respect, brings me to take my last leave of the fairest and excellentest Person in it. If, Madam, (so he proceeds) I were in a condition of paying you any further dutys, my humble request to you would be, to have the honour of your further Commands. But since my condition leaves me not a capacity of serving you for the future, one of my last Petitions to you must be, to be pleas’d to look upon my past Services, as extremely short of the desires of a Person, that lov’d you with as much ardency, as your Charms themselves could kindle; and yet with so pure a flame, that had it been visible, even Theodora’s Vertue, could not have disapprov’d it. But Madam, (continues he) although to rescue you from the condition you are in, there is no danger so desperate that I would not joyfully attempt, if I were again at liberty, and tho’ it were possible I could survive you; yet I am too much concern’d for the nobler part of Theodora, to wish, she would blemish so spotless a life to save it. Only, Madam, give me leave to be so kind and Charitable to the World, as to wish that Providence may find some expedient, to preserve for you, both your Crown and your Head; and that you may arrive so late at Heaven, as to have time to bless the Earth with a long and Exemplary Life; and may you lead it with as much Tranquillity, as you will with Vertue; and without knowing so much as that trouble, which, I fear, your generous compassion may now and then offer to give you, upon the remembrance of the faithfulest of your Servants.
These words, and the sad occasion of them, having drawn some Tears into Theodora’s fair Eyes; though the cause of them made them very obliging to Didymus, yet his concern for her quiet, presently engag’d him to help her to suppress them, by making haste to tell her, that ‘twas pity the serenity of her mind and looks, which Vertue had still kept calm, and even Persecutions had not been able to disorder, should be discompos’d by any other thing. And Madam, (continues he) though, being confident that your charity will make it unnecessary for me to beg your Prayers, I was going to make it my petition to you, that you would vouchsafe now and then to cast a thought on the memory of a Person, to whose mind you were constantly present: Yet, I must now retract that humble request, unless you are pleas’d to grant it me with this qualification; That the honour you do me, may not be disquieting to you. For how great a blessing soever it is, to enjoy a place in your thoughts; yet an Idea must represent quite another man than Didymus, that should, especially on its own score, become troublesome to Theodora; whose compassion is as well needless, as undesired; since ‘tis injurious both to her self and me, to look upon Him as a person to be pitied, that is going to receive the honour and satisfaction, to suffer in her sight, what he suffers partly for her service. And the place he implores but in her favourable not her mournful thoughts, will give him the noblest and desirablest Being, that he can have upon Earth, when he shall be in Heaven.
The things which Didymus said, and the pathetical way he said them in, did not leave the fair Person they were address’d to, all the unmov’dness of mind, she us’d to be Mistress of on other occasions. And considering these as the last and dying words of an accomplish’d Gentleman, that had so highly serv’d and lov’d her, she could not hinder her resentments from making her, on such an occasion, remit somewhat of her wonted reserv’dness. Wherefore with Eyes, wherein though she endeavour’d to suppress Tears, she disclos’d an extraordinary Grief; and with Looks, wherein both Gratitude and Obligedness display’d themselves; she told him, If I look’d upon your Vertue, generous Didymus, as one that were but somewhat extraordinary, I should think my self oblig’d to make excuses; and seek your pardon for having been, though undesignedly, so accessory to the early loss of a life, so worthy to be a long one. But what you have this day done, makes me apprehend that such Discourses, would not be very pleasing, to one that delights in such Actions. But do not think, I conjure you, that, though I cannot pretend to merit or requite Services of so unusual a strain as yours, I can be insensible, how much I owe to them, not only upon the score of their greatness, but upon that of the handsom and generous way wherein you did them. For (continues she, with a colour that somewhat expounded the meaning of what she was going to say) if after the Vertue and Gallantry you this day express’d, Providence had thought fit to place me in a condition of making you Retributions, I will allow you to think, that in chusing them for you, I should have been very much, if not unreservedly, guided by your wishes. Here she paus’d a while, and blush’d the latter, that she had said, what to her niceness seem’d so much; and the former, to consider whether he deserv’d not to have more said to him. But her obliging looks did so well second and expound, her otherwise, somewhat indefinite words, that Didymus’s Heart readily understood the Language of her Eyes; and her Heart spoke so clearly in her Cheeks, somewhat that it scrupled to utter by her Tongue, that, expressing more than she said, without injuring her Modesty she righted her Gratitude: her passionate Admirer esteeming himself more highly recompenc’d, by this permission, to suppose her, kindness than he would have done by the perfectest assurance of any others love: And fancying, that by the sight of that new Fire that flash’d in her Cheeks, he could descern in her Breast such a resentment of his Services, as involv’d an approbation of their cause, and imply’d a peculiarity for his Person; he took the high est retribution he ever did, for the highest he ever could receive from a Lady, whose Beauty and Reservedness were so great, that no favour of her granting, could appear little.
But Theodora quickly recovering the disorder, this merited Declaration had put her into, made hast to prosecute her discourse, by adding, But ‘tis my satisfaction, and will I hope, be yours, that, since you acted upon Religions score, as well as mine, you will not want a recompence, greater than it had been possible for me to give you; since in rescuing me upon a Christian account, you have serv’d a Master, that is able most richly to reward, even your Performances and Sufferings: And doubt not Didymus, (continues she) but that, when you shall once be possess’d of a Glorious and Immortal Crown in Heaven, you will have no cause, to be troubled, at your having, upon Earth, left a Crown of Lawrel, or miss’d one of Myrtle. If I were to tarry, or rather languish, here below, as many years as your mistaken kindness makes you wish me; your favours have been so extraordinary, that, without being guilty of an ingratitude that would be so too, I could never lose the remembrance of them, nor omit paying you the highest acknowledgements, that the chief place, not only in my memory, but in my esteem and friendship, could make you. But do not Didymus, I beseech you, think of my Surviving you, when the holding out a few minutes longer for Christ, will introduce me into a Condition, where I shall ever see him, and never offend him. Let us then, (concludes she) quit the thoughts of this World, that we are going so soon to quit, and begin to fix them on those joys of another, that we are going to possess for ever; and during that little time, that is requisite to go take our Crowns, let us summon up all our powers, to contribute to a behaviour befitting such Expectations. Let our last services to Religion, be our noblest ones, that our Deaths may at least adorn it, if not propagate it. Let us receive the last effects of our Persecution, as persons that do not deserve such an usage, and are above the reach of it. Let us aspire to Christs temper, in his cause; and suffer Like him, as we suffer For him: and then we need not doubt, but, in spight of this short separaration we are yielding to for his Sake, we shall joyfully, and for ever, meet again, in a better place, and in an inestimably happier condition.
Theodora had scarce made an end of speaking, when, all things being in a readiness to put the Judges Sentence in Execution, they to whom that infamous employment was committed, came to bring notice of it to Didymus, who, notwithstanding the reluctancy he had, to part with the admirable, and now obliging, Theodora; thinking it would misbecome him, to stay for being press’d on such an occasion delay’d not, with all the resolution he was able to assume, to take his last farewel of her. This cruel separation, being not to have an end, before both their Lives, was solemniz’d by that excellent pair, with Gestures and Expressions so sensible and moving, that, declining an account, which I could not attempt to give, without sharing very much in a grief, that I should be able, but very imperfectly, to describe; I shall silently pass over the Circumstances of this sad Separation, that more troubled the generous Lover, and perhaps his admirable Mistress too, than that of Soul and Body, which was presently to follow it. But Didymus, now finally parted from Theodora, whilst he was moving towards the place of his Sufferings, having by the assistance of him, whose Religion call’d Him to them, assum’d a temper of mind, suitable to the glorious work he was going to undertake, and entirely dispos’d himself, after having done all that became a Lover, to suffer as became a Christian.
This was much the less difficult for him to do, because his whole past life was an excellent preparative, to make him act the last scene of it worthily. For (to add somewhat on this occasion, to the Character given of him in the first Book.) Didymus was a Person, in whom Divine Grace had produc’d so early a Piety, that he was a well grown Christian, before he was come to be a full grown Man. And judging the most flourishing time of his Age, to be, for that reason, the fittest to be Devoted to the most worthy of Objects; He was enabl’d both to suppress the heats of Youth, and despise the Vanities of the World; even while that usually ungovern’d Age, made the former most impetuous, and gave the latter, the great endearment of Novelty. Nor did his being a Soldier, prove an Obstacle to his Piety. The Examples of Joshua, David, Jonathan, and other brave Warriers of the Old Testament, shew, that Heroick Valour, may be accompany’d with eminent Piety. And the first Proselyte the Heathen World presented to Christianity, being a Captain, and continuing to be so after his Conversion; argues, that a Military state of Life, is not inconsistent with the most innocent of Religions. And for Didymus; as he fought not out of Fierceness, or Avarice, or Ambition; but to exercise and improve his Vertue; so amidst all his Military Conflicts, he was still careful To fight the good fight of Faith: And being taught by the Holy Scripture, that The Life of Man here on Earth, is a kind of Military one: He us’d the Roman Camp as a School to a higher sort of Warfare; where, as the hardships are greater, and the Victories more difficult, so the Crowns and Triumphs are incomparably more Valuable and Glorious. A Person thus qualify’d and dispos’d, could not find it very uneasie, to part, for his Religion, with a Life that he had led so well, and hazarded so often; nor to leave a World, That Sin and Persecutions embitter’d, and That was presently to be left by Theodora, that he might pass to a place where they should meet to be Crown’d. Wherefore, resolving to shew that the approach of a reputedly infamous Death, was not able, either to shake his Constancy, or extinguish his Charity; he dispos’d himself to mingle in his last Actions and Sufferings, the courage of a Roman Soldier, with the resignment of a Christian Martyr. And accordingly, walking on towards the place of Execution, with a calmness and undauntedness, that could scarce have proceeded from a resolution not strengthen’d by Faith; as soon as He came thither, He look’d round about him upon the Guards, and other Assistants of this sad Spectacle, in such a way, as if He raTher pity’d them, than lik’d the Pity, which many of them could not but by their Tears express for Him, and discours’d to them with all the gracefulness, that Youth and Courage could give so extraordinary a Person. And because he suppos’d, that (as ‘twas usual on such occasions of Concourse) there were among the Spectators, some Military Men that were Christians in their Hearts, though they had not been call’d to own it publickly; He address’d himself particularly to them. And having premis’d, that he pretended not to instruct them as barely Christians, because he doubted not, but he had been prevented by the weighty and moving Sermons of divers burning and shining Lights, and guiders of the Church: He told them, he would confine his advices to what was suitable to the condition he shar’d in with them, of being Christian Soldiers. And then he briefly, but pathetically, exhorted them to all those Vertues and practices, that might recommend both their Persons, their Profession, and their Religion. The last of which, by many Arguments, (which his example made the more Impressive) he perswaded them, after having adorn’d it by their Lives, to confirm, if they were call’d to it, by their Deaths: Without forgetting, that the Fearful, are by the Scripture rank’d with the Vnbelievers, (Revel. 21. 8) as destin’d to the same place of Torment; and without fearing any unmerited disgrace, so much as that deserved one, threatn’d by the Captain of their Salvation, (Heb. 11. 10) to those that shall deny him before Men. He Exhorted them, by their Courage and Obsequiousness to convince their unbeleiving Superiors; that the valour of Christians could be eminently active, when their Religion did not confine it to be passive; and that when Enterprises, how dangerous soever, were as just and noble as difficult, they could emulate, if not outshine, the Gallantry of those Deify’d Heroes they refus’d to Worship. And lastly, having press’d them to be loyal to the Emperor, and obedient too, as far as was consistent with Fidelity to Him that made him so: He begg’d their Prayers for himself, and put up ardent ones of his own, for the Church, the State, his Persecutors, and particularly, for the excellent Companion of his Martyrdom. This said; he began to do what was to be done by him, towards the deliverance of his Soul from his Body; and having done it with so much serenity of Mind and Looks, that he extorted an esteem of his vertue, even from those that destroy’d him him for it; he let the Executioner do his part too, (which probably, was done by taking off his Head) and in a moment pass’d, from being a suffering Member of the Church Militant, to be a happy one of the Church Triumphant.