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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.