THE Persecutors of Theodora, hoping to intimidate her by so Tragick a Spectacle, had conducted her to a place, whence she might see all that had pass’d; of which ‘twill easily be believ’d that she had not been an unconcern’d Spectator: Her Vertue and Kindness making her a sharer in his Sufferings, by sympathising with him, and by endeavouring, as far as she could, to relieve him by her most ardent Prayers; That his constancy under them might be Divinely Supported, and richly Crown’d. But while her thoughts were, with a Divine grief, Solemnising her loss; those cruel Men that had procur’d it, being desirous to make use of the terrifying impressions they suppos’d she had receiv’d, while they were fresh and recent, advanc’d to Theodora, bringing with them the purposely disfigur’d remains of Didymus; and then told her, that she was now convinc’d, that neither Youth nor Gallantry was able to protect, from the fatal anger of the Gods, those that obstinately refus’d to Worship them; and therefore they expected, that, by a seasonable care of herself, she would shun the imitation of so Tragical an Example. To this the fair Martyr replied, that she was not at all surpriz’d at what had pass’d, and therefore, she knew not why she should be terrified by it. For Didymus and she, and all other considering Christians, that walk according to their Masters directions, were wont deliberately to weigh the consequences of embracing a strict and persecuted Religion, before they made Profession of it: And having foreseen what it might cost them, and satisfied themselves that it deserv’d a yet higher Price; they were not discourag’d nor surpriz’d, to be put to pay that price; especially, when it open’d to them an immediate passage to the possession of what they gave it for. She added, that if the Example of the generous Martyr, were to have any operation upon her, it ought not to fright her from, but confirm her in, the profession of a Religion, whose truth he thought worth dying for; and which, notwithstanding all the handsome concerns he had for her preservation, he would never speak one word to perswade her to decline, for the protracting of her Life. His Example, (continues Theodora) lets me see, that no violences upon Earth, are able to destroy a Courage that is assisted from Heaven, and fights in view of the glories of it: And his Death manifests, how quick the passage may, be between this and an incomparably better Life; and clearly shews, how soon the utmost effect of your Cruelty, can place those that despise it, above the reach of it. Then casting her mournful Eyes upon the saddest Object that ever they beheld; If you should, says she, be so inhumane, as to exercise any further Cruelty upon this now inanimate Prison, whence his glad Soul has Escap’d; you may intend him a mischief, but he will not feel it, unless it be in the encrease of the recompences of his Martyrdom. You may, if you please, insult over his dead Body; and those whom his vertue made his Friends, may some of them be troubled at it: but while you are triumphing at his Death, and others are deploring it, I doubt not, but the welcomes and joys he receives in the blessed place he is gone to, make him happy enough, to pity not only those that hate him, but those that pity him too. What you shew me as the Trophy of your Power, I look upon, as that of his Constancy: and for what you presume to be Your Victory, He will be really Crown’d. The Grave, (continues she) is, I confess, a sad Prospect, to them that look no further, and terminate their sight there; but not to those sufferers for the Truth, who, with the Eye of Faith, looking beyond it, see all those Glories on the other side of it, that expect them there; whereunto, as some kind of Death must necessarily be the way, so Martyrdom of all, other is the Noblest. Wherefore, (concludes Theodora) you will very much miss your aim, if you forbear bringing my constancy to the last Tryal, only upon hopes, that Death dress’d with unusual Horror, by being besmear’d with Didymus’s Blood, should frighten me into Apostacy: For, I am much less terrified by his Fate, than encouraged by his Example. In imitation of which, I declare to you once for all, that, as I always valued this World too little, to be much afraid to part with it for a better; So I shall never be brought to quitan excellent Religion for a bad one, for fear of exchanging a wretched Life for a happy one.
This positive and final declaration of Theodora, did so enrage those to whom she made it, that, finding themselves quite disappointed of the hopes they had, to terrifie her by their last Expedient, Didymus’s Death; they presently led her away to participate of his Fate, which they found her so resolv’d not to decline. And now the admirable Theodora, having receiv’d that cruel, but welcom Command, most readily dispos’d herself to obey it: And considering how near she was to put a period to all the afflictions of her Life, by the gloriousest Action it could be concuded with; and how soon she should enjoy the happiness of entering Heaven, thorough the streightest and noblest Gate at which it is accessible: Her Beauty, that was before admirable, appear’d more so than ever, being strangely encreas’d, by the effusions of a Coelestial Joy, that did too much abound in her heart, not to flash out manifestly in her looks; to whose native Charms, it superadded so much of Luster and Majesty, that she seem’d (upon some peculiar design) to be newly come from the Heaven she was going to. So great a constancy and chearfulness of mind, upon so sad an occasion, wanted not a resembling Operation, upon the generality of the wondering Assistants. For though the Report, that was quickly spread of so uncommon an Action, as that of Theodora, done by so extraordinary a Person, as Fame had represented her to be; had drawn a great concourse of People, to see one that acted, as well as look’d, so handsomly: Yet when they had a while beheld her, and saw the cruel Instruments of what she was doom’d to suffer; among that numerous Throng of Spectators, there were none that were not Admirers; many that look’d on her with dazled, and few without flowing Eyes. Every sort of Spectators found something in her Person and Condition, that made them mournful Ones. The Christians that chanc’d to mingle with the rest of the Crowd, Lamented, to see their Religion depriv’d of so great an Ornament, and so shining an Example; though their grief were moderated by considering, that she was entering into a most happy place, to which they might hope, ere long, to follow her. And in the mean time, ‘twas no small credit to their Religion, that a Lady of her Beauty, had liv’d according to the strictest Laws of it; and a Person of her youth and sex, was ambitious to dye for it. Those among the Spectators that yet retain’d Roman Spirits, and were the genuine Off-spring of those noble Ancestors, that scrupled not in Rome it self, to allow publick marks of honour to its greatest Enemies; could not but be troubled, to see so rare a thing as a Female Hero, punished for a Generosity, that could not sufficiently be Rewarded; and brought to an untimely, and, in popular estimation, Ignominious End, for having followed Dictates of Gratitude and Piety. Those Infidels, on whose sentiments Vertue had more influence than Superstition, were very much dissatisfied with the rigour of their Magistrates; thought it a discredit to their Religion, to use such barbarous, and yet ineffectual Courses, to fright Men into it; and they thought it an invidious service to their Gods, to destroy the fairest Masterpieces they had made. But those that seem’d most to deplore the fair Martyrs condition, were those that were dispos’d to have their Affections wrought on by their Eyes, and were apt to be influenc’d by Beauty. For these much repin’d and griev’d, to see so glorious a Sun reduc’d to set in her East. They envy’d Didymus, for having so generously serv’d and suffer’d for so rare a Person; who, they thought, instead of the barbarous usage she receiv’d, deserv’d to be as happy, as her Smiles could make her Adorers. And they allow’d themselves to think, that nothing could be a Vertue, that depriv’d the World of so much Beauty. In short, most of the By-standers griev’d, to behold a person, whose youth would pass for innocency, and whose charms would, give her Captives among Savages destroy’d in Greece by Romans. So that bating those few Barbarians, whose Superstition and Malice brought her to that Condition: All the other Spectators of her Sufferings, were deplorers of them too: And many to that degree, that to judge by Their looks, and those of our fair Martyr, one would have believ’d that the Assistants were to be sufferers in the approaching Tragedy, and She but the Spectator of it.
And now the Matchless Theodora came to the place, whence her aspiring Soul was to take its flight to Heaven. In order to which, she first look’d about her with a kind of pity, on those, that either never, or later than she, were to be admitted into the felicity she was presently to possess: And afterwards she paus’d a while, to recover from some disorder that she was put into; not so much to see her self environ’d with Guards, as surrounded with Gazers: and then, though her Bashfulness made it more uneasie to her to speak to the Assistants, because her speech must be a publick one, than because it must be her last; yet with a Voice and Gestures, wherein the Modesty of a Virgin, and the Courage of a Martyr, were happily temper’d, she address’d her self to those that were about her, in such as the following terms.
Since Custom has made it a kind of Duty, that those that come to this place, should say something to the Spestators; and make a publick Confession of their Guilt, or protestation of their Innocence; I shall in part do both the one and the other. For I will […] deny, that I am, what the Laws have condemn’d me for being. Yes; I own my self a Christian, and in spight of all my past and approaching sufferings, I declare, that I think it an honour and a happiness to be so. But on the other side, I can most truly protest, that I have transgress’d no other Roman Laws, than those that are repugnant to those of God and Reason. And since we Christians are taught by our great masters Example, as well as Precepts, not only to forgive, but to love our Enemies, and pray for our Persecutors; I think my self oblig’d, and by his assistance find my self enabled, not only to forgive, as I heartily do, the procurers of my Death, but ardently to implore for them, the Blessing, and the unmolested Exercise of a Religion, that they see I value more than I do my Life. And I hope, those in Authority will, by the frequent Executions that daily succeed one another in this place, be at […]gth convinc’d, how ineffectual, as well as inhumane, a way they take, to extirpate Christianity: Which being an Heavenly Light, can be as little ruin’d by the Violence employed against it on Earth, as Tempests can Extinguish the Sun. And because ‘tis likely that Charity or Curiosity has, among other Spectators, brought hither some Christians, I shall now address my self to Them; yet not to desire their Pity, but their Prayers, That I may be enabled to overcome the last Enemy, Death, and finish my Course, in such a way, as may neither blemish my past Life, nor the glorious Cause I gladly loose it for. But the chief part of my Request regards your selves, not me. For I must beg you to remember, that, besides an All seeing Eye, there are many other Eyes upon you, that pry into your Actions with strong desires to find them Criminal: And that though the truth, nor the subsistance of Christianity does not, yet the Credit of it does much, depend upon the Nature of your Actions. For, as all your personal faults will be imputed to your Religion, so your shining Vertues, will probably bring many Infidels first to admire, and then to embrace Christianity; justly concluding, that That Religion must be excellent, that makes its professors so; and enables, as well as enjoins them, to live blameless in the World, and go joyfully out of it. If you lead such lives, you will not be much afraid of Martyrdom; which will but send you sooner to receive those inestimable rewards of them, that Gods goodness hath promis’d and provided. I wish you may never have cause, nor upon occasion want Courage, to enter into Life at that streight Gate, that I am now going to pass through. But if you be call’d to that way of glorifying God, let neither the ignominy, nor the painfulness of it, deter you. ‘Tis not shameful, but glorious, to suffer for God, for Truth, and for a Crown; and my Example may encourage the weakest of you to expect, that Gods strength will be made manifest in your Infirmity; and that there’s no Temptation but may be resisted and vanquished, by the weakest hand, that is supported and strengthen’d by an Almighty Arm. And though the distance between Heaven and Earth, our Mortal and our Immortal state, be very great; yet the passage between them may be very short: and a few moments may bring us to exchange our Agonys for Extasies, and pass from the Lamentations of our Friends, and the reproaches of our Persecutors, to the Congratulations of Angels, and the solemn Welcoms of Him, whom even those Heavenly Spirits adore.
As soon as she had ended this Discourse, though her Soul, abandoning such a Body as hers, could scarce any where but in Heaven, find an advantage by a change of Mansion; yet it cheerfully dispos’d it self to a Separation, that would give it a closer and more immediate Union with the Divine Object of its Coelestial love. And after she had decently and calmly, made all the preparation that on her part was requisite for what she was to suffer, she thought fit to make her Lifes last actions, as most of the rest had been, acts of Piety, and Charity. And therefore elevating her Eyes and Hands towards Heaven, where her Heart, as well as her Treasure, had been plac’d long before; she first paid her God most humble thanks, for the Grace and opportunity he had vouchsaf’d her; not only to believe in his Divine Son, but to suffer for him; and then made a short, but very fervent Prayer, for the Church, for her Enemies, and for her self. Which done, with a Countenance wherein serenity was mingled with joy, she gave a sign to the Executioner to do his Office; who thereupon did all that was necessary to compleat her Martyrdom. And the glad Soul was by the Angels, (whom she had aspir’d to resemble in Purity and Devotion) carry’d to that happy place, whose Glorys are neither to be Conceiv’d, (1 Cor. 11. 9) by those that have not seen them, nor Describ’d by those that have; (2 Cor. 12. 4) such supernatural Felicities, as much Transcending mans Idea’s and his Expressions as they surpass his Merit.