of that same history, so that it follows in its footsteps entirely. B We must know, however, that we have not undertaken this work as if we believed we could recount the same things that were once spoken by others more copiously, more elegantly, or more clearly: but partly to fulfill our own vow, that we might offer something small and modest—to the extent of our powers—to the excellent Martyr of God (who, in her goodness, takes in good part even the smallest things), and partly that we might diligently fulfill the command of a certain pious man, of whom we have made mention in passing in this very work. We ask all who read this writing, both now and those who may perhaps read it in the future, to observe that if anything at all has been added or brought forth by us—as indeed has been done—it has nevertheless been brought forth in no way outside the scope or intent of those who previously wrote the history of this same matter. For we have followed the sense and order of what was spoken or done at the time of the martyrdom; and, by merely employing a different manner of composition and discourse (to confess the truth as it is), we have appropriated the labor previously undertaken by others and dedicated it to the great Martyr of God. Furthermore, having attributed to the same martyr C speeches or sermons, as the situation seemed to allow, and having assigned to each person a form of speech proper and suitable to them, we have, unless we are mistaken, restored to it its ancient grace and ornament. As for an Attic style of speaking or a diction redolent of antiquity, we were little concerned; we turned our thoughts chiefly to observing the truth, clarity, and the order of the events, so that not a single thing said or done by our apostle and martyr, nor what was said or done by others on her account, might go unknown.
Herodotus of Halicarnassus, Thucydides the Athenian, and anyone else who followed them in writing history, both ancient and new, in their literary remains, profess that they approached their own specific labor of writing from an internal impulse and desire of their own mind. But I, spurred on often by a divine voice, and urged by the advice of an excellent and most wise man—I mean Achaeus, the best and most sophisticated—have set myself to weave together this history of the apostle and martyr Thecla. D I did not do this out of fear that her deeds might slowly vanish with the passage of time (for the deeds of the saints remain stable, firm, and destined to last for all eternity, preserved by God both for the glory of their name and for the benefit of those still living upon the earth), but so that we might adorn ourselves with this pious study, and at the same time fulfill the vow we have long desired: the account of the things spoken or done by the apostle and martyr, or those things spoken or done by others on her account.
A Just as the blessed and wonderful Luke is seen to have done in the divine Gospels and in the composition concerning the apostles, having set Theophilus at the head, to whom he also dedicated all the labor of his divine writing. I shall begin the history of the virgin thus: B
The Word of God, being from God and the Father from above, and from the time that the Father was (and there was not a time when the Father was not, always being with the Son; for they always co-existed with one another, the Father with the Son, the Son with the Father, the Light with the Light, the ever-living water with the ever-living spring), having been born and become flesh from the holy and ever-virgin Mary in the last days, and having descended to earth for the salvation of the human race, for which cause He also became man, a choir of apostles was established by Christ Himself while He was still legislating affairs on the earth; and after the ascension of Christ Himself into the heavens, many and innumerable flocks of martyrs sprouted forth and rained down like showers. In this same time, Thecla also presents herself, not after many martyrs, nor after a long time; but she is second immediately after the apostles and Stephen the martyr, whom the discourse of truth acknowledges as first among men; and she is first of all women. So that Stephen leads the men who struggled for Christ and because of Christ; while Thecla holds the leading place among women who struggled in the same kind of contest. She presents herself in this way: C
The divine Paul, being a Jew from the beginning, and a persecutor, and a zealot of the ancestral law, as he himself says somewhere, but having been deemed worthy of the divine baptism and preaching, and of being an apostle (the manner of which we have been taught by the blessed Luke), he held thereafter to the apostolic course. This Paul then, traversing the inhabited world for the instruction, calling, and salvation of the nations, arrives also at Iconium, as one intending to preach the truth there as well. Now this is a city of Lycaonia, not far distant from the east, but rather inclining toward Asia, and situated at the entrance of the region of the Pisidians and Phrygians. D Having come there, and having been deemed worthy of the reception from Onesiphorus, and having been kindly entertained, he becomes also a neighbor to the virgin Thecla; not desiring this, nor pressing toward this, but being led by the Holy Spirit, in order that through such neighborliness, even without being seen, Paul might transmit the faith to the virgin, and might send across and cause to shine the ray of piety to the maiden who was still sitting in the darkness of error. Which indeed came to pass. For as soon as in the house of Onesiphorus
A he began to teach and many gathered to listen—for this very purpose and because of this gathered—the maiden, being well-born from the start and priding herself on her extreme nobility, wealth, and beauty, and being already of marriageable age, having often stirred up anxieties and contentions among many of the fortunate and young (for whom, when they desire to marry the most beautiful and best, worries and disputes are wont to be stirred up), she had nevertheless become acquainted with Thamyris, through his mother Theocleia, a man more fortunate than all the others who were flourishing in that city at that time, and superior in all other respects. B Being still in extension and delay of the wedding arrangements, the maiden approaches one of the windows of the house, which was near another window belonging to a different house, that of Onesiphorus. And somehow she hears the voice of Paul, and was initially astonished, as if hearing a strange and unusual voice; for Christ so willed it, so that by this means especially so great a prize might be captured. And having perceived some of the words of the divine discourse, her soul was at once drawn out by the sayings, and she was fastened to the window, as if by adamant nails, by the words of Paul.
What manner and kind were these words of Paul?
C "Men, you who have gathered as if to hear something strange and extraordinary from me, a strange speaker; I shall speak things that are truly strange and extraordinary, yet they are divine and saving, and things which I have learned from the Word of God Himself, who was born into human form and nature, and was seen on earth, and who taught us this angelic and heavenly way of life. How blessed is that man, a true spectator of the divine Deity, who has kept his own soul pure and integrated and untroubled by these human evils! Blessed again is that other [man], who has not betrayed his own flesh to the most shameful pleasures, as one who will also himself enjoy the sight of God without any hindrance; and likewise, that man is to be considered no less blessed who, D though born by the common law of nature, has passed through life as if not born at all, pure and without any stain of shame, and who has applied the use of this life only to the most honest and most pleasing things to God, and not to the most base and those hateful to Him. And I also say that this is most excellent and contributes greatly to attaining the same blessedness: to enter into marriage and to fix the bridal chamber (God Himself also commanding this), but to devote so much effort to the marital matter as is sufficient for the offspring to be produced from it and to be substituted in the place of the parents in life, and that there be no deviation from the gravity of the morals of those who cultivate virginity. Again, one might say that those also share equally in this blessedness, who, by the reverence and fear of God, take care of the purity of both soul and body, taking care of...
and also of inviolable and most excellent virginity; who might even be called A participators of the life of angels upon earth, in that they participate in that very same state, free from all disturbances. Further, I judge those even much more blessed, who have kept the grace received from baptism safe and unspotted, and have not defiled the garment of Christ with shameful deeds or words, but have kept it until the end just as they received it in the beginning. Moreover, I have deemed those also as worthy of emulation who take care of the needs of the destitute and the poor, and seek like mercy from the greatest God. Besides all this, it is necessary always to hold the faith and affection toward Christ unremittingly, unshaken, unswerving, inalterable, and faultless. For since this, as a summit of virtues, is held firmly and constantly, the whole body of piety will be safe, and will easily make its way straight to heaven, and thereafter will participate in and enjoy the kingdom, the glory, the rest, and those divine and incorruptible crowns and rewards B of those things; he who has attained these is most blessed, but he who misses them is truly most miserable, and worthy of the punishments of hell.
Such were the things that the divine Paul appeared to be saying and advising to the citizens who were then present. And so he inflamed all the listeners, both men and women, with such great and measureless zeal for his discourse on piety, that houses were now overflowing with a great throng of people from all sides, and the narrow lanes C were filled with a surging crowd of men, women, and even children and the elderly. Everyone, out of pleasure, forgot about food and drink, and neglected their household and market affairs, hanging entirely on the voice and teaching of Paul. Meanwhile, the virgin remained at home, still adhering to the window most dear to her; for the modesty of her age, and the fact that it is established by law that maidens should not be out in public, but remain quietly inside the house, still curbed the noble impulse of her soul and urged her to remain within, although she felt this with great gravity and annoyance, and was lamenting, and was in doubt as to what she should do. Yet of all those who were present and listening, she who was not present and not even seeing Paul caught hold of the words of Paul all the more, and clung tightly to the window, as if it were ministering that most beloved voice to her, and making her in no way inferior D to those who were seeing and standing around Paul.
As the maiden was behaving in such a resolute and steadfast manner, not even enduring, so much as to step away from the window, as to partake of drink and food, or, as is the custom for maidens, to adorn the neglected parts of her body with clothing, or anointing with perfumes, or application of cosmetics, or braiding of hair; this troubled Theocleia, whom the narrative identifies as the mother of the maiden, and toward suspicion and
a base timidity it drove her. For to be thus disturbed about a stranger, and to turn away from all the necessities and pleasures of life, naturally produced in those unacquainted with the situation an unfavorable suspicion. B Hence, with all haste, the mother sends for Thamyris, as one who would be able to persuade and lead back the maiden who was being kept for him. For even before the bridal union and intimacy, a certain love is accustomed to be born among those who are as yet betrothed only by words; and the young man loves the maiden whom he has not yet experienced, and the young woman loves the youth, and even before the bridal chamber and the nuptial hall, she speaks familiarly with him as though he were already her husband, though not yet joined to her. And while the marriage is still deferred, a certain pleasure and graceful delight steals into the thoughts of both; and even before the day of the marriage bed, as is natural, they converse about matters that are appropriate to discuss after it.
Thamyris therefore arrived, having been summoned, dreaming of the things he had hoped for, and for that reason hurrying with speed; but finding things he had not hoped for, he blamed his own haste. For immediately Theocleia addressed him with such words as these: C «Shame anticipates my words, Thamyris, and my tears, and I blush before I speak, not bearing the injury of the things I am about to tell you concerning my child. Listen, however, and listen to me even though I relate the woes of my misfortune against my will. Your Thecla has utterly disappointed our prayers and the expectation we had conceived concerning her; she despises me, her mother, and she slights you, her betrothed, and she cares nothing at all for the matters concerning this house; she is enamored of a certain stranger, an impostor and a vagabond, who has taken over that neighboring house to the ruin of our own house, that he might carry her off as a captive, as though from a mill or some attic. Make haste, therefore, and be quick, Thamyris, and snatch her from the hands of the one who already has her eyes turned toward him, and call her back to us again, and preserve for your lineage and mine our former happiness, D lest we become a shameful fable and a most wretched tale to the human race. Utilize, however, soft and flattering words toward her, and as with oil, soften the tension and anger of her soul with the art of flattery; for a stubborn and hardened mind can never be overcome by violence, but rather by persuasion and the gentleness of words. Approach her, therefore, in an urbane and gentle manner; perhaps you will entice her to your own position, and lead her back to her former liberty and order, and to the modesty and chastity that befit maidens and virgins.» As Theocleia was saying these things and beseeching him with groans, Thamyris was instantly filled with dizziness and darkness, and from an immeasurable joy to an immeasurable grief...
A he was drawn. Nevertheless, he approached the virgin with a sad and cast-down countenance, trembling and weeping, and for a short while hesitant as to what he should say to her. Scarcely, at last, breathing again from his sorrow, he used this kind of speech toward her:
"I am uncertain, O virgin, by how much the most beloved to me of all, where I should begin my discourse with you. For this deed now committed by you has brought me, and likewise your mother, into desperation and the most extreme helplessness of mind. For these actions of yours differ greatly in reality from your character, nature, and your accustomed modesty and gravity; this, I imagine, has happened through the impulse of some sinister and malignant spirit, which attempts to divert you from honest thought, to overturn the long-established happiness of your house, and to brand us all with disgraceful reproach in place of the most beautiful good name. Nevertheless, even now, yield to me, your Thamyris. For I am yours, if not yet by marriage, then by law and by the faith of the agreements made between us. B And withdraw from this window; and do not offer your hearing any longer to this stranger and vagabond, who, I know not how, has slipped into this city, lest perhaps some absurd report spread about you: that the daughter of the noble Theocleia, the betrothed of Thamyris, first of the city, having despised everyone—wealth, lineage, mother, and the noble accounts of her ancestry, and furthermore her noble upbringing and education—has flowed toward some stranger and vagabond, and become the talk of the city, the plaything of some captive and parasite. C And he indeed sings, sitting by some window; and she, ensnared by the songs, clings to the window, and holds in contempt the mother who warns and beseeches her at every hour; and she holds in contempt her betrothed, and soon-to-be husband, who is advising and begging her; and she is entirely in his power and that of his words and deceitful allurements. Be timely, therefore, my dearest, and flee such slanders and reproaches, and turn your hearing away from that foul voice; and in place of this deceptive and foreign pleasure, employ your own modesty and temperance. Leave off, finally, from this window—a place neither suitable for a free-born girl, and one which will certainly be the cause of infamy for you. And if it should not be considered burdensome to you, while you are still a virgin, to hear this suggestion, let us now D complete the much-desired marriage, with God being propitious."
With these and many other such words did Thamyris make use, Theocleia also begging along with him, and striving with all her might to draw her daughter into this opinion; she was, at the same time, showing her breasts and her gray hair, and begging her not to afflict these with this irrational disease. But the virgin, not having accepted any of these words at all, had supported herself solely upon the voice of Paul; not even enduring to look at Thamyris, nor to give to her mother, who was advising her, the
A hearing; but according to the manner of those women possessed by the divine, looking only to that one thing, toward which the longing and the word for Christ drew her. So that because of this, the room was filled with wailing and lamentation, and everything became full of gloom and mourning. While matters were in this state within the household, Thamyris leaped up and, rushing out of the house, hastened to the courtyard gate of Onesiphorus, heading straight for Paul himself. However, he checked his impetuosity when he encountered there those around Demas and Hermogenes. These two were not good men, although they pretended to be so in the highest degree; yet they were living in the company of Paul: not that their true character was hidden from him; but the Apostle allowed them to enjoy his kindness, so that they might either become better through such association, or in the future, if they persisted in their wickedness, might attribute their folly to themselves. Thamyris, therefore, inquired of them regarding Paul, asking who this stranger might be and whence he came; what he wanted, what he was saying, and what he was doing. When those around Demas perceived the man's B agitation and anger (for it did not escape them that Thamyris was filled with fury and puffed up with rage), they revealed the poison of his bitterness, which from long before had been hidden C and smoldering within his heart, and seized this opportunity against Paul, and they respond to Thamyris in this way:
"O most excellent of men (for that you are such is manifest to us from what we see and what we hear, since by sight and hearing virtue and vice are for the most part discerned), hear these things from us regarding whom you now inquire of us, truth being your guide. Who this stranger is and whence he comes, we do not know for certain; but that he is an impostor and a deceiver, and that, wandering through the world against the common order and discipline of life, he has destroyed everything, this we know, and indeed most clearly, from the things which we have often been taught by this very man himself. For he is entirely intent on this concern: that he may destroy, subvert, and with all his might do away with the way D devised by nature itself for the human race, namely, the propagation of offspring through marriage. Moreover, he strives to disturb the whole nature of the human race at once with certain new and strange doctrines, legislating celibacy, discoursing on virginity, using terms that are strange and now for the first time uttered by him. Nay, he even attempts to preach and introduce a kind of resurrection of bodies that have long since finished their lives and resolved into the earth—a thing strange and never heard of by anyone until now; whereas a true and exact resurrection is preserved in human nature itself and is accomplished each and every day. For the succession of children born from us is this, and this is what it intends: that the likeness of those from whom they were sown and brought forth is in all things renewed again, and in a certain manner rises again; so that it seems as if one sees those who have long since departed, living again among those who are alive and survive." These things those around
A Dema and Hermogenes saying, Thamyris was filled with even more rage. And as if he had grasped a most clear argument for inveighing against Paul, he kept quiet for the moment, and turned himself to a feast, and indeed invited and led those very men away to his own house; offering these banquets as if it were a certain reward for the slander concocted against Paul, so that he might make them all the more eager for the things that remained. But as soon as it became day, and not even enduring to wait for the sun to rise, together with certain commoners and market-loungers, and men accustomed to daring anything, he attacked Paul. And for each of those who followed him, the weapon was each man’s own fury, and the instrument of each man’s trade found in his hands. And towards these things, a certain man finally cried out: B "Let him be struck, let him be beaten, let this deceitful rascal be dragged to the tribunal—the inventor of new laws contrary to nature; he who wanders about for the ruin and destruction of cities, and who decries and detests marriage, which was found for sobriety and the generation of legitimate children, but under the pretext of virginity legislates profligacy." And while these things were still being said, others also arrived, many of them, insulting and bold, dragging Paul insultingly and violently. And everything was full of noise and tumult and lamentation, just as if some enemies had suddenly fallen upon the city and were plundering everything. Along with these, Thamyris also rushed, striding with long steps, as one might say poetically, toward the tribunal; as if he had cast down some tyrant from an acropolis, and was leading Paul with his own hand to judgment; and having passed inside the judicial railing, and stood upon the platform, he began his speech in this manner:
Of the benevolence of the gods, O judge, and of your good fortune, I believe this also to be a proof: that this destroying spirit and polluted man, who has dwelt here to the harm of the whole city, has become manifest and has been brought under the laws. It would belong therefore to you, and to your sense of justice, C to assist the reigning empire, and to assist the laws, and to aid the common condition of men, which is already in danger of ceasing to be. But how this is so, I shall explain in a few words. This man who stands before your throne and your judgment seat—who he is at all, or whence he has come, I have no way of saying; for the man is a stranger and unknown to all of us. But under a mask and pretense of moderation, as you are able to see even now, and by the artifice of feigned piety, he is devising a new and strange doctrine against the common race of men, D calling marriage
A a thing to be vituperated, which one might rightly call the origin, root, and fountain of our nature; from which fathers, mothers, children, families, cities, fields, and villages have emanated; from which navigation, agriculture, and all the arts of the earth; from which kingly power, the state, laws, authorities, judicial courts, military service, and commands; from which philosophy, rhetoric, and the entire swarm of the sciences; and, what is greater, from which temples, shrines, sacrifices, rites, mysteries, vows, and supplications have flowed. For all these things, and others which we have omitted so as not to use a longer speech, are indeed brought to perfection and performed by men; but man is the crop of marriage. This very thing, then—I mean marriage—he vituperates, slanders, and, by his persuasion, leads all to hate; yet he praises a certain virginity, what that might be, I for my part cannot tell. I have heard some saying that he praises and admires celibacy, and the refusal to associate or live with one another according to the law, neither men with women nor women with men; and that he embraces childlessness and desertion. But this is nothing else than to pass a sentence of abolition upon all things at once—races, nations, cities, villages, fields, arts, works, pursuits, and, in a word, all things whatsoever; and, to express it briefly, to leave the earth deserted and uninhabited. For if all men were persuaded of this, this human race would quickly depart from life. I, for my part, have thus summarized the things said and dared by him. B It remains for you, O judge, and this is incumbent upon your office, to exact punishment from him, as one held bound by the gravest crimes; and to bring succor to us all, for whom the greatest and primary vow is to take a wife, to light the nuptial torch, to sing the marriage hymn, and to leave behind children and children’s children; and to bring succor to the better marriage, from which even you have come into this life and have had children. And you will surely see many and wondrous descendants, worthy of you, both as grandfather and great-grandfather, if you do not hesitate regarding the judgment. » When these things had been thus pleaded by Thamyris, Demas, or Hermogenes, standing a little way off from him, gently and with a glib tongue subjoining, C «Rightly, gravely, and wisely you have pleaded against this Paul. One thing only, and that of the gravest moment, has been omitted by you in your speech: that he is also a Christian; which is most of all hostile to the laws and will bring faster speed in imposing punishment upon him and casting him into the abyss of perdition.» And when this, too, had been added to the speech by Thamyris, the judge then asked Paul who he was, and whence, and what he had done. For, he says, of the things said against you by Thamyris, you have surely not been unaware. And Paul says: D • Paul defending himself • «Proconsul, best of men, of my doctrine, which is now called into judgment by these men, I am neither the author nor the inventor; but the true author, teacher, and lawgiver of this is God, who, the human race…
A having pitied and being moved by its calamity, sent others, and me also now, as a herald of his good will toward us all; so that we might eradicate and tear out by the root the disease of ignorance, error, and deception which has flourished among us from of old, and might make public and display to all men the evils of idolatry which were heretofore concealed—I mean rites, mysteries, animal sacrifices, and human slaughters—which, disguised by certain myths and more specious words, impudently broke into this life of ours, and filled the whole world with every kind of impiety and abominable wickedness. These things are by no means possible to describe, nor can they be numbered; they are utterly unspeakable and B detestable. For it is chiefly through these things, whether myths or fictions, that the true God, the administrator and creator of this whole universe, was ignored; while countless demons of every kind were worshipped—earthly, chthonic, turbulent, intrusive, envious, impure, abominable, and implacable; they were ever lusting for unlawful murders, ever thirsting for the eating of flesh, for homicide, for smoke, for gore, for the smell of roasting, and for blood; like earthquakes and plagues, they fed upon this whole inhabited world and harried it with punishments. Still more unholy and loathsome than these are the things which followed. For through these very myths, adulteries, fornications, pederasty, incest, and the corruption of children were honored by divine titles and religiously C worshipped. For is it not for this reason that Venus, Mars, Juno, and again Jove, and Ganymede, and the Swan, and Leda, and the bull swimming through the sea with Io, have attained to these things? And as for swans, and sheep, and oxen, and those even lower than these—cats, kites, and crocodiles—being reckoned among the gods, what need is there to speak at length? Or how could your teachers of polytheism feel no shame in attributing the names of gods to such things, and translating them from earth to heaven? I have often wondered, and I still wonder. On account of these things, therefore, and all the other evils of impiety, God, as I said, being merciful and moved with pity for this nature—of which he was the creator and D architect—decreed that we, his apostles, should, by the authority of his only-begotten Son, go around and travel through the whole world, and cleanse it from the evils I have mentioned and even those I have omitted, and instead of them introduce faith, the knowledge of God, and piety. It is this which most of all describes and signifies the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the holy and adorable Trinity, the uncreated and consubstantial Godhead, the eternal and immutable, the inseparable and uncircumscribed, the eternal and transcendent, the
A one in honor, one in throne, and one in glory, untouched and incomprehensible; upon whom all things depend, and to whom all things aspire, and from whom nothing at all is separated. After this, we were commanded to preach the advent of the Word of God Himself in the flesh to men. For existing as God from God, and always being with the Father, He appeared also in the flesh, born according to the common law of human nature (yet from a Virgin and a woman foreign to wedlock), so that He might preserve His own formation and creation, and rescue us from the impotent empire of the demons, and vindicate us into liberty; and in addition, to form us toward the severity of morals and temperance; and then to give admonitions toward chastity, virginity, and sacred continence. And those who were willing and obedient to the word, He exhorted to pursue steadily the path of virtue toward God; but He did not compel those who were unwilling and refused to obey these divine laws and decrees by any necessity. For force or fear could never be the creator of virtue; for good things are voluntary and not of necessity. And marriage itself was given by God as a remedy and assistance to the common race of humans, existing at once as an antidote to lust, and a kind of fountain and stream and continuation of the common race, devised by God Himself, the Creator of all things, for the salvation, preservation, and longer duration of the life of men, as others succeed others, and as they renew again the nature that is always perishing; until the time for the consummation and resurrection arriving, it makes the figure of this world pass away, and introduces in its place a better and more divine condition and state. For this mortal must put on immortality, and this corruptible must simultaneously put on incorruptibility, and we all must return again to our ancient fatherland and city; whose place is heaven, and whose builder and creator is God. These things I preach, these things I teach; for the sake of these I wander over the whole earth; for the sake of these I have arrived here even now; let him judge me for these, let him arraign me, who wishes and is able. For I am prepared to rush to any struggle and peril for the sake of the truth. ≫ After Paul had spoken these things in response to Thamyris, and had excited no small admiration for himself, because he had defended the faith with such a brilliant speech and upright spirit, the proconsul, finding nothing in so much clamor and tumult and the seditious words of Thamyris worthy of judgment against Paul, and again, while approving some parts of the Apostle's discourse and mocking others, as one having heard accounts unfamiliar and new to him; and at the same time, intending to create a delay for the noise and business against him, orders Paul to be cast into prison, so that he might listen to him again. As these things had happened, and that great confusion and storm had been dispersed, the virgin, being ignorant of none of these things that had been done, for she was now taking great care of the things being done concerning the teacher
A considers and performs a deed more impulsive than that of a young girl, more manly than that of a woman, and more fervent than that of one already initiated as a Christian. For, stripping off her adornments (and these were both many and very precious), her bracelets, earrings, necklaces, and the rest of the inventions of feminine vanity, she purchases with these the opportunity to see and behold Paul. For her love for piety now led her into even more daring thoughts and actions. Having persuaded one of the servants, who was also in charge of guarding the doors, and having given the bracelets as a bribe, and by this means having made the scoundrel more humane—and, indeed, a traitor to his mistress—she succeeds, and departs from the house, her heart palpitating and trembling, and her complexion changing at such a bold and unbecoming enterprise for a girl. Nevertheless, she goes out, and quicker than a word, she reaches the prison, having also used the time as an accomplice to such a theft. For the night was deep and dark, providing much security to fugitives and thieves. And when, by the same gifts, she had persuaded the prison guard—a city soldier, easily seduced by profit and a traitor (though such betrayal is often a risk to the soul)—and having found the gates free, she runs in to Paul. B Upon entering, and merely appearing nearby, she struck all those then present with amazement and cast them into great fear, so that they all turned pale. She struck Paul himself with amazement, as having dared something more bold than was expected of a woman and a girl; yet she did not cause him to despair entirely of the hope in Christ. Therefore, he called to her, and seated her near him, and shared with her the divine and heavenly words that it was necessary for her to receive, and by which she might be fitted and decked out as a bride for Christ, saying, as I suppose, something of this sort:
The speech of Paul to Thecla
C “I am bound, as you see, O maiden, on your account, and accused by your suitor Thamyris. I was grieved until now, not indeed because I was bound or imprisoned—for may it never happen that I should ever let slip the memory of those things I have suffered, and shall suffer, and which I have altogether determined to endure for Christ—but because I feared, and feared greatly, lest I should be cheated of the profit of my bonds and be forced to depart from this city without fruit or benefit, having gained no one for Christ. D But behold, you have appeared to me, and I know not whence you have come, and have dissolved this fear; and concerning those things which I have suffered on your account, and which perhaps I shall yet suffer, I now see the harvest beginning to sprout for me. And I deem you to be this harvest, you who have just now run to me, and whom I have found [to be] a yield—
of piety and faith now ripe. For just this very thing—that you were at once inflamed by that small and dim spark of my words, and that you immediately despised mother, and wealth, and lineage, and a city of no little fame, and a suitor of great renown, and that having already taken up the cross you have prepared yourself for the Evangelical course—with what great joy do you think you have filled heaven, the heavenly powers, and Christ Himself? The devil, I suppose, is now being mocked, seeing that he who was formerly puffed up by hope and spirit, and was fiercely raging against the entire nature of the human race, is now about to be quickly mocked and overthrown by you alone, a girl still tender and of early youth.
Only let no fear any longer shake you, my daughter, let no deceit beguile you, let no desire for earthly things drive you astray; let no fire, no wild beasts, no sword lead you away from this noble confession. Think no longer in a womanish or cowardly way; and having given yourself to the King of the heavens, do not fear the tyrant any longer, even if B he should attack you with temptation from a high place, even if he should wage war upon you from the very clouds, even if he should stir up all the instruments of impiety against you, both darts and traps. For he will conjure up many and infinite things against you, through words, through deeds, through promises, through scourges, through blandishments and flattery, through fire, through wild beasts, through judges and executioners. But if he perceives even a little of your steadfastness and your virtue in Christ, he will immediately recoil from you, and rushing away swifter than a word, he will flee from you more than he did from that Job: whom, when he had fought against him with a thousand evils, he then himself declared to be the victor over him.
But come, my daughter, and let me depict for you in a discourse the enemy whom I am bringing forth in these my bonds, so that you may recognize him accurately and easily. This one, then, who appears to men to be otherwise terrible, is indeed bold and shameless, and reckless and utterly wicked, and a friend of contention and war; but he is also versatile and crafty, and flattering, and for every wickedness C and fraud, he is equally most ready and most cunning; fashioning and transmuting himself into multiple forms, according to the men whom he encounters daily. Yet, however, he is cowardly and languid and slothful and weak, and accustomed to being driven away by a single more vehement threat. For if he observes any Christian who is fearful and cowardly and faint-hearted, and more a lover of life than a lover of God, he attacks, he draws up his battle line, he sets in motion every artifice against him, through pleasures, through passions, until, having torn that wretched and miserable man away from his good hope and faith, he drags him down into his own abyss, one worthy of himself alone. But if, on the other hand, he again sees someone firm, manly D and brave, and high-minded and of lofty thought, and secured with the weapons [provided] by faith, he approaches this one at the beginning through flattery and sycophancy and some such sorcery; quietly and without noise, casting a spell upon him.
and maddening him with the enticements of this life, he struggles to ensnare him and to draw him away from his position, so that by loosening his firmness of mind, he might despoil him of his piety. But if he should see that he is in no way succumbing or falling, and is not at all captured by things of this kind, but is resisting firmly and mightily, he then proceeds to attack him with stronger and more formidable weapons; striking fear into him with specters and terrors, wielding a sword, kindling a fire, inciting judges, stirring up crowds, arming executioners, and preparing wild beasts. And if he sees him standing against even these, and remaining in battle array like a faithful soldier of Christ even unto death and slaughter, he is immediately undone, he wavers, he grows sluggish, he collapses, he flees, and he stretches forth his hands confessing his defeat. For even the martyr, whether he lives or has been put to death, is no less formidable to him.
Against one thus prepared and instructed, daughter, you too must contend. But, as I have said, having Christ as your king, your champion, and now your bridegroom, and having as well prepared your own mind so beautifully, proceed successfully, proceed, be strengthened, reign. For you shall reign, I know well, against every device arranged against you, and in all things you shall overcome the tyrant; and not by yourself alone, but also through many others: for you yourself shall teach many others and lead them to your Bridegroom, after the example of Peter, of John, and of each one of us who are apostles—among whom I am certain you are also to be numbered.
A These things and others of a similar kind having been spoken, as is likely, in the prison, while he was teaching and she was learning, Thamyris rose up again against Paul, and this time with greater violence. For the fact that Thecla had remained hidden away for so long fueled the war of Thamyris against Paul all the more fiercely. For when day had now dawned and the rays of light had begun to shine forth, all the maidens and handmaidens of Thecla, who were accustomed to keep B watch before the bedchamber of the virgin, were moving about it, as if their mistress were soon to rise from her bed and demand the usual things from them—such things as a mistress is accustomed to demand from her handmaidens and they are accustomed to promptly provide for her. But when the sun was now high above the earth and no cry whatsoever was heard from Thecla, or [any] ordering of her maids as usual, "What is this?" the maidens asked among themselves and one to another; "Does our foster-child sleep until now? Has some misfortune perhaps C befallen her? Has some sickness or sudden death seized her, that she does not yet utter any sound?" While they were still saying such things, they all together burst into the bedchamber (for the time no longer permitted them to suspect anything good), and they found utterly not the virgin herself
The whole house suddenly filled with shouting and wailing; so that Theoclea, as soon as she understood the reason for this outcry and lamentation, was immediately struck senseless and rendered voiceless, while the entire city was simultaneously filled with various trouble, rushing about, and tumult, with people running in different directions and searching for the maiden—for they interpreted the disappearance of the maiden as a common calamity for the city. Meanwhile, while these things were taking place, Thecla sat at the feet of Paul, and with an undisturbed and fearless A mind, she was enjoying his divine teaching. At this very time, Thamyris arrived, one of his slaves having with difficulty finally informed him that the maiden was with Paul. Having understood this, Thamyris rushed inside, and observing this very thing, he was inflamed even more, and was driven almost to the point of madness; for he truly believed that the maiden had been bewitched and stolen away by Paul like some prize. For the fact that she had fled, and that she sat thus in such proximity to the feet of Paul, as if she were even bound together with him, provided to those who looked on then a firm and B undoubted—yet false—suspicion of lasciviousness. For often indeed, not only does a wicked deed cast suspicion on many, but even a mere posture of the body and a somewhat affected gaze subjects them to calumny. Therefore, what was happening then brought an equal suspicion to the spectators. Yet they knew Paul and Thecla, and so they did not infer such absurd and shameful things against them regarding the causes for which the maiden sat at his feet and the things about which Paul conversed with her. Thamyris, however, seeing Thecla together with Paul, which he had not expected to see even in a dream, became full of trembling and giddiness, so that he was C little short of collapsing into a swoon or even death from his excessive anguish. For when the rage of erotic madness and jealousy has once preoccupied the breast, that blight is accustomed to terminate in open fury and mere insanity of mind. Nevertheless, seizing Paul with the public and private servants whom he had with him, he dragged him off into the praetorium, omitting nothing of those things which anger desires and jealousy suggests, leaving nothing unsaid or undone against Paul; so that even Cestillius (for this was the name of the proconsul), who was otherwise sparing of Paul—for he had been captivated by the man's speech, and had been touched by the D affection of those things which were said by him concerning piety—was forced, out of shame before Thamyris and those who were clamoring before him regarding these things which seemed to them to have been perpetrated with such impudence and rashness (that he had, as they said, abducted an honorable and noble maiden like a slave, and had persuaded her to cast aside all care for honor and to prefer all that is most base and most ignominious), to have Paul moderately scourged and sent out of the city, so that he might not suffer anything more severe again. Thecla was also led to Cestillius, by her mother Theocleia, who was crying out that she too should be brought and pay the penalty for a deed so lawless and absurd. And when she arrived and was seen, she filled everyone with wonder and astonishment; for, being seen merely, she at once dazzled everyone with her beauty.
and thus, in a now neglected body—and the judge A was moved to pity and tears, and all who looked on were moved collectively to astonishment and fear, at such a lofty, proud, and stern spirit and countenance. For she did not lower herself or flinch at all in the face of what was happening, but appeared like a lion’s whelp in the midst of many does. The proconsul then addressed her with these words:
“I see, O maiden, that you lack no appearance of nobility or dignity, nor indeed any ornament of soul or body, but are endowed with the most excellent gifts, as is easy for me in particular, and for all these present, to conjecture from what we see in you. Yet what your intention is in continuing to flee from marriage, I cannot say—a thing so holy and precious, and praised with one voice by all men and gods alike. For this, to put it briefly, fills the whole earth with men and other living creatures, and fills the air with birds; nay, it even grants to the sea those things which by the law of nature are nourished in the sea. This very marriage corrects the B nature of death, and in place of those taken away by it, introduces those who shall be; so that our race is, so to speak, almost immortal, with men always being born to represent the nature, order, and use of those passing away. This is also the master, the limit, and the guardian of temperance, always hindering unlawful lusts and unions through lawful intercourse. This distinguishes the legitimate from the illegitimate and those not born well, and is the most accurate test of good birth. This also knows how to keep the appellations of families pure. This also distributes the succession of property to those to whom it is due. Why, then, do you flee from marriage, a thing so holy and so beautiful? For your father, choosing marriage and honoring marriage, obtained you, who are so very beautiful; and marriage brought each of us, who are considered well-born, into this light and present life. And each of us C must by all means depart from this life; but through marriage, he brings in another in his turn, one like himself. And surely this Thamyris is remarkable and of noble birth, and in no way unworthy of your hymns and nuptials. For he is illustrious in lineage, abounds in wealth, and is the most powerful in the whole city. You see how he is all on fire for you, places all his hopes in you, and depends entirely on the sole hope of possessing you. Do not, therefore, begrudge yourself and him these blessed nuptials, nor the city the descendants who will soon be born of you; by whom the city will be adorned, and your family will be adorned. Nor will you ever leave this life, together with the passing away of your memory, but the nobility of your name will be D perpetually propagated through your children and descendants. But if you have heard anything to the contrary from that stranger and old man, regard his words as trifles and fables and disregard them.”
A
The Proconsul’s vain efforts to dissuade Thecla
By such blandishments and enticements of speech did the proconsul endeavor to turn the maiden from her resolution; to which she uttered not a single word, judging it unworthy of a woman’s decorum and of a virgin’s modesty to make her voice public, or to expose her chaste tongue in a theater overflowing with a multitude of people. For nothing is more becoming to women, nothing more suitable, than silence and quietude. Therefore, having given no reply to anyone, like a lamb before him who shears it (unless someone might interpret this, said by me, too boldly), she stood silent, not at all seeking what she might say; but pondering in the agitation of her intent mind the tortures she would one day endure for Christ, by this very quiet and by the imperturbable constancy of her faith, she was showing the endurance that would one day be hers in the midst of adversity.
Meanwhile, a great silence having fallen, since Thecla answered nothing at all, and Cestillius was in doubt as to what he ought to do, and the people were admiring the inflexible and unyielding rigor of the maiden, Theoclea, C vehemently moved in spirit, cried out: “O judge,” she said, “why do you delay? Why do you hesitate to exact penalties from this lawless woman, this enemy of marriage (for I shall use her very words)? Why do you put off and delay kindling a fire against her? Let her be burned and perish, she who declines the noble marriage to be entered into by the law of the fatherland, but prefers the life of a harlot and a base servant; and who, fleeing from a suitor surrounding her with such great gifts, has voluntarily gone over to an errant stranger and alien, bringing by this act the greatest disgrace upon the whole fatherland, her kin, the city, and me individually, who gave birth to her for such a great evil, so that I might become a tragedy to the living.” D The proconsul, greatly disturbed by these words so miserably spoken by Theoclea, and at the same time suspecting Thamyris—as one who was very powerful and justly enraged because he was being deprived of such a beautiful wife—and fearing the doctrines regarding the Christians that were then current and bruited about, orders Thecla to be delivered to the fire.
A For it was intended that the power of Christ should be shown, and the grace of the martyr shine forth henceforth, and the labor of Paul not be rendered fruitless. Wood having therefore been gathered by all from every side, and the flame rising up into the very ether, B she is ordered to mount the pyre thus set ablaze. As she was preparing to do this with great impetus, and looking upon the fire, she began to exult in joy and gladness of soul, with countenance erect, unmoved, and bright. Behold, Christ showed himself to her in the form of Paul, confirming her eagerness, whetting her resolution, and bracing her nature [(6)]; so that the virgin, seeing it (for she truly thought it to be Paul, and not Christ), smiled and said to herself: "Behold, Paul is watching over and guarding me, lest perhaps, having grown weary and given way, and having been frightened by the fire, I should fall away from this beautiful and blessed confession. But no, by the Christ who was evangelized to me by you, O Paul, I will not betray the faith, nor will I bring shame upon your teaching. Only stand for a little while, my master, and call upon Christ for me; that by the breeze of the Spirit he may fan and cool this fire, and support the weakness of my nature with his help." C And after these words, having first imprinted upon herself the sign of the cross—or rather, having fashioned her whole self into the likeness of the cross by the stretching out of her hands on either side—she immediately leapt into the pyre, and dared the flame as boldly and unhesitatingly as anyone would dare the blazing sun in the heat of steady midday. Hence even the fire, forgetting its own nature through reverence and fear of the cross, became for the virgin a bedchamber rather than a furnace; nor did it afford those watching the sight of Thecla naked. For it rose up and arched around her, and walling off the view from the profligate on all sides, it fulfilled the need of a bedchamber rather than that of a fire. They say indeed that D the children of the Hebrews in Babylon, the great city of the Medes, being three in number, once experienced this same fire to be kindled by God for the benefit of men. But there, that alone took place, and the miracle stopped; here, however, even the earth testified to the unlawful violence attempted against the virgin, having resounded with a great and immense noise; and the heaven released a shower, though it had not been covered beforehand by vapors or clouds—which is believed and said to be the manifestation of rain, ordered by God to be brought about for the honor and defense of the martyr.
A And so, the water that poured down with much hail and great force—as if from some engine—drowned many of the Iconians in the very midst of their insolence, thereby exacting punishment for their audacity, while it delivered the virgin from the fire that appeared to be [consuming] her.
As these things were happening in the city, and everyone was struck with shock mingled with fear, and those who had dared to act against Thecla were repenting and lamenting bitterly, Paul was staying outside the city in a certain tomb with Onesiphorus; nor was he free from those struggles, but was very anxious, B persevering in fasting, cast prone upon the ground, and with tears invoking Christ on behalf of the maiden who was contending. For nothing of what was being done had escaped him, since he was near the city and there were not a few who were spreading the talk of these events. As the fasting was prolonged, the household of Onesiphorus, finally suffering greatly from lack and long hunger—for they had nothing for sustenance, neither bread, nor drink, nor food, as they were fugitives hiding themselves—begged Paul for permission to enter the city and buy what was necessary because of their need. And they were suffering this understandably; C for youth and tender adolescence are not accustomed to being afflicted and cast down in spirit by any other thing as much as by the need to endure hunger and thirst—this is the greatest ill for children. Having thus obtained leave from Paul to depart and procure what was needed, they took his cloak and left. For they had no other way to act, as they had no money.
Meanwhile, the martyr, having been delivered from the fire, and being greatly anxious because of Paul, was wandering about, when she happened upon the children of Onesiphorus, who, recognizing her, led her straightway to Paul. She found him prostrate on the ground, groaning and beseeching God; he who was now near her and at her feet. D The martyr therefore cried out and said immediately: "God, King and Creator, blessed be Thou of all this, and Father of Thy great and Only-begotten Son, I give Thee thanks, both because I have been preserved beyond the expectation of all from the threatening and violence of the fire, and because I behold this my defender and teacher, Paul; from whom I was especially preached the power of Thy kingdom, the greatness of Thy virtue, the immutability of Thy Godhead in the Trinity, and the one and same reason for the power and equality of the same; the mystery of the incarnation of Thine Only-begotten Son; the power and efficacy of the Holy Spirit, which lacks nothing; the sincere, genuine, and salutary gain of the faith; the way of true knowledge of God; and the usefulness of ordering one's whole life according to God’s commandment, and the blessed recompense that shall be given a little later."
Having heard these things, Paul sprang up from the ground,
A as if raised by some machine, by the voice of the virgin. Standing between pleasure and amazement, he himself prayed in this way: "If I should attempt, O Master, to discover a gift of thanksgiving worthy of Thy loving-kindness, it would be extremely difficult and laborious. For what speech could attain to Thy goodness, Thy gentleness, Thy power, or Thy wisdom, by which Thou hast established and dost hold together all things, and, in a way surpassing speech, dost order them; providing also Thy care and providence for the whole of creation in common, and for us each one individually? I give thanks, B however, as much as human capacity allows, to Thee for the so unexpected and wondrous salvation of Thy servant Thecla, and that Thy gift has appeared more quickly than my request, and that the distress of my perils and labors for her sake has not been fruitless. For behold, through my afflictions and bonds and blows, here has been added to Thee a martyr, and a disciple, and a little later, an evangelist. For it is by Thy good pleasure that this ear of virginity has sprouted, which I know well will produce for us ten thousand virgins as fruit. For this grain of wheat is manifold and fertile and genuine, and altogether worthy of Thy barn." After Paul had spoken these things, everyone C turned at once from great despondency to cheerfulness—Paul himself, Onesiphorus, the virgin, and the servants of Onesiphorus—so that they partook of both drink and food, and there was nothing at all lacking for the enjoyment of spiritual gladness. And while they were still eating those things which the necessity of the time had provided (for these were vegetables, and bread, and water for drink), Thecla said to Paul: D "I have been saved, O Paul, through thee, and I have attained to the life and faith which is in Christ; but I believe that it is no longer safe for me to be separated from thee and to inhabit this city, for how much impiety and boldness it contains, thou hast surely learned—not by hearsay, but by experience itself. I shall therefore follow thee, having shorn off the greater part of this girl-like and deceptive hair, so that we might more easily avoid those who watch and those who are overly curious about such things. For the changed appearance of my body will cause to be shadowed, I think, whatever thou claimest resides in my form of beauty." Paul said, "I would wish this, but I fear the time, and thee much more: the former, as it abounds with a great license of licentiousness; as for thee, because of such beauty of face and a youthfulness so great that those who see thee, even if they should desire otherwise, will be unable to remain at peace. Take heed, therefore, that another war does not arise for us again, perhaps even fiercer than this preceding one, and that it might unsettle thy mind—being, as it is, prone to succumb and be betrayed by that womanly nature and weakness. For this war is difficult for men to master, let alone for women, and for maidens who have just stepped out from their bridal chambers and sleeping quarters." "But nothing of the sort," Thecla replied again, "will befall me. For God, who brought me aid in the pyre, [will provide] aid...
in other dangers as well, even should the adversary weave more complex snares against us; only grant me, too, Master, the seal in Christ. For, armed with this weapon, I shall no longer be afraid; I shall be seen to be above every temptation and every demon. Only grant me the seal in Christ. B Therefore, since it is decreed for you, he says, these things shall be; for the present you will be my companion on the journey, but if you wait a little while, you will also attain the grace of holy baptism, which alone is the power of salvation, security, and faith, unconquerable for those who have put their trust entirely in Christ and are confident." And having said this, he immediately set out on the journey, having reclaimed Onesiphorus, together with his children, and sent them off to his own city and home. And thus the events at Iconium came to their end, events which indeed transcend the limits of human nature, C but which are not, however, alien to divine power. But as for Antioch (I speak of the Syrian Antioch, the beautiful and the greatest, and the first of all... [to receive] this excellent and blessed name of being called Christian).
NOTES OF PETRUS PANTINUS
D ...of the seal, as the Latins generally call it, a triple significance in the ecclesiastical writers of both languages, beyond those common and vulgar ones, I recall observing. And first, indeed, concerning the forming of the Lord's cross, by which Christians from the very cradles of the Church, according to apostolic tradition, as the author Anastasius, Bishop of Nicaea, [q] is in sacred Scripture, were accustomed to sign themselves for all their actions, sicknesses, dangers, terrors, and other matters of importance, it shall suffice to have brought forward one example of each. Greg. Nazianzen, in his oration *Against Julian the Apostate*, relates that he, at a certain time when consulting the demons about the future, being terrified by fearsome spectres, fled to the cross, that ancient remedy, and signed himself with it, and adds: "The seal prevailed; the demons are overcome, the fears are dissolved." Tertullian, *De corona militis*, c. 3: "At every step and movement, at every coming in and going out, in dressing and shoeing, at the baths, at the tables, at the lights, at the beds, at the seats, in whatever activity we occupy ourselves, we mark our foreheads with the sign of the cross." In addition to this, since in the sacrament of the bath, especially before the immersion itself, there is a frequent use of forming the cross (and as often as it was used in such a matter among the Greeks, these words were uttered: "Seal, the gift of the Holy Spirit"), hence it came to pass that it was accepted for baptism itself, as in the present place, and on page 122. The same Nazianzen, in his *Oration on Baptism*, says: "We call the seal a conservation and a sign of lordship." Concerning these, see at greater length the scholiast Nicetas. Tertullian, in his book *De spectaculis*, c. 4: "Lest anyone should think to argue against us, I shall turn to the principal authority of our Seal. When we have entered the water, we profess the Christian faith in the words of its law; we testify with our own mouth that we have renounced the devil, his pomp, and his angels." Thirdly, that it is used for the sacrament of Confirmation or perfection—which the Greeks call *bebaiosis* (confirmation) and *teleiosis* (perfection)—learned men collect from Dionysius the Areopagite (to omit meanwhile St. Ignatius, Justin Martyr, Cyril of Jerusalem, and others), in his book *On the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy*, chapter 2. He says that the baptized person, now having put on the garment suitable for the initiated, is again presented by his sponsor and guide before the pontiff, and adds: "But he, after he has sealed the man with the most deifying ointment, renders him a participant in the most sacramental Eucharist." Then, in chapter 4, explaining himself more fully, he says: "But also to the one who has already been initiated, he says, into the most holy sacrament of regeneration which is in God, the finishing anointing of the ointment grants the arrival of the divine Spirit." Cyprian, in his epistle to Jubaianus: "Which is also now done among us, that those who are baptized in the Church are brought to the presidents of the Church; and by our prayer and the imposition of hands, they obtain the Holy Spirit, and are finished with the divine Seal." Besides this triple notion in sacred matters, perhaps a fourth could be established: namely, for that first ceremony by which he who was to be baptized, after having promised before the pontiff that he would henceforth do everything according to the Christian duty, the same pontiff, by placing his hand on his head and signing him, commanded the priests to record the name of the man and his sponsor in the registers, or, as it itself has it, clearly as if those rites were only as it were a kind of preparation for receiving the sacrament of baptism itself; or at least that one part alone of this sacrament which was performed before the sacred washing itself. And thus perhaps that place which is in our text on page 264, and which is on page 205, may be reconciled: which otherwise might be difficult to do. And indeed he places it sealed page before and after.
A And the blessed name was obtained, so that at the beginning they might be called Christians in that place; but not that other one, which is neighbor to the Pisidians and Lycaonians; although the Pisidians wish it to be so, they were far off, and already approaching the gates: there happened to Paul that which from the beginning had made him anxious. For they had not yet fully presented themselves to the gaze of those who were lingering at the city gates, when immediately the beauty of Thecla, like lightning, revealed itself and, falling upon the eyes of Alexander, inflamed and scorched him entirely; so that the man was no longer able to resist, nor for even a small amount of time to delay this evil; but like rabid dogs, or men agitated by an evil spirit, he suddenly leapt upon that virginal and most chaste body. For that disease of lovers begins, so to speak, from the eyes, but sliding into the soul itself, the plague drives even a man of mature judgment and temperance into sheer madness and frenzy. B Now this Alexander was by birth a Syrian; but being noble and wealthy, he was at that time prefect of the beautiful city of Antioch, acting as the supplier to it of every pleasure and delight. Whence also the greatest power of the city depended upon him. For by nature every populace is a fickle and inconstant thing, and measures happiness by things that delight and drive them into insane pleasures, rather than being satisfied by men who provide useful and profitable things; and they admire most those who incite them into every intemperance and lust. C But the populace of Antioch has something more of this soft affection of mind than others; and if anyone provides them with spectacles and delights of that kind, he is truly considered by them to be an admirer of the city, of its glory, and of the people. For all these reasons this Alexander, so brilliant and renowned, as soon as he saw, as soon as he beheld D the virgin with eyes that were neither chaste nor temperate, was captivated by the charms of the girl; and he approaches Paul as if he were a pimp and a procurer for the girl for whom he was insanely burning, using a certain order in a matter that admitted neither order nor moderation, and he loads him with many prayers and promises. At length, frustrated in his hope, when Paul asserted that the woman did not pertain to him at all, and that indeed he did not even know for certain if she was a woman, he began to attempt Thecla with greater force. He embraces the virgin and violently compels her, so that, lifting her voice, she cried out: "O the violence! O the crime! O the unbridled tyranny! O the shameless and brazen intemperance! For even though I have fled to this city as to a harbor and haven of chastity, I am experiencing waves of indecency more savage than those in it. For I am a stranger and unknown."
yet I am not without a country, nor am I obscure or ignoble. For I possess an illustrious city, Iconium, a splendid lineage, and wealth that is not small. But because I have scorned marriage and a brilliant bridegroom, Thamyris, and for the love of temperance and virginity, I serve Christ with the most blessed servitude, which is better than any freedom, for this reason I have been cast out and driven from the city. For I do not, as you suppose, wander here and there for filthy loves that befit you, peddling my beauty and offering it for sale to those who desire it. Far be it from me! Nor would I so dishonor God, my protector, nor would I so forget those covenants that I promised to God, that I should be false in the agreements made for me with Him through Paul. B Therefore, offer no violence to the stranger; offer no violence to the handmaid of God." For I could not use words more charged with passion than those of the martyr herself. But even as she cried out and pleaded suppliantly in this way, Alexander nevertheless sought to inflict violence upon her. The virgin, having dared and devised a plan more courageous than is common for a woman, tears away his chlamys—that arrogant and attention-grabbing garment—and removes his bright, gold-wrought, and translucent crown, and sets it up as a trophy before all. In which place a shrine worthy of the virgin has been built, which preserves to this day the image of this deed and proclaims and testifies to such a victory. For anyone who approaches and looks at the place and the temple at once comes into the memory of those things that were done there then, and he seems to behold again Thecla winning, and Alexander naked, defeated, and mocked. And I think this place will pass on the fame of the deed to all time. C Since Alexander had been insulted, therefore, and had failed in his hope, he was borne toward contrary dispositions of soul, namely of desire and hatred, and being distracted by anger and love, he hesitated as to what he ought to do, shifting back and forth, now to this thought and now to that. At last, however, he rushes to the tribunal and delivers Thecla to judgment, not so much overcome by anger as having despaired of obtaining the fruit of his obscene lust. For otherwise, he would have ignored and disdained this mark of insult, and even one far more grave, if only, after receiving it, he could have possessed the love that had evilly seized him. But now, the cruel and indomitable mind of the maiden made the enemy more hostile; not only because he had been treated injuriously, but also because he had been held in contempt and completely mocked in regard to that for which his wicked desire burned. The virgin, therefore, when brought to judgment, rejoiced within herself, and she already called that judgment a victory and an addition to the contests of martyrdom; D but fearing Alexander, lest he should seize her when she was deserted and alone, and carry her off by force from the virginity for which the whole peril was being incurred, she asks a favor of the judge: not that she might not suffer some of the forbidden terrors, but only that she might remain chaste, and be kept pure from the defilement of fornication. For as much as she was unconcerned about cowardice in the face of dangers,
A she was the more solicitous about guarding her virginity. And for this, the divine providence was present, B stirring up and urging one of the women present there (for the reputation of Thecla had gathered many there), a certain Tryphaena—for that was the woman's name—to this matter; and doing so in an ineffable way, as is its wont in difficult and perplexed affairs to provide ways and means of extrication to those who have fallen into such necessity. To this Tryphaena, therefore, illustrious by her kinship to the king and proud of her wealth, and withal deeply devoted to virtue as it pertains to the honesty of life and character, Thecla is entrusted, and by her she is received. And this she did, partly out of commiseration for the virgin, because she was being so tyrannically and injuriously required to suffer punishment for the sake of her chastity, and partly also because she desired through her companionship to solace the loss of her daughter, who had died not long before and whose name was Falconilla. But when one day had passed, Thecla was led forth by Alexander to suffer the punishment to which she had been condemned at the beasts; and Tryphaena followed, no longer enduring to surrender to the will of those who wished it one who had once been entrusted to her. Then something insolent occurred, and a deed truly worthy of a divine sign. For the lioness, which they believed to be most ferocious, having been bound to Thecla, abandoned the character of her own nature, and like a handmaid, as if she had been nurtured with the girl in previous times, sat by the virgin, wagging her tail around her feet, and fawning in the manner of a dog; meanwhile, I suppose, guarding her teeth, lest by any means, even if involuntarily, she might wound or inflict any injury upon the evangelical feet of the martyr. This struck the whole city with amazement and filled all who watched with silent wonder. C But the female sex could not contain itself (for as it is easily carried away toward joyful things, so it is stirred to affliction at a light moment), but rather cried out against the things that were rashly attempted against the martyr: not that she was held by them as a martyr, but only because they were moved by the case of a woman who was suffering pitiable things, and who, beyond all reason, was paying the penalty for chastity and holiness, and finally for the fact that she had not surrendered her body to lust and intemperance. And when that mission of the beasts had finally been concluded, and the clamor of the women had ceased, D Tryphaena took Thecla back with her, no longer out of pity and compassion alone, but also for the sake of the miracle itself, and what she had seen in her vision during the night. For when evening had already fallen and Tryphaena had gone to sleep, Falconilla appeared and seemed to say such things to her mother: "The greater part of your mourning for my sake, Mother, I urge you to abandon, and not to weep in vain, nor to wear out your own soul with lamentations. For you will not benefit me through these, and you will destroy yourself along with me. Entreat, therefore, Thecla who dwells with you, who has become your child in my stead, to make some intercession for me before God, so that I may obtain humanity and a serene countenance, and be translated to the place of the just; for indeed, the miracle of Thecla is already being spoken of as great, in view of which...
she battles so brilliantly and bravely for Christ. A Having said these things, Falconilla seemed to vanish instantly; for such is the nature of a dream, to appear unseen, to show and speak things that are faint and ambiguous, and to fly off again secretly. Tryphaena rose up at these things described, and was at once B pleased and moved to tears; the emotion arising in part from the sight of her daughter, and in part from the memory of Thecla, that source of joy. She spoke to the virgin who was also sleeping not far away: "My child," she said, "child given by God, since God led you here and cast you into these arms of mine, so that you might in some way lighten this my calamity and render the soul of my daughter Falconilla intimate to Christ, and through your intercession supply that which was lacking to her from faith—entreat and pray to the King Christ that the grace given to you by Him may grant my daughter rest and everlasting life. For Falconilla herself beseeches you of this through the vision that appeared to me this night." C When Tryphaena had said these things, the virgin, as one always having her soul ready for prayer and always inclined to appease the Divine—and at the same time having perceived both the reasonableness of the request and the one who asked it—hastened to this without delay. Raising her sacred and most pure hands to heaven, she spoke thus to God: "O Christ, King of the heavens and of those after the heavens and of all above the heavens, and Son of the great and highest Father, You who granted even to me both to believe and to be saved, and who caused the light of Your truth to shine upon me, and who deigned to let me suffer for You, grant also to Your handmaid Tryphaena that her desire concerning her daughter may be fulfilled; and her passion, that her soul may be numbered with the souls of those who have already believed in You, and that she may enjoy the life and luxury of paradise; this to her also..."
D PETRI PANTINI NOTAE. (9) *That the soul of Falconilla, having died without the sacred laver and faith, was saved by the prayers of Thecla, is a narrative disapproved of by some; it is sustained, however, by the authority of Damascene, in his Oration on those who have departed from this life in faith, in which these words appear: "Did not the prince of martyrs [Thecla] save Falconilla after death?" But perhaps you will say that, by that very name, as she was a prince of martyrs, it was deserved that this be obtained, and that her prayers were heard. To which I respond and ask: For whose sake were these prayers of hers instituted? Surely for a Gentile, a devotee of idols, and one entirely unholy and a worker for an alien master. Metaphrastes also proves this, in whose account Thecla uses these words to God regarding the same matter: "O God, Son of the true God, grant by Your will that her daughter may live with You in eternal time." And indeed, the whole matter can be defended by the tenets of theologians by positing that the soul of Falconilla had not yet been consigned to perpetual condemnation; and that the supreme Judge of all, having foreseen the most fervent prayers to be poured forth by St. Thecla for her perpetual preservation, allowed Himself to be moved, and deferred the sentence of particular judgment; having designated in the meantime a place where she might be kept until that time should arrive. Nor is this very surprising. For God is of such freedom, and all created things are so fully subject to His power, that according to the amplitude of His majesty, He can decree anything concerning them by His own right. This is the doctrine of St. Thomas, Richard, Durand, and others, lib. iv. Sentent., distinction 45, question 2, article 2. Nor is that passage of Ecclesiastes, chapter xi, verse 3, opposed to this: "If the tree fall to the south, or to the north, in what place soever it shall fall, there it shall be." Because that speaks of the ordinary mode of divine justice, not of that which is positioned outside the order in the free mercy of God. See Sixtus Senensis, *Biblioth.* lib. vi, adnotat. 47 et 311.
A for my sake, Master Christ, pay the reward. Behold, for as You see, she has become the guardian of my virginity; she has stood by me after your servant Paul; she has delivered me from the frenzied madness of Alexander; she has refreshed me in her own bosom after the terror of the beasts. For, though she is a queen, she has humbled herself for me, on account of my desire and fear of You. For all these things she asks this, this she desires: to obtain some repose for her only and beloved child."
While Thecla was praying such things and to such effect, Tryphaena uttered a tearful, mournful, and piercing cry; she no longer lamented the death of her daughter, but henceforth wept for Thecla, as one who would a little later herself become prey to the beasts, along with such beauty of body and such great wisdom. While Tryphaena was in this state, Alexander arrived, intending to take Thecla and lead her to the hunt, as everything for this had been prepared, and the spectators had already occupied the theater, were in an uproar, and were blaming the delay of time. "For the governor is sitting," he said, "and the crowd is in an uproar; give her to me, that I may lead away this fighter of beasts." B When Tryphaena was stung by these words and inflamed, she cried out bitterly and mournfully, so that Alexander was turned to flight.
"Woe is me," says Tryphaena, "for this second and far more bitter grief of mine! How calamities, one succeeding another, have overtaken me, and for me there is no resource for help or consolation! For I am childless and bereft of kin, unhappy in my widowhood, and I am hemmed in on all sides by helplessness. But yet, I think I have found a path in these hopeless straits and in such a multitude of difficulties. For I must now flee to the God and helper of Thecla. Therefore, O God of Thecla, who didst proclaim to me also Your power, and who didst point out the true and straight path of Your commandments and of piety, appear even now to Your servant Thecla, and assist her while she is in danger, and show to us all how good it is truly and doubtlessly to be in danger for Your sake and in Your name. For if she obtains some help now, there is no one who will not run to Your kingdom."
While these things were still being said by Tryphaena, some soldiers from the city arrived, sent by the governor, having been ordered to take the maiden by force. Tryphaena, being unable to resist, and yielding to the force, did not even then let go of the maiden; but laying hold of her hand, she departed with the soldiers, filling the marketplace with mourning and lamentation, and, as if she were now lamenting over a corpse, she was beating herself and crying out over Thecla, and uttering such things as these: "O the wickedness of the demons! How insatiably have they used these calamities against me! For I, the unhappy one, was the mother of one child; but behold, as you see, I am performing the funeral of a second daughter. And the very
A dead Falconilla I committed to the tomb according to the law; but as for this Thecla here, though she is still alive and has committed nothing worthy of the punishment of death, I am departing to deliver her to the jaws of wild beasts, so that she might not be given over to corruption and shameful prostitution and defile the soul along with the body. Oh for the violence! Oh for the tyranny! Oh for the city of the Antiochians, which is about to be filled with such filth and stain! B Stung by these words and suffering most intensely in her soul, Thecla shed fountains of tears and, raising a sharp and piercing cry, she herself also employed such words toward God: "My God and my helper, in whom I have placed all my hope and confidence, I have abandoned my country, neglected my mother, and spurned marriage; now look upon me and consider those things acting against me, and snatch me from these terrible beasts, just as you once delivered me from the all-devouring fire! Render a fitting reward to your servant Tryphaena for the labors she has undertaken on my behalf. For you see how, in order that she might be pleasing to you and might preserve me a virgin, she endures every disgrace, insolence, and outrage. For through her and her sympathy for me, I have neither fallen from my virginity, nor have I been overcome by the madness of Alexander against me, and I contend alongside temperance, which is dear to both you and me, caring little for the beasts, since I have obtained you as my defender from heaven, and her as my guardian on earth. C This, too, is a part of your providence for me: that in the midst of these turbulent and savage surges, you grant me a harbor that might receive me out of this great tempest of beasts." She had finished praying, and behold, on every side, great fear hung over [all]: from the beasts themselves, from those inciting the beasts with the lashing of whips and with noise, from the tumult of the people, from the clamor of the assembly, and finally from the wailing and shrieking of the women. For they too were present in the theater, and they debated among themselves concerning the virgin. For those to whom lasciviousness and intemperance were agreeable and pleasant, they rejoiced in the misfortunes of Thecla; but those to whom D temperance and honesty were dear, they mourned marvelously over what was being done and pitied the city for its calamity, as though it were about to suffer7 some public evil immediately for such a great crime of murder. And many were even of the mind and readiness to perish together with Thecla; so terrible did they find the dreadful and paradoxical nature of the calamity. But when all were in suspense and were gaping at the unusual nature of this spectacle, the virgin was brought in, having been removed from the hands of Tryphaena and stripped of her garment, so that this, too, might be something of an irritant to the lions toward their rush against her; for the bright surfaces of bodies are naturally accustomed to attract the eyes of wild beasts. Thus, then, this having been prepared, the bitter lioness was once again released against her, so that the theater was filled with lamentations and tears because of this.
A But the noble creature showed the manner of a most excellent handmaiden. For not only did she refrain from the sacred and most holy body, as if from a mistress, but, having lain down before her virginal feet, she provided her security against the rest of the beasts. For the she-bear that had attacked her, bolder than the rest, she killed and destroyed instantly; and she joined battle with a lion that was attacking her more ferociously, and, having become intertwined with it, she perished with it. This filled the spectators with much grief, for the lioness who had been her ally had been removed from the scene; for they were not able to perceive at all that this was a divine sign, but thought it was the action of the beast's nature. For while it was wonderful also that the lioness in the first instance did not touch Thecla, it is more wonderful that she even defended her. B For beasts are always beasts, and possess the nature that they possess; but it belongs to God to change them however He wishes, and to restrain their impulses; and to provide them as gentle and obedient to the saints, while to those who are otherwise, He renders them savage and inhuman. A similar thing occurred regarding the fire at Iconium; or if you wish, also regarding Babylon and the three children. For that fire was truly burning, all-consuming, and deadly; for this is the nature of fire; but having been commanded by God, it provided the effect of dew and dewy air to them and to her. And Daniel, whom they say was the Hebrew youth once locked in with the lions, escaped safe and unharmed by those beasts. This was not because the nature of the beasts wished it, but because the power of God brought it about. But among the Babylonians, where that miracle occurred, this alone happened: namely, the youth was not destroyed; here, however, there was even a war between the beasts themselves on Thecla’s behalf; such, therefore, was the exceeding greatness of the miracle among us. C When this attempt had also been proven futile, they released a multitude of many and wilder beasts against Thecla; yet the mind of the martyr was not occupied so much with the fear or the roar of the beasts, as it was wholly concentrated upon prayer; and I believe she used certain such words as these, praying silently and within herself: "Great is my thanks to You, O Master Christ, for this Your will and purpose concerning me; that while I was a maiden, and still living in the bridal chamber, [and not even known to most of my servants, and occupied with loom and distaff,] kept for marriage and for Thamyris, You brought me forth into the midst through Your Paul, and deigned to grant me again through him Your seal and grace; and You let me taste of the labors and dangers endured for Your sake: in Iconium through fire, and here through these many and savage beasts; and You have set me a public spectacle; not despising my salvation, but exercising my faith in You. D And as for the thought of the martyr, not so much about the terror of...
these torments and brands which You have deigned that I undergo for Your sake, I offer You thanks, albeit in a manner unworthy, yet as one deemed worthy of suffering and bearing marks for Your sake. But since I still see the adversary as great and heavy, and ever increasing the dangers against me with new additions, and I fear lest, being by nature weak and already worn out by sufferings, I might grow numb to the remainder of the contest and remain unfinished and uncrowned, and—what is more grievous—fall from Your kingdom, if it seems good to You, relieve me now by death, and by the baptism of death dissolve for me this fear, and for these [torments] dissolve the labor directed against me. For if I depart from life, they too will necessarily put an end to the violence and tyranny they exercise against me.
These words, as is probable, having been spoken, and turning towards the things suddenly presented to her, she beheld a reservoir B and water, and seals swimming therein—beasts, and indeed sea-beasts, plagues to human life, and these themselves prepared as it were for the punishment of Thecla; and having briefly called upon Christ, and having spoken thus: "In Your name, O Lord, I am baptized on this last day," she leapt into that water, blazing with the desire to consummate life through death and to be dissolved unto Christ.
Now, if anyone would wish to call this a "mystical baptism," as a thing devised by the martyr in a time of dangers and in the helplessness of the situation, let him call it so; and there is no grudge against the ancient writer for using such a novelty of words, even if the law of our faith does not admit it. But upon this act being performed, the whole populace raised a clamor, and abominated such an absurd and deadly boldness, because she had so rashly and inconsiderately cast herself headlong into the water, from which, on account of those seals, manifest death threatened her. C
* * *
PETRI PANTINI NOTES. (10) "If anyone would wish to call this a mystical baptism." This whole passage, all the way to those words, was absent from our exemplar. And indeed, theologians would not admit that a washing of this kind should be considered as anything other than a baptism of desire, as they call it. Yet the Metaphrast favors and confirms this reading and sense, who, treating of this very matter, represents Thecla as saying, "Now is the time for me to be washed"; and soon after, using the same words which our author reports, she leaped into the strait. Moreover, that which is in the same Metaphrast seems to pertain to this, in that when Thecla had arrived at Myra to Paul, she relates to him as a thing unknown that she had obtained the washing. Nor does either Basil or the Metaphrast anywhere indicate by so much as a word that Thecla was afterwards baptized by anyone else; but only that she had been signed by Paul beforehand, and that, too, before she had already leaped into the water. Regarding which matter, see note 7. As for the reasons why no one can truly baptize himself, see both the theologians and the canon law, lib. Decretal., tit. 42, C. Debitum. In which chapter, however, it is added: that a Jew in a state of necessity, immersing himself in water and using the words of the form, if he had immediately departed, would have straightway flown to the heavenly fatherland on account of the faith of the sacrament, even if not on account of the sacrament of faith; if, however, he survives, he is to be baptized anew by another.
Yet the virgin embraced this most willingly, A provided only that she might end her life in Christ. The people, however, as I have said, following such a rash and dreadful act with pity, bedewed the spectacle with tears. But not even in this way was the martyr neglected by God. For suddenly a heavenly fire shone round about, and falling into the waters, it stripped the beasts of their own power to act, while it covered Thecla, who was naked, and afforded her the benefit of a bridal chamber. But not even when these divine signs occurred did any shame or fear enter the shameless Alexander; rather, like a violent whirlwind raising waves upon waves, he introduced another multitude of beasts to the multitude of beasts, and endeavored with all his zeal to conquer him who was altogether unconquerable: for who has ever known anyone to conquer God? Yet he remained oblivious to his own defeat. For the women who were present at the spectacle, out of the greatest pity for Thecla, or perhaps moved by God, countered with a plan of their own. Bringing a great quantity of aromatics and perfumes, and vaporizing them over a fire, they soothed the beasts with the variety of the scent and lulled them into a deep sleep, B so that Thecla found herself in the midst of many beasts, yet enjoying at that time great freedom from fear. For God is not accustomed to rush against those who recklessly commit impious acts against Him with the whole force of His power; but He is accustomed to overcome those who desire to be greatly powerful with gnats, frogs, flies, locusts, and others of that kind, making the destruction of those who seem elevated and godless a matter of play rather than of earnest effort. And so it happened here as well. And even when this was the case, Alexander was all the more impudent. “For I have,” he said to the governor, “bulls that are savage and exceedingly furious; if you but order her to be bound to them, we shall quickly see an end to this punishment.” C The governor, having heard this, gave his consent, though unwillingly, showing on his countenance the grief that he felt at the matter. Alexander, in addition to the natural ferocity of the bulls, devised fire by means of certain burning stakes, which he applied to the underbellies of the bulls; yet he failed to realize that he would be overcome even by this means. For the fire destroyed the bulls and burned the bonds, and set the virgin free from her fetters, without so much as touching her. Thus, the device that was so clever turned out to be the opposite for its clever architect and plotter against the wisdom and power of God. And when this threat had come to such an end, Tryphaena, fainting both from the length of time and from the magnitude of the grief she felt at the tribulations of Thecla, lost consciousness and, D suddenly collapsing, was carried from the theater to the Abaci—for there was a place so called, the Abaci. This filled the entire city with much fear and terror (for the evil was immediately noised abroad), and the judge with extraordinary dread. But Alexander, struck with amazement and trembling,
and having fallen prostrate upon the ground, used these words to the governor:
"I am outraged, most excellent governor, and my body has been assailed with insult and ignominy by this person—whether woman, or goddess, or evil demon; for I have no other name to apply to this strange and monstrous beast, which has proven itself more shameless than all those beasts. For she has suffered nothing harmful from them, which it was natural to expect she would suffer; perhaps by some magic, or by some other higher art and rite, she has overcome a nature so wild and untamed. Let her, however, depart hence; let her be cast out of the city; let her be carried off to others; let her go away, and give a specimen of her nature, which is so strange and novel, among others. For no slight terror, most admirable of governors, has shaken and agitated this city, because, on account of this very beast-fighter, Tryphaena has perhaps died. If she is indeed dead, and this becomes known to her kinsman, Caesar, it is all over with me, and it is all over with this city; and you also will be in danger, for having disregarded so great and cruel a tragedy. If therefore you trust me, cast her out of the city; and let us provide for the safety of this royal woman, if indeed we have any reason, and any care for our own salvation."
Moved by this speech, and at the same time rejoicing that he was freed from so iniquitous and violent a judgment, the governor had Thecla called nearer to him and asked who she was, and by what art she had at last overcome the beasts: perhaps because he had fallen into suspicion and a thought that was not decent, nor worthy of Thecla. For to men who dwell in ignorance of the divine Being, and of the power which God bestows upon those who lead a religious life, even the miracles of the saints are held in suspicion. For they do not think that these things proceed from God, or that they are reflections of a pious soul, but rather the results of juggling incantations and magical art, always judging our actions by their own wickedness.
But the matter stands otherwise. For a magician, when he plots some new and unusual thing, first has recourse to human sacrifices, and the slaughter of animals, and other impurities of that kind: otherwise, without the aid of such a detestable rite, he could never accomplish any of those insolent and unaccustomed things. And if anyone has known Apollonius of Tyana the Cappadocian (that we may bring forth a more illustrious example from many), from those writers who have produced in literary monuments the deeds he performed, he has certainly understood the wicked and maleficent arts of the man, and at the same time the detestable and nefarious effects; certain evocations of the powers above, and leadings forth of souls, and secret acts of impiety; so that he was neither eagerly received by the Gymnosophists among the Ethiopians and Indians, but rather quickly sent away,
nes, A daemon invocations, and clandestine and wicked superstitions: so that even in Ethiopia and India he was so far from being well received by the Gymnosophists, that rather, as an impure and impious man, and by no means a philosopher, but one laboring under the excessive filth of magical deceits, he was most swiftly rejected. Who, indeed, could recount the Julians, the Ostanases [(11)], the Simons, and such a rabble of wicked men? To merely mention them is to be filled with defilement. But a holy man, adorned with a life according to God's prescription, is accustomed to accomplish what he asks of God with the greatest ease and swiftness, by prayer alone, and a few words, and not many tears. Such was that Elias, who, uttering certain small and indeed rustic words, performed great things (of the kind of which he was always a wondrous worker): for by this single saying: *The Lord liveth, in whose sight I stand today, if there shall be rain upon the earth, save by my mouth* [III Reg. XVII, 1], he closed the heaven for the space of three whole years and six months, and kept it devoid of clouds; and again he opened it, and made it rain-producing, according to his own will. Such was Moses, who by prayer alone, and the stretching forth of his sacred hands to heaven, conquered B the whole nation of the Amalekites; and, again, by ordering the sea, an element so vast and unstable, to do things contrary to its nature—for he divided it to provide a path for the people, and again brought it together—accomplished both this and that by prayer. Such was Peter, who by prayer alone and a barbarian voice both raised one from the dead [Act. IX, 40], and opened gates guarded and firmly closed [Act. XII, 8], and dissolved the chains cast upon him as if they had been melted; and who drew down Simon Magus, the widely celebrated sorcerer, who seemed to fly into heaven, back to earth, and cast him down from that very ethereal circle. And the witness to this miracle is the greatest city, Rome, the queen of cities. Such also was Paul, who shook a whole prison from its foundations and nearly brought it down [Act. XVI, 26], and raised up Eutychus who was dead [Act. XX, 9], and blinded Elymas, a man famed for sorcery [Act. XIII, 8]. By such prayers and words, therefore, similar to these, Thecla was able to prevail C over fire, and lions, and bulls, and sea beasts. Wherefore, in the following discourse, she thus addressed the judge:
“I am, as you see, a woman, young in age, a stranger, and destitute of friends: but I have God as my defender and patron, and his only-begotten Son, who exists from eternity and before eternity, and always entirely with the Father; now, however, seen upon the earth, and D
through many others, and primarily through the works of my teacher Paul. Relying, therefore, upon this Jesus and believing in him, I have overcome the many and fearsome beasts of Alexander, and the tyranny and impiety of Alexander himself. And everyone who relies upon him and believes in him with sincerity will obtain benefits equal to mine, or even greater. For he, she says—(it is perhaps better, leaving nothing out, to use the words of the martyr herself; for they are in a way more magnificent and fuller of theological sense than befits a feminine capacity)—he, she says, is the only boundary of salvation and the foundation of immortal life; furthermore, the refuge of those tossed by the storm, the rest for the afflicted, and the protection of the desperate. And to speak simply, she says, whoever does not believe in him shall not live, but will be punished with eternal death. » When the martyr had said these things, the governor, having marveled at the intensity and truly masculine courage of the maiden, and at the gravity and philosophy in her words, and being moved more by veneration than by pity, and gazing upon her with admiration rather than lamenting her condition, orders her to be clothed in her accustomed garments and to resume the attire appropriate for a grave and modest woman. B And when the garment had been brought, and the governor himself urged her with his own voice to put on the clothes, the maiden received the words with joy, and, taking them up, said: « The God, she says, who was my help when I was stripped and cast as food to the beasts, and who bestowed upon me the covering of his own light, and clothed me with his own glory in a time and appearance of such ignominy, may he also clothe you, who now rule upon the earth and have clothed me with these garments, with unending and interminable salvation at the time of the resurrection and his kingdom, and instead of these corruptible and perishable things, may he recompense you with his own immortal and eternal gifts. » As Thecla prayed these great things to God, the governor, wishing to render her more honored and illustrious, employed C these own words and language toward the people of Antioch: « What this Alexander of ours, O men of Antioch, has brought against this maiden as a charge and accusation, is, as it would appear, neither credible nor true, but furthermore, it is nothing at all. For it is not right that we make his anger a judge of her life and conduct rather than the great miracle of the events that occurred just a short while ago. For what we have all publicly witnessed is both great and marvelous and truly worthy of divine signs. For that she was cast to那么多 beasts, and such ferocious ones, that we who were sitting in the higher places and watching were often struck with horror, yet she departed unharmed and inviolate—is this not, even to those who are excessively irrational, a manifest sign that some God from heaven is truly shielding and fighting on her behalf, on account of her life of temperance and the modesty and holiness appropriate to maidens born of an honorable station? You saw, therefore, just now, how even in the midst of
A wild beasts, she stretched her hands to heaven and drew from thence help against the beasts themselves. And what beyond all else filled me with sheer amazement and great trembling was how some of the beasts did not approach her at all, while others that did approach fulfilled the need of a suppliant and one who is afraid, crouching down and fawning at the maiden’s feet; and how those that rushed to harm her were destroyed by the beasts near them and of their own kind. It was then that this hunting arena, and indeed the whole city, was filled with that great cry and wailing that reached even to the very sky, owing to such a great and marvelous miracle, which happened beyond human nature. Why then do we not send her away with the fitting acclamations, as one who is venerable, temperate, and modest, and a servant of God, as the cause for this city of divine and marvelous miracles; and so that the women among us, having been instructed by her, may hold nothing more precious than temperance, even if they must deal with fire, or sword, or wild beasts? But, maiden, do not be afraid any longer; for you shall experience no more evil. For even if we should wish to bring upon you anything grievous, you would suffer nothing, armed as you are with such impenetrable and adamantine armor. Rather, go to whomever you wish, and wherever you desire; only make your God, whoever he may be, gracious and propitious toward us also." B Hearing these things, the people shouted and praised God with all sorts of blessings. Many of the women, too, running toward Tryphaena, brought her the good news regarding Thecla’s salvation, and how she had been released from the wild beasts and was hastening toward her. Upon hearing these things, Tryphaena, as if coming to life again, could be said to have revived, and she began to look around to see when and where she might see Thecla. As soon as she saw her, she clung to her tenaciously, embraced her, and finally shed tears of joy over her; and at the same time, taking her up, she spoke to her: C "I rejoice, my child, having seen you so unexpectedly saved and having escaped the trial of so many evils. And I rejoice more, not only because you were saved beyond all hope, but because I saw in you the first evidence fulfilled of the discourses concerning the resurrection, which were often spoken by you to me. For the fact that you escaped death so clearly, when it was already set before your eyes and the end of life appeared, has given me sufficient and most sure certainty; so that I am now convinced even concerning my only and beloved daughter, Falconilla, that she has truly attained what she needed through your prayer. D But come, be the heiress of all my possessions. For if you did not envy me the heavenly goods, shall I then envy you these earthly and perishable things? Come, therefore, and fulfill the place of Falconilla for me, even in the succession of my wealth; I think...
that this also is pleasing to her.” A With these words of Tryphaena, they all flew together to her house. Where, besides the discourse they held concerning joy and God, there was nothing to be seen, to such an extent that Tryphaena’s house seemed more like a church than a gathering of neighbors receiving and visiting one another. For from the hearth, so to speak, the martyr having begun the instruction, she won over to the discourse of the faith not a few, both Tryphaena herself, and the menservants and maidservants assigned to the care of Tryphaena, and recruited them for Christ through the seal. And while such enthusiasm was upon Thecla herself concerning the B
Notes of Petrus Pantinus
(12) *She reconciled them to Christ by her discourse, and by the seal.* Perhaps some might judge the deed of Thecla, in that she usurped for herself the office of teaching and baptizing, to be not immune to reproach, as being contrary to Sacred Scripture and the ecclesiastical canons established thereafter. And indeed, regarding the former, the Apostle says, 1 Cor. xiv, 34: *Let women keep silence in the churches, for it is not permitted them to speak, but to be subject, as the law also saith. If they would learn anything, let them ask their husbands at home.* And 1 Tim. ii, 11: *Let the woman learn in silence, with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to use authority over the man, but to be in silence.* To these, besides the express words of the Apostle, it is openly evident from lib. III *Constitut. Apostol.*, c. 9, that the capacity for both acts is denied to women. The fourth Council of Carthage, c. 99, also subsequently takes this away from them: *A woman, however learned and holy, let her not presume to teach men in the assembly*; and in the following chapter: *Let a woman not presume to baptize.* Likewise, Tertullian, lib. *De velandis virginibus*, c. 9: *It is not permitted*, he says, *for a woman to speak in the church; but neither to teach, nor to baptize*; and he teaches that the same is not allowed in his lib. *De baptismo*, c. 17, and lib. *De præscriptionibus advers. hæreticos*, c. 41. And Epiphanius, *hæres.* 42, refers to it as the most absurd thing that Marcion permitted women to confer baptism; and in *hæresi* 79 he asserts that it was not even permitted to the most holy Mother of God herself to baptize (which passage seems taken from lib. III *Constit. apost.*, c. 9, already cited), otherwise Christ would have been baptized by her rather than by John; and a little later, after the cited precept of the Apostle, he shows that the power of teaching was also taken away from them. These authorities, although otherwise most grave, do not seem to be taken in such a universal sense that, as Tertullian says elsewhere, the constancy of one rendering aid in an emergency is not to be excepted when the circumstance of one in peril presses. And indeed as regards the office of baptism, it is defined and proposed as a matter of faith by the general Council of Florence that it is lawful, in the event of necessity, for laypeople—whether man or woman, whether Christian or pagan—to baptize, provided the matter, form, and due intention are present. This same thing Pope Nicholas had established long before, as is contained in C. *A quodam Judæo. De Cons.* dist. 4, and C. *Romanus*, ibid. And this is that very question which Augustine, lib. II *Contra epistolam Parmeniani*, c. 13, wished to be settled by some council, although he sufficiently declares what he himself thought about the matter in lib. V *De unico baptismo*, c. 53; and it is reported in the same distinction, C. *Solet etiam quæri*. The reasoning also accords beautifully. For since neither faith nor ordination is required in the minister of baptism (as is evident from the cited passages), nor even probity (as is evident from c. *Si inter bonos, C. Baptismus talis*, and c. *Cum baptizat. De Cons.* dicta dist. 4, and many others related therein), there was no reason why it could not be duly and correctly conferred even by a pagan woman, and much more so by Thecla, especially since she was already a Christian and a most holy girl, when men fit for it were not available. Urban PP. concurs with this opinion in his letter to Vitalis, the priest of Brescia, as it is 50, *quæst.* 3, C. *Super quibus*. Sacred Scripture also supports this. For since, as Gregory bears witness, lib. IV *Moral.*, c. 2, and Augustine to Valerius *against Julian concerning marriage and concupiscence*, lib. I, c. 11, baptism is for us what circumcision was for the Jews, and Zipporah, a pagan woman, even with Moses present but hindered by illness (as some, and among them Tertullian, *lib. Adversus Judæos*, c. 3, interpret), circumcised her son—and that this was pleasing to God is proven by the fact that Moses immediately attained health: why, by the same reasoning, will women not be able to administer baptism in necessity? The canon of the Council of Carthage does not therefore stand in the way: for it must be moderated according to this rule of necessity. With which restriction the *Master of the Sentences* also cites it, lib. IV, dist. 6, and Gratian, *De confec.*, dist. 4, c. *Mulier quamvis*. Furthermore, Tertullian and Epiphanius speak of the ordinary ministry of baptizing, not of that which necessity and Christian charity demand outside of order. For Tertullian ought not to be understood otherwise, lest he seem self-contradictory here and in his lib. *De baptismo*, where, rendering the reason why it is lawful for laypeople to baptize: *Because*, he says, *what is received equally by all, can be given equally by all.* And this very reason of necessity and Christian charity shows our Thecla, because of her teaching as well, not only to be innocent of all reproach, but also worthy of praise: who, in a time so necessary, when the harvest was so great, especially among the gentiles, while the laborers were so few—nay, almost none—strove with every effort to recall those who were ignorant and, owing to the ignorance of past times, were dwelling in the densest darkness of idolatry and every impiety, to the light of evangelical truth then gradually dawning. Hence, the passages of the Apostle cited above do not contradict this deed of Thecla: since it is sufficiently clear that Paul’s intent must be grasped with this modification as well—namely, not that he forbade the divine word and the entire method of teaching to women altogether, but only that which is done in the midst of the church when men are present who can and ought to undertake it: and those words, *but to be subject*, sufficiently declare this; for to whom would they be subject if there were no men? Likewise those: *If they would learn anything, let them ask their husbands at home*; finally, also those: *Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection*; and lastly those also: *But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to use authority over the man.* From all which it seems to be concluded that women are excluded from the office of teaching only in those places where men who are able to do so are available. Thecla, therefore, taught; but where men were lacking. She taught not by authority, but by charity; furthermore, she taught not by her own impulse, but at Paul’s instigation and command; she taught, finally, with that success which to the multiplied infide-
- A lity of the citizens and the yearning of all Tryphaena—who was inflamed with desire for her, and who, moreover, added to the city’s glory—the martyr nevertheless disregarded, because she was entirely possessed by Paul, and she had no other discourse save for Paul. And she asked, “But where is Paul? Who will reveal him to me, whom Christ has given to me as a guide and an interpreter of the life and faith belonging to Him?” For she did not, by virtue of having already become glorious and famous through her miracles, despise her teacher; rather, she clung to him even more, considering within herself the source from which these things had primarily come to her: faith, her life, her miracles—and, what is greater and more glorious, the fact of having been completely harmonized and joined to Christ. “For to the one who has provided the seed, the fruits born from it must also be referred.” As she was thus anxiously and studiously searching for him, word is brought that Paul is in Myra, which is a most excellent and cheerful city of Lycia. Upon learning this, and not delaying even for a moment, she leaves Antioch, again disguising herself in male attire so that she might conceal beneath that habit the beauty that shone forth from her. For, indeed, none of these great evils could obscure that shining B light.
NOTES OF PETRUS PANTINUS
(...) conversion to the faith, God manifests that it is pleasing to Him. And by this path we easily reconcile the opinions of Tertullian, Epiphanius, and the fourth Council of Carthage, which otherwise seemed to exert force against this matter. But not only did Thecla enter this field of teaching; Martha, a teacher of the Massilians, did so; Catherine did so, having brought fifty philosophers to the evangelical truth through teaching and disputation; others did so, adorned by innumerable miracles.
(13) *In the manner of men again clothed.* This second change of clothing and attire by Thecla, which might at first sight perhaps appear suspect and at odds with Sacred Scripture and ecclesiastical decrees, can be established. For in the book of Deuteronomy, chapter xxii, verse 5, this law is laid down: *A woman shall not wear a man's apparel, nor shall a man put on a woman's garment; for all that do so are an abomination before God.* St. Thomas, in 1a 2ae, q. 102, a. 6, ad 4, provides the reason for this law: He says it was prohibited for a woman to wear male attire, or vice versa, for two reasons: primarily to avoid the cult of idolatry, for the Gentiles in the worship of their gods used various garments of this sort, of different weaves; and so, in the cult of Mars, women used men’s arms, whereas in the cult of Venus, conversely, men used the garments and clothing of women. The second reason is to avoid luxury, etc. The same author, however, in 2a 2ae, q. 169, art. 2, ad 3, has these words: It may sometimes happen without sin, however, due to some necessity, or for the sake of concealing oneself from enemies, or due to a lack of other clothing, or for something of that sort. The *Summa Sylvestrina*, under the headings “Woman” and “Attire,” agrees with this, asserting it to be altogether lawful, provided a reason exists, and resolving the contrary texts of the law. But it seems to stand in direct opposition to the canon of the Council of Gangra, which says: *If any woman, judging it to be useful to her purpose, uses male attire and for this reason imitates the male habit, let her be anathema.* And it is seen in Gratian, C. *Si qua mulier*, dist. 30. Yet it does not stand in the way: it merely warns that a change of clothing should not be done rashly based on the empty opinion of some little woman who says it is for her own benefit. For since the changing of one’s dress is in its own nature neither good nor evil, but is clearly indifferent, there is no doubt that it is lawful to adopt it for the sake of necessity or some noteworthy utility. Indeed, Tertullian, in his book *De Spectaculis* c. 23, and St. Cyprian, in his epistle to Eucratius regarding the actor, blame it only if it is used in a shameful matter or for hypocrisy. Therefore, Natalia, wife of the martyr Adrian, did rightly when, because Maximian had forbidden the entry of women to men condemned in prison, she assumed male clothes, in order that she might be thought a man, be let in, and minister what was needed to the saints. Theodora, too, rightly did the same at Antioch, so that she might protect her modesty. Similarly, Eugenia, daughter of the proconsul Philip of Alexandria, and Marina and Euphrosyne, Alexandrian virgins illustrious in holiness, clad in the habit of men, departed for a monastery of men; and Pelagia of Antioch, having left behind the pleasures of the world, went to desert places. What has been said concerning the change of clothes is to be thought said regarding the cutting of hair. Nor does the Apostle oppose this when he says in 1 Corinth, c. xi, verse 5: *Every woman praying or prophesying with her head uncovered disgraces her head; for it is one and the same as if she were shaven. For if a woman is not covered, let her be shorn; but if it is disgraceful for a woman to be shorn or shaven, let her cover her head.* For in that place, the Apostle reproves women who display and sell their own sex with that unbecoming attire, or, as Clement of Alexandria interprets in his *Paedagogus*, who provoke men to shame; he does not reprove those who conceal and cover themselves for necessary causes. But what shall we do regarding the canon of the Council of Gangra, where it is provided in explicit words: *Whatever woman, judging it to be consistent with religion, has cut her hair, which God gave her as a veil and for a remembrance of subjection, as one dissolving the bonds of subjection, let her be anathema?* I would consider it was passed in detestation of the heresy of the Manichaeans, who judged marriages to be unclean and therefore perhaps persuaded wives to depart from the legitimate bed of their husbands in order to assume a religious habit and to cut their hair, and thus induced them to believe that they were exalting themselves from the subjection of men.
A For nothing of the many evils which she had suffered could darken the beauty of her face or render it worse, since in addition she had rendered it more excellent and more illustrious by the beauty of her soul. She reached Myra, therefore, a city separated from Antioch by no small extent of sea and land; yet the longing which she felt for her master lightened the labor of the journey both for her and for her companions, who were the men and maidservants of Tryphaena. When she was within the city of Myra, she found Paul himself engaged in his accustomed and cherished duty, teaching, exhorting, admonishing, and imbuing with the reason of faith his disciples, who were many of the Lycians, both men and women, all giving diligent attention to the doctrine of Paul. Standing suddenly before them and being seen, she filled them all with astonishment B and speechlessness, and Paul himself with fear. For the things concerning the calamities of Thecla which he had already known beforehand, had cast him into suspicion of other evils as well. Therefore, leading her away from the sight of those who were present (lest anyone, wounded again by her beauty, should become the cause of greater dangers for her), he inquired of her about each detail, and fully learned everything. And when he understood point by point what had happened to her at Antioch, he marveled at the maiden’s endurance, self-restraint, and manly steadfastness; he marveled also at the evident aid of the Divine on her behalf; he even offered prayers for Tryphaena, as one who had been of great help to the martyr in this struggle. And since, as is natural, great joy arose from these words, the virgin, taking up the discourse, speaks thus to Paul: C
“O teacher, the things which have been supplied to me through you and your teaching are very many indeed, and greater than I can compass in narrative. For I have known God, the King of all, and his only-begotten Son, reigning together with the Father, the Creator of all things; and the Holy Spirit likewise possessing the kingdom with the Father and the Son, and sanctifying all things, and imparting his own perfection to those who offer sacrifices; the Trinity, I say, of the same essence, of the same honor, and equal to itself, I have known through you. Through you I have known the undiffering, immutable, and co-glorious Divinity in the Trinity. Through you I have known the ineffable, inaccessible, variation-less, D and incomprehensible Power in the Trinity. Through you I have known the Trinity of the same essence, which is in heaven, above heaven, on earth, and under the earth, and everywhere, above all, and in all; in every nature and condition, I say, that can be perceived by mind and senses, visible and at the same time invisible, participant of reason and devoid of it, the Trinity of the same essence. Through you I have known the Trinity of the same essence, which is in each, in all, through all, and which fills all things and is filled by all. Through you I have known the Trinity of the same essence, neither to be grasped by the mind, nor uttered by speech, nor seen by the eyes, nor contained by hearing, nor felt by the hand, but to be contemplated by faith and worship alone. I have known through you the all-powerful, the all-seeing, the all-harmonious, the unoriginate, the
A uncreated, the timeless, the unending, the invincible Trinity, of the same essence. Through you I have known the mystery of the birth and nativity of Christ from the Virgin, and the ever-Virgin. Through you I have known the power of his miracles, of his wonders, and of his teachings. Through you I have known the cause and utility of Christ’s cross, death, resurrection, and ascension into heaven. Through you I have known the unerring and undisguised truth of the consummation, the resurrection, the judgment, and the second coming of Christ to us. Through you I have known the uncorrupted and unending happiness of the heavenly kingdom and the everlasting blessedness of the Saints. Through you I have known the state of the underworld, of Tartarus, of the fire, of Phlegethon, and of the terrors, punishments, and infinite torments which cannot be averted by any offering of gifts. Through you I have known the delights of paradise, the enjoyment free from all trouble, the feast beyond any frequency of preparation, and indeed one provided without labor and spontaneously. Through you I have known, both by word and by experience, the grace and power of the divine laver and baptism. Through you I have known the grace of chastity and virginity. Through you I have learned the usefulness of self-restraint and endurance. Through you I have learned the profit of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Through you I have learned of the crowns stored up for the sufferings, struggles, and labors endured for Christ and through Christ. Through you I have learned, once and simply put, the rewards and prizes stored up for those who love him, for all piety and life lived according to the law of Christ. These things, indeed, have come to me through you and your teaching, and there are many more than these. But if anything is missing from what has been said, add those things too and dismiss me as quickly as possible. For it is now time for me to depart and to reach my own city, Iconium. You, however, do not cease even so to pray and intercede for me, so that I may finish the course of piety up to the end without any hindrance or disgrace, and at last reach the kingdom of the heavens B and receive Christ, my King and Bridegroom, for whose sake I have suffered these things, and perhaps will suffer again, and will again win the victory. You only, O teacher, never cease to pray and to supplicate for me, your daughter. For you have begotten me in these, your bonds in Christ.»
To these things, Paul, replying, said: «Well, the state of your affairs is good, O virgin; the strength of your faith has excelled in all things, and you have already surpassed apostolical labors and courses, so that nothing more is wanting to you for the sanctioning of the apostolic office and the undertaking of preaching the divine word. Go, therefore, and teach the word, and complete the evangelical course, and come into a share of my labor for Christ. For Christ chose you through my work so that he might advance you C even to the apostolic office, and that he might entrust to you some city D not yet [Christian].
A evangelized; for you also must multiply the talents.» [alt-version omitted] After Paul had spoken such words, the martyr left behind for Paul, for the care of the poor, the wealth which she had received as a gift from Tryphaena (these were much gold and precious clothing). Adding to this, «Commend me to Christ,» she undertook the journey to Iconium. When this was completed, and she had entered the city, passing by her mother, her relatives, and her own home, she turned aside into the house of Onesiphorus, spurred on by the memory and love of that ray which had first shone upon her there—I mean the ray of faith and the knowledge of God. Having looked upon the place where Paul had even then been sitting and teaching, she fell prostrate upon it, kissed it, and as she watered the ground with her tears, she spoke in this manner: «O God, who became known to me here and from here, through both the good pleasure of your only-begotten Son and the teaching of Paul; O God, who counted me worthy through the struggle of fire, chains, and wild beasts; O God, who granted to me, when I was naked, the covering of light, and who granted the benefit of the seal and of the divine bath; who again honored me with the sight of Paul, so that I might again be strengthened by his words; who has guided me back to this my city and to this home, most dear and saving to me: grant to me and to all these, that in the future we may do what is pleasing to you and to your Son, and that I may never cease to strive for the religion and faith revealed to me by you; even if it should happen that I must contend daily with fire, wild beasts, chains, and prisons. B To me, every kind of death and danger that must be undergone for piety is more desirable than the very delights and the most sumptuous banquets of Paradise; only may I be deemed worthy to suffer for you and for your name always.» Having said these things, and having conversed a little while with her mother Theoclea (Thamyris being now dead) about the faith and manner of life according to Christ, she hastened to Seleucia.
This city is situated at the very entrance of the mountains looking toward the east; it holds the primary seat and the leading place among all the cities of Isauria; it is maritime and a neighbor to a river, C Calydnus by name, flowing from somewhere above from the innermost recesses of the Cetis, passing by many regions and cities, and on its way to us taking in other rivers that come in from the regions and places on either side, and making itself as large as we see it from that point on; finally, it ends up at us and at this neighboring sea, which stretches out towards the east and south, and separates us from the Cypriots. It is a wonderful and very pleasant city, of such D magnitude that nothing is lacking in its beauty, which is observed in the exactness of its symmetry; so ...
A bright and charming is it, that it surpasses most cities, equals others, and vies with beautiful Tarsus in its views, its location, the mildness of its air, the abundance of its fruits, the plenty of its wares, the usefulness of its waters, the grace of its baths, the splendor of its magistrates, the elegance of its muses, the cheerfulness of its people, the fluency of its orators, and the glory of those who wear the military belt. In one thing only, however, does it yield in this sharp, mutual contention, modestly submitting and allowing Tarsus the first place: that it is the native city of the great Paul, through whom it chiefly came to pass that we have possessed the holy virgin.
Having therefore arrived in this city and being pleased with it, and having taken possession of the neighboring height that rises to the south, she makes for herself a dwelling—as Elijah did on Carmel, and John in the desert. She fortifies herself against the demon Sarpedon, who had occupied the headland by the sea and had led many astray and turned them from the faith by various deceits and counterfeit oracles. She also fortifies herself against the peak B and the warlike demon Athena, who, like a vulture (14), perhaps even now, as Homer says, occupies the tower that bears her name, screeching at the local weavers and the silly little men who dwell there, and brandishing her dark aegis (15) and her fringed one (16), so that we may also mock all those inhabitants—those who follow the custom of the Athenians, dwelling on the acropolis and priding themselves on Pallas. C
After preaching the saving Word, instructing many, sealing them, and enrolling them in Christ’s army, and after having wrought many more miracles (as Peter did in Antioch and in the great city of Rome, and Paul in Athens, and D to the nations...
or as were performed by John, the most excellent theologian, in Ephesus, through which he drew all men for the most part to the faith), she did not A by any means pass away from life (as the more common and truer report maintains), but remaining alive, she entered into the earth. It, by the will of God, parted in her favor and opened itself to her in that place where the divine and holy table of the Liturgy is fixed, established within a circle of columns and shining with silver. From there, as if from a conduit of her own virginal kindness flowing plentifully, she sends forth to the needy and to those who request them, saving fountains of remedies against every pain and sickness; so that that place has become a public infirmary and a common propitiatory for the entire world. Therefore, you would never find her temple, or rather city (for it has since passed into the form, use, and beauty of a city), without B citizens and strangers, all from every side flowing into it. Some hasten there only for the sake of reverence for the place, to fulfill vows, and to dedicate and consecrate some of their own possessions to the divine one; others, however, to obtain medical treatment and help for the diseases, pains, or even demons by which they happen to be possessed. Of these, I will make mention in another work and book, if God wills and the Virgin assists. For we need much labor and time to collect and accurately recount all the miracles which are continuously performed by her to this day, of which not a few have been miraculously performed by her upon me as well. Nevertheless, no one C among those who ever sought healing or relief from hardships was sent away unheard, nor deceived by crooked or ambiguous words (of the sort common to those "most excellent" and Pythian-oracle-giving demons), nor did anyone depart having gained no healing at all, or bemoaning the reputation of the place. But all, absolutely all, obtaining something of what they ask and need, depart thus chanting praises, giving thanks, and praying well, so that they believe they have found miracles and healings greater even than what fame had proclaimed and than what they had hoped for. May it be granted also to us, O virgin and apostle and martyr—to that religious man, your nursling, who laid this duty upon me, and to me who obeys his commands and struggles now to fulfill the desire conceived in my soul long ago, to set forth your deeds in whatever way D I can—that we may have you as propitious and favorable; that you may always intercede for us before God for the things that are right, being our perpetual helper and guardian; that you may provide those things which it is lawful for us to be provided with through you; and finally, that you may secure for us from God whatever is most beautiful, most excellent, most useful, and pleasing and acceptable to you, the Virgin, and to Christ our God Himself, the Giver: to whom belongs all glory, honor, and power, now and always, and for the ages of ages. Amen.
MIRACLES OF THE HOLY PROTOMARTYR THECLA. BOOK TWO.
A PREFACE.
Since truth is the quality that best adorns praises, to whomever they may be offered, and since praises rest most of all upon two foundations—namely, a person's life and their deeds—and since we have already explained much concerning the martyr, especially in the preceding volume, nothing remains now but to show that truth attends those things we have recounted, and shines out within them. For this reason, with not a little study and labor, we have gathered her miracles that exist scattered about and have published them in a short commentary. We have not collected all of them—indeed, not even the thousandth part of the whole—but very few indeed, and only those which occurred either in our own memory or slightly before our time. Even of these, we have selected only a very few, which we were able to gather from truthful men and women, so that no opportunity may be left for readers to withhold full faith from those things which were already related by us; rather, from the miracles—both those accomplished in this present time and those performed in the past—they may take the most certain proofs of her former contests and valiant deeds. For this reason, too, in the recounting of these miracles, we have made mention of persons, B places, and names, so that regarding these matters as well there may remain no grounds for doubt; but instead, any who happen upon these pages may have at hand the means to examine the truth of what we have said.
The ministers and servants of those demons who deliver oracles, and the interpreters of Pythian prodigies—I mean those of Zeus, so celebrated at Dodona; of the Pythian Apollo at Delphi, or those who deliver their prophecies near the Castalian waters; and finally of Asclepius at Pergamon, at Epidaurus, and in these very Aegae—have written down many answers regarding oracles and remedies for diseases. Some of these are myths and fictions, the clever inventions of the writers themselves, who wish to attribute to demons some effective power, efficacy, C and foreknowledge.
A And yet, being used frequently, they are full of duplicity and ambiguity. Thus, those who consulted them were always filled with great doubt, not knowing how to avail themselves of the oracles they had received; or else, having used them, they were utterly destroyed by those very prophecies and divinations. For the entire ambition of these oracles is contained within riddles and enigmas. Because they did not rightly hit the mark of the truth, nor could they declare anything certain about the future, the oracles that those madmen poured forth were blind, tortuous, and hesitant, declining into infinite byways, so that the unhappy outcomes of events might be ascribed not so much to the demons issuing such oracles as to the men themselves, for not understanding them well. When Croesus consulted Apollo, inquiring of him whether he would be victorious over Cyrus, the king of the Persians and Medes, and already of most of Asia, and having—as was fitting—made many vows to that end, sacrificed many victims, and consecrated much wealth (inasmuch as he was aspiring to such a noble and glorious victory, intending to destroy Cyrus), what did that wonderful seer answer after all these things?
"Croesus, having crossed the Halys, will destroy a great empire." B This prophecy—whether he gave it as Loxias, that is, the "oblique-speaker," leaving the judgment to the one who received it, or as a wicked one and a traitor to his own suppliant, or as one ignorant of how and where the future would fall—certainly brought about the ruin of Croesus. For Croesus himself, having been elated by this fine oracle, crossed the Halys river with confidence, as if for a bright and manifest victory; he joined battle with Cyrus, and, being utterly crushed, he himself brought about the ruin of his own great empire. He left to that "most excellent" oracle the defense that he himself had not understood the meaning of the word—as if the god had spoken the contrary, that he should not cross the Halys river nor join battle with Cyrus, as doing so would cause the destruction of his great empire. And if any should be incredulous that these things were said by that "most excellent" Pythia and happened to Croesus, let him take the most delightful Herodotus, and let him seek from him the proof of these matters. C I omit the other oracle given to the same Croesus regarding a mule that would reign, and the whole deception by which he was mocked, only to see, a few days later, the "mule" reigning—meaning Cyrus, who was born of Cambyses the Persian, and of Mandane, the daughter of Astyages the Mede. For this was the dissimilarity of the two lineages, which that wonderful oracle hinted at, while its obscurity and ambiguity worked the deception. But the oracles of demons, to say a few things out of very many, are of this sort: deceptive, wicked, counterfeit, treacherous, guileful, having much that is murky and false. But as for the things of the holy ones, thereafter...
what are they? Truly, they are manifest, true, simple, holy, entire, and in truth worthy of God who gave them. For it is not possible for the saints to behave toward us in any other way than through the grace of Christ alone. For they themselves, having first attained this grace, likewise bestow it upon those who ask; just as certain conduits, drawing their sacred waters from some supreme and most divine fountain, pour them forth to the thirsty. Among these holy ones, the greatest witness is Thecla, who is ever present, ever visiting, hearing those in need, and always looking upon everyone with abundance: the healthy, the sick, the joyful, the sad, those traveling by water or by land; those brought into danger, and those set outside of danger; individuals, crowds, households, families; cities, peoples, foreigners alike and citizens, residents, travelers; men and women, masters and servants, the aged and the young, the rich and the poor; those in office, those in military service, those in the courts, those in war, those in peace. And she has often appeared even to the Jews, and has shown them the same power, bringing to them healing in place of advice or admonition. But to gather it into a few words, she visits all people, and through all kinds of wonders, she works miracles; and on the contrary, against all who sin and provoke her, she always exerts her power and wrath; never neglecting those who live righteously, nor sparing those who commit wicked deeds B. Sometimes she does one or the other more plainly, and through both, she always signals her gravity and her love for humanity in her works. For is it to be thought that not even when she was in the body and living among men did she define her healings, and that having departed, she has ceased? But she has joined the angels; yet she has not departed from us even now. Rather, she is in a better state, and watches over us and cares for us with greater aid. And so that we may say very few things out of a great many, come, let us speak of those things that we ourselves know for now, which are acknowledged by the many, and of which all have become witnesses, either through our own experience or having heard from those who have been healed. I shall begin with those things which she performed in particular against the demons on her own account.
THE FIRST MIRACLE
D There is no one who does not know this Sarpedonium (for the very ancient fable that is told about him, from...
historical records and books, is known to us; and some people affirm they know it, following him even still with godless worship, as has been done in ancient times). They say that he was once a stranger and an immigrant, and that, wandering in search of his own sister, he arrived by sea at these regions. Ignorant of the places and of the king then ruling there (who was his uncle, his father’s own brother, a Cilician), he was killed for having troubled and maltreated the locals, and was buried near this promontory and this shore. A Having thus acquired the name of a demon and the reputation of a prophetic seer, and for that very reason being considered a god by the foolish (for the passage of long time gives birth to many such things, which men, without applying any investigation, rashly embrace, and pursuing them with feigned fables, honor as divine), no sooner had the virgin arrived in this land and reached its borders and occupied this height, than she repressed him, commanded him to be silent, and rendered the most talkative oracle-monger utterly voiceless to this very day. By this miracle, she bore witness to her masterful and royal journey here, lest a reality, which it truly was, should be considered a dream. For all the miracles of the martyr are certain, free from falsehood, and perfect, and shall remain so. B
II.
THE SECOND MIRACLE
There was a certain woman named Aba, who was still a pagan; she neither detested the Jews nor turned away from the Christians, but drifted about, uncertain regarding everyone and everything. It happened, however, that while she had fallen by chance from a mule, she was so severely injured by that fall that her leg was afflicted, the bone being fractured, and the flesh stretched over the foot being violently split and protruding outward, so that the injury seemed henceforth to surpass every remedy, especially since it grew worse with the passage of time. C Accordingly, she was now unable to move herself at all; sometimes she was trifled with by the Jews, sometimes by these incantators, and at the same time by this excellent Sarpedonium, who promised her healing and performed certain rites, yet could accomplish nothing, just as nothing could be achieved in the end. But after the woman, whether persuaded by the advice of others or moved by her own intuition, had been carried to the temple and had, with many tears and groans, implored the martyr as a suppliant, using those tears to appease the virgin, not even three full days had passed before the woman departed, standing on her own feet; so that she no longer needed the help of anyone to guide her by the hand, but hastened home with a, as they say, D vigorous gait. But what, then, is the medicine of this healing? Certainly (since you desire to know this as well) it was neither costly, nor particularly elaborate, nor laborious, nor a boastful trick of the Asclepiads. "The dirt," says the martyr, "smeared upon my shrine, scrape off around the lattices, and apply it as a plaster to the affected part of your foot; it will immediately stop the suffering, and you shall use your feet for the purpose for which feet ought to be used." And she spoke, and she acted; and the miracle remains until this day.
testified to by her A and by those who saw her walking, running, and using her feet; and what is more, by her being made a Christian through such a miracle—such a Christian as it is appropriate for one taught by so illustrious an experience to be. For the healing of the foot produced also the health of the soul; and thus both came to exist from one and the same miracle.
III.
Let another woman come forward into our midst, and let her recount her miracle, and let her stir us all to wonder. For a certain one of the noble women of the Cetide, Bassiana by name (for this was her name), was living among us as a hostage, on account of certain pacts concluded, which promised peace from plundering, provided that it be guaranteed by the pledge of her own person. She stayed most assiduously by the martyr, and kept pleading with her continuously: partly because she was a Christian, and partly because she was seeking liberation from the necessity by which she was ensnared. B Once, in the summer season, when the sun was burning more fiercely than usual, she was spending time in the martyr's temple, according to her custom, shedding tears, chanting psalms, making vows, and doing all the other things that those who are sorrowful and occupied with prayer are accustomed to do. When night came on, and the heat intensified, she was troubled at first—as it was something she was not used to—and was at a loss, and became filled with gasping and sighs, and bathed in sweat. Sometimes she rolled about on the very pallets on the floor, always trying to heal and cool the part of her body that was suffering, and doing this quite often; C at other times, leaping up from her bed when she was already soaked through, she would press herself against the marbles, as they were cooler and able to afford her some relief. Finally, as she was overcome by the ailment (for she was also burdened by a swelling of the belly due to pregnancy, and the magnitude of the unaccustomed heat did not permit her any lack of concern for her own care), she rushed toward one of the nearby wells, which was deep and full of water, in order to throw herself headlong into it and swim across, or even drown herself; for this was to be the ultimate D end of her distress. But the martyr appeared, and taking hold of her garment, checked her impulse, having roundly rebuked her for her rashness; and calling a girl who was attending her as a maid, she said: "Bring me this basin," which the girl seemed to be carrying in her hands. The martyr took it—it was full of water—and the most gentle one dipped her finger into the water, and after agitating it, she anointed her forehead with it, and both sides of her neck where it joins the shoulders, and departed, having left it to her as if only a sweet Zephyrus were breathing upon her. Consequently, it came about that while all the others were all but scorched by the heat of the sun, she alone lived as if in the springtime, and as if in Daphne, a place planted with many trees and airy.
A Reality, not a dream. And a witness is the child who was born to her at that time—this is the illustrious Modestus, who still lives among the living today, adorning the city that takes its name from peace, and recounting this miracle along with many other graces; the man is cheerful and full of much pleasantry.
IV. B I do not think it would be unwelcome to recall the memory of this miracle, even if the martyr might perhaps blush slightly at it, though not on her own account, but rather blushing on behalf of the woman who requested the grace. For a certain woman, one of those who are deemed exceedingly fortunate, and who, both on account of her wealth and because she was married to Bytianus—a commander of the army and a man glorious for the victory won against the Persians, and otherwise very powerful—conducted herself quite magnificently. As if the husband had inflicted an injury upon herself and the conjugal bed (for the female sex is not moderately self-loving and jealous, and is very sharp at observing a husband’s ways if he happens to stray among other women, harlots), she approaches the martyr with a downcast and sad countenance, weeping, uttering dire curses and imprecations, not indeed against her spouse (for that she embraced him with the highest love, as a husband, was a clear fact), but against those slave-girls by whose excessive lust Bytianus was so maddened that he was compelled to neglect his wife for them. C What then did the martyr do? Did she disdain the supplicant’s prayers? Did she regard the woman’s importunate grief as unwelcome? On the contrary, moved in her soul by the contempt shown to marriage and by the injury inflicted by such filthy lust, she bestows this favor upon her: she suddenly corrected the husband’s manner, and changed the desire which he had immoderately felt for those [women] toward her in a becoming way—not by reshaping any member into another form or habit, worse or better than the original, but by compelling the mind of the man to gaze upon honorable things, to detest foul and meretricious loves, and to pursue zealously those things which are noble and due in marriage. D Although, what cause impelled that excellent woman, having borne so many children of such outstanding beauty and being already of more advanced age, such that she could not bear to lead a life of widowhood with the children of Bytianus, but instead, exchanging the commander and victor over the Persians for Gregory (a wandering and foreign man, a healer of horses and mules), chose to marry him and now lives with him—as for this, it is neither pious for me to say nor for you who hear it to learn.
V. [E] We must proceed again to the work of another miracle, which
in this manner: There was a wedding, and a nuptial dance, and a celebration, and the bridal chamber, as was appropriate, had been beautifully adorned, and the canopy was decorated. The ornament consisted of gold and silver, and was itself an ornament, and the clothing was as varied, delicate, and precious as could be; these things were many, and had been gathered from many people for the adornment of the bridal attire. There, a certain thief, an "Eurybatus," B set upon the chamber, and having snatched away the most excellent of the woven items, he departed. This item was a girdle, a very valuable and precious thing; for the girdle was of gold and stones; one part of it served the need of a strap, at once tightening and binding everything together; while others, in the manner of stars, shone in a circle, and others from elsewhere cast their brightness, so that the beauty was very rich, mingled from many and differently colored rays. This then, so great in beauty, he who was the villain, having snatched it away, went and buried it in a certain place, not enjoying it with a pure and clear conscience because of this wicked haul; for fear crept in, and he imagined that he possessed nothing. C
When the perception of the loss occurred, dejection immediately succeeded the nuptial dance and joy, and tears followed laughter. For the loss was not something that could be borne easily. But the martyr, who sees everything and oversees everything, as she watched the one who had snatched it away, and the others weeping, and the marriage outraged, she visited Paula (whose daughter was being given in marriage, and whose husband was Chrysermus, among the foremost of the orators of the old school). She indicated the place, and the location, and the thief; and thus she dispelled the dejection, and restored the joy appropriate to the marriage, and honored Paula as a woman who lived faithfully and acceptably before her through this miracle. D
NOTES OF PETRUS PANTINUS
(20) *A certain thief and Eurybatus.* [alt-version omitted] The last word is undoubtedly corrupt; and I know not what regarding "Eurymo," who is mentioned in the *Chiliads*, I was striving to drag in here; but plainly to drag it in. Moreover, having been consulted on these matters, the very learned D. Philippus Snevezelius thought it should be read "acutely," indeed. In place of which, however, D. Petrus Bouillius, a man of the same studies and sacred things, proposed... he thought this man to have been a devotee of Laverna; submitting, however, another conjecture, also ingenious, (that place among the Athenians where the wicked were detained), thinking that this thief could have been of that number, who were coerced in that place, that is, in the stone quarries. Such was their thought. To me, considering the matter more deeply, and observing the ancient custom of the Greeks in writing, it seems that that name can righteously be exclaimed and by the mutation of a single element the pure reading of our Basil restored, by replacing [it]. Who indeed is this Eurybatus, do you ask? Let the Byzantine Apostolius teach you (who, in my manuscript, is twice as full as the printed text) in his *Proverbs*, he says: "It is told of Eurybatus that when he was a thief, and by chance was at one time surrounded and captured, those who were drinking together with him and had captured and were guarding him exhorted him to show them how he climbed onto houses: he, however, being unwilling, begged that it not be done, but after they at last with difficulty persuaded him, having fitted sponges and spikes to himself, he ran up the walls. And they, looking up and marveling at his arts, [saw him] take the roof and, having crossed it before they could circle around, leap down from the roof." This is that infamous Eurybatus, if I am not mistaken, to whom our author alludes. There was also another of the same name, of the same wickedness, who, having been sent by Croesus to enlist a soldier, defected to Cyrus. Concerning whom see the scholiast on Demosthenes and the *Chiliades* on the proverb "to Eurybatize." Our author uses a similar image in miracle 13, using *capitanea* for "wicked."
A She also demonstrated this miracle regarding one of her own precious possessions. For someone stole one of the crosses consecrated to her, and having carried it to a certain part of the road leading from the city to her shrine, he buried it quite deeply in a thicket. The martyr made this deed an occasion for laughter at herself; as if even the most wicked thieves would not spare her, and as if it were possible to hide from her all-seeing and divine eye. At any rate, she approached one of her ministers and attendants and revealed to him both the thief and the place, and returned the holy cross to the spot from which it had been carried away. For the one who thought he possessed the cross, this alone remained: to be called a sacrilegious person.
B Ⅶ. And as for the miracle performed in the case of Pausicacus, who would willingly pass it over in silence? For even if this man was numbered among the humble and the laborers, he was nonetheless held worthy of the martyr’s miracle in the same rank as those who excel in resources, wealth, and the splendor of their name. This Pausicacus, then, having once fallen into an affliction of the eyes through either the negligence or the incompetence of physicians, recovered by the favor of the martyr the light which he had lost. It must be told, however, how this came about. For he approached the shrine, and in the small vestibule a short distance from the temple, which is called the *Myrsineon* (a vestibule which it is said and believed that the Virgin most often inhabits), he shut himself in, in a certain manner; and he did not cease his weeping and supplication (the martyr meanwhile bearing his cry patiently, so that the gravity of the affliction might grant him pardon) until he recovered what he had lost. C He recovered it, however, in this way. For as several scales, as they say, fell from the inner part of his eyes, the cloud also that had dimmed the sight of his pupils fell away, and his original light returned. And thus, those who had seen him blind for no short time, later saw him for a long time using his eyes and attending to his accustomed duties, hauling ships in the river, carrying burdens, and gathering his living from these things, just as he had done before. And the whole city of Seleucia, which was both his homeland and his city, is witness to this miracle.
Ⅷ. I must also mention this, which had almost escaped my memory. A child, having recently been weaned, was in danger of losing one of his eyes through excessive crying, to such a degree that the affliction surpassed all medical skill. His nurse took him and descended from a neighboring city, which is called Olba. Having arrived at the shrine, she remained there constantly in lamentation, prayer, and tears, offering the child to the martyr, D pointing out the corrupted spot of the eye, and entreating her not to disregard the child in so unsightly, unseemly, and shameful [a state]...
whereby the beauty of the entire aspect of his face might be destroyed; and [lest] the light, which in man is especially God’s most illustrious work, might henceforth remain half-perfect. “For what is better among our members? What is so necessary? What is more useful than eyes that are clear on every side, seeing equally, shining equally, and possessing and providing light equally for all things that are done? For even in this great heaven, if one were to take away one of the luminaries, it would affect the earth with no small harm: by removing one half of the adornment of the one, and by taking away half the light, and even the nocturnal light, of the other.” To these things the martyr B replied nothing, nor did she command this or that to be done; rather, she performed the miracle through play more than by any serious action. For something of this kind happens in the courtyard of her temple. Someone is always throwing and scattering seeds of wheat, or perhaps barley and bitter vetch, so that these may be food for the doves that feed there, or for the other birds as well. Indeed, the birds that feed there are many and varied—swans, cranes, geese, doves, and even those brought from Egypt and Phasis, which those who arrive from abroad bring and dedicate C according to their desire or the nature of their vow to the martyr. At one time this child was playing here and amusing himself, at times chasing a bird with laughter, and at other times being chased by one of the birds, so that this was a source of pleasure and laughter to those watching. And indeed, one of the cranes—as if it were being hindered from eating by the child, or rather as if it had been commanded by the martyr to do this—leaps upon the child and pierces that eye, which was already suffering and had otherwise gone dim, with its beak. The child shrieked D because of the blow; and the women who were present cried out as well, as if some great and terrible thing had happened. But the old woman, the nurse (for she was also present), almost gave up the ghost; [fearing] that the affliction had taken a turn for the worse, and that even the last remnant of hope had been extinguished. But it turned out that this was the healing and the remedy for the affliction. For the eye, having been pierced as if by a physician and a piece of iron, and having been wounded with skill, the entire thick and cloudy humor that was darkening the pupil—which one might call the eye of the eye—was drained away. This having been emptied, the child then saw for the first time, and regained the light that had been lacking in his eyes. So that his sight was in no way impaired, but he departed whole and entire, causing great wonder to the city, to his father, and to his grandfather—of whom the one is named Pardamius, and the grandfather Anatolius, who is also a priest of that church.
IX. And since we have made mention of eyes, let us by no means pass over in silence that which happened in recent times, for it is known to all of us who have also enjoyed the miracle and the healing.
A For when a pandemic of ophthalmia fell upon the city during the summer of the past year, and an abundant and acrid humour flowed down from the head into the eyes, to such an extent that there was no longer any room for healers to use their medicinal remedies to remove this evil—because the humour, flowing down, would continuously wash away the medicine placed and applied to the eyelids—the eyes were thus left destitute of all hope. The physicians, overcome by the evil and reduced to the utmost desperation, hesitated as to what they should do, especially since they themselves were also seized by the same malady as the others (for that plague consumed everyone, sparing no one). But the martyr, that preservative of human nature, moved by compassion at such a man-consuming and inhumane suffering, B opens the workshop of a more salutary medicine in her own shrine and summons all from everywhere to herself. She commands this by night to one man suffering from the affliction; but through him, she proclaims it to all, so that all who had fallen into this malady might use her bath. For this was the healer, which, while it might have been an enemy to the ailments of the eye as they had just begun, nevertheless, once tempered by the action of the martyr, became at once an immense cure for the whole city. So much so that the public road above was no longer sufficient for those ascending with wailing and tears, and descending with joy and thanksgiving; for they ascended with eyes pressed together and closed, but descended with eyelids drawn back and open. Nor was this benefit a matter of a meager bath or one suffering from a shortage of water (which would scarcely suffice for the healing of a single man), but of an C extremely abundant and flowing fountain. For the entire populace that had flocked there in such great numbers, as they saw the waters being drawn from the pool incessantly, despaired of spirit, fearing it would not be enough. But the martyr’s zeal to bestow grace did not slacken; now embracing these, healing them, and sending them away; now receiving others in their turn, healing them, and sending all away with the same healing—so that in the space of three or four whole days, the number of those who suffered from that malady dwindled to a very few. I think it is to be attributed to their own unbelief or the wickedness of their lives that they did not obtain the common aid and the ready help, or perhaps it happened so that we might realize the gravity of the evil. For upon those in whom it remained, it brought blindness; since it utterly destroyed both their eyes, D or at any rate one of the two. Such was the enormity of that plague and diabolical machination, which, however, was so conquered and profligated by the miracle, and removed from the midst, as if it had never existed at all.
X.
If there is anything else of such wondrous things that ought to be recounted and handed down to memory, I shall tell this too. Dalisandus is a city, or rather a mere phantom of a city and a name, cast away among the obscure and ignoble, yet it also obtained some splendor through the martyr. For since it honors her conspicuously, it also happens to [end of page]A to be honored by her with a brilliant miracle. For regarding the festival which the virgin honors (and it is a brilliant, famous, and populous one, as many flow into it from everywhere), if anyone keeps watch during the sacred nocturnal vigil of her feast, upon the highest point of the mountain that rises above it—which has its back turned to the east but its face to the west—and keeps watch there, he sees the virgin borne aloft through the air in a fiery chariot B and driving the team, hastening from home to home, from the places which she has at Seleucia, to this one which she loves more than the others among us, and which she cherishes and admires, as if it were situated in a pure and pleasant dwelling. For the trees in it are many, tall, shady, luxuriant, and fruit-bearing; and there are many most delightful springs with very cold water, which, so to speak, burst forth and flow from every plant and rock, encircling the temple itself. The air of the place is very fragrant, clear, and lovely; the birds singing above one’s head are truly wondrous and capable of charming C a person, not only if he is relaxed and pleasure-seeking, but even if he is sorrowful and dejected. There is an abundant supply of many-colored grasses spread over the ground, providing a place to rest for everyone—men, women, children playing, and herds grazing; furthermore, it provides for those wishing to dance and frolic vigorously, or for those desiring to feast and eat most heartily; and for the sick, it is enough for recovering health. Therefore, the virgin, in order to visit this famous festival, hastening each year to a place so blessed and worthy of her alone, and at the most delightful season, D departs from this summit—as one might poetically say, "yoking her horses"—and descends to that summit and enters the temple. After she has completed the public festival there and bestowed upon those who have gathered what is customary for her to give, and also a few small gifts to the place itself, she returns here again; yet she does not for that reason abandon this temple. "For the eye of the saints is not hindered nor restrained from visiting, always and wherever and whenever it wishes, regions, nations, towns, and cities." They say this same miracle happens to Tarsus, the great city, with the divine Paul in the same manner coming to it from Rome, the greatest and queen of cities, and in this way honoring his own city, home, and the celebration of the feast, and showing those who honor her that he is pleased with the festival, has received the sacred honors, and has returned to them the most beautiful rewards. This same Dalisandum, indeed, the martyr herself has often snatched from siege, appearing on that mountaintop and, like heavenly fire, blinding and terrifying the sight of the enemies with a flash of light, and
delivering from the siege. And there are indeed those still remembering this miracle, glorying in the narrative. B [XI]
Now that mention has been made of a siege, let us not overlook the miracle that happened at Selinus, which alone is enough to demonstrate the martyr’s power. This Selinus, then, is a small maritime city, though it was once very great and flourishing with wealth in times of peace. It was—both then and now—subject to the envy of enemies, having done them no wrong, but offending them merely because it had stood until then unplundered, and had not yet surrendered its own possession into their hands. The sea, therefore, surrounds it like a trench not made by human hands; and a towering crag, like a helmet for a head, protects it, rendering it inaccessible to enemy incursions and providing a secure dwelling for its inhabitants. C Yet, this city, so strongly fortified and seemingly impregnable, was eventually betrayed to the enemy by the approach of an evil demon; and it was betrayed in this way. A goatherd was once grazing his animals along the summit that rises above the city, when a goat, having wandered off from the others, was carried down toward the slopes of the cliff, following a certain narrow, slight, and obscure path—or rather, a mere line. Such precipitous crags, though otherwise very difficult and impassable, and for that reason called “steep” (alibata) by Homer, are overcome by goats without much trouble. So as the goat fled, the goatherd, walking cautiously and slowly—at times even using his nails and hands—followed behind the fleeing goat as its guide, until both the goat and the goatherd arrived at the field lying below. D Through such a means, that path—once unknown, slight, and hidden—became obvious to all, and to the enemies living nearby. And so the city was taken at that time; but it remained in fear thereafter, lest it be captured again and often, since it was set before the eyes of such fierce ravagers, and that path began to provoke their desire and continually attract those who covet the goods of others. And they lived in constant suspicion of being under siege. But the martyr dissolved this great fear of theirs by coming to one of the inhabitants and commanding that they build a house for her on the upper part of the mountain, at the very beginning of that path where it begins to slope downward, and that they should no longer fear any evil; for even the mere sight of the temple would be enough to turn away the enemies. As has indeed happened and continues to happen often; and even at the time I write this, it has happened again. For they executed what was commanded as quickly as they could, and raised up the temple there, and fenced themselves against that road and the enemies as with a wall; and those enemies, having attempted it often both at other times and now, neither took it, but retreated with great shame. Such [power] the martyr [shows] even in the most fearful and [difficult] things.
instead of an aegis and a fimbriated shield, and weapons fearful even to hear of, setting forth her small and humble shrine, and through it routing whole furies-like phalanxes, and may she turn them away always from those people and from us, O victorious virgin, inspired by Christ.
XII. B
XII.
Such was this miracle, too, performed by the virgin, which almost flew past me; not, however, that I wished it to, just as if forgetfulness had occupied my mind, but because it is not possible to find all things in one person, nor everything at once, and it is not easy to recover all things at once. But, like those who mine for gold, who must first clear away much material and earth, so too in these miracles, obscured by the long passage of time and faded by forgetfulness, and escaping the memory of the order, place, and manner in which they happened, it is necessary to clear these away in order to collect them fittingly and properly. I shall relate, however, what, having searched and traced with great diligence, I found—which I particularly admired and sought out on behalf of her and her own shrine, and which I found with difficulty. For it is said that these wicked wretches who dwell near us—who sometimes, in the manner of enemies, plundered the things here, and at other times, in the rank of masters and tyrants, laid claim to everything for themselves, plundered everything—having once raided the shrine, they took it and enslaved the people, just as it was adorned with much gold and countless other riches. C And having taken the sacred treasures, they hastened toward Laestrygonia and their own land, both elated and rejoicing in these two things: that they had seemingly conquered the martyr and had suddenly become rich. But the virgin, having yielded a little to their rashness, so as to let them enter and despoil and take the sacred ornaments, and having done so, depart and take to flight, they say she mocked their army. For while they were fleeing to their own city, Laestrygonia (which is situated to the west of us and the whole eastern region, and is separated by thick mountains that rise even to the clouds), the chief refuge of their madness, she changed their sight and turned their mind, and drove them all at the same time, without labor and without noise, toward the east and the plain lying to the east, and prepared them for an easy slaughter for our soldiers. And they, having learned what had happened, and being filled with grief D at the crime and divine inspiration, brought down those who had been carried to the above-mentioned places, which were level and very suitable for cavalry, and slaughtered them all, of whatever age they were; and this with such speed that on the same day such a slaughter of men was both begun and finished, the trophy was set up, and the sacred ornaments were brought back by those very victors to the martyr: who, singing paeans and dancing and chanting hymns and singing a song of victory, dedicated them again to the martyr, wondering at the same time and being struck with amazement how she could endure, not even for a fleeting moment, the audacity of those impious and cruel men, who even now do not cease, nor for long [desist from] the [evil] against us and your...foster-children. For we are enduring evils that are intolerable, and no longer to be borne. We are all indeed verging on destruction and total ruin: the churches have fallen, and cities, fields, villages, and homes lie prostrate. Everyone everywhere is groaning and lamenting, having only this one hope set before their eyes, namely, your intercession with Christ, your spouse and king, and the aid to be brought to us by him.» B XIII. That the virgin knows how to help, with the grace and power she possesses, those whom it is necessary to help, and in turn to requite with pain those who inflict pain—and to inflict it not moderately—especially those whom she perceives to be sinning and acting impiously, and behaving wantonly toward any of her treasures, whether they be persons or objects destined for divine worship, is clearly testified to by what has recently been said. Through these accounts, it is manifest how the enemies came and in what manner they departed, they who were not even granted the mercy of having one survivor left to carry to his own people the news of the defeat they received. For just as the martyr knows how to adorn with benefits those who have conducted themselves rightly in life, so too does she know how to afflict with punishments the impious who dare to perform flagrant deeds; in this, I believe, imitating Christ the King, from whom many proofs of both benevolence and wrath toward mankind have existed in the past, and can be found occurring even now. As for benevolence, consider the whole, populous city of Nineveh, which, through a few tears of repentance, obtained salvation and was exalted. As for wrath, recall again the cities of the Sodomites and Gomorrahites, and that whole nation condemned to universal destruction because of their unadmonished and unchangeable wickedness. C Those things which I have recounted thus far are sufficient arguments as to what kind of person the martyr is in either regard. But we must proceed to other matters, from which it is possible to see her most especially in her wrath, measuring out punishments to counteract sins and daring deeds, and in this way either bringing those [offenders] back to a sounder mind and a better state, or else, for those whose wickedness has already arrived at a point that admits of no warning or amendment, expelling them from life and exacting vengeance. Come then, if you will, let us repeat the memory of a miracle that happened in our own age, so that testimony may be added to our words, and those who will confirm them with a clear voice may be present. These are not merely three or four—a narrow and suspicious number—but entire cities, whole populations, both those who arrive to us from the East, and those who again extend from us into Asia itself. For the report of the miracle, and the horror and astonishment born from it, has spread far and wide everywhere. D Marianus, therefore, was a certain bishop of Tarsus, a city in Cilicia—a city that glories in its beauty, size, and other ornaments by which a city can be judged splendid and wealthy; it is also [noted] because it is the first...
A of the Eastern regions to rise, and the first again to welcome those from whatever land travelling toward the East; and most importantly and gloriously, because it is the homeland of Paul, the greatest and most divine of apostles. Now this Marianus, who was by nature fickle and easily provoked, and who had fallen into some dispute with Dexianus—who was at that time the bishop of this very Seleucia—and finding that he had no other way to avenge himself (for Marianus did not possess the power to prevail over such a great man, nor was it consistent with the dignity of Dexianus to yield to a man who was neither particularly powerful nor wise), he attempted to avenge himself by means of insult and outrage against the martyr. This itself was the most evident proof of the man’s stupidity, that he should attempt a deed so atrocious and utterly impossible to carry out; yet he made the attempt. For when the festival of the Virgin was at hand—a time when everyone, especially the Cilicians, was accustomed to flock to us (as they do even now, and will continue to do as long as men exist, both out of honor for the venerable martyr and for the private benefit of their own souls, so that land and sea are pressed with the multitude of people, households, and families streaming here)—he arose, and in his own church, by public edict, forbade anyone from departing to come here to us and to the martyr. And this was his greatest threat and act of vengeance against Dexianus: to strip away the customary adornment of the festival and to despoil the martyr of the praises customarily rendered to her by those flocking to this festival. But no sooner had he done this than he paid the penalty for his folly, or rather, his madness. For this Capaneus did not survive his insolence for more than five or six days. It is worth presenting here how it became clear that the gravest anger of the martyr was the cause of his destruction, and that it was on her account that he was removed from the midst. C
XIV.
Castor, a man of excellent character, hailing by lineage from Lycaonia but residing here in Seleucia, and performing service under the provincial governors, on that very night of the festival vigil, saw a vision of this kind: he beheld the Virgin herself, with a sterner expression, appearance, and gait, running throughout the city, clapping her hands frequently, crying out against Marianus and the insult offered to her, and threatening that she would soon exact punishment upon him for it. This was in truth a waking vision D and no longer a dream; for immediately following this sight, his death ensued. Thus it came to pass that at the same time, Castor recounted his vision, and others brought the announcement of Marianus’ death, so that a great horror fell upon everyone, not so much because of the event itself as because of the speed with which it happened. And this is how that matter took place and came to its end. But you shall hear of another miracle, no less significant than this one, which was also wrought by the angry martyr, though it did not conclude with the penalty of death.XV.
A A certain orator in this curia, named Eusebius—whose memory is still held in great celebrity, both for the nobility of his nature, the charm and sociability of his speech, and the absolute integrity of his faith—this man, I say, held Hyperechius in the greatest love and esteem while he was still alive. This was due partly to the fact that they both originated from the same city, Damalis and Sanda, founded by Hercules the son of Amphitryon, and partly because of the man’s shrewdness and his excellence in every kind of virtue. Wishing, therefore, to honor him most magnificently after his death here in the city of Seleucia, even in matters pertaining to his funeral—and judging that there could be no greater or more ample honor than for his funeral rites to be performed and for him to be buried in the martyr’s temple—he petitioned the most distinguished and holy man, Maximus, who was at that time the bishop of this church, for permission to do this, and to allow Hyperechius to be buried inside the martyr’s temple, in the portico facing the south. Maximus, a man worthy of admiration, out of respect for him, granted this request. B Those whose task it was to prepare the grave entered the temple and began to set to work, starting to cut into the floor; but suddenly the martyr appeared to them, rebuking them, accusing them of audacity, chastising them with words, and ordering them to withdraw. At first, not knowing who it was—for they could not grasp so unexpected and difficult a thing to fathom—they withdrew, relaxing their efforts a little; but then, when they undertook the task again, the martyr was present to them once more, looking upon them thereafter with greater sternness and anger, and (as commonly happens in matters that cause sharp distress) she instantly rendered them lifeless, so that there was not one of their limbs that did not tremble and shake C (for the martyr is terrible, not only when she exerts her strength, but even if she merely fixes her fierce gaze upon those who have merited such a look). She was very close to taking their very lives from them, so that others would have had to be called upon to carry out their burial, had she not, out of reverence for Maximus, spared them. Yet, appearing to Maximus himself by night, she admonished him with great reproach not to hold the temple in such contempt as to bring the stench of cemeteries and sepulchers into it. For there is no connection between places destined for prayer and sepulchers, unless someone, having departed this life, is not truly dead but lives to God, and is worthy to dwell and live under the same roof as the martyrs; just like that divine Symposius, that divine man Samus, and if there be any other who has attained to a similar state. DXVI.
At the very time when I was writing about this miracle—for it is not right that I remain silent about what happened to me then through the martyr—something of this kind came to pass. Being somewhat remiss...and the like. For I was already sluggish in seeking out and recording her miracles, confessing my fault; and I began to take up my writing tablets and stylus with a more relaxed spirit, because I despaired of searching for and collecting them. Being so affected and listless, the martyr appeared to sit down beside me in my sight, where I am accustomed to engage with my books; she seemed to take from my hand the notebook in which these things had been transcribed by my hand from the tablets, and to read, and to rejoice, and to smile, and to signify by her very expression as if she were delighted by my writings; and she signaled that the work I had begun ought to be completed, and not left unfinished, as far as one might learn what each person knew, and what could be understood by individuals applying their study. The result was that after that vision, and the fear stirred up in me by it, I turned with greater alacrity to taking up my tablets and stylus again into my hands, and doing the same until she herself commanded otherwise. A
XVII. Dexianus also once experienced an anger and expostulation not unlike that which I have described; he experienced it, however, for an error not indeed so grave, yet one from which the martyr felt annoyance. For it is from this point, I think, that we previously interrupted our narrative. B With those neighboring marauders once infesting and plundering this whole region with incursions, and turning everything into—as the proverb says—"Mysian plunder," so that cities were reduced to slavery, villages were torn apart, farms and houses were overwhelmed by floods, and there was nothing that could escape their assault, onset, and rabid fury; Dexianus (for he was still at that time the prefect of those whose duty it was to guard the temple), as a man who feared C that perhaps the fort that sat before the temple might fall into the power of the enemy, and the temple itself, filled with many riches, might likewise fall, stripped all the ornament of gold and silver and carried it off to the city, into a more fortified place and one crowded with people, as more likely to be safe. And having done this, he seemed to have chosen a way that was more cautious and appropriate to the time; but not one day had passed, and night was already falling, when the temple was filled with tumult, a crowd, D and shouting—the martyr running up and down, and calling out that she was being scorned by Dexianus, as if weak—
and ignoble, and as one unable to be of any help to her own temple and its ministers. A “Dexianus,” she said, “the Christian, my priest and guardian, forestalling others, has treated me in a hostile manner and despoiled me of my ornaments, which not even any of the adversaries would have dared to do.” B When some of the virgins who were sleeping in the temple at that time understood these things, and having heard them from the martyr herself while they were awake, they were little short of losing their minds from fear. Without waiting for the dawn of day, they departed immediately, trembling meanwhile, changing color, and with palpitating hearts, announcing and reporting the whole matter to Dexianus. Wherefore he, without delaying even a little, collected from the city all the ornaments and the sacred furnishings dedicated to divine worship and restored them to the temple, and only by this method was he able to appease the martyr and calm her anger. And these indeed are such and so many of the things by which milder punishments were paid, things which have reached our knowledge; for those things which still lie unknown are in number absolutely infinite. But those things which were punished with a graver and more bitter penalty must now be brought to light.
XVIII.
It was the feast of the martyr, and the final day of the same, which we are also accustomed to call the *apolysis*—that is, the dismissal—because the feast is thereafter reaching its end. On this day everyone exerts themselves—citizen and stranger, husband and wife, children, the prefect of the empire, the subject, the general and the soldier, the magistrate and the private citizen, young and old, sailor and farmer—in short, all are eager to gather with great alacrity and earnestness, to pray to God and to supplicate the virgin, and having become partakers of the divine mysteries, to return home sanctified and, as it were, newly absolved, and renewed in body and soul. C Among that throng of people, there were two men who had set out from this Irenopolis of ours. Therefore, when the feast and the gathering were finished, they were feasting with one another and with many others as well; and, as is wont to happen, each of them was proclaiming with admiration the things belonging to the feast: one, its magnificence and splendor; another, the infinite multitude of those who had flocked together; one, the crowded assembly of the bishops; another, the excellence of the preachers in their speaking; one, the pleasure that was taken from the chanting of the psalms; another, the perseverance of that all-night vigil; one, the comeliness and order of the rest of the divine service; another, the intensity of those praying; one, the pushing of the crowd; another, the magnitude of the festival; one, the scene at the time of the trembling mystery—of those just now approaching, of those already departing, of those coming in again, of those retreating back, of those shouting, of those quarreling, of those entangling themselves with one another and not yielding to one another, because each man desired most to be the first to participate in the most holy mysteries, the struggle and the gathering. D Then, one of these two, whose name was Orentius, breaking in, said, “Each of you, as you please, may admire the feast; but as for me, I consider that by far the most wonderful and delightful of all—the miracles and spectacles to have perceived the fruit of it: for I saw a woman, looking out from a certain portico of the temple, so beautiful, so comely, or rather so lovely and full of graces, that my eyes were held fast by her wonderful beauty for the whole time of the synaxis and, as if fastened with nails, were fixed upon her; and I prayed for this one thing from the martyr, that she might make me A in possession of that beauty and of nothing else.” And these were such and such things that were said among them while feasting. But night having come on, all went to sleep; but Orentius, from the day’s preoccupations, even while sleeping, was not left by similar phantasms. For he seemed, as he himself used to relate to those present, to see in a vision the martyr sitting in her own temple, upon a certain high, gold-wrought, and elevated throne; and she was distributing to each of those who had gathered for the festival gifts that were brilliant and many, and worthy of the very festival that she was bestowing. B And at last, he says, she looked at me too and said, “But what, my good man, do you wish to receive from these gifts? Or do you wish to have the woman whose love you were so strangely captivated by that you prayed to me for her? Go then, take, have, and enjoy the gift.” And I, he says, rejoicing exceedingly, having received the gift, withdrew. For the woman was indeed happening to stand with the others to whom she was distributing. And the vision and the narrative ended at this point. But when one hour had scarcely passed, a certain rabid and fierce demon leaped upon him, C and tore him to pieces, and mangled him. And according to the custom of the Persians, having flayed him, he made him naked of his skin, and immediately filled him with worms and gore; so that all who were standing near were rendered breathless and speechless by the evil that had happened so suddenly, and were nearly at the point of dying. So great was the evil to the eyes. And this was, then, that woman, who was badly and impiously looked upon by him, but worse in being sought for an embrace, and finally in that she destroyed the wretched man. For, as he could not even last for a third day, he was taken off by the demon, and paid this penalty for his lustful gaze and for his insults and drunkenness toward the virgin. So that the drama was hidden from no one; for it is truly worthy of a tragic account; and even until now, instead of [reproach]— D
[alt-version omitted]
PETRI PANTINI NOTÆ. (22) *Persarum more ipsum excorians.* Ammianus Marcellin. lib. de Persis agens: Cutes vivis hominibus detrahunt, particulatim, vel solidas. Plurima passim in ejus gentis historiis exempla. Illud memorabile apud Herodot. lib. v, et Valer. Max. lib. vi, c. 4, in Sisamnem iudicem a Cambyse editum; quem imitatus Artaxerxes eodem supplicio injustos judices afficere consuevit, teste Diodoro Siculo lib. xiv. Refert et Ctesias Gnidius in Persicis citante Photio in Bibliotheca Græce edit. p. 54. Idem supplicium ab Amynti, uxore Cyti, Petisace illatum, quod patrem suum Astuigem in loco deserto per sitim et inediam enecasset. Simili etiam Parysatis Bagapalam sustulit; Photius pag. 64 et Plutarchus in Artaxerxe, nisi quod miserum illum Mesabatam appellet. Eodem quoque plexus fuit Manes hæreticus a rege Persarum. Cyrill. Hieros. catech. 7; Theodoret. lib. 1, Contra hæreticos, c. ult.; Suidas dict. Μάνης; Socrat. lib. 1, Histor. eccl. c. 22. Exstat et exemplum in Procopio De bello Persico, lib. de Basilio a Magis pari modo interfecto; et apud Agath. lib. III, de Nachorage. Idem supplicium Hormisdam Persam convivis suis comminatum tradit Zosim. lib. II Histor. Vide Brissonium De regio Persarum principatu, lib. II, et Zwingheri Theatrum, volum. II, lib. vii.
A due to such a death of his, has attached like a brand to his posterity even down to our own age. But this event also brought such strong fear and trembling upon me, as I recounted it, that I could scarcely commit this dreadful marvel to writing with a trembling hand.
XIX. But another case now presents itself to me, not much inferior to the former, or rather, in my judgment, more dreadful, and yet one that deserves to be inscribed among the B other marvels, so that those who chance upon this book may have it as a precept for continence, and accustom their eyes not to gaze upon shameful or profane things, nor things unworthy of the eyes of the martyr. Being most especially moved by this reason (for I have determined to recount only those events from which some worthwhile benefit can be derived), I was led again to tell of this marvel also. For two men from this city, having together ascended to the temple, not with the zeal of prayer but for the satisfaction of lust, both fell into the same ruin. For having unjustly made gold from somewhere (I suspect it was from the money which the law requires to be paid to the king by those whose duty it is), they more unjustly abused that ill-gotten gain, indulging in drunkenness and intoxication, and becoming, so to speak, thoroughly soaked in them, and that under the very gaze of our virgin martyr. For in one of her gardens C these wretches were feasting, and they found a most pernicious end to their most wicked indulgence. For when they were now inflamed by excessive wine-drinking, they also turned their attention toward filthy deeds—for this is the clearly evident end of drunkenness—and, finding a certain virgin wandering outside the sacred enclosures (the demon having so contrived this deception, that an evil will might find an invitation, its end a vengeance, and sin its goad), they dragged this virgin toward them, and made her a guest at their table and their bed. Here one might well marvel at what came to pass. For the martyr, sensing that one of her own virgins was entangled in the snares of sin, and that the lamb was caught between two wolves D and being dragged toward the ready abyss of destruction, hastened with all possible speed to the garden, and came upon them while they were still sunk in deep sleep, and the virgin still untouched. For because drunkenness had first oppressed them into a tight slumber, it came to pass that there was no room for the sin, and thus drunkenness here had a certain utility. "And what," she said, "you most wicked men, has impelled you to abduct my dove from my house, take her to yourselves, and desire to violate her? But it shall be my care that you pay the penalty for this wicked attempt." And having spoken these words, she betook herself to her own temple and place. But they, terrified by her and struck with fear by the things they had wickedly planned and heard, sent back the virgin still pure, rendering many thanks, at that moment, both to their drunkenness and to their sleep. And they themselves departed, fleeing headlong; but they were unaware that even in fleeing they were not escaping, and having been elsewhere—
they were within the borders of the Irenensians. Nor did much time pass before they were called to account for the same crime—that is, the theft of gold—the greatest evidence of which was that from this source they had the means to indulge in foul banqueting to their own destruction. But, in truth, their crime against the virgin became their undoing. For they paid the penalty in the very place where they had committed this impious deed; though, through their madness, they devised and continually changed various and manifold paths, side-roads, and exits to avoid punishment, they were nonetheless unable to avoid the great and sleepless eye of the martyr, or the manner of punishment determined for them. For one of them, having been caught, perished by being thrust into this river from the ferry that transports people to us, vehemently accusing his own rashness in all things; while the other, having been destroyed in turn by another mode of death, was himself removed from the midst. Both were extinguished at the same time and place; and, as they say, they even obtained the same tomb, and perhaps the same [place in the underworld] for their gluttony and sin. I learned this from the citizens and relatives of those very men. Now, a third pair of Irenopolitan citizens remains for us; and if we were to leave them unmentioned, we would be depriving ourselves of a very great miracle.
B
XX.
Pappus and Aulerius were both decurions, and both were partners in the administration of certain military expenses. This expense, I think, was for grain. But as time went on, and this grain was consumed—the grain which the soldiers received each day in the form of bread—Aulerius chanced to depart from this life. At his death, Pappus took the opportunity to lay snares for the children of the deceased, transferring to himself alone the gain that belonged to both of them, and leaving to the children of the deceased only the remains; so that the misfortune was double for them: the loss of their father and the loss of the small sum of money that had remained to them. What, then, of the martyr, who never neglects even those who are in exile, but who undertakes the care and defense of all who are suffering and treated unjustly? She hastens and arrives at the city and the house of that injurious man, and, as Homer says somewhere, C stood over his head in an unlucky dream. "For what is this, tell me, best of men," she says, "this great war of yours against orphans? What is this so shameless defamation of yours against orphans? What has such an insatiable greed inflamed you, that you should disregard everything at once—God, faith, and the mutual conscience between you—in order to gain absolutely little, which will neither increase your own house nor fail to injure theirs? Know, therefore, for certain," she says, "that Aulerius, who departed from the living among you, and who on this account received injury from you, has approached Christ the King of all to accuse you; and the death sentence has already been brought D against you, and you are about to be deprived of what is theirs, and immediately after that...
you shall render an account of the administration of public affairs carried out between you and Aulerius. For in this very week, on this very day, you are to die." A With these words, she departed; he stood up, trembling with such terror that no part of his body could remain still, but all his limbs were filled with agitation, shaking, and quivering. For his head was tossing violently, his eyes, already darkened, were wandering aimlessly, his tongue hung limp, his teeth chattered, and his heart pounded—and with such force that it seemed as if it would burst forth from the rest of his body; his feet, furthermore, tottered so frequently and unsteadily, as if they were being compelled to walk upon some soft and yielding material. To the extent that he still resisted, it was only to confess his injustice, to repudiate his false accusations, and to display an untimely goodwill; but he gained no benefit from this, because what was done by him had been driven by compulsion, not by free will. Scarcely had the predicted day dawned when he was taken away, and the truth of the prophecy was confirmed by the result, so that no one among us was unaware of this calamity born of his iniquity. But come, reader (for I must say the same thing again), let us turn from B the more somber miracles to the more cheerful ones, from the more severe to the more pleasant, so that we may lift up and revive our souls, which have been constricted by fear, with some sweeter and gentler narrative. Let us, therefore, bring forward again those things that we know.
XXI.
It was summer, and there was the singing of cicadas, and the sun was burning intensely overhead, and a certain heavy force of disease was consuming mules, horses, oxen, donkeys, sheep, and, in a word, the entire nature of livestock; so that this plague was affecting everyone with great helplessness and anxiety of mind, laying waste to villages and fields, and even emptying the most splendid houses in the city, while no method of cure offered itself, because the origin of the evil was unknown, and it was not known whence it had arrived with such force. For it was not possible to learn it from the animals that were perishing; because, seized by that evil, they were destroyed before it could be perceived, and many were dying all at once and in a heap. When, therefore, the situation was already despaired of and was surpassing all human C skill, once again this kind and all-powerful martyr, pitying the perishing livestock and the men who were losing them, immediately pointed out a most effective remedy. For she caused a fountain—which had never existed before, and had never been seen by any of us or our ancestors—to gush forth suddenly; and this not far away, or in some foreign region, but in that very place where her sanctuary is dedicated. Now this cave is situated in the direction of the setting sun from the temple, and it is most charming and delightful, and has much pleasure in walking to it, and D lingering there, and praying in great quiet.
A Thus whoever enters to pray, and goes to the temple, immediately hastens to that cave, as if to a small bedchamber and room that holds the virgin inside. And some say that she passes most of her time there, as one who loves quiet and is a lover of the wilderness. ‹For this is most proper and peculiar to the saints, that they love retirement, and for the most part abide in them.› From this fountain, therefore, so suddenly called forth, the martyr drew healing for all sick animals. It was then possible to see every path, and every public road, from the flat lands and the higher places looking toward this spot, and leading hither, and full of horses, mules, oxen, sheep, goats, donkeys, and also dogs and pigs, all rushing toward this one place, which was then pouring forth healing and cures even more than water. Then, whichever animal came away from the water was no longer sick, but had drunk more of health than of water, and was thus strengthened anew and leaped for joy, and ran off to its own pasture and home, very robust, and set about its accustomed tasks. B
XXII.
It is said that at that time one of the noble citizens had a horse that was sick and suffering grievously, its back being drawn together at the rear part, and pulling the rest of the body in the opposite direction, and, as they say, by the contractions of the nerves preventing its forward movement; and out of experiment rather than faith he sent it to that water, to see if it were possible to remove such an evident danger. But the martyr, neither unaware of the trial, nor for trial's sake, sent the horse back whole to Marianus. And I think there is no one who does not know this, and also her secret counsel, and the horse’s unexpected healing, and the martyr’s so very swift turn of mind; and they were C amazed at the unspeakable [alt-version omitted] healing of the horse and the presence of the martyr’s power, which was beyond measure.
XXIII.
And there is a story that a certain Cypriot, of the most noble and illustrious parentage, deprived of his sight, and excited by the rumor of this water, crossed over, and having used this remedy, returned to his fellow Cypriots with his sight restored. But will not the liberal arts then rightly complain of me, and cry out to men of eloquence, that they alone have been neglected by us, when they are not at all neglected by the martyr, but on the contrary have often obtained miracles from the same martyr for men wise and distinguished in eloquence? D Come then, let us recount what has reached our knowledge up to this point, so that the liberal arts themselves might be grateful to us, having also been admitted into such a blessed chorus of miracles.
A Olympius was the father of that most celebrated grammarian, Alypius, who himself also performed the same duties of grammar and was instructing the youth among us at that time. He happened to fall into a grave illness that threatened his life. When even the physicians had despaired of his recovery, and the malady was deemed to have overcome all human aid, and every hope of life had deserted the man, he fled to the only refuge for such evils: the martyr. Having entered the temple, he hung all his hopes for recovery entirely upon her from that time forth. Wherefore the martyr, hastening—for she is a lover of letters and poetry, and always takes delight in those who praise her with more careful speech—delivered the man from danger. She delivered him in this way: manifesting herself to him by night, as is her custom with the sick, and showing who she was by her appearance, she immediately asked what ailed him and what he desired. Taking this up, he said: *“Thou knowest: why should I narrate these known things to thee?”* This is indeed a verse from Homer; but the man used it far more aptly than Achilles did then toward his mother Thetis, in order that he might at once commend his own art and move the virgin to favor him with this most beautiful and fitting poem. B The martyr, therefore, smiled, delighted both by the man and by the verse, and admiring that he had answered so fittingly; she held out to him a certain pebble which she happened to be carrying in her hand at that time, which seemed most beautiful, marked with various spots, and not unlike the hand that held it. She exhorted him to apply it to his neck, as it was endowed with the efficacy to put the disease to flight and restore health. Alypius received it, and while still held in sleep, he seemed to keep it and grasp it tightly in his hand, as a pledge of life and health. But having awakened, and opening his hand, he found nothing. He concluded that he had been led into error and that the dream was truly just a dream, so that along with the affliction of the disease, he added sorrow to his soul. C For it generally happens that whatever one hopes for delights the mind as though it were surely to come to pass, and if it does not occur, it excites a more bitter pain, stinging more sharply and penetrating more deeply into the soul of the sufferer. But his son, Solymius, removed all this pain and sorrow by appearing unexpectedly a little later, holding in his hand that very pebble which the virgin had seemed to hold and had given to the sick man in the night. What then? Can the account of this miracle be considered a fabrication and a fable? But if you learn the event as it happened, and how it came to pass, you will, I think, abstain from all sinister suspicion. This Solymius, being both a lover of letters and pious toward his parent, D assigned one part of the day to studies and the other part to his father. In the morning hours he would assiduously devote himself to the study of the arts; but when midday arrived, he would relax in order to go to his father, intending to see and care for him, and to do everything that it is fitting for a son to do for a father
A And so, while coming up at that time of night when the martyr also appeared, he found this pebble on the road. Delighted by its beauty and size (for it was well-rounded into a symmetrical, spherical shape, so that it seemed to have been turned on a lathe, and was blended with white and purple colors in such a way that the lines intertwined with one another, creating a natural and matchless beauty), he picked it up and, playing with it as he walked, arrived at his father's side. As he stood by the bed, and his father noticed the pebble in his hand, he recognized it as a gift from the martyr; he snatched it up immediately, embraced it, and was at once delivered from his long and painful illness. It seems to me that the martyr herself had touched that pebble, and that this is why it was so beautiful and charming, and appeared to be even more powerful than death.
XXV
But having left behind the man of letters, let us come to the sophists, I mean Isocasius and that Aretarchus; neither of whom, though an unbeliever, has failed to obtain a miracle from the martyr, yet has remained an unbeliever. But the blame lies with those who choose it, as the admirable B Plato says somewhere, while the martyr is entirely free of blame. For Isocasius, having become a sophist from being a teacher of letters—and having lost that title, yet having gained nothing more in reality—once fell ill in the Cilician city of Aegae. Then, as sick men are wont to do, desiring much deep quietude, he was brought to the temple of the martyr, which is a little way outside the city, as if he were most likely to obtain that wish in that place. Having gained much quiet there, and having slept a little, he obtained health along with the quiet, having been instructed by the martyr in what he needed to do; and having done it, and having been freed from his disease, even though she reproached him for his unbelief, she did not begrudge him her help. C This is roughly the way that the admirable Eudocius reported and narrated it to us—a brilliant and famous man, and one who cherishes nothing so much as the truth, who dwells in and adorns that most beautiful city of Tarsus.
XXVI
As for this sophist of ours, Aretarchus, I cannot say whether he is more ignorant or more unbelieving; for both alike thrive and flourish in him to such an extent that it is difficult to judge which of the two has the upper hand, though he is considered a sophist. This man, then, having fallen into the most grievous D kidney ailment, so that he often hoped for death because of his excessive pain, and even longed for death because of the magnitude of his torments, nevertheless obtained help and salvation from the martyr, who promised that a sure medicine and cure for his ailment would be none other than the nocturnal oil from the lamp that illuminates her shrine. Having requested a supply of this for himself, and anointing himself with it (by which he…
also wiped clean his affliction), he obtained health, but was not delivered from his impiety. For through much shrewdness and depth of mind, and having acknowledged who provided the medicine, he attributed the favor of the cure to another. "For," he says, "the Sarpedonius commanded me to seek it from her and receive it." Then, O most wise and most prudent of sophists—you who breathe Gorgias himself upon us—could he who sent you to another not have provided, if he were able, what you were seeking? Instead, would he have sent his own suppliant and companion—and, as you might say, his initiate and lover—to another person, and that, too, a foe? What else is this but to confess his own weakness, and to proclaim the efficacy of the martyr, and to make it clear to all that the art, power, and wisdom which he never possessed were lacking to him; but that it is the martyr who possesses such power even to this day, and from whom all receive healing? That fine fellow Sarpedonius is not so bereft of sense (unless we call him wise in your way) as not to be able to hide his own ignorance—I will not say, his weakness, for I know not what to call it. Yet, through you, the illustrious and admirable orator, he makes it more open and advertises it all the more. But be that as it may, would that you might also be healed in your soul by the martyr, even if you choose to attribute the credit to Sarpedonius, or to Apollo, or to whomever you like among your demons. For the former we shall count to the power of the martyr, but the latter to your own ignorance. We would consider the second a light matter, provided only that the first were obtained.
XXVII.
The martyr is so fond of learning, and takes such pleasure in these oratorical praises, that I think it worthwhile to relate something of what happened to me and in me. That this is so, the martyr herself, by whom it was done, knows that I do not lie. For her annual festival was being celebrated, and I too had prepared a small oration in praise of the feast; not because I thought I could bring forth anything remarkable or worthy of her, but as one hunting for some favor from the martyr, since she is known to reward even those who honor her but little with the greatest gifts. But when only one day remained for the delivery of the oration, a certain illness, quite severe and bringing with it the greatest pain, fell upon my ear, so that it was stretched from within and plucked at from the interior; and a violent spirit pushed through the concave cavity of the head, exciting a vehement sound within; so that I was already losing all hope of speaking and was living in expectation of a greater evil. I even began to be suffused with blushing, because, as many expected me to deliver the oration, I would abandon the established order as the time for performing the demonstration neared. But the martyr prevented all these things from happening to me, standing by me at night, taking hold of my ear, shaking it, and dissolving all the pain into a small ichor; which having run out from the winding and deep passages, as it were, I was seen at the platform—for the place where the demonstration is made is called thus.A And since there was as yet no one who spoke at the churches, I said a few things. And the martyr granted me such power and grace in speaking, that I was judged to be someone and to have spoken reasonably, though I had aroused the greatest admiration without any memorable saying of my own. And when I had been deemed worthy of the priestly council and of the rank of teachers and priests, the same martyr was present with me for the most part, and appearing by night, she would hand me some book or paper, which to me was always a symbol and seemed to be the greatest token of approval. But if I must speak more of what she did for me in appearing, this is clear from what transpired again. But mention must be made of him, whom I could scarcely bring to mind.
XXVIII.
B There was a certain Calliste, a noble and honest woman; but she had married a husband who was not very chaste, but rather one who was insanely addicted to these vulgar pleasures, and who enslaved himself to an insatiable desire for them and was not content with the lawful union. Now, one of the women of the stage, who was living in debauchery with this very man, had deformed the appearance and face—naturally beautiful—of this Calliste with poisonous drugs, so that she was no longer a pleasure to her husband, but the other woman performed her duties and slept with him, with whom she had no right to do so. Being affected by this misfortune, and separated from her husband—for the ugliness of her face easily led Papias (for that was the man’s name) to hate his wife—Calliste flees to the martyr. She recounts her own misfortune and the wickedness of the rival, and begs to receive some healing, so that she might recover both the beauty of her appearance and the goodwill of her husband. C The martyr hears these things, and being vehemently moved by the woman’s suffering—for the woman was pouring forth streams of tears along with her speech; and there is no seasoning of prayer so excellent as a profusion of tears gushing from the very depths of the soul—she immediately indicates and prescribes the remedy. "For," she says, "having taken these purifications, which are sold before the doors of this temple, and having moistened them with wine, wash your face; and you shall immediately wash away the ugliness." And Calliste, having done this immediately, immediately freed her own form from that corruption, and her husband from the harlot—a corruption far worse. For along with the purifications, the abscess, as they say, which had caused this deformity, subsided; and Calliste was again most beautiful in form and pleasing to her husband. DXXIX.
But let us not be unmindful of the other woman, even if she was poor and of low estate. For a certain Bassiana, having once had a quarrel with her relatives, and having stolen away a small portion of her own gold,A (these were almost rings and some small necklaces), arrived at the temple; and there, as she was still angry with her relatives, she spent some time. Now, a certain maiden B who was familiar with her around that time—being one who did not concern herself much with the precision or piety becoming to a maiden—having found Bassiana either sleeping or absent, made off with the gold pieces. When the woman rose and did not find what she had had a little while before, she began to cry out and beseech the martyr, as if she had been entrusted with keeping these things and had now lost them, or was certainly denying them. But the martyr, both pitying her and feeling hostility toward the maiden on account of her wickedness, made her theft manifest, punishing her most of all by making it known, both to the one who had lost them and to all those about the temple, so that she was clearly convicted and returned the gold beads to Bassiana; and henceforth, having been chastened, she lived in such a way that her lapse was covered over and the favor of the martyr was regained for her.
XXX. C But let us also relate the miracle that happened recently, as the last one; although it is neither the last, nor will it ever be the last miracle of the martyr. For as long as there are human beings, miracles will always flow from her as from a fountain, always budding forth, always flourishing, always granting every kind of healing. We must therefore mention that also, concerning a certain woman who was among those who are highly distinguished and of noble birth, named Dosithea. But enough of these. D For what profit is there in sprinkling a few drops into an immense sea? Nor, if I wished to say more, could I find it. Indeed, I have barely gathered together these very things, running about here and there, congregating and collecting them, as if from a certain depth of long time and oblivion I had gathered the miracles, just as the merchants of such things gather these much-celebrated little stones. But neither are they few, nor are they the greater part of the many things that remain; rather, their number is so great that it is entirely impossible to calculate it. Nor has nature granted me wings or adamantine strength, so that I might penetrate all lands and seas, gathering up all those things from every city and region, or village or house; for neither would such a collection be possible for me, nor would the writing be feasible, nor a life so long as to suffice for enumerating such an infinite multitude of miracles. Wherefore, as I said, I shall halt the course of my speech concerning them here, so that I might not appear to pursue useless and unattainable things. Adding only this, I shall keep silence, namely that the martyr has proclaimed many men living in [A'] supreme virtue, and she has trained many women who have taken up an equal zeal. Such as that Paul, who was Egyptian both in reality and by name, a man accompanying in his life those most excellent and heaven-high ones, Elijah and John; and that man of Samos, who with the greatest Elisha and those saints after his manner
A approximates so closely. Who, although he inhabited this city, frequented the temple more often than those who actually lived in the martyr's shrine, going up twice each day with psalmody; and nothing stood in his way, "neither fire, nor hail, nor snow, nor ice, nor stormy wind," as the divine David somewhere says.
As for Dexianus, "a mortal though he was, he followed after the immortal charioteers." For even when occupied in public life, leading a most civic existence, he was in no way estranged from their virtue; but being entirely placed in Christ, he performed the same deeds as they did. So too were Carterius, John, and Philip, who, while having each founded a retreat in their turn, vied more strictly with one another and with those of old, both living and shining forth. Nor did even that highly-sought throne of the episcopate cast this John out from those laws of holiness and the practice of this sacred exercise; and this is for all to see, for those who behold the man still living today according to the ancient standard of asceticism.
And of the women, again, there is Marthana, Xenarchis, this Dionysia here, Susanna, Theodula, and all the others, whom time does not permit me to list; unless, following the example of Hesiod, I too should wish to write a catalog of excellent women right now. The life, character, and conduct according to God of all these, whether of the men I have listed or the women, are the miracles of the martyr, and indeed far greater than those miracles C I recounted above. For what greater thing could one say of them than that such a company should have begun to advance toward piety under the guidance of the martyr, for each one of whom, whether man or woman, the whole world is not equivalent? D
XXXI. Now, what has come into my mind, I think it right not to hide from you. For this Xenarchis, while dwelling in marriage with a husband, ascended to such a height of virtue, and so pleased the Virgin, despite being married, that a certain story is told about her. For when a certain pious person (whether it was a man or a woman, I cannot say) was carrying a book in their hands and gave it to her as a gift (it was a codex of the Gospel), she is said to have received it most gladly and, smiling slightly, to have said: "This gift is indeed divine, wonderful, and the greatest, and such as nothing else upon the earth is; but for me," she said, "who do not even know those first elements and letters, it is useless." And saying this, she opened the book....
Some things are missing; not many, I think.