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Updated: May 17, 2025
But stay Before us a penitent from Memphis, who has been dead a few weeks " "Old Serapion?" asked Petrus. "That was his name," exclaimed Sirona. "Do you know his cave?" "How should I?" replied Petrus. "But perhaps Agapitus " "The spring where I got the water to cool Polykarp's wound, Paulus calls the partridge's-spring." "The partridge's-spring," repeated the senator, "I know that."
While he was painfully blowing the charcoal Hermas came up to him. He had learned from Polykarp's escort where Paulus was to be found, and as he stood opposite his friend he grasped his hand, stroked his rough hair and thanked him with deep and tender emotion for the great sacrifice he had made for him when he had taken upon himself the dishonoring punishment of his fault.
Antonius was a highly gifted artist, and if Polykarp's master was not mistaken, and if he himself were not misled by fatherly affection, his second son was on the high road to the very first rank in art to a position reached only by elect spirits.
In her anxiety for her darling, who had gone through so many bitter experiences during the past day, she had not been able to sleep. Polykarp's room lay above her bedroom, and when his steps over head betrayed that, though it was now near morning, he had not yet gone to rest, she had risen from her bed without waking Petrus, who seemed to be sleeping.
But he withstood me more and more violently, saying that Polykarp's works were to adorn no sacred place, but the Caesareum, and that to him is nothing but a heathen edifice, and the noble works of the Greeks that are preserved there he calls revolting images by which Satan ensnares the souls of Christian men.
He found the door of the work-room open, and, himself unseen and unheard, he was witness to his wife's vehement speech, and to the lad's justification, while Polykarp's work stood in the full light of the lamps, exactly in front of him.
But stay Before us a penitent from Memphis, who has been dead a few weeks " "Old Serapion?" asked Petrus. "That was his name," exclaimed Sirona. "Do you know his cave?" "How should I?" replied Petrus. "But perhaps Agapitus " "The spring where I got the water to cool Polykarp's wound, Paulus calls the partridge's-spring." "The partridge's-spring," repeated the senator, "I know that."
An emotion such as she had never before known had mastered her, and she felt, since hearing Polykarp's speech, as if a new and purer blood was flowing rapidly through her veins.
A thrill of joy shot through him, for Polykarp's lips were indeed not cold, he moved his hand, and now the Lord be praised! he actually opened his eyes. "And I am not a murderer!" A thousand voices seem to sing with joy in his heart, and then he thought to himself, "First I will carry him down to his parents in the oasis, and then go up to the brethren."
Never had she been so stern in any circumstances, while on the other hand her husband, so long as she could remember, had never been so softhearted and tender to his son, and yet she had controlled herself so far, as not to contradict Petrus in Polykarp's presence, and to leave the work-room in silence with her husband.
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