Brachy-Martyrologia Or, A Brewery of all the greatest Persecutions Which have befallen the Saints and People of God From the Creation to our present Times: Paraphras'd, By Nicholas Billingsly |
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| XII. |
SECT. XII. The eighth Primitive Persecution, which began Anno Christi 259.
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| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
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| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
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| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | Brachy-Martyrologia |  |
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SECT. XII. The eighth Primitive Persecution, which began Anno Christi 259.
Valerian
next adds fuel to the fire,
And blows the flames of persecution higher;
By an Egyptian Sorcerer beguil'd,
He now is cruel, who before was milde.
The Christians are banished his Court,
Where lately he allow'd them to resort;
Nor was this all; young men, maids, husbands, wives,
All sorts, and ranks, must lose (dear hearts!) their lives.
Three hundred souls, then by the President
Of Carthage were into a lime-kiln sent.
Three Virgins first had Vinegar and gall
Forc'd down their throats; then scourg'd, then rack'd and all
Besmeared were with lime: then broil'd, then cast
To wild beasts, and beheaded at the last.
When Cyprian long had born afflictions yoke,
His neck submitted to the fatal stroke.
Sixtus a Bishop of the City Rome,
And his six Deacons, suffer'd Martyrdome.
Laurence the seventh, as along he went
With Sixtus going to his punishment,
Complain'd he might not (seeing he had rather
Suffer then live) die with his Rev'rend father.
Sixtus reply'd, before three dayes were out
He should come after: go and give about
I'th' interim thy treasures to the poor:
Th' observing Judge supposing he had store
Of wealth crock'd up, commanded him to bring
All that he had: For to effect which thing,
Laurence crav'd three dayes respit; in which stock
Of time, he gath'red a poor Christian flock
Into a ring; the fourth day doth afford
New light, and he must now make good his word.
Being enforc'd by a severer charge,
Couragious Laurence doth his arms enlarge
Over the needy throng, and said, These be
The precious Jewels of the Church: see, see,
Here treasure is indeed; here Christ doth dwell.
But Oh! what tongue sufficiently can tell
The raving fury which the Tyrant acted;
How he did stamp, did stare like one distracted?
His eyes did sparkle, his gnash'd teeth struck fire,
And's mouth all in a foam, thus wreak'd his ire:
Kindle the fire; Faggots on Faggots fling:
What, doth the villain thus delude the King?
Away, away with him; whip beat him sore;
Jesteth the Traitor with the Emperour?
Pinch him with red-hot tongs; let candent plates
Engird the Raskals loyns; heat, heat the grates;
And when y'have bound the Rebell hand and foot;
On with him, rost him, broil him: look you do't,
On pain of our displeasure; toss him, turn him;
I charge you, do not leave him till you burn him,
And that to cindars too: each man fulfill
His office quick, and execute my will.
Revenge findes nimble hands; the tort'rers lay
Him on a soft Down-bed; I will not say,
A fi'ry iron one: God made it so,
That it afforded Laurence ease, not woe.
Valerians heart burns, Laurence flesh doth rost;
'Tis doubtful whether was tormented most.
And blows the flames of persecution higher;
By an Egyptian Sorcerer beguil'd,
He now is cruel, who before was milde.
The Christians are banished his Court,
Where lately he allow'd them to resort;
Nor was this all; young men, maids, husbands, wives,
All sorts, and ranks, must lose (dear hearts!) their lives.
Three hundred souls, then by the President
Of Carthage were into a lime-kiln sent.
Three Virgins first had Vinegar and gall
Forc'd down their throats; then scourg'd, then rack'd and all
Besmeared were with lime: then broil'd, then cast
To wild beasts, and beheaded at the last.
When Cyprian long had born afflictions yoke,
His neck submitted to the fatal stroke.
Sixtus a Bishop of the City Rome,
And his six Deacons, suffer'd Martyrdome.
Laurence the seventh, as along he went
With Sixtus going to his punishment,
Complain'd he might not (seeing he had rather
Suffer then live) die with his Rev'rend father.
Sixtus reply'd, before three dayes were out
He should come after: go and give about
I'th' interim thy treasures to the poor:
Th' observing Judge supposing he had store
39
All that he had: For to effect which thing,
Laurence crav'd three dayes respit; in which stock
Of time, he gath'red a poor Christian flock
Into a ring; the fourth day doth afford
New light, and he must now make good his word.
Being enforc'd by a severer charge,
Couragious Laurence doth his arms enlarge
Over the needy throng, and said, These be
The precious Jewels of the Church: see, see,
Here treasure is indeed; here Christ doth dwell.
But Oh! what tongue sufficiently can tell
The raving fury which the Tyrant acted;
How he did stamp, did stare like one distracted?
His eyes did sparkle, his gnash'd teeth struck fire,
And's mouth all in a foam, thus wreak'd his ire:
Kindle the fire; Faggots on Faggots fling:
What, doth the villain thus delude the King?
Away, away with him; whip beat him sore;
Jesteth the Traitor with the Emperour?
Pinch him with red-hot tongs; let candent plates
Engird the Raskals loyns; heat, heat the grates;
And when y'have bound the Rebell hand and foot;
On with him, rost him, broil him: look you do't,
On pain of our displeasure; toss him, turn him;
I charge you, do not leave him till you burn him,
And that to cindars too: each man fulfill
His office quick, and execute my will.
Revenge findes nimble hands; the tort'rers lay
Him on a soft Down-bed; I will not say,
A fi'ry iron one: God made it so,
That it afforded Laurence ease, not woe.
Valerians heart burns, Laurence flesh doth rost;
'Tis doubtful whether was tormented most.
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Then Laurence thus:
Tyrant, this side's enough: turn up the rest;
Or rost or raw, try which thou likest best.
Tyrant, this side's enough: turn up the rest;
Or rost or raw, try which thou likest best.
| Brachy-Martyrologia | |