Passion of Perpetua and Felicity, Passion of Perpetua and Felicity 6

The day of their victory dawned, and they walked from the prison into the amphitheater as if entering heaven, cheerful and composed; if they trembled, it was with joy, not fear. Perpetua followed with a calm face and steady step, like a noblewoman of Christ, beloved of God, lowering her eyes from the gaze of the crowd. Felicity rejoiced that she had given birth safely, so that she might fight the beasts; from blood and the midwife to the net-fighter, she was about to be washed after childbirth with a second baptism. When they were brought to the gate and forced to put on the robes of the priests of Saturn for the men and the vestments of the consecrated of Ceres for the women, that noble constancy resisted to the end. She said: "We came here of our own free will so that our freedom would not be obscured. We pledged our souls so that we would not do such a thing; this was our agreement with you." Injustice recognized justice, and the tribune conceded that they be led in just as they were, simply dressed. Perpetua sang psalms, now treading on the head of the Egyptian. Revocatus, Saturninus, and Saturus threatened the watching crowd about this. When they came into Hilarianus's sight, they gestured and nodded to him: "You will judge us, but God will judge you." The people, enraged, demanded they be scourged according to the order of the hunters. And indeed they rejoiced that they had attained a share in the Lord's sufferings.

But he who said, "Ask and you will receive" (Matt 7:7; Luke 11:9), gave to those who asked the exit each one desired. When they discussed the vow of their martyrdom, Saturninus professed he wanted to be thrown to all the beasts, so that he might win a more glorious crown. In the contest of the spectacle, he and Revocatus faced the leopard and were also torn by the bear on the platform. Saturus, however, dreaded nothing more than the bear; he expected to be finished by a single bite of the leopard. When a boar was provided, the hunter who had brought it was gored by the same beast and died after some days of the games. Saturus alone was dragged out. When he was bound to the bear on the bridge, the bear refused to leave its cage. So Saturus was recalled a second time, unharmed.

For the women, the devil prepared a most ferocious cow, procured contrary to custom, even emulating their sex in the beast. Stripped and dressed in nets, they were led out. The people shuddered at the sight of one young woman, delicate, and the other with breasts dripping from recent childbirth. So they were recalled and allowed to dress again. Perpetua was led in first; she was thrown and fell on her loins. Seeing her tunic torn at the side, she drew it over her thighs, mindful of modesty rather than pain. Then, asked to do so, she pinned up her disheveled hair, for it was not fitting for a martyr to suffer with hair unbound, lest she appear to be lamenting in her glory. She rose, and seeing Felicity bruised, she went to her, gave her hand, and lifted her up. Both stood together, and when the people's hostility was overcome, they were recalled to the Gate of Life. There Perpetua was received by a catechumen named Rusticus, who clung to her. As if awakened from sleep — so deeply was she in spirit and ecstasy — she looked around and said to everyone's amazement: "When are we led out to that cow? I do not know." When she heard it had already happened, she would not believe until she recognized the marks of torment on her body and clothing, and saw the catechumen. Then she summoned her brother and spoke to the catechumen: "Stand firm in faith, love one another, and do not be scandalized by our sufferings."

At another gate, Saturus encouraged the soldier Pudens: "I am here, just as I promised and predicted; I have not yet felt any beast. Now believe with all your heart. See, I go to that one and will be consumed by a single bite of the leopard." Immediately at the end of the spectacle, he was thrown to the leopard and so drenched in blood from one bite that the crowd, as he returned, cried out as a testimony to a second baptism: "Washed and saved, washed and saved." Truly he was saved, who had been glorified in this spectacle. Then to Pudens he said: "Farewell, and remember my faith; let these things not disturb you but confirm you." At the same time he asked for a ring from Pudens's finger, dipped it in his wound, and returned it, leaving a pledge of his guarantee and a memory of his blood. Then, lifeless, he fell with the others to the slaughter in the usual place. When the people demanded they be brought into the middle so that, with the sword piercing their bodies, their eyes might join the spectators as companions of the homicide, they rose of their own accord and went where the people wanted. They had already kissed one another, so as to consummate their martyrdom through the solemnities of peace. The others received the sword immobile and in silence; even more so Saturus, who had also ascended the ladder first, gave up his spirit first, for he was also supporting Perpetua. Perpetua, however, so that she might taste some pain, cried out when pierced between the ribs, and herself placed the trembling right hand of the young gladiator on her throat. Perhaps such a woman could not have been killed otherwise, because she was feared by the unclean spirit, unless she herself had willed it.