Again the multitude shouted and rattled pumpkins. “We are detaining the people in the cold,” said the presiding magistrate; “the sports move sluggishly as does our blood.” Then, aside to Fuscianus, “My bricks are becoming sensibly chilled. I require a fresh supply.” Then to the maiden: “Hear me, Perpetua, daughter of Harpinius Læto that was—we and the gods, or the gods and we, are indisposed to deal harshly. Throw a few crumbs of incense on the altar, and you shall pass at once up those steps to the row of seats where sit the white‐robed priestesses with their crowns. I shall be well content.” “That is a thing I cannot do,” said Perpetua firmly. “Then we shall have to make you,” said the magistrate in hard tones. He was angry, vexed. “You will prove more compliant when you have been extended on the rack. Let her be disrobed and tortured.” Then descended into the arena two young men, who bowed to the magistrate, solicited leave, and drew forth styles or iron pens and tablets covered with wax. These were the scribes of the Church employed everywhere to take down a record of the last interrogatory of a martyr. Such records were called the “Acts.” Of them great numbers have been preserved, but unhappily rarely unfalsified. The simplicity of the acts, the stiffness of style, the absence of all miraculous incident, did not suit the taste of mediæval compilers, and they systematically interpolated the earlier acts with harrowing details and records of marvels. Nevertheless, a certain number of these acts remain uncorrupted, and with regard to the rest it is not difficult to separate in them that which is fictitious from that which is genuine. Such notaries were admitted to the trials and executions with as much indifference as would be newspaper reporters nowadays. Again, with the sweat of anguish breaking out on his brow, Æmilius interposed. “I pray your mercy,” he said; “let the sentence be still further modified. Suffer the damsel to be relieved of becoming a priestess. Let her become my wife, and I swear that I will make over my estate of Ad Fines to the temple of the god Nemausus, with the villa upon it, and statues and works of art.” “That is an offer to be entertained by the priesthood and not by me. Boy—hot bricks! and be quick about removing those which have become almost cold.” A pause ensued whilst the proposal of Æmilius was discussed between the chief priestess of the fountain and the Augustal _flamen_ and the other pontiffs. The populace became restless, impatient, noisy. They shouted, hooted; called out that they were tired of seeing nothing. “Come,” said Petronius, “I cannot further delay proceedings.” “We consent,” said the chief pontiff. “That is well.”