“Oh, I am a slave. Who thinks of a slave any more than of an ass or a lapdog? It was through a severe scourging with the cat that I was brought to know Pedo.” “Tell me, how was that?” “Does my lady care for matters that affect her slave?” “Nay, good Blanda, we Christians know no difference between bond and free. All are the children of one God, who made man. Our master, though Lord of all, made Himself of no reputation, but took on Him the form of a servant; and was made subject for us.” “That is just how Pedo talks. We slaves have our notions of freedom and equality, and there is much tall talk in the servants’ hall on the rights of man. But I never heard of a master or mistress holding such opinions.” “Nevertheless this doctrine is a principle of our religion. Listen to this; the words are those of one of our great teachers: ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.’” “Was he a slave who said that?” “No; he was a Roman citizen.” “That I cannot understand. Yet perhaps he spoke it at an election time, or when he was an advocate in the forum. It was a sentiment; very fine, smartly put, but not to be practiced.” “There, Blanda, you are wrong. We Christians do act upon this principle, and it forms a bond of union between us.” “Well, I understand it not. I have heard the slaves declaim among themselves, saying that they were as good as, nay, better than, their masters; but they never whispered such a thought where were their masters’ ears, or they would have been soundly whipped. In the forum, when lawyers harangue, they say fine things of this sort; and when candidates are standing for election, either as a sevir or as a quatuorvir, all sorts of fine words fly about, and magnificent promises are made, but they are intended only to tickle ears and secure votes. None believe in them save the vastly ignorant and the very fools.” “Come, tell me about thyself and Pedo.” “Ah, lady, that was many years ago. I was then in the household of Helvia Secundilla, wife of Calvius Naso. On one occasion, because I had not brought her May‐dew wherewith to bathe her face to remove sun‐spots, she had me cruelly beaten. There were knucklebones knotted in the cat wherewith I was beaten. Thirty‐nine lashes I received. I could not collect May‐dew, for the sky was overcast and the herb was dry. But she regarded not my excuse. Tullia, my fellow‐slave, was more sly. She filled a flask at a spring and pretended that she had gathered it off the grass, and that her fraud might not be detected, she egged her mistress on against me. I was chastised till my back was raw.” “Poor Blanda!”