“————————This pale and false Vopiscus Hath from great Probus wrung his easy mandate; Him Asia owns her præfect, if Olybius Obey not this fell edict.” * * * Much art and great argument were privately used to produce her recantation; to which she calmly answers— —————————“Who disown their Lord On earth, will He disown in heaven!” * * * Sent to the arena; the torture and execution of the prisoners proceed, according to the order of their arraignment. The populace become enraged, and loudly demand the blood of the apostate priestess; while the præfect, in his palace, digests a plan to _surely_ save her life. The high-priest of Apollo, her father, in his robes of office and with his official attendants, must boldly enter the arena, and offer pardon, in the name of his god, to any one who utters the cabalistic word signifying “I RECANT;” must hastily apply to each in person; at Margarita, one instructed must imitate her voice; instantly the priest is to throw the mantle of the god upon her; and the attendants, by force, to carry her to the palace of Olybius, where, instead of her execution, her marriage with Olybius is to take place. The procession of priests (of whom none but her father, and her sister in disguise as a proxy for the act of recantation, knew the secret) are urged instantly to action: “For,” says Olybius, “my very soul is famished in every moment of delay!” The procession moves in all pomp and splendour, with a view to produce an alterative effect on the mind of the maddened populace. Its approach to the arena is proclaimed by a sentinel there; on hearing which, Margarita falls at the feet of the _headsman_, and successfully implores instant death, that her father may be spared the misery of witnessing it. She breathes a prayer in forgiveness of Olybius, and receives the stroke of death as the procession enters. The father rages, demands torture to make the Christians say how they enthralled her: a Christian teacher explains, as with “a still, small voice;” the priests of Apollo listen! Rage and excitement had reached the utmost bound. There was a pause, as the recess between two raging storms. The stillness reached even the palace, and reason did feel as if “There was darkness over all the land. Olybius, then:— What means this deathlike stillness? Not a sound Or murmur, from yon countless multitudes; A pale, contagious horror seems to creep Even to our palace. Men gaze mutely round, As in their neighbour’s face to read a secret They dare not speak themselves: Even thus, along his vast domains of silence, Dark Pluto gazes, when the sullen spirits Speak only with fixed look and voiceless motion. 'Tis misery! Speak; Olybius orders; speak to me, Nor let mine own voice, like an evil omen, Load this hot air unanswered.”