Gregory.
And I say unto you, be of good cheer! God does not die. 'Tis not from Julian that the danger comes. The danger was there long ere he arose, in the weakness and contentiousness of our hearts.
Cyrillus.
Oh, Gregory, how can you ask us to remain steadfast amid these horrors?—Brethren and sisters—know you what has happened in Arethusa? The unbelievers have maltreated the old bishop Marcus, dragged him by the hair through the streets, cast him into the sewers, dragged him up again, bleeding and befouled, smeared him over with honey and set him in a tree, a prey to wasps and poisonous flies.
Gregory.
And has not God's power been gloriously manifested in this very Marcus? What was Marcus before? A man of doubtful faith. When the troubles broke out in Arethusa, he even fled from the city. But behold—-no sooner had he heard in his hiding-place that the raging crew were avenging the bishop's flight on innocent brethren, than he returned of his own free will. And how did he bear the torments which so appalled even his executioners, that in order to withdraw with some show of credit, they offered to release him if he would pay a very trifling fine? Was not his answer: No—and no, and again no? The Lord God was with him. He neither died nor yielded. His countenance showed neither terror nor impatience. In the tree wherein he hung, he thanked
