20 The Passion of Perpetua
(Roman Empire, 202 or 203 CE)

While we were still under house arrest (lit. under custody) and my father wished to upend my convictions with his words and—because of his affection—he persisted in driving me away from my faith, I said:  “Father, by way of example, do you see this vase standing here, a jug or some such?” He said: “I do.” And I told him:” Can it be called anything else than what it is?” And he said: “No.” “So I too cannot be called anything else than what I am, a Christian.”

Then my father, provoked by this word, hurled himself at me as if to tear out my eyes, but he only shook me roughly and left defeated, he and his diabolical reasons. Then for a few days I thanked the Lord for my father’s absence and was relieved. In the same period of a few days we were baptized, and the Spirit told me not to seek anything else from the water except the flesh’s endurance to suffering.  After a few days we were admitted into the prison, and I was frightened, because I had never experienced such deep darkness. What a grim day!  Because of the crowd the heat was intense, the soldiers harassed us, (but) worst of all there I was tormented by anxiety for my baby.

Then Tertius and Pomponius, blessed deacons who were providing for us, arranged for a bribe that we—having been sent to a better part of the prison—may relax (there) for a few hours. Then all the others leaving the dungeon had some time to themselves.  I breastfed the baby already exhausted by hunger. Anxious for him I spoke to my mother and comforted my brother, I entrusted them with the child; I was wasting away because I had seen them languish because of me. For many days I endured such anxieties; and I obtained permission to keep the child with me in prison; I immediately felt better and was relieved from the hardship and anxiety about the baby, and suddenly the jail became for me a palace, where I would rather be than in any other place.

Then my brother said to me: “My lady sister, you are now in such great grace that you may ask to be shown whether it will be martyrdom or release.” And I, since I knew I spoke with the Lord, whose grace I had experienced so abundantly, made a bold promise, saying to him:” Tomorrow I will report back to you.” And I did ask, and this was shown to me: I see a bronze ladder exceptionally high, touching the sky and so narrow that people could only climb in single file, and to the sides of the ladder all kinds of iron weapons were attached: there were double-edge swords, spears, hooks, single-edge swords, short spears, so that—should anyone climb carelessly or without looking upwards—he would be mangled and his flesh remained attached to the weapons. And under the ladder stretched a serpent of exceptional size, who laid in wait to attack the climbers and terrified them into not climbing. Saturus, who later on gave himself up voluntarily because he had instructed us and had not been present at the time when we were captured/arrested, went first. And he reached the top of the ladder, turned around and said to me: “Perpetua, I expect you, but watch out lest the dragon bite you.  I said: “in Jesus Christ’s name, he will not hurt me.” And he (the dragon) slowly put out his head from below the ladder, almost afraid of me, and I set my foot on his head and went up as if stepping on the first step. And I saw a widespread garden with a white-haired man dressed as a shepherd sitting in the middle, tall, milking his sheep, and all around stood many thousand white-clad people. He raised his head, looked at me and said: “Welcome, child,” and he called out to me and gave me about a morsel of the curd that he was milking; and I accepted it with my hands together and ate it; and all those around said: “Amen.” At the sound of his voice I woke up, still tasting some sort of sweetness.

And immediately I reported to my brother, and we understood that the suffering/martyrdom was about to come and began to no longer hold any hope in this world.

After a few days the news spread that our case would be heard.  My father, worn out with weariness, arrived from the city and came up to me to drive me from my beliefs, saying: Daughter, have pity on my white hair; have pity on your father, if I am worthy to be called father by you; if I raised you to the prime of life by these hands, if I preferred you to all your brothers: don’t dishonor me in the eyes of men. Look at your brothers, look at your mother and aunt, look at your child who will not be able to live after you. Let go of your pride, do not make us all into pariahs, for none of us will speak freely should you have suffered any punishment.

He kept saying these things because of his fatherly devotion, kissing my hands, throwing himself at my feet and crying he called me not daughter but lady and mistress. I was saddened by my father’s situation because he alone, of all my kin, would not rejoice about my suffering.  I comforted him saying: ” What will happen on that prisoners’ platform is God’s will. Know that we have not been created in our own power (i.e., masters of our own destiny; as independent beings) but in God’s power.” He went away from me in a gloomy mood.

On another day, while we were eating, we were suddenly whisked away to the hearing. We came to the forum. The news immediately spread through the places near the forum and a huge mass of people formed. We went up the platform. All the other prisoners confessed when questioned. When my time came, my father showed up there with my child and dragged me off the step saying: “Make the sacrifice, have pity on the baby.” The governor Hilarianus, who at that time—as a replacement for the late proconsul Minucius Timinianus—had received the authority to inflict capital punishment, said:” Spare your father’s white hair, spare the baby’s young age.  Make the sacrifice for the welfare of the emperors.” I answered: “I won’t.” Hilarianus asked: “Are you a Christian?” and I answered: “I am.” Since my father stood firm to make me recant, Hilarianus ordered him to be thrown down and he was beaten with a rod.  My father’s situation saddened me as if I had been beaten myself, I so grieved for his wretched old age. Then the governor sentenced all of us to the beasts, and we happily went down into the jail. Because the baby had become accustomed to be breastfed by me and to remain with me in jail, I immediately sent the deacon Pomponius to my father to request the child, but my father did not want to give him. As God wished, the baby no longer missed being breastfed nor did my breasts become inflamed so that I was not tormented by anxiety for my baby or by the pain in my breasts…