John of Ephesus, Ecclesiastical History, Part 3 -- Book 2
BOOK THE SECOND.
AT the commencement of the Second Book, John returns to his main subject, and, by way of introduction, repeats his account of the great grief of the bishops, when they found they had been deceived, and the determination to which they came of immediately breaking off all further communion with the patriarch. His words are as follows: [II. 1.] To return then to the narrative of the bishops, and the many trials and three separate imprisonments, and other things which they had to endure, and of which we have given a short account in the First Book, as was fitting there according to the order of the arrangement; directly they saw that they had been deceived, and that the many promises and repeated oaths made to them, to the effect that unity should be fully established, had been broken, having been thus induced by fraud twice to communicate, they were in sorrow and mourning and trouble without end, and in lamentation and bitter sighs, and finally determined and made up their minds, that never again should there be communion with them and the followers of the two natures for ever, even though they dragged them to death by the sword or fire. And on this account violent anger and great wrath was felt against them, and they were all sent into |85 exile for the third time, each one of them separately; so that now quickly they were removed far away from one another, and severe and bitter sentences passed upon them, and great was their distress in being thus separated and banished far away from their friends and relatives, and that, as the sentence ran, even until their deaths.
[II. 2.] Upon the bishops coming to this firm and mutual resolve, and determining and deciding, that never again would they communicate with the synodites for ever; and when further they resisted and stood up manfully against those in power, and much beyond recounting had been done and spoken on both sides, in great conflict and struggle, sentence of exile was finally in bitter gall decreed against them, each individually, without mercy. And first of all, Paul the patriarch was removed to the monastery of Abraham, and confined there. But while shut up he found a place where a scanty light entered his prison, and began in secret to write an account of what had been done in the church by John of Sirmin: but being watched, he was caught in the act of writing, and the book taken from him before it was finished. And they carried it to John, who took it in bitter wrath, and went and read it before the king; and when on hearing it he found that his own acts against the orthodox were regarded with disapproval, as well as those of the patriarch, he too was greatly enraged and embittered against Paul, and commanded that they should |86 take the book and lay it before Paul, and require him to confess whether he were the author: and should he do so, they were to make him write an acknowledgment with his own hand to that effect. On the other hand, should he refuse, they were to scourge him to the point of death, until he confessed, and then commit him again to his prison. The officers accordingly took the book to the monastery, and with great anger showed it him, and required him to confess in writing that he was its author. And he, as falsehood was useless, confessed that he wrote it, and upon their requisition made with his own hand the following acknowledgement, 'I Paul confess that with my own hand I wrote all these things which are in this book.' Upon which, leaving him in prison, they carried the book back to the king and the patriarch. And so great was their indignation, that they threatened Paul with death; and the more so, upon finding that he had embodied in it accusations also against Rome. And both Paul himself, and all men, were alarmed for his life, and expected that he would die a painful death, and perish from this present life.
[II. 3.] Stephan , however, bishop of Cyprus, was then |87 in great honour with the king, and boldly ventured to offer a petition in Paul's behalf, praying that he might be pardoned for his sake, and set free from the terrible misery in which he was confined. And the king accepted his intercession, and promised that if he would come to the capital, and take the communion in his company, all his offences should be forgiven him. Stephan therefore went to him, and after conversing with him, induced him by the terrors of death to yield himself up, and accordingly he came and communicated, and was taken into the patriarch's palace. And John, wishing to make sport of him before all men, assembled a large number of the senators, and certain also of the inhabitants of Alexandria, to which city Paul belonged , and made him receive the sacrament from his hands afresh, in the presence of them all, that even though he should wish afterwards to return, it might be, as he supposed, impossible. From this time the king every |88 day received him, and talked with him on many subjects, because he was a wise and intelligent man, and well read in books, and even often asked his advice on business of state, and repeatedly conversed and talked with him confidentially, until John was not a little alarmed, lest the king should deprive him of his office, and substitute Paul in his place. And as John was now in much trouble and solicitude, he began to sound the king, saying, 'If you, my lord, command, we will send father Paul as bishop to Jerusalem or to Thessalonica;' for both these thrones were vacant. But the king easily perceived his cunning, and, to frighten him the more, replied, 'Leave father Paul alone; for we want him here.' And this so alarmed him, that he was now thoroughly taken possession of and troubled by the idea: and therefore he gradually relaxed the vigilance with which Paul had been hitherto guarded, to prevent his escape, and left him without a keeper, and gave his friends full liberty of access to him, that he might have the opportunity of running away: and Paul, nothing loath, fled away, and John once again breathed freely.
The manner of his flight is narrated some few chapters further on as follows: [II. 8.] As it was now supposed that Paul of Antioch was sufficiently embued in the doctrine of the two natures, and John the patriarch was in great alarm at him, he joyfully took the opportunity of suggesting to him the idea of making his escape. And |89 as he was no longer guarded, after having spent so long a time in the bishop's palace, he mixed one evening with the people as they came down, and escaping among them unobserved, went for refuge to a place prepared for him among some ruins. And in time he was sought for, and could not be found: and John now being afraid of the king, went immediately and informed him of Paul's flight. And when he heard of it he was astonished, and filled with anger, and commanded that all the ferries should be occupied, and all ships searched, and all the houses in the outskirts of the whole city, and the suburbs, and monasteries: even the very tombs were opened, and they searched between the rows of corpses there: and, finally, urgent orders were sent to every town and city to the bishops and governors, with a description of his person that he might be recognised and seized: but still he remained undiscovered. Even his brother, who was admiral of the fleet, was arrested, and fell into much trouble. Meanwhile Paul during the whole of this time was hid, as they say, in the city, in a small chamber fixed in the wall, in which he found safety for nine months: and the vigilance of the watch having finally relaxed, he escaped with the privity of the household of Mondir, son of Hareth, into Arabia, where he met with a hospitable refuge until the time when the terrible retribution of Heaven fell upon the patriarch John. As the patriarch had been thus successful |90 separately with two of, the four bishops, whose constancy collectively he had been unable to break, namely, Stephan, bishop of Cyprus, and Paul, patriarch of Antioch, he determined next to force John of Ephesus to submission by equally decided measures, the account of which our author gives as follows :
[II. 4.] When, therefore, Paul had been induced by Stephan to go to the capital, and had been received there, and the synodites now felt quite sure of him, Stephan was next sent to John, surnamed, Superintendant of the heathen and Idol-breaker, as ambassador from the king and patriarch, accompanied by senators and a numerous retinue, to the hospital of Eubulus , an which, after his two former imprisonments in the patriarch's palace, and the separation of the bishops from one another, he had been confined in the house of afflictions, (or penitentiary,) and none of his acquaintance on any pretext permitted to visit him. Hither, then, the embassy came, and addressed the prisoner as follows:— 'Our lords, the victorious king and patriarch , very lovingly ask thy health, and advise thee to |91 free thyself from this misery, and come and join thy brethren, my lord Paul the patriarch, and my lord Elisha, and rejoice them, as also our merciful king himself, and the holy patriarch; and ye shall again discuss the best means for restoring unity.' But he, on hearing these things, was stirred up with great zeal to answer those who had come to him fiercely and sternly, with anathemas and reproaches and insults too many to record in writing: and so Stephan and his companions retired, embittered and indignant at him. After the lapse of a day they were again sent unto him, beseeching him in the merciful person of the king and patriarch, and saying, 'For the sake of the unity of the church, yield thyself up, and come and let us converse, and do not thus persist in opposition to union.' But they had for answer from him things even sterner than before; for he said: 'Even that former unity I reject before God and man; for it has proved only an overthrowing and an uprooting and a downfall:' and much more too he added of a similar kind. And after they had often visited him, but he would neither submit nor yield to their persuasions, finally they said, 'Inasmuch as we know what you will have to suffer, and have heard the threats of death denounced against you, and that you will not be put to death merely, but in a most painful way, feeling sincere sorrow for you, we wish to say, that we are innocent of the miseries which you will have to bear.' But upon hearing this, he |92 burnt with zeal, and expressed his detestation of them, saying, 'Even though you eat me roasted, if I be but quit of the sight of you, I am ready on these terms to be delivered to a painful death.' And so, to be brief, they departed from him. But Stephanus secretly paid him a solitary visit, to tell him of the threats of death determined upon against him, and said, 'See, I have come to thee, that I may not witness the evils that will fall upon thee; look to thyself.' But though much was said, he could not bend his determined spirit, and finally left him, and departed for Cyprus.
[II. 5.] The first addition, however, to the bitter misery of his imprisonment arose from a painful attack of the gout, which affected both his hands and feet, so that he lay like one dead, unable to stir himself, or move either hand or foot: and in this state he was cut off from all human solicitude, and especially from the care which his relatives would gladly have shown him. But besides this he was tormented night and day with the numerrous vermin with which his prison swarmed. For, first of all he was eaten up with innumerable lice, and the cell, moreover, in which he was imprisoned was full of fleas, which day and night; tormented him out of his life; nor was this all, for the fetid smell of the hospital attracted infinite numbers of flies and gnats, which settled upon him, and neither could he move a hand to chase them away, nor was there any one to drive them from him. And the fourth and bitterest |93 trial of all was occasioned by the bugs at night, which then left their hidingplaces, and covered both him and the mattress on which he lay till his face and eyes were inflamed and swollen, nor could he brush them away. And another, and that his fifth trial, arose from gnats, which, in company with the vermin last mentioned, all night long stung him like fire, especially upon the face, and every part of his body not covered with the bedclothes. And so great was his distress, and the inflammation caused by the five plagues, which encompassed his body within and without, that he wept and lamented, but there was no man to come to his cry, either by night or by day, though he burnt like fire from the stings of all these vermin. And, moreover, Satan brought upon him yet a sixth trial, in some mice which climbed up and made their nest under the pillow which supported his head, and all night long they were scratching and squeaking there. All these distresses were added to the pain of imprisonment and sickness, with no one to help him: and it may be that the record of these things will excite the laughter and ridicule of those who have never been tried, nor fallen, into misery, and who, in the words of our Lord, should rather watch and pray that they enter not into trial.
[II. 6.] From the exhaustion caused by these tortures, and the inflamed state of his body from the stings of these manifold and bitter vermin, the aforesaid John came almost to his last breath: |94 for besides the bitter pains which tormented him, there was the hopelessness of his neglected state, while he looked for some one to pity him, and there was no man, and for a comforter, and one was not found; and that such was his state, from the severity of his trials, he himself afterwards repeatedly declared, both in numerous letters, and in his defence addressed to the synod of the east, and to all classes of the believers, in which he described all these things, and the vision which he saw, protesting before God that he did not exceed the bounds of truth, nor add a single word either to the narrative of his sufferings or to the facts of the vision which appeared unto him openly. And the account which he gave, as in the sight of all men, was as follows:—'When I was scourged by all these trials, and was sick in spirit, and despaired of my life, there came one day a youth of beautiful aspect, clad in a white tunic with fringes of spotless purity, and as he gently approached me, I imagined that he was one of the attendants upon the sick, who after the midday meal, when all were sleeping, and the doors closed, and silence everywhere prevailed, had visited me because I was inflamed and feverish, both from the annoyance of the vermin and my grievous pains. Approaching me quietly, he said, 'Peace be to thee, father! What is thy cry? How art thou? Fear not.' And I, indeed in the deep affliction of my spirit caused by my great misery, said unto him, 'Why askest thou, my son, when thou |95 thyself seest me in such great torture?' But the young man said unto me, 'Cheer up, father, and let not thy spirit be sad, but give thanks unto God, who hath not left thee: for thy affliction is not forgotten by Him.' And I replied, 'What cheer or what consolation can there be for me, who die miserably, not merely from the violence of these cruel pains, which, as my sins deserve, are laid upon me, but also from all these vermin which encompass me, and eat me up, and I have none to bear me in their mind, that I might at least be comforted by the sight of them?' And he said, 'We know that thou art afflicted; and that there is no man to take care of thee: and, moreover, that thou art tormented with pain, and with the vermin, and therefore have I come unto thee, to visit and encourage thee. For I know also that thou art thirsty, and that; there is no one to give thee water, and therefore have I brought thee a cooling draught: God will help thee; cheer up; and know, that as great as is thy present affliction, so will God multiply thy recompense. Be not sad, nor faint in spirit.' And when he had so spoken, and much to this effect, he went out and returned, bearing a cup, in which were wondrous mixtures which sparkled: like fire; and he gave it me, and I drank it with joy and delight, and my spirit was refreshed, and I gave thanks unto God. And to the youth, I told my gratitude, and said, 'God have mercy upon thee, my son, in that thou hast done unto me this kindness, and hast visited and |96 comforted and cheered me.' And after he had consoled me with many words, and said, 'To-morrow I will visit thee again at this time,' he went away: and I was so cheered by the sight and speech of the young man, that all my pains and miseries grew light. And again on the morrow he came at the same time, and asked me of my state, saying, 'Cheer up, and be not sad; for great shall be thy reward which thou shall receive from God for thy heavy affliction : and thou shalt be delivered from thy distress, and thy people shall assemble themselves to thee: for God is with thee. Let not thy spirit be sad.' And after thus talking with me for some time, he departed. And on the third day, when my eyes were straining in hope of his coming, he came not: and I was greatly distressed, and in deep affliction. But on the fourth day he came again at the same hour, and said, 'I know that thou art distressed, because I came not to thee yesterday: but be not grieved, for I will not forsake thee.' And again he spake much to comfort me, and so departed. And thus for eight days he came to and fro to me, and I was in wonder at his comeliness, and the beauty of his features, and at the speech and knowledge of the young man so lovely of aspect. And after he had come in unto me and gone out eight times, the syncellus of the patriarch visited me to sound me, and after he had used to me many arguments, I finally replied, 'Your treatment of me is on a par with your schismatic faith; for you act to me like |97 heathens, and do a heathen deed, in that when you see me in this extreme misery, you fear not God enough to grant me even one of my servants, whom you have shut up in prison, to wait upon me.' And after he had replied, and much had passed between us, and I had sharply handled him, and rebuked him, he went out from me in hot anger, and brought me one of my servants, and said, 'See, here is a servant to wait upon you, and curse us no more:' and so saying, he angrily departed. And from the time I had a servant, the young man came not again, nor did I ever see him more. And when I was astonished and vexed at this, still supposing,that he was one of the attendants, I said to the officer who guarded me, 'A young man of your attendants used to come to me, and comfort me, and visit me: but for some days from the time that I have had a servant to wait upon me, he has come to me no more. Tell me, who is he? and is he ill?' And the guard enquired, 'What was the young man like?' And he answered, 'He was of a beautiful aspect, and very handsome in person, and bright and fair in countenance, and clad in a tunic of spotless white, with rows of embroidery above and below.' And the keeper said, 'None of our attendants resembles what you describe.' But he answered, 'I assure you that for eight days he came in unto me and went out, and comforted and cheered me, and talked with me wisely and sensibly:' but the keeper said, 'We have no such person as you describe.' And then he went and |98 collected all the servants, and set them before him, and said, 'See, here are all the attendants, nor have we any besides: look if any of them is he.' And when he had attentively considered them all, he acknowledged that it was not any one of them. Upon which the keeper said, 'A vision of . God has appeared unto thee, and visited thee, my father: and one of the angels or of the saints has been sent unto thee, to strengthen and encourage thee: for we have no such person as you describe.' And thereupon John was in astonishment, and being full of wonder and amazement, he carefully considered the words and the wisdom and the answers of that youth of wonderful aspect, and said, 'I verily looked upon him as one of the attendants, but God knows who and what he is: but me he hath greatly helped; for he brought me a cup of mixtures, at which I wondered, so bright were they and admirable; and all my pains were lightened. And I myself was astonished at the wise and edifying words which came out of his mouth, and wondered whether one so excellent attended merely upon the sick in your hospital. Henceforward, therefore, in admiration of the goodness of God which has been shown us, we will praise, as in duty bound, the God Who doeth all in His love, and Who alone knoweth the vision of this young man, and who it was that visited us, and alleviated our misery.'
[II. 7.] In this prison John passed twelve months and nine days, in addition to his two confinements in |99 the patriarch's palace: but as even this did not appease the malice of John of Sirmin, orders came for his removal from the hospice, and transportation to an island in the sea, where he was again imprisoned, and treated with great rigour, strict orders being given that none of his friends should on any account be permitted to speak to him. But when he had spent upon the island a period of eighteen months, the chastisement of God overtook the patriarch in so marked a manner as to cause fear and astonishment and terror to both sides alike. And so, finally, upon the command of the Caesar Tiberius, orders were sent to free John from his prison, and bring him to the capital, where he dwelt under the surveillance of keepers' rather more than three years, until the death of the persecutor, John of Sirmin.
All these things will be found also in the numerous letters written by him to various persons as soon as he obtained his freedom, together with the vision of the young man who came to him. And let no one who falls in with both the former narrative and also this present account be surprised if he find that they differ from one another in some points being added and others left out: since the utmost he professes is to give a succinct account of what took place for the glory of God. He has omitted, therefore, and passed by much in his former narrative on account of its too great length, while other particulars he has more fully recorded, and especially some of |100 the details of the vision, and other points, it may be, as well, though even in them he has used the greatest possible brevity, in order that they might simply be short memorials, and lest, should he relate them too fully, they should be regarded as wearisome by such as afterwards fall in with them.
The determination of the king and patriarch to compel all parties to accept the council of Chalcedon not only brought ecclesiastics into trouble, but also many of the chief laity at court. For as Sophia had originally been brought up in Theodora's tenets, most of the officers of her household belonged to the Monophysite party, and apparently had not hitherto been interfered with. But now determined measures were taken to bring them to obedience, and John details the resistance made by many of them, and even by ladies, in the following succession of narratives.
[II. 9.] At this time, when every body was possessed by great fear at the stern and terrible threats of the king, many grew alarmed, and submitted themselves to communion. For he even gave orders that no one should attend his levee to salute him on Easterday unless he had previously partaken of the sacrament in his company. As disobedience to this command entailed loss of office as well as the king's displeasure, most of them were terrified, and went over to his communion. A few, however, stayed away, though convinced that by so doing they passed |101 sentence of death upon themselves, so taken were most of them by abject terror. Among these was Andrew, the queen's chamberlain and purse-bearer, a man of active and fervent zeal, and earnest in the ways of virtue from his youth up, and constant in fasting and prayer. At the commencement of the persecution most of the chamberlains, and ladies of the court, and the queen's chief officer of the household, whose name was Stephan, were members of the orthodox community, and had been so from the days of Theodora; but they were prevailed upon by fear, and submitted to take the communion with the king from the hands of the synodites; but Andrew alone was firm, and stood up manfully with mind fully prepared to struggle even unto death. Their majesties therefore, and the chamberlains on both sides, with the view of obtaining favour, attacked him with strife and argument: but he was not in the least frightened at them all, nor ceased from contending with them, nor gave way: and this made the king repeatedly utter the most fearful threats of death itself against him. And as he still would not yield a single point, nor humble himself, nor shew fear of him, the king once grew so angry that he even struck him with his hands in a fury, because he so boldly and firmly resisted him, answering in his turn when he required him to communicate with those who acknowledged the synod, and arguing, and manfully resisting him in words such as the following: 'I confess that you are my lord, and I am |102 your slave: and my body is in your hands, to do with it whatsoever you will: but over my soul you have no power, for it is in the hands of God, and my faith is for ever, and neither shall ye nor any other change it, because I believe in God.' And in this way constantly every day they argued one with the other. And as both their majesties loved him for his nobleness and virtue, and valued his good sense and knowledge, they were the more anxious to obtain his submission, that he might still remain in their service: and the king even said in the presence of several of his courtiers, 'What shall we do with this audacious fellow who resists and disobeys us? for such a mind and brain as he possesses is not in all our court besides, so that we do not wish to send him away, nor can we possibly let him stay if he refuse us his obedience.' Accordingly they long bore with him in the hope that finally they would convert him, but when he gave no signs of yielding, the king at length briefly said to him, 'Either submit to us, and take the communion with us, or get out of our palace.' Upon which Andrew immediately divested himself of his robe of office , and joyfully laying it at the king's feet, said, 'Never hast thou shown me a greater kindness than this, in separating me from the service of men, and making me give myself to His ministry and service, Who created me and brought me into the world; for henceforth I will serve |103 Him alone.' So saying, he left the king's court, and was confined in a miserable prison in the building called "the palace of Hormisdas :" and there, after some time, he received a visit from the king's curator, who was sent partly to coax and partly to terrify him, and see whether he would give way, and communicate with them, and not lose his post. The conference lasted for a long time, and at first the curator had recourse only to admonitions and flatteries and persecutions: but when he saw that he would not give way, he began to threaten and terrify him, saying, 'Look to thy life, lest I be compelled to execute upon thee, what I have been commanded.' Upon which Andrew bent down his neck, and stretching out his head before him, said, 'Thou art not a living man, and may God shew thee no mercy if thou dost not bring thy sword and take off my head. But do not mistake, either thou or those that sent thee, and suppose that I ever have on any account held communion with those who divide into two our Lord Jesus Christ, or ever will—the Lord forbid. And may God shew thee no mercy, if thou dost not at once take off my head, and rid me of the burden of this life.' |104 Upon hearing this, the curator departed, and carried his report to the king and queen, who greatly wondered, but also were vexed at his conduct: and in hope still of making him give way, they gave orders for his removal and imprisonment in the monastery of Dalmatus , which was the highest in rank of all the religious houses both in the capital and its suburbs. They brought him out, therefore, and removed him in the most public manner by day, in the hope of frightening him: but Andrew, as they led him through the city amidst crowds of people, was full of joy and eagerness, and gave praise to God that he was accounted worthy to suffer imprisonment for the true faith, while the mob ran together to see the queen's purse-bearer stripped of worldly office, and conducted to prison for the true faith's sake. And all men wondered at him, and many glorified God who had given him the strength thus to despise the world; and many too were confirmed in the faith when thus they saw him cheerful and joyous, and gave praise to God on his account. But the monks and others who had |105 charge of him tried to pull up the hood of his cloak to cover his head: but he uncovered it, saying, 'It is a great glory to me to die for Christ's truth: and no man may make my glorying vain.' His imprisonment lasted three years, at the end of which came the chastisement of his persecutors, and he was set free, but not restored to his office at court.
[II. 10.] From this history of her pursebearer, our historian proceeds to give a sketch of the empress Sophia, who, he says, during the lifetime of her aunt, the late queen Theodora, from her youth up to within three years before she ascended the throne, used to take the communion with the orthodox, and entirely rejected the communion of the synodites, that is, of those who held that there were two natures in our Lord. And this was a thing known publicly to everybody, and that also a presbyter named Andrew regularly went, and consecrated the communion in her house, and administered it to her, and to all the members of her household: and when he was reserving the consecrated elements, she used to tell him to put by one pearl,—for so they called the pieces of bread,—and place it upon the patten under the cloth; and no one knew who received the pearl so put by except the patrician Sophia, though it was supposed by every one that it was the merciful Justin himself who took it in secret, as he also had an aversion to the communion of those who held the two |106 natures. Whether or not this was true, we cannot vouch, but have recorded it on hearsay, as being the opinion generally entertained by every body. The conversion of Sophia to the communion of the two natures was brought about in the following way: His late majesty Justinian had long been solicited by many influential members of his court to appoint Justin, his sister's son, to the office of Caesar; but he kept putting it off, and refusing them. At length a certain Theodore, upon his consecration to the bishopric of Caesarea, and whose doom God alone knows for his many evil deeds, had an interview with Sophia, and said to her, 'Be well assured, both of you, that the reason why your uncle has listened to no one, nor consented to appoint his sister's son as Caesar, is his indignation at you for opposing him in communicating with those of whom he disapproves, and not communicating with him. For how can he appoint you to share the royal rank with him, if you are manifestly opposed to him? Listen therefore to me, and go and communicate at Church, and content the king, and then he will content you.' And Sophia being persuaded by his representations gave way, but her union with the synod took place only three years before she became queen.
[II. 11.] From this account of the empress Sophia, which naturally followed the mention of Andrew, her pursebearer, our historian returns to the fortunes of the other chief members of the |107 orthodox party at Constantinople. Among these were three men of consular rank, named John, Peter, and Eudaemon, who counted their lives in the body as nothing compared with the spiritual life by a true faith in Christ; and firmly refused therefore to hold communion with those who divided Him. On this account there was anger against them even unto death, and the turning away of faces; but when every moment they were expecting trial, and the ruin of their estates and families, and of all that they possessed, and everybody felt certain of their utter destruction, God, who saw that they were contending unto death for His name's sake, and for a true faith in Him, saved them. For inasmuch as many members of the senate, and chamberlains, and other nobles, had been prevailed upon by terror to enter into communion with the Chalcedonians, the murmuring occasioned by the violence and compulsion generally used, at length reached the king's ears, and led him to say in the presence of many senators, with the view of making it appear that he prevailed upon no one by violence, as though any one was prevailed upon except by a violence too strong for him to bear: however, be this as it may, God put it into his mind to say words such as these, 'We neither have, nor will we force any one of those who have not submitted to us to communicate with us: we leave them to their own will.' And this declaration of the king's determination rescued them, and they were no longer exposed to trials |108 on account of their faith: but, on the contrary, they finally reached the highest dignities, and enjoyed the fullest freedom; so that the illustrious Eudaemon, who became Comes Privati , an office which gave him the charge of the king's privy purse; and the illustrious John, who was descended from king Anastasius, and the son moreover of queen Theodora's daughter ; and, lastly, Peter, who was of the family of Peter the Patrician, the queen's curator, were sent to make a treaty of peace with the Persians, in behalf of the whole Roman state. And this great embassy was entrusted to them in spite of their continuing to hold the truth, as they had ever done, in full assurance. The patriarch John, however, erased their names from the diptych — an act which caused them great joy: for they said, 'Now we know that God hath pleasure in us, and hath looked upon us, seeing that we are no longer mentioned at the communion of those |109 who divide Christ into two, after the true indivisible union.'
[II. 12.] Less fortunate were two ladies of equally high birth, who with others of patrician rank were fiercely attacked on all sides, breathing out terrible threats of fire, and menaces of death. And the rest, from the overwhelming misery of the persecution, fainted in the conflict, and for their wealth's sake, and houses and children and substance, submitted to communion, as far as form alone went. But these two boldly resisted unto death, and counted as nothing their possessions, and children and households. Of these the elder, whose name was Antipatra, was the mother-in-law of the consul John mentioned in the preceding narrative, and her daughter Georgia, who was also of consular rank, and a zealous believer, was John's wife. The other lady, whose name was Juliana, was the daughter of the consul Magnes, who himself was on one occasion banished with all his family, and Juliana among them, though he also was descended from king Anastasius: and subsequently Juliana herself became sister-in-law of king Justin, having married his brother. After much contention, therefore, and a manly contest, they placed both these ladies in nunneries, upon the straits of Chalcedon, and strict injunctions were given, and orders sent to the convents, in which they were severally confined, that unless they would consent to communion, their hair was to be shorn in monastic fashion, and they were to |110 wear the black dress used by the nuns, and be further compelled to perform the most menial labours. And these orders were strictly carried out, and they were made to sweep the convent, and carry away the dirt, and scrub and wash out the latrinse, and serve in the kitchen, and wash the candlesticks and dishes, and perform other similar duties. And as they could not endure and bear with patience such annoyances as these, they also, as far as appearance went, submitted to the Chalcedonian communion, to be set free, and escape from their miserable imprisonment in these convents, if convents they may be called. Upon their submission, they were allowed to return home, and restored to their former rank: but soon the time of chastisement from God came upon both king and patriarch, and they and all men breathed freely once again after their troubles.
[II.13.] There were also two presbyters who underwent a great conflict for the faith's sake, and who both bore the same name of Sergius; of whom one had been the writer's own syncellus , and the other his disciple. While then John was imprisoned in the penitentiary of the hospital of Eubulus, the two Sergiuses were seized, |111 after having long refused to conform, and thrown into prison. Their arrest was effected through the treachery of a relative, who professed to be of their party, but who, after thus playing the part of another Judas, was himself apprehended, and hurried off to the bishop's palace, and imprisoned there. Upon their arrest the two priests resisted those sent to seize them, and argued and disputed sharply with them, until they grew angry, and before a vast crowd they stripped them of their clothing, and tying them up scourged them publicly with the utmost severity, but were not able to break their constancy. And so manfully and with such spirit did they endure and persist in their resistance, that their persecutors wondered at them, and finally imprisoned them in a diaconate . Already they had repeatedly endured the horrors of imprisonment twice both together in the patriarch's palace, and Sergius, the syncellus, once by himself in a monastery called Beth-Rabula ; and their present confinement, which began in February, and lasted forty days, was aggravated by a severe frost. For Sergius the syncellus, the patriarch had a great regard, and sent for him, and advised and coaxed and persuaded him to dwell |112 with him in his palace, and be his cellarius ; even offering him his solemn promise, that if he would consent, he should not be compelled to take the communion with him: he also added, that 'as I hear of you, that you are a pious man and a monk, abide with us, and be whatever you wish: but if you will consent to take the communion with us, I will immediately make you bishop of whatever city you please.' But Sergius manfully refused, and as he could bow his conviction of the truth neither by promises nor flattering words, and saw his firmness and immoveable constancy, he sent him to the monastery of Beth-Rabula, where however he was treated with considerable kindness, the monks not being ill-inclined to the faith as the rest were, and having no love for the council of Chalcedon, nor even proclaiming it in their worship.
There was also a presbyter named Andrew, who had shut himself up in one of the towers of the city wall; whence he was torn at the patriarch's orders by a band of clergy and Romans, who broke open his place of concealment, and pulled him out. But as they dragged and tore him along, they arrived at length in the middle |113 of the city; and on seeing a large crowd assembled there, he began to cry out, 'Help! help! men: I am a Christian, and an orthodox: and if these who drag me along are not heathens, but Christians, as they say, why do they persecute and murder Christians? And why do they drag me through the midst of you, and ye rest quiet, and shew no zeal for Christ's sake?' As he repeated these and similar cries, a large crowd rapidly ran together, and their eyes flashed with wrath against those who had him in charge, as if they would slay them. And when they saw the anger and zeal of all the multitude against them, they ran away, and hid themselves; and so the people delivered the blessed Andrew from their violence. Subsequently, however, he was again arrested, and imprisoned in the monastery of "the sleepless;" whence also, after a protracted imprisonment, and much suffering, he escaped: but having set people to watch for him, they again seized and imprisoned him in the patriarch's palace; but even from thence, after taking part in several disputations, he again managed to make his escape.
Among the various charitable institutions at Constantinople which had sprung from Christianity, no mean place was held by the diaconates , which were institutions for the care of the sick and persons in distress. The utility of them was |114 the greater, because, while the hospitals were attended only by clergy, monks and nuns, the diaconates gave an opportunity to pious laymen also to devote themselves to works of active benevolence: while in those specially set apart for women, numerous ladies, who might otherwise have found no fitting field for their energies, piously tended the suffering members of Christ's [II. 15.] flock. Among those at the capital, two especially were famous for their size and reputation, and both belonged to the orthodox communion. Of these, the first and largest was founded by the divine Paul of Antioch, who, filled with zeal, visited the chief and most famous cities of both East and West, and founded in them diaconates, in which the word of our Lord was visibly fulfilled, that 'this is my rest:' for their object was to give rest to those whom trouble had distressed. On no account, however, would he accept the services of any in the diaconates which he founded who agreed with the synod of Chalcedon.
At the period when the persecution broke out, the head of this diaconate was a great and famous and notable man named Thallus, who had largely increased and multiplied its ministrations by his many spiritual and divine qualities, upon which alone much might be written; and the diaconate continued to flourish under his care, until, by the envy of the devil, an information was laid before the king and bishop, that all the members were opposed to the council of Chalcedon, and had admitted into their fraternity |115 many monks and clergymen, and that meetings for worship, and communions and love-feasts were held there. Upon this the blessed Thallus was compelled to send away the clergy and monks, that he might give no occasion to those who were ready to find fault, but he resolutely continued his care of the sick with the aid of laymen only. And when this reached the ears of those in power, because they honoured and admired the man and his ways, they let him alone, and interfered no more all the days of his life. His death took place in the year eight hundred and eighty-eight, (A. D. 577,) and a silversmith named Romanus was appointed principal in his stead.
[II. 16.] At the head of the other diaconate at this time was a clergyman named Cometes, who also was an active and virtuous man. Originally he had been one of the clergy of the house of my lady Mary of Blachernae , but was expelled for the |116 faith sake with many others, whom, however, he prevailed upon to keep together, and live with all the strictness of the monastic rule, while he took charge of them in every thing. Soon afterwards some one who admired his virtues bequeathed him a large hall, capable of being turned into a diaconate, to which use he put it, and actively employed himself in ministering in it to all the wants of the poor. At the time, however, of the persecution, an accusation was brought against him of holding assemblies for the administration of the holy communion, and the hall was confiscated, and formally closed by an imperial brief suspended on the door. Cometes was himself banished to an island, and all |117 his fraternity, except a few, dispersed: but his fate did not deter these few from continuing their labours; for retiring to another place, they still devoted themselves, according to their rule, to ministering and tending the poor.
[II. 17.] Nor was it merely at the capital that the orthodox communities thus suffered, but the persecution carried on there so determinately and despotically, and unremittingly, was the cause of the same violent measures being stirred up against them in every province of the Roman empire, wherever any orthodox communities were to be found. And this persecution was excited by the letters written by John the patriarch, and others: for he was swollen with rage like the waves of the sea, and, like some blazing Babylonian furnace, inflamed not with twigs and brushwood, and other such materials, but with wrath and heat of temper, and eagerness for ruin and slaughter, he burnt and blazed fearfully and terribly, adding to his violence to men's persons those evil deeds which generally go therewith, such as the plundering of their goods and spoiling of their property, on the pretext of their faith; as also painful imprisonments, and heavy chains, and tortures, and the scourge and exile, and the like, in every land and city and village of the realm.
[II. 18.] Thus far then we profess that we have written that only of which we were eyewitnesses, and |118 near spectators of the chief trials recorded, or actual sufferers ourselves during the whole period to which our narrative extends: but we have thought it right now to chronicle events, which we neither saw, nor learnt of our own knowledge, nor can testify to their truth ourselves, inasmuch as we were far away from the countries in which they occurred; but which nevertheless we had, not from private individuals, or men of inferior rank, but from the chief Catholicus of Dovin, the capital of Persarmenia, and the bishops who accompanied him, and who narrated these events in the presence of multitudes in this the royal city of us Romans; for having escaped from the dominions of the Persians, they came for refuge to a Christian realm, and were received with great honour by their victorious majesties; and their narrative scrupulously given as upon oath, and in the presence of a numerous auditory, was as follows:
Revolt of Armenia from the Persians.
When the Magians and princes of the Persians learnt that by the commandment and will of the king of the Romans, all persons, in every land and city of his dominions, were required to conform themselves. and come over to his faith; and that such as refused and were disobedient to his will and commandment, were by his orders persecuted and imprisoned, and their goods spoiled, and finally delivered up even to death; lo! said they, in all the dominions of the Romans these |119 things are now being done, and it is but just for us also to do the same in all our dominions, and convert to our own religion all other religions within our realm.