Maximus heard the teaching of Valerian and Tiburce, and was moved by it. He was given leave by the other officers to take them to his own house, where the two saints preached to him and to his family. All the officers were present, too, and all were converted to the true faith by the holy words of the gospel.
Cecilia herself came to the house late that night, accompanied by priests who baptized all those assembled there. Afterwards, at break of day, she spoke to them in a clear calm voice. ‘You are all now warriors of Christ Jesus our Saviour. Renounce the works of darkness. Put on the bright armour of righteousness. You have fought a battle against the devil, and you have won it. Your course is almost done, and you have preserved your faith. Now take up the crown of eternal life. God Almighty will place it on your heads, as the reward you deserve.’ When she had finished, some officers of the court arrived to take Valerian and Tiburce to the temple of Jupiter.
When they were led before the image of the god they refused to make any sacrifice to it. They declined to bow down before it or offer incense to the idol. Instead they fell to their knees and prayed to the true God. So they were beheaded on the spot, and their souls rose into heaven.
Maximus was present at their execution, and afterwards related that he had seen the souls of the two saints ascending to paradise in the company of bright angels. He wept many times as he told this story to others, but his tears converted them all to the true faith. When he heard of this, Almachius ordered that he should be whipped to death with cords of lead.
Saint Cecilia then took up his body and buried it beside the graves of Valerian and Tiburce, where they shared a simple stone. But then Almachius struck. He ordered that the virgin should herself be taken to the temple of Jupiter, where she would be obliged to venerate the idol with incense.
But the officers of his court had been converted by her preaching. They wept aloud, and proclaimed their belief in the Christian faith. ‘We believe that Christ is the son of God,’ they told him. ‘We believe that He was God in human form. We know this to be true. The holy maid is His servant. We swear to this, even if we are condemned to death.’
When the prefect of the city heard of these things, he ordered that Cecilia should be brought before him. He asked her first about her rank and degree. ‘I was born and raised a gentlewoman, ’ she told him.
‘Now let me know this,’ Almachius replied. ‘What religion do you espouse? What are your beliefs?’
‘That is a foolish question, sir. You are asking me two things at once. That’s silly.’
‘Why are you so impudent to me?’ Almachius asked her.
‘Why? Because I have a clear conscience. Because I have come here in good faith.’
‘Do you have no respect for my power?’
‘Your power is very small. The authority of any man is no more than a bladder filled with wind. The point of a pin will puncture it. Then there is nothing.’
‘You began in the wrong tone. Now you are being offensive. Do you not know that the rulers of the land have ordained that all Christians will be arrested and punished. But, if they renounce their so-called faith, they will escape any penalty?’
‘Your rulers are mistaken. You and the other nobles are also wrong. You make us guilty by passing a foolish law. You know very well that we are innocent of any crime. We are Christians, who honour the name of Christ. That is all. Where is our offence? We will never renounce the cause that we know to be true and just.’
‘You have a choice,’ Almachius replied. ‘Renounce your faith or suffer death. There is no other way.’
When she heard this, Cecilia began to laugh. ‘Oh, sir, you are a simpleton. Do you think that I would renounce my innocence in order to become a sinner? Do you not see that you are making a fool of yourself? You stamp and stare. You rage at me as if you had lost your mind.’
‘Foolish woman! You do not know the extent of my power. The rulers of this land have given me the power of life and death, over you and everyone else. How dare you speak to me like that? You are puffed up with pride!’
‘I speak nothing but the truth. I am not proud. We have been taught as Christians to hate the sin of pride. And if you want to hear another truth, then I will tell you this. You have lied. You have said that our rulers have granted you the power of life and death. You can take away only the mortal life. You have no other jurisdiction. So you can be the minister of death. But that is all.’
‘Enough of your impudence,’ he said. ‘Make sacrifice to Jupiter. Then be on your way. I do not care what you say about me. I can endure that like a philosopher. But there is one thing I will not permit. I cannot allow you to speak ill of our native gods.’
‘Oh foolish man,’ she replied. ‘You have said nothing to me that has not been vain and ill-considered. You are an incompetent officer and a presumptuous judge. You might as well be blind, for all the good your eyes are. Can’t you tell that this idol is made of stone? You have announced that a piece of granite is a god. Put your hand on it. If you cannot see it, taste it. Can’t you tell? It is made of stone. It is a shame that all the people will be laughing at you for your foolishness. It is known that the Lord God is in the heavens. Anyone can tell that these stone images are of no use or value. Do you not see that they have no purpose? They are cold. They are lifeless.’
Her words enraged Almachius. He ordered his officers to take her back to her house, and there burn her to death. ‘Bathe her in flame,’ he said. ‘Clean her.’ They followed his orders literally. They placed her in a bath, pinioned her, and then lit great fires beneath her that were fed with logs night and day.
All that night, and for most of the next day, she felt no pain; she remained quite cool, and did not burn. There was not a drop of sweat upon her forehead. Yet she was still destined to die in that bath. Almachius, frustrated of his purpose, sent one of his servants to slay her as she lay there.
He took out his sword and three times he tried to behead her. But this torturer did not succeed. He could not take the head from the body. It was forbidden by law to aim a fourth stroke at a victim, and so with drawn sword he hesitated. He dared not break the law.
So he left her in the bath half dead, her neck badly mangled, and went on his way. The Christian followers of Cecilia then flocked to her house. They brought sheets and towels with them to staunch the flow of her blood. She endured this torment for three days, during which time she spoke and preached to them all.
She bestowed her worldly goods upon them, and blessed them. She left them in the keeping of Pope Urban himself, to whom she spoke these words. ‘I have asked this of God Almighty. I have begged Him to give me three days so that I might commend the souls of these people to your care. And I ask you to turn my house into a church.’ Then she died.
Pope Urban removed the body under cover of darkness and buried it at night in the catacombs with the other saints. Then he consecrated her house, baptizing it as the Church of Saint Cecilia. It stands to this day, a holy place devoted to the honour of Christ and of the saint herself.
Heere is ended the Seconde Nonnes Tale
The Canon’s Yeoman’s Prologue
The Prologe of the Chanouns Yemannes Tale
We had ridden scarcely five miles after we had heard the tale of Saint Cecilia when we came to the hamlet of Blean, a few miles from Canterbury. Just as we entered the forest there we were overtaken by a man dressed in black, with a white surplice showing beneath his gown. His mount, a dapple grey, was so soaked in sweat that we could scarcely credit it. It was clear that he had been riding hard for some miles. The poor horse could hardly go any further; its collar was dripping wet, and its flanks were flecked with foam. His rider travelled light, however, with only a bag of two pouches fastened to his saddle. It was a warm spring, after all. I wondered who this man in black might be, until I noticed that his hood and cloak were sewn together. I knew at once that he was a canon of the Church. His hat hung down his back, from a cord, and he had put a burdock leaf under his hood to keep his head cool and to prevent the sweat from running down his face. He had galloped fast and furiously. It was extraordinary to see the sweat on him; he held as much liquid as a distillery.