hristian is to be a traitor."

"I am a Christian, but I am not a traitor."

"The law of the state forbids you to be a Christian under pain of death.
If you are a Christian you must die."

"I am a Christian," repeated Pollio firmly.

"Then you must die."

"Be it so."

"Boy, do you know what it is to suffer death?"

"I have seen much of death during the last few months. I have always
expected to lay down my life for my religion when my turn should come."

"Boy, you are young. We pity your tender age and inexperience. You have
been trained so peculiarly that you are scarcely responsible for your
present folly. For all this we are willing to make allowance. This
religion which infatuates you is foolishness. You believe that a poor
Jew, who was executed a few hundred years ago, is a God. Can anything be
more absurd than this! Our religion is the religion of the state. It has
enough in itself to satisfy the minds of young and old, ignorant and
learned. Leave your foolish superstition and turn to our wiser and older
religion."

"I cannot."

"You are the last of a noble family. The state recognizes the worth and
the nobility of the Servilii. Your ancestors lived in pomp and wealth
and power. You are a poor miserable boy and a prisoner. Be wise, Pollio.
Think of the glory of your forefathers and throw aside the miserable
obstacle that keeps you away from all their illustrious fame."

"I cannot."

"You have lived a miserable outcast. The poorest beggar in Rome fares
better than you. His food is obtained with less labor and less
humiliation. His shelter is in the light of day. Above all he is safe.
His life is his own. He need not live in hourly fear of justice. But you
have had to drag out a wretched existence in want and danger and
darkness. What has your boasted religion given you? What has this
deified Jew done for you? Nothing, worse than nothing. Turn, then, from
this deceiver. Wealth and comfort and friends and the honors of the
state and the favor of the emperor will all be yours."

"I cannot."

"Your father was a loyal subject and a brave soldier. He died in battle
for his country. He left you an infant, the heir of all his honors, and
the last prop of his house. Little did he think of the treacherous
influences that surrounded you to lead you astray. Your mother's mind,
weakened by sorrow, surrendered to the insidious wiles of false
teachers, and she again ignorantly wrought your ruin. Had your noble
f