Versus In Natali Machabeorum Martyrium

Verses on the Feast of the Maccabean Martyrs There was once a king, Antiochus, exceedingly wealthy ruler of Syria, in whose kingdom a mother and her seven sons lived, born, as report has it, from a holy race; whom the care of their noble lineage bade them remember, and to serve the law that was given: for thus, of their own will, from a better people, they held fast to God’s own ordinances. The king, eager to change their faith, to change the fear of the righteous, wished to mingle them with a wicked populace. He promises rewards to the mother, promises her gold, and whatever he could gather from the whole kingdom, if only she would change her ways and former sentiments, and compel her sons to fashion for themselves other habits. She refuses, and presses down a silent grief in her heart. After he could not corrupt her with any words, he first tried to overcome her with savage tortures. She endured them, yet groaning, and did not fear the king’s harsh blows. When he saw himself defeated: “Alas! what shall I do?” he said. “A woman conquers a king! Yet you will not escape: there is more that you will bitterly suffer. I will rage against your sons, even though you are shameless: by this means surely I will heal my own pain.” She raised her hands, and looked up at the high heaven, uttered groans, and spoke these words: “Though you have treasures and kingdoms, tyrant, we are not taken by the gifts of kings, nor will gifts snatch the promises of God from the saints. That hope is more certain which promises us life in the long time to come. This I follow, this I have learned. For it is easy to touch slippery things, to take up divine things, and to lose the well-worn path.

But though you threaten flames after savage beatings, you can change nothing of what we began in our earliest years. By the virtue given to me by the law, it is certain that I shall conquer. What now, cruel one, do you command? What harsh threats do you make against my children? You will be able to disturb a mother only by this grief. For I have God as my hope, I have care for my own, through which I trust that you can conquer no one. O Heaven, favor us, for we ask what is just. King Antiochus rages, his heart troubled with tumult. He could not bear it, and his fierce face bears witness, and he marvels long that a woman can do so much. "Do your duty, soldier," he says; "and you, servant, obey the king. You servants, obey me, give fitting torments to the raging woman; the raging woman compels me to be savage. What is more, a woman overcomes her own king's commands. But she has not spoken with impunity. I will destroy limb by limb the seven treacherous sons she keeps within her. Let the first of them, who is considered the first, perish first; thus I will destroy all in order. Let the cruel bonds be placed on them to burn in the flames, so that she may see her own, so that she may see her harsh sons. This punishment awaits: the ministers must be swift." Meanwhile, the eloquent mother, with hair now loose, stood bare, and like one exhorting, with breast exposed, she opens the nourishment of her sons in a known confession; and when she saw her son at the fire, advancing with steady step and brave, she said: "You, firstborn, you first look back at your mother. You are mine; now, my son, remember us.

You bore me first; now you invite your parent. Your own character, and the king, you silence with silence. You will be able to endure long, if you conquer the times of faithlessness, lest the king’s violence overcome the saints. Heed your mother’s counsel, and you will not fear losses; be stronger, and more powerful than rock itself. Enter as a youth; patiently conquer the sweet ones. He now turns his face to his mother, now lifts it to the heights; and while he is silent and silently asks whom he ought to ask, and fears, he mounts the swift fires placed beneath the hurdles. The body flows away empty; the mother, heavy, herself rebounds, and said: I have conquered; I shall conquer if I pray more often; may the unknown virtue of my sons endure for the king, but now known to God, who knows the hearts of the people. She had finished the pain of her first birth, but with fear remaining for many, the mother anxious; yet she dissembles, lest joys touch the king. King Antiochus is stunned. He does not believe that those following can overcome such a kind of punishment with a similar feeling. He orders what was begun to be completed. The mother remained unafraid; but when she saw her son standing pale, she, turning these things over within herself, is partly relieved. Behold, a second age of my childbearing is brought forth. How like your brother in form, if you are hard in heart, and follow the footsteps of our first birth! You can be mine; you can find the salvation which your brother already has, having followed your mother’s precepts.

Put aside your fears, and despise the threats of the raging king, and the kingdoms which fleeting times grant in haste. After this, that king will not be able to harm you; but after this, son, you will be able to harm the king. Behold, you are forced to ascend the light flames, but virtue is needed; put aside your fainting fear. Be mindful of our lineage, if any feeling clings to you. This man who holds the scepter, who rages in this kingdom, thinks time is empty; he will lack both kingdom and life, and, condemned as guilty, he will burn in eternal fires. You will follow, accompanied by the throng of the pious. Look, son, at my face, and look up to heaven, and to God the Author, through whom a better life is prepared for you; tread in the footsteps of your brother. Do not hear what that man orders, but what God commands. As he was admonished, he stood to see his mother and heaven, and began to despise the king with a cheerful face, and, laughing, rushed into the burning fires, and, having collapsed and lying there, he rested, his soul prevailing. When the mother saw this, she spoke with a stern mouth: “I am happy in part; now, savage tyrant, you cannot conquer all my sons by slaughtering them. A heavier punishment soon awaits you, cruel and unjust one, which you will suffer shortly; for God sees all these things.” Then the two remained secure, having despised the king. The mother’s hope was now better; now the third one presses on. Behold, the place of punishment—if it is punishment to conquer the king. And to serve God is praise, not the punishment of a raging man. The third youth is dragged forth by the gnashing tyrant, who was not yet sated.

Fury and wrath raged equally within, because she had seen the brave hearts of the brothers fearlessly overcome the king’s madness. A youth stood before her feet, in the flower of his years, outstanding in form, worthy to hold kingdoms, more worthy than Antiochus, following better kingdoms, truly, as God called him; to him his mother speaks thus: “Take, my son, the words of your parent, secure in them; take them, lest sluggishness cause you to lose the honor of virtue. Your brothers already remain in the seat of piety, and in a better place than fleeting kingdoms; if you touch their own feelings in your heart, you will be said to have accomplished the deed of a king among peoples, just as fame has already sent your brothers into the heights. Approach them, I pray; these are the most fitting gifts: to have scorned impiety, and to have abandoned the laws of the untamed king, whom no pleasure awaits after this.” But the youth, in silence, sent forth murmuring voices, like one praying, stretched his palms upward, and, with knee bent, hung on his mother’s words, though her gaze, not her body, pressed him. Once admonished, he mounted the pyre, and in the fire, intrepid and with sure faith, placed his limbs. The flames are quenched, the warm ash remains, and the unharmed earth received his body; his holy soul also departed inviolate to the heavens. But the mother, doubting whether to take up groans or joys, hesitates, and speaks thus in a plaintive tone: “What now, cruel one, do you prepare? Shall we all obey your commands?

But the number of my offspring—let no guardian steal any away—and even if you yourself wish it, I will not allow, O tyrant, that not all of them perish in this contest. This is your time, though you may change it, a dreadful punishment, and a harsh sentence for my condemned children. If you think there are heavier penalties, if there are heavier ones, threaten them; and whatever you see in my face, you will be covered with horror. We rejoice equally, however often you rage against them. But the king, driven by mad anger, burns the more, and thinks he is being tested, lest the rest of the brothers bear their punishments like the others, and he senses that the mother seeks this. He persists in destruction, and soon wished to condemn a fourth son to punishment; for the weary ministers could bear neither the king’s furies nor the king himself. O shame! The son blushed to show his face to his mother, and began to confound her stunned mind. After she saw him standing with downcast gaze, she approached him with such words, warning the fearful one: “You are the fourth birth from a triple one, to me the fourth child as well. What words now can I say to you, my son? Only this: that the hardened power of heaven be with you, and also virtue; and we owe the origin of this holy lineage to that king, whatever we deny. He gave us Abraham with his holy seed, through whom all nobility, through whom every race, is proven.

What remains is in the Lord; the holy man to whom Isaac is born, at a time when old age could of its own accord hope for no child yet born, because Sarah remained barren; and when she gave birth, and the propagation of the race began, unexpectedly for you, Sarah, there remain grandchildren, Esau and Jacob, drawn from their native origin, whom we know Rebecca bore as twins. From here we are, from here we originate: this lineage, my son, is to be sought by you: open the way for yourself, approach the earlier parent. Whose offspring, scattered throughout the whole world, suffers envy: because it alone worships the mighty Lord with its mind, and does not mingle with the wicked crowd. Why do you keep your face sad, why do you keep your eyes fixed on the ground? Rather, look to the sky and the Parent of the sky, do not doubt: your mother shows you what is favorable. Whatever is within, bear it patiently, and bravely accompany my throng, my son, and urge the following number. Thus the beloved mother, mixing grief and joy, had finished her illustrious admonitions, when he himself raises the orbs of his eyes, and begins to gaze intently at his mother, bearing nothing sad now; with his breath and face he confesses that he feared nothing except the sad wounds of his mother divided among her offspring: thus, slipping from the hands of those holding him, he hastens with a run into the flames. Shall I speak of the marvel? The flame did not touch his face; as a lifeless body, he overcame the flame and the fires, with his mouth open, yet silent, where the spirit would go, whence it had been received, it fled together with the blood.

The parent rejoiced in this very thing, that he who had stood with a sad countenance in the gloomy world, soon trusting with his whole heart, obeyed the warnings and spurned the king's angers. Yet it began thus, when the king hesitated over those who surpassed him, and the pious crowd gave forth groans, the ministers, cursing the king, seek him out with silent speech. "Draw it out, why do you hesitate? You must now spare no one, nor can you, as you wish, break the decree. I appeal to the King, who rules the whole world, to whom the sea, to whom the sky, to whom the stars of the sky are subject. Unless you bring it forth, it is fear: you now press on too sluggishly, you now feel what kingdoms seek, what glory remains for us from both sides, if you are unwilling to spare. For those whom you have ordered to depart from your kingdom, whether with accompanying vice they overcame your fury, they are indeed yours, and they remain joyful in the seat of the pious. Perhaps you believe this is death, raging tyrant? It is a longer life, and more powerful than that kingdom which you rule, at the extreme part of which you now linger. Yet you are mortal, nor will you hold kingdoms forever. But go on with your command, and do not divide our children: these also, deadly one, who surpass the younger in age, give these also to the flames, and use the rights of your kingdom. These, even despised, will conquer your kingdom, proud one." Antiochus conceives furies, and the savage tyrant seethes, and rolls groans within his breast.

His color matched his mind, and raising his eyes, heavy with weariness, he spoke these words: "This freedom of yours and this harsh power of your tongue, and this stiff-necked severity you carry with such swelling pride—they will feel what the lashes of an angry king can do, if you are not yet sated with evils and try to feign joy, turning your grief into gladness. I will not change your death: rejoice, be glad, triumph—provided you conquer in such a way that you are the last of your line." Thus the mother, in her frenzy, rejoices in the death of her sons. "These too I give to the flames; no power can change this; my decrees stand. Rejoice, you who survive, bereft of your children, and let my commands not be delayed. Let the order run its course: bring forth the sons, lest the fires burn in vain. Whether the king can appear uncertain—certainly I have no fear, woman. You, the foremost of your race, are brought forth, a boy to be marveled at in face and form, in whose breast firm virtue remains; with such qualities you could have conquered even the king." To him the mother spoke with a calm voice: "If it were permitted, my son, to embrace you in a mother's arms, I confess I would have given you alone, after the wounds, my son. But harsh law and the sad power of the king forbid it. Let embraces be denied, as long as we have free speech and it is allowed to remember God, and to hold the law not given by a king, but which God, the arbiter of the world and ruler of the universe, handed down, and which Moses sought and received, and gave to the people, whose greatest glory is to know God, to whom we owe the merit of our honor.

Do not hesitate to obey the commands of a parent. Let there be vigor and virtue, and deep within your whole heart let your mind remain now full of God; let your age be stronger than it was to hope to overcome the king who commands. How great is virtue, how great is the confidence of the brave! But now do not hesitate to conquer the midst of the flames. You will be the victor, believe me, boy, and you will return victorious. Bones and strong sinews will mingle with the bodies, and the souls that have been preserved will again return to new flesh. But lest perhaps the swift fire terrify you, take up the spirit of your brothers, and gaze upon the eternal Godhead. He does what is ordered, and silently he bears witness to God and prays with whatever murmur he could; his age does not hinder the boy, he did not fear the exposed gridiron, and he obeyed his willing mother, and more quickly than words he rushed upon the fires. The flames gave way, all pain gave way, and body and fire were one; the body had overcome the fire, but the spirit had first overcome the gentle breezes. The mother silently rejoices in her grief, and with suppressed sorrow she turns her sadness and mourning into joys. Meanwhile she trembles, and turns over in her heart cares not about the past, but about the youthful years that remain; lest perhaps they deny, lest perhaps they conceive fear in their minds, and prefer to approach the king. And the younger one is, the greater the fear; anxiously she leads, alas! her cares; even hope and fear struggle together, and run through the vitals of the pious mother. Yet hope is the better.

He saw the child go forth, and from afar, exulting, "I see what hope can bring me in this one; he must recognize our faces, and obey the number of his brothers. Perhaps this one alone will touch the childish hearts, and he will bear it unworthily that we are thus offered up like a sacrifice. I will speak to him, and try to say a few words, that he may remember his lineage rather than this present time. If the nobility of your race touches you, if your origin moves you, look, my son, at your own, and look also at us, my son: do not count your years, boy; begin with a strong heart to bear God; the ages will hand this down to ages. What you perhaps seek, give now examples to future times; what you love in the world, you are nothing more than this. Consider what you should flee, and how better things are to be sought. Let not the deceit of the foolish king trouble you. Thus this one, now growing, conquered the flames by a contrary spirit; thus, when called, the earth, opened wide, received the body it had given, and the holy, inviolate soul departed. Though weary, a mother, victorious through all her wounds, fell upon her face, and with hands upturned, she uttered these words and spoke thus: 'You who rule the command of heaven, earth, and sea, you who give the stars to the sky, animals to the lands, fish to the seas, the breezes of the seasons to the birds, to you, great one, the trust of my mind rises; you who divided the immense chaos, mixed with blind darkness, into parts, and gave both night and day, and the moon and the sun, which you always command at varying times to provide light through the world by night and day.'

After these things you give a man, from whose seed the world of the five is completed, the mortal race, to whom a tongue grows loquacious, discordant among peoples, yet the taste is the same for all. But why should I delay with a long account of what changes the merit of men and their speech? It is certain to persist in what has been begun. We confess that the sea was divided by your staff, while the people crossed the dry floor of the sea, fleeing the death of Egypt and King Pharaoh, who ordered the number of saints to serve him, whom your majesty, with Moses as leader, transferred to all, and, preserved by your power, you separated them safe. The earth gave fruits, which it bore at your command, and thirst sought rest in hidden waters. There was no moisture; all, seeking with a shout, demanded that Moses give water to the thirsty; to whom he spoke in a brief speech: "Believe that God can do whatever you ask of him, who is able with this staff to pour forth a stream from rock, so that springs may come, denied to the whole region." And at the same time he struck, swifter than any word, the rock sent forth springs with first sweetness. I confess, although the whole world is indebted to you, whatever peoples can do, you alone can do all, and what peoples do not grasp, you alone grasp all.

You burden and relieve the mortal race with cares, I beseech you, astonished yet with a firm mind, fearing, lest my lowliest infant be absent from the number of the brothers, and ignorant of himself, whom I already see held far off, a crowd surrounding him with a frequent throng. His age alone moves me to tears: for one remains, for whom I have the greatest concern, lest the tender child be ignorant of what race he was created. If I could take him aside alone, I would coax him, and teach him his father’s race and his fatherland: but whatever consolations I can, I will send. Little boy, dearer to me than your tender years, dearer than a kingdom, dearer than life itself, you can utterly cast down the victorious mother, you are the end of births and the end of future evils; if care for me touches you, if you retain your mother’s honor with a pious mind, although you are an infant, all the more with eager ear attend to a parent’s words. First learn, boy, what you will be after this, if you are patient; what you will be to me, dear one, deeds teach. You will remain in the portion of the holy brothers, and you will be secure in rest, while the cruel ages complete their course; after a long time, you will seek this light again, and you will see eternal kingdoms, unstained by evils, nowhere hostile to the saints: nor will there be any place for death, nor will wars be waged on swift horses, but eternal peace will remain.

Trust your mother, who desires you to be safe. Alas! Why do you repel my words with a sad face? Why do you flee? Have pity on me, have pity on yourself. If it were permitted, I would go first, but I am forbidden, behold; yet I will go, then when I see you, victor over the tyrant, O son of the Maccabees. What do you bid me to hope? Do my words delay you? Do you alone still recall me, my son, to sorrow? Do you assent, or do you condemn me and your brothers and your race? Lest you perhaps wish that, I beg you, and I entreat you, listen. I, your mother, nourished you with these little breasts, my son, and I pour forth tears on your account, O son of the Nile. Do not wish to remain; you will remain alone and bereft. No brother now remains for you: who will give you the consolations of life? Alas! You alone attempt to confound your mother and your race and your fatherland! If you reject such words, how much better you will preserve your life for eternity, if you do before God whatever your predecessors did. Boldly put aside fear, put aside dread: conceive God in your mind; He will give you manly strength. While the mother acts thus, the boy looks to the precepts of his parent, and when he sees himself left alone and abandoned, he raised his wound and his upturned palms to heaven, and thus with a powerful voice he adores the eternal God, whom he was beseeching with equal feeling and will, that he might conquer the king, that he might conquer the savage fires. And thus, not sluggish nor for his boyish years, he leaps intrepidly, having slipped into the midst of the fires, he overcomes them, and the victor does not return into the deep; his spirit seeks the secret places of his earlier brothers.

While the boy was doing these things, joys released the mother. And now, as she was worn out by evils, her voice now denied, she breathed her last, exulting, and, having collapsed into the hands of her own, she fell lifeless, and her loosened limbs were stilled. Thus she herself, like her sons, was received into the company of the saints.