De sacrarum stationum veteri instituto a Xisto Quinto pont. max. revocato oratio habita in templo S. Sabinae in die Cinerum

these martyrs were struck with clubs; crushed with leaden weights; tortured with shards of pottery; pierced with iron drops; flayed with hooks; branded with glowing plates; rolled on coals; smeared with boiling fat; placed on a gridiron with fire beneath; transfixed by arrows; suspended, torn apart, stretched, butchered, broken, drowned, dissected, and finally finished off; and when the day failed, they were burned by the use of nocturnal light. Moreover, here are kept the bones, flesh, nerves, and whole bodies of these same martyrs, almost smoking and still warm with blood, sacred monuments, and venerable relics. And indeed, what is more pleasant or sweeter than such variety and piety? Oh, the honest, useful, and pleasure-filled custom of the Stationes Stations. Oh, a custom to be most holily retained always, in all life, and at all times. Although I frankly admit that if any time of the year is especially suited to this practice, it is the Lenten season. For whether you understand the term Stationes Stations as the place where ships are accustomed to retreat into safety from the deep, or you understand a station where soldiers can safely stand for a time, at what time, I ask, is it more fitting to flee to the Stationes Stations than when either more turbulent storms make navigation more hostile, or most powerful and subtle enemies rage with more unjust power or lie in wait with sharper cunning? But now, most of all, our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against princes and powers, against the rulers of the world of these darknesses. Now the most cruel demons of our peace and our salvation, the showers, clouds, storms, whirlwinds, and tempests, are attempting everything and leaving no stone unturned to agitate our sea and disturb our tranquility. Now, fearing this one thing—that they might be weakened by our recovery, that they might be wounded by the healing of our wounds, that our remedies might be their plagues, that they might collapse at our rising and be tormented by our justification—they direct all the force of their malice to this: that from where we ought to obtain propitiation, from there