The man from Cyrene pushed and shoved his way through the crowd that was lining the street. The cheering and shouting voices could be heard down almost every side street. He heard a man yelling that the guards were going to execute a Nazarene guilty of insurrection. Finding his way to the edge of the stone street he could clearly see the figure of a man. As the Cyrene stood on the side of the road the Roman guards came close to him. Almost instantly his hand brushed the side of his robe. His small knife was at his side. His thought was the thought of a fool, sacrifice his life for the life of only one soldier. No, he would wait until the right time.
The man being pushed along the road looked like a person drenched in misery and pain. As he came close to the Cyrene he fell on the road. As fast as a man can blink his eye the whip was flying and determined to tear more flesh from the condemned man. The soldier with the whip was laughing as he yelled, "Get up and walk O great king". And with his sneer and laugh the whip flew through the air the second time. The poor wretch stumbled to his feet, his knees were red and scratched from the road, blood ran down the backs of his legs, seeping from the flesh on his back that was hanging in ribbons. After one or two staggering attempts at walking the poor soul was down on the road again. And again the whip flew and as it snapped across the condemned man he gasped. As he did he turned his head and looked into the eyes of the Cyrene.
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