AT VESPERS

**At** Lord, I have cried**, Prosomia.**

Glory. Both now.

**Theotokion.**

Tone 4. As noble among Martyrs.

Or Cross-Theotokion.

As men who soldiered well, all-praised Martyrs, for the King of Powers, you willingly gave yourselves up to scourgings and violent death, bringing with you choirs of fellow-martyrs; with whom, O blessed ones, you found the blessed end and bound your brows with crowns of victory as you intercede on our behalf.

Smitten unyieldingly and consumed by fire, nailed to boards from every side and driven on roads, shut up in prison and roasted on coals like a pure victim, to him who was sacrificed for us you were offered as a sweet-smelling oblation on the altar on high, glorious Martyrs.

Deprived of hands and feet, with heads cut off, racked and subjected to all other torments, you did not deny Christ or sacrifice to wooden idols, but bidding farewell to this temporary life you passed over, all-honoured Champions, to divine and heavenly glory.

I call you blessed, O All-pure, who snatched mortals from the deep of evil and despair; I confess you, Bride of God, the ever-blessed, and I glorify, holy Virgin, your ineffable child-bearing, because you bore the Saviour of the world and freed humanity from the ancestral curse.

As the Virgin your Mother saw you hanged upon a cross, O Lord, she was dismayed and gazing on you said: How have they repaid you, Master, those who enjoyed your many gifts? But, I beg, do not leave me alone in the world; but hasten, rise again, raising the forefathers with you.