What if I ordered your crucifixion? What? I would happily submit. Strike! Have you watched...

Clavius: What if I ordered your crucifixion? Bartholomew: What? I would happily submit. Strike! [drop to his knees with his arms outstretched] Clavius: Have you watched a man crucified? Bartholomew: No. Clavius: No? I don't remember seeing you there. Probably because you ran. Didn't you? Shall I tell you what you missed. [throws a large nail at his feet] Clavius: Feel it! Bartholomew: [picks it up] Clavius: Imagine having this driven through your arms. And then the same driven through your feet. Your feet. Can you imagine it? That's what you hang from. Nails rubbing on bone. You have to decide what's worse. The agony here [grabbing his arm] Clavius: or here? [kicks him in the ribs] Clavius: You choose which torture your own weight will inflict, constantly. And then you discover you can't breathe. And you realize you will never breathe easily again. And that every breath for the rest of your horrific life will be like sucking through wet cloth. Yeshua was lucky, he only hung like that a few hours, most take days - gasping for someone to kill them. And if he still felt anything at the end, he surely felt the spear that thrust up under his ribs to pierce his heart and lungs. I didn't look closely, but they must have had to break bones just getting him down. Sometimes they bury them with nails still in... Bartholomew: Enough!