In this scene, Sabina's feet leave the ground for the last time. Here's Balbus's narration of the scene:
Hercules and Ajax shifted their grips and bent their legs for the final lift, set the back of the patibulum against the face of the stipes, and made sure that the mortise’s opening was centered. This little slave girl felt the movement of them getting ready and let out a moan of terror. I had to grin at that.
She would be much lighter than the swinging dicks they usually crucified, but they still had to be careful not to let the patibulum twist in their grasp. That was always a real danger of that with all of the victim’s weight hanging from nails on the front of the beam and if it did, it could easily break her wrists. They would slide the patibulum up the front of the stipes rather than lifting it freely, at least until they had to lift it above the top. The crowd was quiet once again, anticipating what was coming.
Julia Lepida narrates the scene from her perspective:
She started screaming before her feet left the ground.
Every eye in the crowd was on her, anticipating. The Nubians adjusted their grip on the beam, positioning themselves to lift it above the top of the post. One of them nodded to the other, and with hardly any effort at all, they began raising the timber.
She was looking at me, begging for mercy yet again, when the beam started to move. Her pleading look changed to an expression of panic, then a grimace of agony, groaning through gritted teeth. They could have just pushed the beam up and dropped it into place; they were certainly practiced enough at it. But instead, they took their time doing it, making her endure the horror slowly, letting the onlookers savor the sight.
As they raised the timber higher, the nails in her wrists pulled harder, taking more of her weight. She raised herself up on her tiptoes, trying to support herself for a few more heartbeats before having to suffer the agony of hanging by those nails. She looked down at her feet, at the ground beneath that she would never touch again. I heard titters of laughter from some in the crowd, who watched her avidly, drinking in the sight.
The muscles in her arms and chest stretched and stood out, straining underneath a sheen of sweat. Her stomach sucked in, became concave underneath her ribs, pulsating with each panting breath. She threw her head back and emptied her lungs in a long, agonized scream.
She stretched the toes of one foot down, trying to keep them on the ground, then lifted one foot and groped for the face of the rough timber behind her, just beneath her buttocks, trying to find some support there. Her body twisted as the foot slipped, and then her other foot was flailing as it left the ground for the last time.
