Listen to what they say:
that hope remains even in death. When one is really humble, love alone
remains and triumphs. And at last, look! The air itself is filled with
the whisperings of spirits. See, here are my invisible companions, the
virgins, who are ever near me and aid me. Listen, listen!"
Smiling, she had lifted up her hand with an air of the deepest
attention, and her whole being was in ecstasy from the scattered
breathings she heard. They were the virgins of the "Golden Legend"
that her imagination called forth, as in her early childhood, and whose
mystic flight came from the old book with its quaint pictures, that was
placed on the little table. Agnes was first, clothed with her beautiful
hair, having on her finger the ring of betrothal to the Priest Paulin.
Then all the others came in turn. Barbara with her tower; Genevieve
with her sheep; Cecilia with her viol; Agatha with her wounded breast;
Elizabeth begging on the highways, and Catherine triumphing over the
learned doctors. She did not forget the miracle that made Lucy so heavy
that a thousand men and five yoke of oxen could not carry her away: nor
the Governor who became blind as he tried to embrace Anastasia. Then
others who seemed flying through the quiet night, still bearing marks of
the wounds inflicted upon them by their cruel martyrdom, and from which
rivers of milk were flowing instead of blood.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337