abbey of St. Denis, and she in the convent of Argenteuil, of which
I have already spoken. She, I remember well, when her fond friends
sought vainly to deter her from submitting her fresh youth to the
heavy and almost intolerable yoke of monastic life, sobbing and
weeping replied in the words of Cornelia:

"... O husband most noble,
Who ne'er shouldst have shared my couch! Has fortune such power
To smite so lofty a head? Why then was I wedded
Only to bring thee to woe? Receive now my sorrow,
The price I so gladly pay."
(Lucan, "Pharsalia," viii, 94.)

With these words on her lips did she go forthwith to the altar, and
lifted therefrom the veil, which had been blessed by the bishop,
and before them all she took the vows of the religious life. For my
part, scarcely had I recovered from my wound when clerics sought me
in great numbers, endlessly beseeching both my abbot and me myself
that now, since I was done with learning for the sake of gain or
renown, I should turn to it for the sole love of God. They bade me
care diligently for the talent which God had committed to my
keeping (Matthew, xxv, 15), since surely He would demand it back
from me with interest. It was their plea that, inasmuch as of old I
had laboured chiefly in behalf of the rich, I should now devote
myself to the teaching of the poor. Therein above all should I
perceive how it was the hand of God that had touched me, when I
should devote my life to the study of letters in freedom from the
snares of the flesh and withdrawn from the tumultuous life of this
world. Thus, in truth, should I become a philosopher less of this
world than of God.