because thou hast fallen away, because thou hast broken the vows of
thy maidenhood. The angel with peace written on her forehead, who
should have shed light and joy along her path, has been a Messalina,
delighting in the circus, in debauchery, and abuse of power. The days
of thy virginity cannot return; henceforward thou shalt be subject to
a master. Thy hour has come; the hand of death is upon thee. Thy heirs
believe that thou art rich; they will kill thee and find nothing. Yet
try at least to fling away this raiment no longer in fashion; be once
more as in the days of old!--Nay, thou art dead, and by thy own deed!'

"Is not this thy story?" so I ended. "Decrepit, toothless, shivering
crone, now forgotten, going thy ways without so much as a glance from
passers-by! Why art thou still alive? What doest thou in that beggar's
garb, uncomely and desired of none? Where are thy riches?--for what
were they spent? Where are thy treasures?--what great deeds hast thou
done?"

At this demand, the shriveled woman raised her bony form, flung off
her rags, and grew tall and radiant, smiling as she broke forth from
the dark chrysalid sheath. Then like a butterfly, this diaphanous
creature emerged, fair and youthful, clothed in white linen, an Indian
from creation issuing her palms. Her golden hair rippled over her
shoulders, her eyes glowed, a bright mist clung about her, a ring of
gold hovered above her head, she shook the flaming blade of a sword
towards the spaces of heaven.

"See and believe!" she cried.

And suddenly I saw, afar off, many thousands of cathedrals like the
one that I had just quitted; but these were covered with pictures and