The shadow of Monk Gregory was seen no more in Cologne. He entered the
Calendar, and ranks next St. Anthony. For three successive centuries the
towns of Rhineland boasted his visits in the flesh, and the conqueror of
Darkness caused dire Rhenish feuds.
The Tailed Infernal repeated his famous Back-blow on Farina. The youth
awoke one morning and beheld warehouses the exact pattern of his own,
displaying flasks shaped even as his own, and a Farina to right and left
of him. In a week, they were doubled. A month quadrupled them. They
increased.
'Fame and Fortune,' mused Farina, 'come from man and the world: Love is
from heaven. We may be worthy, and lose the first. We lose not love
unless unworthy. Would ye know the true Farina? Look for him who walks
under the seal of bliss; whose darling is for ever his young sweet bride,
leading him from snares, priming his soul with celestial freshness.
There is no hypocrisy can ape that aspect. Least of all, the creatures
of the Damned! By this I may be known.'
Seven years after, when the Goshawk came into Cologne to see old friends,
and drink some of Gottlieb's oldest Rudesheimer, he was waylaid by false
Farinas; and only discovered the true one at last, by chance, in the
music-gardens near the Rhine, where Farina sat, having on one hand
Margarita, and at his feet three boys and one girl, over whom both bent
lovingly, like the parent vine fondling its grape bunches in summer
light.