THE ADORER
VI.--Memorare
"Memorare, pia Virgo, non esse auditum
a saeculo quemquam ad tau currentem
praesidia, tua implorantem auxilia, tua
petentem suffragia, a te esse derelictum."
Saint Bernard.
"My lord, my lord, hush! listen!" exclaimed Veltro during the ascent
of the tower's staircase. "But do not betray me! I believe they are
interceding for you, for the affair was infamous, if I know aught about
it. To-morrow, my lord, to-morrow, you understand, I know that the
order will come to open the door for you, but hush!"
"What?" Guido, atremble, questioned, "I shall be free to-morrow?"
"Yes, my lord, but that is enough on this subject. Only, I believe that
your lordship owes a present to our holy madonna. She has rewarded your
devotion, she has interceded; it is she, I am sure it is she...."
"Thank you, Veltro, you are a good man. The first ducats that are
returned to me will be for the Novella, the second for you."
He hastened to the accustomed vision, but his limbs gave way, his hands
glanced over the rope-support, his heart beat like the eternal clock;
he required the effort of supreme will-power to overcome dizziness, to
pass the last steps, to fall on his knees near the balustrade.
There, full of anguish, made giddy by the sudden rolling that shook the
tower, like a ship amid storm, he felt himself fainting, then his eyes
dimmed and he wept.
Indifferent as a madonna, the Novella watched him weep.
Then, without transition, he felt in his soul the rage that dismissed
lovers feel.
"What have I done to you? Do you find that I did not love you with a
sufficiently insatiable love? Come, you know well that I belong to
you: do you recall the pact? Do you wish me to call you perjurer? Are
you a woman, after all? Woman, but madonna, and I have no insults
metaphysical enough to injure you. Yet, do not abuse your virginity,
you will force yourself to say disagreeable things. Well, we are going
to come to terms: take me as an orphan. Afterwards, we shall see."
Indifferent as a madonna, the Novella still watched him.
"Ah!" Guido thought, "she is inflexible. Her heart is an eternal
decree. I rail at her who was before Time, how stupid! And I sink into
blasphemous sarcasms which her son one day will charge me with. Passion
leads me into error, but passion above all else!"
"Novella! adored madonna, listen to me. There have been times when
you were more clement. I implore you, speak to me, give me a smile.
No? Nothing? Ah! I am deserted! Think--I have but you. The white town
straggling under your divine feet, the blue sea, your immortally dying
sister, the firmament less pure than your inviolate soul, the roses
which are the perfume of your most chaste thought, all that is charming
in nature, I love as your emanation, as a perpetual Month of Mary. Ah!
I shall recite to you the rosary of my griefs, and in the end I shall
crucify myself to please you! You should at least be grateful for my
reserve: was I not proper when you came to see me? Yet, you loved me
that day, and what if I had really insisted, O permanent Virgin?...
"How beautiful you are! Ah! wonder-working beauty, sacred beauty! Ah!
it is not in vain that the Infinite has dwelt in your bosom: your smile
is impregnated with it forever. But you no longer wish to smile....
"Comfort me, through pity, since it is written in your anthems. Are
you now going to encourage scepticism? If you truly are the consoler
of afflicted souls, prove it, for I am full of affliction. Yes, I
feel that it is a wretched reasoning: you do what you wish and your
auxilliary grace has devolved only on those of good will. I reason too
much. It is not thus that one touches the heart of a woman, O woman of
women, am I not right?
"Yet I would like, before dying, once again to recall this to you:
'Recollect that you have never been implored in vain!' If you have
no condescension for my love, have some for my madness. Do you not
perceive that I ramble incoherently, and to what point. What would you,
it is thus when one loves!
"So, we are going to separate....
"Ah! virginal purples! star-like dawns! Ah! early mornings and late
tendernesses! Illusive universe, begone, shameful Satan repulsing my
caresses! She has smiled! Again, again! She opens her arms to me! Ah!
God! is it possible? Yes, I knew it. Ah! of words, nothing is closed to
verbal incantations. On what does happiness depend?
"She opens her arms to me, she loves me. Here I am, here! How I am
going to adore you, how I am going to recite lovely litanies to you,
and all the essential orisons. Nothing separated me from you but your
will, and your will accepts me, finally cleansed of human defilement
by the baptism of blood. Joy more indefinable than the immaculate
conception, the virgin of virgins opens to the sinner the ivory portals
of pure love...."
Dreaming of such things, Guido leaped over the balustrade,
precipitantly towards the madonna who awaited him, laughing and with
outstretched arms.--_Ave, Rosa speciosa!_