d of it." And then
follow the charming German stanzas:

Thou to me and I to thee,
Knit for all eternity.
In my heart art thou imprisoned,
And I threw away the key.
Nevermore canst thou be free.

In the third letter she drops the formal Latin and addresses him in
intimate, simple German. But the man's replies are clumsy and strange,
and plainly evidence his uncertainty of himself: "You have put a human
head on a horse's neck, and the beautiful female form ends in an ugly
fish's tail." It looks as if a parting were inevitable.

But the most touching testimony from the Middle Ages is the famous love
story of Abelard and Heloise. We probably possess no older document of
the passionate devotion of a woman, differing in nothing from the
sentiment of the present age, than the letters of Heloise. Abelard
persuaded her to take the veil and repent in a convent the sin of
voluptuousness--but she knows nothing of God--her whole soul is wrapped
up in her lover: "I expect no reward from God, for what I did was not
done for love of Him.... I wanted nothing from you but yourself; I
desired only you, not that which belonged to you; I did not expect
marriage or gifts; I did not seek to gratify my desires and do my will,
but yours, and well you know that I am speaking the truth! The name of
wife may seem sacred and honourable to you, but I prefer to be called
your mistress or even your harlot. The more I degraded myself for your
sake, the more I hoped to find grace in your eyes.... I renounced all
the pleasures of the world to live only for you; I kept nothing for
myself but the desire to belong entirely to you." Abelard's replies are
pious sermons and theological treatises; he thinks of the love of the
past only as _the cursed desires of the flesh_, the snare in which the
devil had caught them, and urges Heloise to thank God that henceforth
they are safe. "My love which entangled both of us in sin," he says in
one of his letters, "deserves not the name of love, for it was naught
but carnal lust. I sought in you the gratification of my sinful
desires," etc. He blessed the savage crime committed on him because it
saved him for ever from the sin of voluptuousness. What Heloise loved
and treasured as her sweetest memory, was to him hell and devil's work.
He wrote to her almost as if in mockery: "What splendid interest does
the talent of your wisdom bear to the Lord day after day! How many
spiritual daughters you