words of comfort
which enabled them to bear up with firmness.

The executioners soon pulled off our Lord's cloak, the belt to which
the ropes were fastened, and his own belt, when they found it was
impossible to drag the woollen garment which his Mother had woven for
him over his head, on account of the crown of thorns; they tore off
this most painful crown, thus reopening every wound, and seizing the
garment, tore it mercilessly over his bleeding and wounded head. Our
dear Lord and Saviour then stood before his cruel enemies, stripped of
all save the short scapular which was on his shoulders, and the linen
which girded his loins. His scapular was of wool; the wool had stuck to
the wounds, and indescribable was the agony of pain he suffered when
they pulled it roughly off. He shook like the aspen as he stood before
them, for he was so weakened from suffering and loss of blood that he
could not support himself for more than a few moments; he was covered
with open wounds, and his shoulders and back were torn to the bone by
the dreadful scourging he had endured. He was about to fall when the
executioners, fearing that he might die, and thus deprive them of the
barbarous pleasure of crucifying him, led him to a large stone and
placed him roughly down upon it, but no sooner was he seated than they
aggravated his sufferings by putting the crown of thorns again upon his
head. They then offered him some vinegar and gall, from which, however,
he turned away in silence. The executioners did not allow him to rest
long, but bade him rise and place himself on the cross that they might
nail him to it. Then seizing his right arm they dragged it to the hole
prepared for the nail, and having tied it tightly down with a cord, one
of them knelt upon his sacred chest, a second held his hand flat, and a
third taking a long thick nail, pressed it on the open palm of that
adorable hand, which had ever been open to bestow blessings and favours
on the ungrateful Jews, and with a great iron hammer drove it through
the flesh, and far into the wood of the cross. Our Lord uttered one
deep but suppressed groan, and his blood gushed forth and sprinkled the
arms of the archers. I counted the blows of the hammer, but my extreme
grief made me forget their number. The nails were very large, the heads
about the size of a crown piece, and the thickness that of a man's thumb,
while the points came through at the back of the cross. The Blessed
Virgin stood m