refore I say to you, Fra Giovanni, seeing you have chosen
peradventure to take Truth for your Lady and darling, it behoves you
greatly to know concerning her all that may be known. Well then, know
that she is _white_. And from her appearance, which I will describe you,
you shall gather her nature, which will be very useful to you in making
up to her and kissing her fair body with all sorts of pretty caresses,
after the fashion of a lover fondling his mistress. Therefore take it as
proven, brother mine, that she is _white_."

After hearkening to these words, the holy man Giovanni answered:

"Subtle Sir, the meaning of your discourse is not so hard to guess as
you would seem to fear. And my wit, albeit naturally thick and dull, was
instantly transfixed by the fine point of your allegory. You say that
Truth is white to manifest the perfect purity that is in her, and show
clearly she is a lady of immaculate virtue. And truly I picture her to
myself such as you describe, overpassing in whiteness the lilies of the
garden and the snow that in winter clothes the summits of Monte
Alverno."

But the visitor shook his head and said:

"Nay! Fra Giovanni, that is not the meaning of my words, and you have in
no wise broken the bone to extract the marrow. I instructed you that
Truth is white, _not_ that she is pure; and it shows little discernment
to think that she is pure."

Grieved at what he now heard, the holy man Giovanni replied:

"Even as the Moon, when the Earth hides the Sun's light from her, is
darkened by the thick shadow of this World, where was wrought the crime
of our mother Eve, so, most Subtle Sir, you have obscured a plain
saying under baffling phrases. Thus we have you astray in the dark; for
indeed Truth is pure, coming from God, the fountain of all purity."

But the Opponent retorted:

"Fra Giovanni, your logic is at fault, or you would know that purity is
an inconceivable quality. This is what the shepherds of Arcady did, so
they say, who named pure gods the gods they knew not the nature of."

Then the good Fra Giovanni sighed and said:

"Sir! your words are dark and wrapped in sadness. At times in my sleep
angels have visited me. Their words I could not comprehend; but the
mystery of _their_ thought was full of joy."

Hereupon the subtle visitor resumed:

"Come, Fra Giovanni, let us argue it out both of us according to the
rules of syllogism."

But the holy man answered:

"Nay! I cannot argue wit