at the place of Justice."

At this, Ser Niccola smiled and said, as if ravished with bliss:

"Joy! joy! the Delight of my soul will wait me at the holy place of
Justice!"

Catherine pondered and prayed, finally saying:

"Gracious Lord, Thou hast indeed wrought in him a great enlightenment,
seeing he calls holy the place of Justice."

Ser Niccola went on:

"Yes! I shall hie me thither, strong in heart and rejoicing. I weary, as
though I had a thousand years to wait, to be there, where I shall find
you once more."

"Farewell till the nuptials, the everlasting nuptials!" Catherine cried
again, as she left the prison.

The condemned man was served with a little bread and wine, and supplied
with a black cloak; then he was led forth along the precipitous streets,
to the sound of trumpets, between the city guards, beneath the banner of
the Republic. The ways swarmed with curious onlookers, and women lifted
their little ones in their arms, showing them the man doomed to die.

Meantime Niccola Tuldo was dreaming of Catherine, and his lips, that
had so long been bitter, opened softly as though to kiss the likeness of
the blessed maid.

After climbing for some while the rude brick-paved road, the procession
reached one of the heights dominating the city, and the condemned man
saw suddenly, with his eyes that were soon to see no more, the roofs,
domes, cloisters, and towers of Sienna, and further away the walls that
followed the slope of the hills. The sight reminded him of his native
town, the gay city of Perugia, surrounded with its gardens, where
springs of living water sing amid the fruits and flowers. He saw once
more in fancy the terrace that looks over the vale of Trasimene, whence
the eye drinks in the light of day with delight.

And the yearning for life tore his heart afresh, and he sighed:

"Oh! city of my fathers! Oh! house of my birth!"

But presently the thought of Catherine re-entered his soul, filling it
to the brim with gladness and sweet peace.

Finally they arrive in the Market Square, where each Saturday the
peasant girls of Camiano and Granayola display their citrons,
grapes, figs, and pomegranates, and hail the housewives with merry
appeals to buy, not unmixed with high-spiced jests. It was there the
scaffold was erected; and there Ser Niccola beheld Catherine
kneeling in prayer, her head resting on the block.

He climbed the steps with eager joy. At his coming, Catherine rose and
turned to