aise God in all the
works of men, and blessed the good Virgil for having prophesied the
birth of the Saviour, when the bard of Mantua declares to the Nations:
_Jam redit et Virgo._[1]

[Footnote 1: Now the Virgin too returns.]

On the window-sill a tall lily stood in a vase of coarse earthenware,
for Fra Mino loved to trace the name of the Blessed Virgin inscribed in
the gold dust of the flower's calyx. The window itself, which opened
very high up in the wall, was small, but the sky could be seen from it,
blue above the purple hills.

Ensconced in this pleasant tomb of his life and longings, Mino sat down
before the narrow desk, with its two shelves at top, where he was
accustomed to devote himself to his studies. Then, dipping his reed in
the inkhorn fastened to the side of the little coffer that held his
sheets of parchment, his brushes, and his colours and gold dust, he
besought the flies, in the name of the Lord, not to annoy him, and began
to write the account of all he had seen and heard in the Chapel of San
Michele, during his night of torment, as well as on the day just done,
in the woods by the stream side. And first of all, he traced these lines
on the parchment:

"_A true record of those things which Fra Mino, of the Order of Friars
Minors, saw and heard, and which he doth here relate for the instruction
of the Faithful. To the praise of Jesus Christ and the glory of the
blessed and humble poor man of Christ, St. Francis. Amen._"

Then he set down in order in writing, without omitting aught, all he had
noted of the nymphs that turned into witches and the old man with horns
on his brow, whose voice quavered in the woods like a last sigh of the
Classic flute and a first prelude of the Christian harp. While he wrote,
the birds sang; and night closed in slowly, blotting out the bright
colours of the day. The Monk lighted his lamp, and went on with his
writing. As he recounted each several marvel he had made acquaintance
with, he carefully expounded its literal, and its spiritual,
signification, all according to the rules of rhetoric and theology. And
just as men fence about cities with walls and towers to make them
strong, so he supported all his arguments with texts of Scripture. He
concluded from the singular revelations he had received: firstly, that
Jesus Christ is Lord of all creatures, and is God of the Satyrs and the
Pans, as well as of men. This is why St. Jerome saw in the Desert
Centaurs that conf