rney on foot, and Count Orlando put a horse at his
disposal.

We can imagine the emotion with which he bade adieu to the mountain on
which had been unfolded the drama of love and pain which had consummated
the union of his entire being with the Crucified One.

Amor, amor, Gesu desideroso,
Amor voglio morire,
Te abrazando
Amor, dolce Gesu, meo sposo,
Amor, amor, la morte te domando,
Amor, amor, Gesu si pietoso
Tu me te dai in te transformato
Pensa ch'io vo spasmando
Non so o io me sia
Gesu speranza mia
Ormai va, dormi in amore.

So sang Giacopone dei Todi in the raptures of a like love.[1]

If we are to believe a recently published document,[2] Brother Masseo,
one of those who remained on the Verna, made a written account of the
events of this day.

They set out early in the morning. Francis, after having given his
directions to the Brothers, had had a look and a word for everything
around; for the rocks, the flowers, the trees, for brother hawk, a
privileged character which was authorized to enter his cell at all
times, and which came every morning, with the first glimmer of dawn, to
remind him of the hour of service.[3]

Then the little band set forth upon the path leading to
Monte-Acuto.[4] Arrived at the gap from whence one gets the last sight
of the Verna, Francis alighted from his horse, and kneeling upon the
earth, his face turned toward the mountain, "Adieu," he said, "mountain
of God, sacred mountain, _mons coagulatus, mons pinguis, mons in quo
bene placitum est Deo habitare_; adieu Monte-Verna, may God bless thee,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; abide in peace; we shall never
see one another more."

Has not this artless scene a delicious and poignant sweetness? He must
surely have uttered these words, in which suddenly the Italian does not
suffice and Francis is obliged to resort to the mystical language of
the breviary to express his feelings.

A few minutes later the rock of the ecstacy had disappeared. The descent
into the valley is rapid. The Brothers had decided to spend the night at
Monte-Casale, the little hermitage above Borgo San-Sepolcro. All of
them, even those who were to remain on the Verna, were still following
their master. As for him, absorbed in thought he had become entirely
oblivious to what was going on, and did not even perceive the noisy
enthusiasm which his passage aroused in the numerous villages along the
Tiber.

At Borgo San-Sepolcro he