Anselm [with excitement]. Hilarion! Brother Hilarion! Hither!
[Enter Hilarion in hot haste.
Hilarion [panting]. Did you call, Brother Anselmus?
Anselm. Summon the holy Father Abbot at once—say to him that it is a matter of importance. [Exit Hilarion, running. Anselmus returns to look at Rosalia again, muttering.] A matter of importance—a matter of importance.
[Enter Abbot and all Monks.
Abbot. At the wax doll bed, did you say, Hilarion? Ah, yes, there is my son Anselmus.
Anselm [coming forward]. Most holy Abbot, behold a miracle. Vide miraculum! Thou wilt remember that there was one wax doll planted which did not come up. Behold! in its place I have found this doll on crutches, which is—alive.
Monks. Alive! Strange! Wonderful!
Abbot. Alive, did you say, Anselmus! Let me see her. [Abbot bends over to see Rosalia. Monks crowd around to see.]
Abbot [rising]. Verum est! It is verily a miracle.