The young woman made no reply, but sighed. Genevieve, mounted, like her mistress, on a stool, raised herself on the points of her toes, and soon saw the celebrated courtezan enter the tavern.
Magdalen was possessed of a rare beauty; the chin-piece of her turban of white silk edged with gold, encased her pale and swarthy face of an admirable perfection; her long eye-brows, as black as ebony, like the bands of her hair, appeared as a dark line along the brow hitherto superb and brazen; but now, mournful and depressed, for she seemed completely heart-broken. The ends of her eye-lashes, stained with a blue color according to the oriental fashion, gave to her eyes, drowned in tears, something strange, and seemed to double the grandeur of her orbs, sparkling through her tears like two diamonds.
A long robe of Tyrian silk of shaded blue, edged with gold and embroidered with pearls, fell in a long train behind her, and round her waist she had a flowing scarf of cloth of gold covered with stones of many colors, like those of the double necklaces, ear-rings and bracelets, with which her bare and well-shaped arms were covered; and thus attired, holding in her hands an urn of pink alabaster from Chaldea, more precious than gold, she advanced quite slowly towards the young man of Nazareth.
'What a change in Magdalen's traits,' said Jane to Aurelia. 'I have seen her pass a hundred times in her litter, carried by her attendants, dressed in rich liveries; the triumph of beauty, and the intoxication and joy of youth could be read in her countenance. And she is timidly approaching Jesus, humble, oppressed, weeping, and more sorrowful than the saddest of the poor women who hold in their arms their ill-clad infants.'
'But what is she about?' inquired Aurelia, more and more attentive; 'she stands before the young man of Nazareth; in one hand she holds her alabaster urn pressed against her agitated bosom, whilst with the other she detaches her rich turban. She throws it far from her. Her thick and glossy tresses fall over her breast and shoulders, unroll themselves like a velvet mantle and even trail on the ground.'
'Oh! look! look! her tears redouble,' said Jane; 'her face is drowned in them.'
'She kneels at the feet of Jesus,' continued Aurelia, 'and covers them with tears and kisses.'
'What heart-rending sobs!'
'And the tears she sheds on the feet of Mary's son she wipes away with her long hair.'
'And now, still melting in tears, she takes her alabaster urn and empties over the feet of Jesus a delicious perfume, the scent of which reaches here.'