Don Manuel de Lara: Their souls were barques too light to be freighted with love; for it is very heavy.
Sister Pilar: And so they did not sink.
Don Manuel de Lara: Who can tell if lightness of soul be not the greatest sin of all? And as to us ... the proverb says the paths that lead to God are infinite ... beloved, I feel.... Something holy is with us to-day.
Sister Pilar: Fiends, fiends, wearing the weeds of angels.... (Groans.)
Don Manuel de Lara: Rest, small love ... there, I’ll put my cloak for your head. Why is your body so thin and small?
Sister Pilar (her eyes fixed in horror): I cannot believe that it is really so. A week since, yesterday, an hour since, I ... was ... a ... a ... virgin, and now ... can God wipe out the past?
Don Manuel de Lara: Nay ... nor would I have Him do so.
Sister Pilar: Beloved ... we have sinned ... most grievously.
Don Manuel de Lara: What is sin? I would seem to have forgotten. What is sin, beloved? Be my herald and read me his arms.
Sister Pilar: Death ... I have said that before ... ah, yes, to the trovar ... death, death....