ABRAHAM. Most miserably. Afterwards she ran away.
EPHREM. But by what wiles did the ancient enemy bring about her undoing?
ABRAHAM. By the wiles of false love. Dressed in a monk’s habit, the hypocrite went to see her often. He succeeded in making the poor ignorant child love him. She leapt from the window of her cell for an evil deed.
EPHREM. I shudder as I listen to you.
ABRAHAM. When the unhappy girl knew that she was ruined, she beat her breast and dug her nails into her face. She tore her garments, pulled out her hair. Her despairing cries were terrible to hear.
EPHREM. I am not surprised. For such a fall a whole fountain of tears should rise.
ABRAHAM. She moaned out that she could never be the same—
EPHREM. Poor, miserable girl!
ABRAHAM. And reproached herself for having forgotten our warning.
EPHREM. She might well do so.