But Cecilia’s marriage was a purely pagan ceremony, the first at which she had ever been obliged to assist. Wine and milk were offered to the gods, and she raised her heart to the one true God, renewing the offer of her whole being to Him; the cake, “the symbol of alliance,” was broken and shared, her hand was placed in the hand of her ardent bridegroom, and they were now man and wife. As the sun sank behind the Janiculum Hill, the bride was conducted, with great pomp and rejoicing, to the dwelling of her husband, across the Tiber, now the Church of St. Cecilia in Trastevere that we all know so well.
All the way, through the songs and music, Cecilia prayed in her heart that she might be protected, and be helped to keep her vow; brighter than the numberless torches carried in the procession shone her faith in God, who has never forsaken His own when they called upon Him. Valerianus was waiting for her in the stately pillared portico, all decorated with rich white tapestry and strewn with flowers. Here the second plighting of their bond took place, after the ancient Roman custom.
“Who art thou?” asked the bridegroom, as the bride first stepped on the portico.
“Where thou art Caius, I will be Caia,” Cecilia replied, in the invariable formula, which, in her case, was a double assurance, since she was directly descended from the noble Caia Cecilia, the type and standard for all good wives. To her was then presented, first, clear water, the emblem of purity, and then a key, symbolic of the care she must have of the household and its goods. After that she sate down for a moment on a fleece intended to remind her that she must work with her hands; and, these ceremonies over, the family and the guests accompanied the newly married ones into the dining-hall and the wedding banquet went merrily forward to the sound of music. Music was Cecilia’s own language, but she had always used her sweet voice to sing the praises of the one true God. Now she “sang to Him what was in her heart” and ceased not to pray. When all was over and the guests withdrew, the chosen band of matrons led Cecilia to the door of the sumptuous chamber, perfumed, full of flowers, dimly lighted, where her splendid passionate lover would come to make her his own.
Who cannot feel the awe and thrill of that moment, the choking of heart with which the maiden listened for Valerianus’ footsteps, the fear and the hope, the sublime trust in God, yet the full realisation of the struggle to come?
Valerianus entered, and came towards his bride, and Cecilia with great gentleness said: “Oh, most sweet and most beloved youth, there is a secret which I must confide to thee if now thou wilt swear sacredly to respect it.” Valerianus promised, very solemnly, that he would forever hold secret what she was about to tell him, and Cecilia continued: “I am under the care of an Angel whom God has appointed protector of my virginity. If thou shouldst violate it, his fury will be enkindled against thee, and thou wilt fall a victim to his vengeance. If, on the other hand, thou wilt respect it, he will bestow on thee his love and obtain for thee many blessings.”
Valerianus was greatly astonished and agitated, but Divine Grace was already working in his heart, and he replied: “Cecilia, if thou desirest that I should believe thee, let me see this Angel. Then, if I recognise him as truly an Angel of God, I will do as thou hast asked me. But, if I find thou lovest another man, both him and thee I will slay with my own sword.”
With calm and heavenly authority, Cecilia replied: “If thou wilt follow my counsel, Valerianus, if thou wilt consent to be purified in the fountain of eternal life, if thou wilt believe in the one true and living God, thou shalt behold my Guardian Angel.”
Eagerly Valerianus cried, “And who will purify me, that I may see him?”
“There is a holy old man who thus purifies mortals,” she said.