"Adored Madonna," murmured Guido, kissing feet that were pure as the dew, "I am unworthy of your favors and see, my kisses are full of tears. Virgin of all love, my love was but a drop of water, and you have taken it in the holy lily of your heart. Be blessed for your goodness."
The Novella stooped towards the prisoner and touched his face with her lips.
She removed her crown of stars: the stars took wings to the roof and made a firmament of it. The buckle of her girdle hung in the air like a sun and the clasp of her cloak became a moon of white nights.
She sighed deeply, and from her lips was born a cloud that veiled the beaming glory of the stars with a vague charm. Then she said:
"Guido, you have doubted, look and die of love!"
She blossomed into a mystic rose that exhaled an adorable perfume.
And Guido's heart was filled with sweetness.
Then she became a pure mirror in which flamed a sword.
And Guido's heart was filled with justice.
Then she became a throne of cedar where graven sentences could be read.