Gracious one, formed his mouth. Mine! Mine! My beloved! How could the world have existed before you were? How must God have smiled when he created you! You are speaking?—What are you saying?—My heart is shouting within me—I cannot catch your words.... Be patient with me, gracious one, beloved!
Without his being aware of it, drawn by an invisible unbreakable cord, he pushed himself forward on his knees, nearer and nearer to the shimmer which the girl’s face was to him. At last he was so near that he could have touched the hem of her dress with his outstretched hand.
“Look at me, Virgin!” implored his eyes. “Mother, look at me!”
But her gentle eyes looked out over him. Her lips said:
“My brothers....”
And stopped dumb, as though alarmed.
Freder raised his head. Nothing had happened—nothing to speak of, only that the air which passed through the room had suddenly become audible, like a raised breath, and that it was cool, as though coming in through open doors.
With a faint crackling sound the swords of flame bowed themselves. Then they stood still again.
“Speak, my beloved!” said Freder’s heart.
Yes, now she spoke. This is what she said: