“Shall I then,” cried the old man, “take upon myself that most wretched of parental duties—shall I go and find the chosen one, the man, and bring him back by main force to the most precious of my possessions, and courteously ask him to take it for his own? Here is a pretty little woman, dear sir; I beg that you will not despise her! I should greatly prefer to box your ears, but my daughter would die, and I must be polite!”
“We are spared all that,” said Jole, “for if I have your permission I hope to get him to come and ask for my hand.”
“And what if, not knowing him at all, he should prove to be a rascal and a good-for-nothing?”
“Then you may turn him from your door! But he is a saint!”
“Go, then, and leave me alone with the Muses!” said the good old man.
Another Vitalis came up the steps that evening than had come down the morning before, though he himself least understood the change. The notorious monk and girl-converter did not even know the difference between the smile of a courtesan and that of an honest woman.
As he entered the room it was richly decorated, and bore a homelike aspect. The delicate breath of flowers filling it was quite in keeping with a certain respectable worldliness; upon a snowy couch, the silk of which showed not a fold, sat Jole like a meditating angel. The folds of her dress were turbulent as a storm in a cup of milk, and though her beautiful white arms gleamed as she crossed them over her bosom, all those charms had an air of lawfulness which silenced the monk’s wonted eloquence.
“You are surprised to find all this pomp and show here,” began Jole. “Know, then, that this is my farewell to the world and to the love which I have unfortunately conceived for you. You must help me to put it from me as far as lies in your power, and in the manner which I shall designate. When you speak to me in your present attire and in your clerical function I am unmoved, for a priest cannot convince me, who am of this world. A monk cannot cure me of love, as he knows not the passion, and is ignorant of that of which he speaks. If, then, it is your earnest wish to give me peace and turn my heart toward heaven, go into yonder chamber, where worldly attire is awaiting you. Exchange your monkish cowl for the garb of a worldly man, and then return and partake of a small repast with me, during which you may bring all your wits and mental force into play to turn my heart away from you and set it toward heaven!”
Vitalis considered for a moment; then he decided to parry the devil of this world with his own weapons, and concede to Jole’s proposal.
He betook himself into the adjoining chamber, where servants were awaiting him with gorgeous apparel of linen and purple. No sooner had he donned them than he appeared to be a head taller, and with a noble bearing he walked back to Jole, who clapped her hands for joy.