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第14节

the poor clare-第14节

小说: the poor clare 字数: 每页4000字

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 to learn what was going on。  Then we heard a faint; cracked; tinkling bell; coming shrill upon the air; clear and distinct from all other sounds。  〃Holy Mother!〃 exclaimed my landlord; 〃the Poor Clares!〃

He snatched up the fragments of my meal; and crammed them into my hands; bidding me follow。  Down stairs he ran; clutching at more food; as the women of his house eagerly held it out to him; and in a moment we were in the street; moving along with the great current; all tending towards the Convent of the Poor Clares。  And still; as if piercing our ears with its inarticulate cry; came the shrill tinkle of the bell。  In that strange crowd were old men trembling and sobbing; as they carried their little pittance of food; women with tears running down their cheeks; who had snatched up what provisions they had in the vessels in which they stood; so that the burden of these was in many cases much greater than that which they contained; children; with flushed faces; grasping tight the morsel of bitten cake or bread; in their eagerness to carry it safe to the help of the Poor Clares; strong menyea; both Anversois and Austrianspressing onward with set teeth; and no word spoken; and over all; and through all; came that sharp tinklethat cry for help in extremity。

We met the first torrent of people returning with blanched and piteous faces:  they were issuing out of the convent to make way for the offerings of others。  〃Haste; haste!〃 said they。  〃A Poor Clare is dying!  A Poor Clare is dead for hunger!  God forgive us and our city!〃

We pressed on。  The stream bore us along where it would。  We were carried through refectories; bare and crumbless; into cells over whose doors the conventual name of the occupant was written。  Thus it was that I; with others; was forced into Sister Magdalen's cell。  On her couch lay Gisborne; pale unto death; but not dead。  By his side was a cup of water; and a small morsel of mouldy bread; which he had pushed out of his reach; and could not move to obtain。  Over against his bed were these words; copied in the English version 〃Therefore; if thine enemy hunger; feed him; if he thirst; give him drink。〃

Some of us gave him of our food; and left him eating greedily; like some famished wild animal。  For now it was no longer the sharp tinkle; but that one solemn toll; which in all Christian countries tells of the passing of the spirit out of earthly life into eternity; and again a murmur gathered and grew; as of many people speaking with awed breath; 〃A Poor Clare is dying! a Poor Clare is dead!〃

Borne along once more by the motion of the crowd; we were carried into the chapel belonging to the Poor Clares。  On a bier before the high altar; lay a womanlay Sister Magdalenlay Bridget Fitzgerald。 By her side stood Father Bernard; in his robes of office; and holding the crucifix on high while he pronounced the solemn absolution of the Church; as to one who had newly confessed herself of deadly sin。  I pushed on with passionate force; till I stood close to the dying woman; as she received extreme unction amid the breathless and awed hush of the multitude around。  Her eyes were glazing; her limbs were stiffening; but when the rite was over and finished; she raised her gaunt figure slowly up; and her eyes brightened to a strange intensity of joy; as; with the gesture of her finger and the trance… like gleam of her eye; she seemed like one who watched the disappearance of some loathed and fearful creature。

〃She is freed from the curse!〃 said she; as she fell back dead。







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