Well, the soldier stood, his right foot on the step and his sword in
his left hand, transfixed: listening gravely to the agony of prayer the
innocent young creature poured forth within:--
"O Madonna! hear me: it is for my mother's life. She will die--she will
die. You know she cannot live if she is taken away from her house and
from this holy place where she prays to you this many years. O Queen
of Heaven! put out your hand to us unfortunates! Virgin, hear a virgin:
mother, listen to a child who prays for her mother's life! The doctor
says she will not live away from here. She is too old to wander over the
world. Let them drive us forth: we are young, but not her, mother, oh,
not her! Forgive the cruel men that do this thing!--they are like those
who crucified your Son--they know not what they are doing. But you,
Queen of Heaven, you know all; and, sweet mother, if you have kind
sentiments towards me, poor Josephine, ah! show them now: for you know
that it was I who insulted that wicked notary, and it is out of hatred
to me he has sold our beloved house to a hard stranger.
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