Short Fiction by Selma Lagerlöf (android based ebook reader txt) 📕

to Christ to show me what was His will with me. Suddenly all the noise ceased, a great and wonderful silence surrounded me, and I saw a great meadow, where the Mother of God sat amongst the flowers, and on her lap lay the Child Jesus, playing with lilies. But I hurried thither in great joy, and knelt before the Child, and was at the same moment filled with peace and quietness, and then the Holy Child placed a ring on my finger, and said to me, ‘Know, Caterina, that today I celebrate My betrothal with thee, and bind thee to Me by the strongest faith.’ ”

“Oh, Caterina!”

The young Perugian had turned himself on the floor, so that he could bury his face in her lap. It was as if he could not bear to see how radiant she was whilst she was speaking, and now her eyes became bright as stars. A shadow of pain passed over him. For whilst she spoke a great sorrow had sprung up in his heart. This little maiden, this little white maiden, he could never win. Her love belonged to another; it could never be his. It was of no use even to tell her that he loved her; but he suffered; his whole being groaned in love’s agony. How could he bear to live without her? It almost became a consolation to remember that he was sentenced to death. It was not necessary for him to live and do without her.

Then the little woman beside him sighed deeply, and came back from the joys of heaven in order to think of poor human beings.

“I forgot to speak to you about your soul,” she said.

Then, he thought: “This burden, at any rate, I can lighten for her.”

“Sister Caterina,” he said, “I do not know how it is, but heavenly consolation has come to me. In God’s name I will prepare for death. Now you may send for the priests and monks; now I will confess to them. But one thing you must promise me before you go: you must come to me tomorrow, when I shall die, and hold my head between your hands as you are doing now.”

When he said this she burst into tears, from a great feeling of relief, and an unspeakable joy filled her.

“How happy you must be, Nicola Tungo!” she said. “You will be in Paradise before I am;” and she stroked his face gently.

He said again:

“You will come to me tomorrow in the Market Place? Perhaps I shall otherwise be afraid; perhaps I cannot otherwise die with steadfastness. But when you are there I shall feel nothing but joy, and all fear will leave me.”

“You do not seem to me any more as a poor mortal,” she said, “but as a dweller of Paradise. You appear to me radiant with life, surrounded by incense. Bliss comes to me from you, who shall so soon meet my beloved Bridegroom. Be assured I shall come.”

She then led him to confession and the Communion. He felt the whole time as if he were asleep. All the fear of death and the longing for life had passed away from him. He longed for the morning, when he should see her again; he thought only of her, and of the love with which she had inspired him. Death seemed to him now but a slight thing compared with the pain of the thought that she would never love him.

The young maiden did not sleep much during the night, and early in the morning she went to the place of execution, to be there when he came. She invoked Jesu, Mother, Marie, and the Holy Caterina of Egypt, virgin and martyr, incessantly with prayers to save his soul. Incessantly she repeated: “I will that he shall be saved⁠—I will, I will.” But she was afraid that her prayers were unavailing, for she did not feel any longer that ecstasy which had filled her the evening before; she only felt an infinite pity for him who should die. She was quite overcome with grief and sorrow.

Little by little the Market Place filled with people. The soldiers marched up, the executioner arrived, and much noise and talking went on around her; but she saw and heard nothing. She felt as if she were quite alone.

When Nicola Tungo arrived, it was just the same with him. He had no thought for all the others, but saw only her. When he saw at the first glance that she was entirely overcome with sorrow, his face beamed, and he felt almost happy. He called loudly to her:

“You have not slept much this night, maiden?”

“No,” she said; “I have watched in prayer for you; but now I am in despair, for my prayers have no power.”

He knelt down before the block, and she knelt so that she could hold his head in her hands.

“Now I am going to your Bridegroom, Caterina.”

She sobbed more and more.

“I can comfort you so badly,” she said.

He looked at her with a strange smile.

“Your tears are my best comfort.”

The executioner stood with his sword drawn, but she bade him with a movement stand on one side, for she would speak a few words with the doomed man.

“Before you came,” she said, “I laid my head down on the block to try if I could bear it; and then I felt that I was still afraid of death, that I do not love Jesus enough to be willing to die in this hour; and I do not wish you to die either, and my prayers have no power.”

When he heard this he thought: “Had I lived I should have won her”; and he was glad he should die before he had succeeded in drawing the radiant heavenly bride down to earth. But when he had laid his head in her hands, a great consolation came to them both.

“Nicola Tungo,” she said, “I see heaven open. The angels descend to receive your soul.”

A wondering smile passed over