was
conversation, whereas at Santa Lucia there had been a rule of silence during meals. But she was too tired to think very much about these matters, and as soon as the meal was over and prayers had been said, the two nuns who had greeted her on her arrival took her to her cell. She felt that the bed was soft, and that reminded her that they had eaten meat. The nuns were very friendly, respectful even; she could ask them why they ate meat on Fridays. She did.
‘Here in the Murate, Duchessina , we may eat meat on Fridays. It was a special dispensation from the Holy Father many years ago.’
They were shocked by the coarseness of the shirt she wore, and brought her one of fine linen. ‘This will be better for your delicate skin, Duchessina .’
‘At Santa Lucia,’ she told them, ‘all wore coarse shirts next the skin.’
‘That is well enough for Santa Lucia, but here in the Murate we are not of lowly birth, as many are in Santa Lucia. Here we temper godliness with reason.
For the glory of God, we wear our sombre robes, but for sweet reason’s sake we wear fine linen next our skins. Now sleep, dear little Duchess. You are among friends here.’
First one bent down to kiss her. ‘My brother is a member of the Medici
party,’ she whispered. ‘He will rejoice to know you are safe with friends.’
The second nun bent over her. ‘My family await deliverance from the
republicans.’
Caterina stared up at them and they laughed.
‘Tomorrow we will show you who are the supporters of your noble family.
There are many here in the Murate.’
‘And are there some for the republicans?’ asked Caterina.
‘Some. But that makes life exciting!’ said the nun who had first kissed her.
Caterina could not sleep when they had left her. She realized at once that life was going to be very different from what it had been in Santa Lucia.
―――――――
‘Pray be seated,’ said the Reverend Mother.
How small the child looked in the big chair, her feet scarcely touching the ground. But what poise, what dignity! So rare in one so young. This child was going to be quick to learn and a joy to teach. For that very reason and because she was doubtless observant, it was imperative for the Reverend Mother to have a talk with her.
Yesterday Caterina had witnessed the entry of a young novice into the
convent. There was a significant ceremony which always took place on such occasions, and from this ceremony the convent took its name. The novice
arrived outside the convent walls accompanied by high dignitaries of the
Church, who, with their own hands, broke down a section of the wall, and
through the hole they made the novice pass. When she had done this, the wall was built up again. It was solemn and significant; the novice had passed behind the grey walls forever; she was built in and could not leave the Murate.
And little Caterina was puzzled. She had been for six months with the nuns of Santa Lucia, and Santa Lucia, with its fasting and strict observances, would seem what a convent should be. Here in the Murate there were amusement and laughter; the nuns were highly-born ladies, gay rather than earnest. It might seem to that logical little mind that, for all its ceremonies an outward show of piety, the Convent of the Murate was less holy than that of Santa Lucia; and it was very important what this little girl thought of the Murate, for one day she was to make a grand marriage and hold a very high position in the world. She must be made to understand that the Murate’s way of life was, in its comfort, as godly as that of the Santa Lucia its austerity.
‘You are a little puzzled by our ways here, Duchessina ?’ asked the Reverend Mother.
‘I am very happy here, my Mother.’
She was a little diplomat already. It was certainly very important that she should be made to see the Murate point of view.
‘You never saw such ceremonies as you witnessed yesterday when you were
at Santa Lucia. Yet, in that convent,
conversation, whereas at Santa Lucia there had been a rule of silence during meals. But she was too tired to think very much about these matters, and as soon as the meal was over and prayers had been said, the two nuns who had greeted her on her arrival took her to her cell. She felt that the bed was soft, and that reminded her that they had eaten meat. The nuns were very friendly, respectful even; she could ask them why they ate meat on Fridays. She did.
‘Here in the Murate, Duchessina , we may eat meat on Fridays. It was a special dispensation from the Holy Father many years ago.’
They were shocked by the coarseness of the shirt she wore, and brought her one of fine linen. ‘This will be better for your delicate skin, Duchessina .’
‘At Santa Lucia,’ she told them, ‘all wore coarse shirts next the skin.’
‘That is well enough for Santa Lucia, but here in the Murate we are not of lowly birth, as many are in Santa Lucia. Here we temper godliness with reason.
For the glory of God, we wear our sombre robes, but for sweet reason’s sake we wear fine linen next our skins. Now sleep, dear little Duchess. You are among friends here.’
First one bent down to kiss her. ‘My brother is a member of the Medici
party,’ she whispered. ‘He will rejoice to know you are safe with friends.’
The second nun bent over her. ‘My family await deliverance from the
republicans.’
Caterina stared up at them and they laughed.
‘Tomorrow we will show you who are the supporters of your noble family.
There are many here in the Murate.’
‘And are there some for the republicans?’ asked Caterina.
‘Some. But that makes life exciting!’ said the nun who had first kissed her.
Caterina could not sleep when they had left her. She realized at once that life was going to be very different from what it had been in Santa Lucia.
―――――――
‘Pray be seated,’ said the Reverend Mother.
How small the child looked in the big chair, her feet scarcely touching the ground. But what poise, what dignity! So rare in one so young. This child was going to be quick to learn and a joy to teach. For that very reason and because she was doubtless observant, it was imperative for the Reverend Mother to have a talk with her.
Yesterday Caterina had witnessed the entry of a young novice into the
convent. There was a significant ceremony which always took place on such occasions, and from this ceremony the convent took its name. The novice
arrived outside the convent walls accompanied by high dignitaries of the
Church, who, with their own hands, broke down a section of the wall, and
through the hole they made the novice pass. When she had done this, the wall was built up again. It was solemn and significant; the novice had passed behind the grey walls forever; she was built in and could not leave the Murate.
And little Caterina was puzzled. She had been for six months with the nuns of Santa Lucia, and Santa Lucia, with its fasting and strict observances, would seem what a convent should be. Here in the Murate there were amusement and laughter; the nuns were highly-born ladies, gay rather than earnest. It might seem to that logical little mind that, for all its ceremonies an outward show of piety, the Convent of the Murate was less holy than that of Santa Lucia; and it was very important what this little girl thought of the Murate, for one day she was to make a grand marriage and hold a very high position in the world. She must be made to understand that the Murate’s way of life was, in its comfort, as godly as that of the Santa Lucia its austerity.
‘You are a little puzzled by our ways here, Duchessina ?’ asked the Reverend Mother.
‘I am very happy here, my Mother.’
She was a little diplomat already. It was certainly very important that she should be made to see the Murate point of view.
‘You never saw such ceremonies as you witnessed yesterday when you were
at Santa Lucia. Yet, in that convent,
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