Church history -- 4th century -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
"Enough!" exclaimed Dorothea, interrupting her son who stood before her
in great agitation and with trembling lips. "God forbid that that mask
there should destroy your life and soul. I suffer nothing impure within
my house, and you should not in your heart. That which is evil can never
more be fair, and however lovely the face there may look to you, it looks
quite as repulsive to me when I reflect that it probably smiled still
more fascinatingly on some strolling beggar. If the Gaul brings her back
I will turn her out of my house, and I will destroy her image with my own
hands if you do not break it in pieces on the spot."
Dorothea's eyes were swimming in tears as she spoke these words. She had
felt with pride and emotion during her son's speech how noble and high-
minded he was, and the idea that this rare and precious treasure should
be spoilt or perhaps altogether ruined for the sake of a lost woman,
drove her to desperation, and filled her motherly heart with indignation.
Firmly resolved to carry out her threat she stepped towards the figure,
but Polykarp placed himself in her way, raising his arm imploringly to
defend it, and saying, "Not to-day--not yet, mother! I will cover it up,
and will not look at it again till to-morrow, but once--only once--I must
see it again by sunlight."
"So that to-morrow the old madness may revive in you!" cried Dorothea.
"Move out of my way or take the hammer yourself."
"You order it, and you are my mother," said Polykarp.
He slowly went up to the chest in which his tools and instruments lay,
and bitter tears ran down his cheeks, as he took his heaviest hammer in
his hand.
When the sky has shown for many days in summer-blue, and then suddenly
the clouds gather for a storm, when the first silent but fearful flash
with it noisy but harmless associate the thunder-clap has terrified the
world, a second and third thunder-bolt immediately follow. Since the
stormy night of yesterday had broken in on the peaceful, industrious, and
monotonous life by the senator's hearth, many things had happened that
had filled him and his wife with fresh anxiety.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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