France -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
The two sisters set forth in the direction of the forest, and the
unicorn, who had once more become visible, walked ahead of them. They
pursued throughout their journey the trail of the wild beasts. And it
came to pass that when they had reached the depths of the wood, they saw
the unicorn take to the water and swim across a torrent. Now when they
came to the water's edge they were aware that it was both wide and deep.
They leaned over it to see if perchance there might be any
stepping-stones by means of which they could cross, but none such could
they discover. Now whilst they were leaning upon a willow and gazing
upon the foaming waters, the tree bent down suddenly and bore them
without effort to the opposite shore.
Thus, then, they arrived at the hermitage, where St. Berthold imparted
unto them the words of life. Upon their return, the willow uprearing
itself again bore them back to the other side.
Each day they betook themselves to the dwelling of the holy man, and
when they returned to their own home they found that all the thread on
their distaffs had been spun by invisible hands. For these reasons,
then, having received baptism, they believed in Jesus Christ.
For more than a year they received instruction from St. Berthold, when
Thierry their father, who was also called Porphyrodimus, was seized with
a cruel malady. Being aware that the end of their father was drawing
nigh, his daughters instructed him in the Christian faith. He
acknowledged the truth. And so it came about that his death was most
meritorious. He was ensepulchred near to his mortal home in a place
known as the Giant’s Mountain, and in after days his tomb was venerated
throughout the Pays Porcin.
Meanwhile the two sisters repaired daily to the dwelling of the holy
hermit Berthold, and they gathered from his lips the words of life. But
on a certain day when the rivers were greatly swollen by the melted
snows, Oliveria, as she went through the vineyards, took a prop that she
might with greater security cross the torrent whose much widened stream
sped along riotously.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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