... There was storied on the rock Th’ exalted glory of the Roman prince, Whose mighty worth moved Gregory to earn His mighty conquest—Trajan the Emperor. A widow at his bridle stood attired In tears and mourning. Round about them troop’d Full throng of knights: and overhead in gold The eagles floated, struggling with the wind. The wretch appear’d amid all these to say: ‘Grant vengeance, Sire! for, woe beshrew this heart, My son is murder’d!’ He, replying, seem’d: ‘Wait now till I return.’ And she, as one Made hasty by her grief: ‘O Sire, if thou Dost not return?’—‘Where I am, who then is, May right thee.’—‘What to thee is others’ good, If thou neglect thy own?’—‘Now comfort thee,’ At length he answers. ‘It beseemeth well My duty be perform’d, ere I move hence. So justice wills; and pity bids me stay.’ Cary’s DANTE, _Purg._ x. It was through the efficacy of St. Gregory’s intercession that Dante afterwards finds Trajan in Paradise, seated between King David and King Hezekiah. (_Par._ xx.) As a subject of painting, the story of Trajan was sometimes selected as an appropriate ornament for a hall of justice. We find it sculptured on one of the capitals of the pillars of the Ducal Palace at Venice: there is the figure of the widow kneeling, somewhat stiff, but very simple and expressive, and over it in rude ancient letters—‘_Trajano Imperador, che die justizia a la Vedova_.’ In the Town Hall of Ceneda, near Belluna, are the three Judgments (_i tre Giudizi_), painted by Pompeo Amalteo: the Judgment of Solomon, the Judgment of Daniel, and the Judgment of Trajan. It is painted in the Town Hall of Brescia by Giulio Campi, one of a series of eight righteous judgments. I found the same subject in the church of St. Thomas of Canterbury at Verona. ‘The son of the Emperor Trajan trampling over the son of the widow’ is a most curious composition by Hans Schaufelein.[289] * * * * * 7. There was a monk, who, in defiance of his vow of poverty, secreted in his cell three pieces of gold. Gregory, on learning this, excommunicated him, and shortly afterwards the monk died. When Gregory heard that the monk had perished in his sin, without receiving absolution, he was filled with grief and horror; and he wrote upon a parchment a prayer and a form of absolution, and gave it to one of his deacons, desiring him to go to the grave of the deceased and read it there: on the following night the monk appeared in a vision, and revealed to him his release from torment. This story is represented in the beautiful bas-relief in white marble in front of the altar of his chapel; it is the last compartment on the right. The obvious intention of this wild legend is to give effect to the doctrine of purgatory, and the efficacy of prayers for the dead.