"Oh, Holy Father!" she implored, "have mercy upon Venice! Forgive her
unfaithfulness, because she hath meant no sin!
"The Madonna hath granted me to reach Rome at last, because she hath
laid her command upon me in a vision and it could not fail. But all
those, my loved ones, have I lost by the weary way; and save for her
mercy I could not have reached thee.
"With prayers and penance have I striven--and ceased not--since the
anguish of thy displeasure came upon Venice. Oh, Holy Father! for all
the mothers who understand and grieve, and for our innocent little ones,
and for all those, our beloved, who are good and noble--and yet know not
the hard way of submission, because the Lord hath taught them some other
way--lift thy wrath from Venice, that our Heavenly Father hide not his
face in clouds too heavy for our prayers to reach him!
"It is the will of the Madonna San Donato--thou canst not refuse to lift
the doom!"
The words leaped over each other like a torrent--impetuous, passionate,
as if the moments for speech were few.
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