I had been unable to understand for what reason it was that San Luigi of
Gonzaga had from years of discretion never allowed his eyes to rest upon a
woman; nor could I see wherein lay the special merit attributed to this.
And certain passages in the Confessions of St. Augustine and in the early
life of St. Francis of Assisi bewildered me and left me puzzled.
But now, quite suddenly, it was as if revelation had come to me. It was as
if the Book of Life had at last been opened for me, and at a glance I had
read one of its dazzling pages. So that whether this brown peasant girl
was beautiful or not, beautiful she seemed to me with the radiant beauty
that is attributed to the angels of Paradise. Nor did I doubt that she
would be as holy, for to see in beauty a mark of divine favour is not
peculiar only to the ancient Greeks.
And because of the appeal of this beauty--real or supposed--I was very
ready with my protection, since I felt that protection must carry with it
certain rights of ownership which must be very sweet and were certainly
desired.
Holding her, therefore, within the shelter of my arms, where in her
heedless innocence she had flung herself, and by very instinct stroking
with one hand her little brown head to soothe her fears, I became truculent
for the first time in my new-found manhood, and boldly challenged her
pursuer.
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