Acta Sanctorum, Februarius tom. I (Palme repr. 1863) — a Latin hexameter Life by Chilienus, here rendered into English prose. The file begins part-way through chapter I and breaks off in chapter X, where the Monte Cassino manuscript was itself defective; the interleaved marginal summaries and the Bollandist notes are rendered with the text.

Chapter One #

[The opening sections of this chapter are missing from the file, which begins mid-episode.]

§6. …She would entreat her father, smitten with pity, and take care to defend with kindly words the boys who wickedly betrayed the father’s animals in the woods to thieves and wolves. Then Brigid, the holy girl, would mark off the full count of the flocks — wonderful to tell — and no beast was found to have felt any loss.

§7. It chanced one day that the aforementioned girl was in the pleasant meadows; while she was gathering the ruddy flowers, carrying lilies mixed with little roses in her basket, a storm-laden sky burst in gathered rains, and the icy drop sprinkled the maiden’s mantle, and the cold garment hung about her tender neck. She, hastening home again, had scattered the fragrant herbs; the sun uncovered its rays in clear light and she looked up with her eyes — the turbid shower departed while the sky gleamed red, and it sent in its rays: like a cord they entered and pierced the shadowed roof. The Virgin of God put her garment upon the ministering sunbeam, and the ray bore the wet mantle from its heights: the most holy Virgin had made a pact with Christ that the empty beam of the sun should carry her clothing.

§8. When the saint was in the middle of the vaulted church, praying to the Father with devout heart, keeping care for the poor in the teaching of mercy, there came many of the afflicted with heavy cries, beating upon the virgin’s ears with their voices, all alike seeking food. The sober Virgin came down and addressed a boy, lame with a withered knee, deaf in his ears, who was losing the commerce of voice — of throat and tongue — through a lasting disease. The Virgin, unknowing of evil, drew words from her breast: “Run quickly, boy; carry now food to him that asks.” With such words the saint then addressed him where he sat. And the manifest power of God attended the Virgin’s speech: the lame, the deaf, the crippled went away healed, borne now upon his own feet — the threefold disease left the boy as he went. All the people praise Christ for the Virgin’s deed, who by her various virtues heals so many of the sick.

§9. Next to her there was a youth who by his parents’ right was their only care; he beat upon the Virgin’s ears — in person, and through his father, his brothers and sisters — promising to add gifts to gifts: gold, purple, weights of silver, garments, the riches of a house, a thousand fields, slaves. The holy Virgin of God despised all those gifts, as the black dung of the earth is trodden underfoot. She said: “I have one spouse, born of a Virgin; His father never knew a woman’s bed — fairer than the starry host, higher than the ranks of heaven, more comely than the angelic minds, loftier than the stars; by whose gracious fragrance the bonds of death are loosed. He it is who enclosed precious stones for me in gold; He offered me a fair necklace for my neck; into my ears He gave me gem-set gold, a woven robe; He shared His golden chamber with me, and showed me His own rich treasure; these pearls He fitted to my ears; and with His own ring He sealed me, to keep my chaste couch for Himself from every embrace.”

§10. She spoke, and wiped her eyes with sad countenance. See, her brothers assailed her with unjust words and pressed their sad father to betroth the girl. The most holy Virgin prepared to answer them with words, and to keep her chaste purity for the bridal-bed of Christ. When they heard this they began to mock with words; one impious man arose from among those brothers and struck the handmaid of Christ as she stood with devout heart; that perverse man lost one of his own eyes: leaping from his head, the light mingled with blood flowed down upon the ground — an angel had struck him. Then the saint cursed her wretched brother, and said his offspring should serve in slavery. She spoke…

§10 (continued). She spoke; and at once the brothers began to entreat their sad sister for the perishing eye, for the ailing brother’s plight. The Virgin was smitten at heart alike, and restored the eye that had been torn out, gathering the fragment. Water failed in that place: by her merits — wonderful to tell — she drew forth a spring: Christ gave the Virgin a vein of water torn from the turf of the fields, and restored the friendly light. She washed his head; he bore it in his twin arms. O saint of God, long memorable, to be venerated through many years! All the people pay to Christ the praises of their laud; the youth went away trembling.

§11. But then the saint of God, drawing voices from her breast, addressed the youth who was bearing many marriage-gifts: “Look now, young man, upon the castle set on the lofty height, planted in olden times by the neighbouring people; in it dwells a prudent man, sprung of proud blood, in whom great power prevails; he has an only daughter by his chaste wife — his father’s delight, a maiden of excellent body. That fair girl is ready for you, young man; hear what is said to you, taking it into your ears: this chaste house, too, is a fair offspring of the stock. Believe, go now… so shall your fortunes await you.” The youth went on his way, trusting in his heart the words of the kind Virgin: she, foretelling all things with prophetic mind, sees the presages of matters.

§12. Time and the hour fly; the Virgin grew in years, giving very many signs through the years at Christ’s dictation. And when this word reached her father’s ears — that of her own will his daughter served God in Christ, and that she had spurned the noxious joys of the fragile world — the bishop thereupon resolved to send his own messengers to her cell, the holy girl going with them. As those men were coming, by chance one ran to meet them in the middle of the fields; he said: “Give me a blessing! What seek you? What do you desire? Where would you go?” “That the Virgin may be consecrated with devout heart, that she may wed God, taking the sacred veil — Dubthach himself, the kind Virgin’s father, sent us even to the bishop’s house,” they said each to the other; such words they spoke. That traveller answered: “I myself will be your guide; now see the church.” Entering together — the bishop then stood at the altar — the blessed Virgin was hedged about with seven maidens, of like vow, assigned to the symbolic number. Brigid, God’s saint, cast herself at the pontiff’s feet and prayed, beseeching him with prayers, tears and voice: “O kindly father, you see us stand at Your altars; now bless Your handmaids standing with devout heart, and you shall mark our brows with holy chrism.” At the time the bishop poured out the waves of chrism and with his thumb blessed the maidens’ veils together, and when the saint bowed her head with bended knee, embracing and holding fast the foot of the altar and praying — I speak marvels! — flames from her holy head mounted to the sky: her parents said it was the Virgin’s sign. Bishop Melchon marvels at such things. “O Virgin blessed of God in the sacred veil, mindful of me,” he said, “may you, Brigid, be holy in the veil.” With such words he addressed her, and dismissed her going. [And she left upon the altar-foot marks of fire — a sign to future ages.]

[The column-interleaved marginal notes hereabouts run: “She intercedes for the shepherd’s and swineherd’s faults, and restores what was lost; she hangs her wet garment on a sunbeam; unknowingly she heals the lame, mute and deaf; she refuses marriage for love of Christ; cursing the brother who pressed her unduly, she procures his eye to be plucked out by an angel” — “the eye restored” — “to the suitor she designates another bride.”]

§13–14. “…consumed; yet the ash so remains.” And he saw maidens bearing tremulous flames in their hands in order. “What are you? What does this light mean? Who sent those lamps? Maidens, I adjure you, tell me!” All answered: “At Brigid’s bidding, our mistress, we come to you; now we prepare for you dwellings filled with feasts, and fodder for your horses.”

Chapter Two #

Hospitality shown even to absent and wandering guests; healings of souls and bodies #

By Chilienus.

§15. It chanced one day that she came to visit the sisters and turned aside to a certain cell in which holy maidens then bloomed in flower. They receive the saint and prepared to serve her alike; they cast themselves at her feet, fixed kisses with their hands, and saw sweet dishes on the comely tables. But meanwhile there appeared to her an unclean spirit in person, rolling its flaming eyes, gnashing its teeth; flames furrowed its hollow throat; insulting her it stood on black and twisted legs. Brigid, God’s saint, asked the horrible monster: “Why, accursed one, do you pervert by your arts those whom Christ purchased with His own blood as His servants? Why do you disturb God’s holy places? Why, envious one, do you creep with your ancient poisons through the hearts of the peoples? Why, accursed pestilence, have you entered these houses? do you wish to set them alight?” said the most illustrious Virgin. “One maid alone consents often-times to my doings: it is she who makes my bed warm at evening, and all night long I lie secretly in the maiden’s couch,” the Tartarean angel then said with swift mouth. All were silent; what they had not been able to see, the sound of the voice reached the ears of the holy women alike. Then the first of the sisters said: “Alas for me, who is speaking? Would I could see the speaker!” [She sees the demon.] Brigid blessed the Virgin’s dull sight. She saw and feared, and wished to hide her face. There came in fear that girl of whom we have spoken before, who cherished the black lover in a warm bed; at no times would she visit the saints’ church, nor stand steadfast in the choirs, evil-persuaded. Then the saint, chastising the wretched girl severely: “Why do you alone offer place to the malignant spirits? Look now upon him who owns you as his lover! are you not ashamed to serve black shapes?” She, trembling, turned her fearful face from the guest: “Alas for me then, wretched! I know not what I shall do,” she said; and fell in supplication at the kind Virgin’s feet. She stretched forth her hand to the trembling girl, raised her up, and prudently the Virgin commanded the dragon to flee. It fled, and left a putrid odour in the house; and the virgin choir gave thanks for the gift, and by the Virgin’s merit keep giving praises to Christ.

§15 (contd.). Time having passed, the venerable bishop had come there to the saint, hastening over long ways, beneath a darkening sun; but the path deceived him in the woods. Evening having now fallen, they essay the confines of night: night rushes on and pregnant shadows roll about the hills; hope of a bed flees, and the power to lodge in the woods, or to get home again; nor had he what he might hope. To all his company he drew forth words from his breast: “Alas! the clouds come down evilly from the shadowy sky — what shall we do?” he said; “entreat the holy maid.” See, beneath the dark leaves of the woods a fire flashed forth which with a comely lamp had scattered liquid flames; and on the right he saw fair maidens in snowy dress amid the woods with clear light, bearing fire-laden torches more worthily they went. The elder, marveling at the virgin troops through the pathless places, said the Teacher speaks more gently: “You who bear fire-laden lights in the night, you who carry lamps — what are you? What does this light mean? Who sent these lamps? Hold, I adjure you, and tell me, maidens.” All answered: “At Brigid’s bidding, our mistress, we come to you; now we prepare you dwellings filled with feasts, and fodder for your horses.” O manifest power of God! In that very place temples are shown prepared suddenly, and roofed dining-halls arise in that wilderness, and likewise fair banquets. They raised glad dishes and prepared tables and wines; they spread the wooden seats with painted coverings; now white towels hang on the fair benches; they assign in due order the number of beds, that each man might have his lord his own bed; they deck the sweet feasts in the comely dwellings and set great fires in the middle of the halls. Rest having now been given to the boys, the sisters departed at night; they leave oil for the beds, and lights.

§16. On the next day, when Phoebus lights the orb with his twelve rays, surveys sea and sky, and has scattered the trembling shadows of the earth alike — in the morning they perceive they are beneath the leafy boughs, lodging on the grassy turf without a roof for the night. They all arose, and saw no dwellings there then; they redoubled their talk and beat the air with their voices. Nor was it doubtful that Christ, by the kind Virgin’s merits, had then sent those great provisions into the wilderness by angelic hands, and given ministering flames. The bishop opens a way for the boys through the pathless woods to the Virgin’s cell; together they pay to the Lord the praises of laud, thanks to Christ for the gift. The Virgin was conscious of the power; skilled in labour, the Virgin prepared a worthy hospitality for the boys. After she duly refreshed the saints’ limbs with food and sprinkled warm water over the bishop’s feet, then for their thirst she sets the cups of Ireland; thereafter the saint spoke with words the heavenly teachings: then they all praised the Lord of heaven with their voices, who ever bestows very many miracles on His saints.

§17. And after the sun, turning aside his ruddy chariot from the summit, was beginning another year with its light — the twelve signs having been accomplished in the course of time — the saint then resolved to visit her own borders. A certain man ran urgently through the middle of the fields, bearing on his neck his mother sick in her limbs, who could not draw food to her lips with her own hands: a putrid disease vexed her body. The rising sun was giving its shining light to the lands; Brigid, God’s saint, is carried in her chariot along the crossroads; he cast the ailing mother into the Virgin’s shadow. I speak marvels! They saw the aged woman run at once on her own feet with firm steps. There was no delay nor rest; the woman runs over the fields until she fell prostrate at the Virgin’s feet with her whole body, and gave great thanks for the gift.

§18. Another great image of her virtue shone forth. A frightful leper had come to the saint, his icy limbs sprinkled with a very black wound: rough and putrid matter flowed from his flesh, his body towered with ulcers up to the crown of his head, his bowels were tormented by venomous fibres, and his squalid lips were furrowed with aged phlegm; his head gleamed white with horrible scab beneath his helmet, and long sighs alike wearied his breast. Yet he, thus oppressed by his lasting disease, burned with avarice and with a great greed of things, and grief crept inwardly through the chambers of his mind. He said to the saint: “For Christ’s name I wish always to have a cow: if you, holy maid, can now give me one in milk, let your will deign — that afterwards the milk may be kept for wretched me for my use; and Christ will give you much for a small gift.” She kindly coaxed the needy man with pious words: “Dear brother, let us await the gifts of my Christ. For at the moment no cow is kept for me in the byre; but since God often bestows much on him that asks, hold out a little — receive the cow as it comes, bearing udders foaming with bright milk.” Then said he: “I am willing, if it be your will — I cannot merely look on.” Then the holy maid said to the wretch flowing foully with leprosy and rottenness, having a body full of pustules and wrinkles: “Though you are scabby, with limbs full between the skin, and your bowels greatly numbed with black poisons — yet if you believe in good faith the help of Christ, perchance He may cleanse the contagions of your flesh; but first let us ask these things in prayer with devout mind…”

§19. Into the place where there was a rightful company of holy sisters, the Virgin is carried in her chariot with many maidens; for they ever besought her in prayer to visit them and bless them all with her right hand and her words. Then the humble folk stretched their right hands to the stars, and sang holy odes with sweet voices, and duly rendered service with a warm bath. One of the sisters was greatly afflicted at home with hostile fevers; feeble, she burned in her trembling limbs. “Bring me at once, friend — I adjure you — the water in which the kind Virgin’s feet have been washed, that healing may now come to my limbs from the healthful dew; see, I would be wholly bathed in the holy waters.” The sick woman thus spoke to her own people when she was anxious, near to death; a dry thirst scarce sounded words from her lips. The woman brought water, sprinkled it, gave it, and cherished her; for the cold drop could overcome the hot pestilence: when the blessed water touched her body, it lifted her. The maiden arose on her feet, ran at once — there was no delay nor rest — until the venerable girl, duly taught, came to the attendance of the holy women and, ready, served mingled with her own maidens and discharged her due tasks with the other ministers. The ignoble crowd began to shout in the place and filled the air with loud trembling cries.

§20. She, entreated by her own, came with her maidens to a certain cell of a consecrated virgin, at the Paschal season, Brigid to keep the feast. The Lord’s Supper was near, at which the saint used to fulfil Christ’s commandment with a warm washing, and to cherish the limbs of the wretched with her own hands. Four — alas! — wretched sisters had been beset by a great languor and by various lasting diseases: one was a leper, drenched over her whole body; paralysis held the limbs of the second wretch; the third was blind and could not have light; an unclean spirit had openly invaded the fourth. These had one house; none cared to consort with such sick women, nor would anyone join himself to them. The Virgin wished to bathe the limbs of those wretched women in warm water and to wash the filth from their bodies; yet she could not — their stubborn will persisted: each sought a vessel to be prepared for herself, one refused to be bathed in another’s water. See, lepers are ever custom to have the foolish squeamishness of their malady. The most holy Virgin said: “I will perform all things you wish to seek for yourselves; only let the concord of your peace remain.” She spoke, Brigid comforting with pious words the sick, prostrate in body with grievous diseases. The paralytic is first led from her bed to be washed; she cried out with loud voices in excessive pain: “Alas, who will restore me health worthy of my languor, the frame of my nerves and sides being loosed from my limbs, and will grant me to visit that holy temple with my feet — may Christ’s mercy bestow it!” Such words she gave; she is plunged into the warm waters. Then the Virgin washed the wretch with sparing hand and more gently sustained her body in her twin arms, and chafed the numbed limbs with her holy hands. The power is wrought: the crippled woman suddenly felt she had her lively vigour back; step by step her sentient body received the gratuitous health of her limbs; and rising, she went on her own firm feet, and the woman paid worthy thanks to the Lord.

§21. When the other three wretched women saw the poor creature healed before the Virgin’s eyes, and moving herself, they cried out alike: “Most holy Virgin, if your holy hand shall pass over our limbs in the washing, you can bestow health of body and soul upon us.” With these voices they all beat upon the Virgin’s ears. She, filled with God, washed those three in the waters, one after another, and the fourth also: thus she accomplished the work in the same vessel, the Virgin by the gift of mercy. There was peace for the sick, and a great power of health. The madness of their diseases was shaken from all the maidens: the sightless one is bathed in the waters — she departed with opened eyes; the horrid leprosy fled while she was sprinkled with the trembling waters; the unclean spirit at last left her who held it. I speak marvels! At once the four wretched sick women are all healed by the merit of one Virgin.

[Notes: a) Bostar — the steading of oxen, or the place where oxen stand. Gerardus Joannes Vossius, book 2 De vitiis sermonis ch. 2, cites several authors who used this word. b) Some things seem to have been omitted.]

Chapter Three #

Harshness of spirits benignly repressed #

§22. In those times a certain man, following the precepts, left the sweet countryside with the various dwellings: he, smitten with the fear of God, laden with boys, pressed on through the rough places as a teacher, and sought a desert place and the secret places of the wilderness. These suddenly turned aside to one of the Virgin’s cells. There the saint was staying with her holy maidens, at the time when the aforementioned priest came. It was the custom among the ancients that wherever the holy women went, and passed through a place, then no one wished to look upon women’s faces; so they speak these words among themselves. For this cause then they would not see the Blessed One. They set down in the place the weights hanging from their necks; they took counsel to rest their limbs a little while. After rest had been given, they pressed on in the daylight until the sun hid its bright eyes beneath a black veil and the trembling shadows came down upon the hills. These then deserted the house of the holy sisters for the sake of this observance, and forgetfulness touched their minds: for the brothers forgot their burdens. Confused utterly, returning afterwards for the loss, the companions, unmindful, sought the traces of their belongings; yet found them not. At length they came sad to the kind Virgin’s cell — but joys filled their hearts, for the Virgin suddenly shows all that had been lost: Christ — wonderful to tell — for the Virgin’s merit had kept all the men’s burdens safe. Then Brigid and the brothers, rejoicing alike, treated of the sweet gifts of the everlasting life.

§23. For there was an island amid the waves, to which that priest, if he wished, could go and dwell until the day of his death. The third light had now scattered the black shadows from the hills; the father himself said: “Of you now, holy maid, we ask aid; we all greatly beseech you — where shall I, a pilgrim, tend? Where may I turn? Grant the help of your mercy; have pity on our labour.” [It was needful to provide them horses.] The wicked husbandman despised the Virgin’s words. “Believe me, boys — Christ will have pity on them: let your baggage, which greatly wearies you here, be set upon horses; then you can go more lightly.” They went hence a space; the blessed maid, seeing the shores near, said: “Loose the weights of your goods; it will not be lawful to keep the horses longer: for your sake Christ has lent them to me for the hour.” Before, no one had seen them in those borders; afterwards — I speak marvels — they were seen at no time.

§24. That dutiful priest came even to the haven of the sea; he crossed in a ship; the island pleased him when seen, and he wished to dwell there. Yet the husbandman himself resisted him to his face: “These are my lands — begone!” The fool spoke these words with hardened breast. Now the saint had begun to entreat the man with words to grant Christ a very small portion of the field. With stopped ears he would not hear these things, holding his swollen neck exceedingly with hardened breast: “For I can give you no part here — I have told you; go, hold your way; there is no need now to scatter more words” — and he turned his back — he said: “Go!” The Virgin of God turned away her eyes with sad countenance, revolving these things within herself a little in her silent heart. See, beneath the pole of heaven, the winds, their prison broken, were troubling Neptune’s realm with a mighty blast; that evil Aeolus lay open and drew not tight the reins; nimble Eurus made a leap through sea and lands: see, it entangles the man, snatches him wholly on high — as when Zephyr quickly scatters the clouds from aloft; not otherwise is the falcon loosed with slackened reins — when it has seen its prey from the high crags, it flees, beats the clear sky behind with its wings, is scarce caught by the eyes, seizes the prey with its talons: so the high wind lifts the wretch and casts him down through the adverse strait of the sea, and set him afterwards on the shores and further, on the tops of the mountains. His body broken, breath scarce remained in his heart; his vitals disordered, sighs throbbed in his breast. “Alas for me now, wretched!” he said — he scarce uttered the words — “What madness was that, or what folly of mind? I could not withstand the Virgin’s holy words.”

§25. For another thing was to him a cause of great grief. His only care was a son, whom his parents loved overmuch as their right: when he was alone in the field beneath the burning sun, the little one slept. Alas, it was an evil sleep: vengeance had struck the father and spared not his bowels — that evil sea-vulture saw the boy at once, and hurled its darts at the little one, pierced him with greedy talons; he hung upon its clothing: it bore the wretch away to the crags of the shore. Why do I tarry? God Himself is present in power to His saints: He restored the boy to his father sound in body; the whole island is given; the priest rejoices greatly, scattered splendid joys through all the land; Brigid, the Virgin of God, proclaims the heralds of her voice, that publicly they should render a thousand thanks to Christ.

§26. There was once a seller whom a vain desire had driven to give the saint a stone wrapped in cloth: for the rock counterfeited the appearance of salt at hand; but God Himself, who knew the guilt of the wicked fraud, turned its nature into very salt. All the profit that evil man hoped to have by selling to the peoples he lost then, the rock being found out. He gave the stone — a fool with hardened breast — to the maidens: Christ formed it to the use of salt; now the rock is salt for the punishment of his crime. Brigid, God’s saint — wonderful to tell — turned all the hardness of the stone to the use of biting salt, and the rock afforded savour to the deed: from where priests, mothers, and the company of men rightly praise the maid’s innumerable virtues, and pay their vows alike to the Lord the Thunderer.

Chapter Four #

Comforts for the needy, the guilty and the sick #

§27. A poor man had turned aside even to the kind Virgin’s house — she cherishing him in his need and in his life’s time; he, bereft of all his goods and of his garments, addresses the saint, crying with this voice: “Brigid, saint of God, if it be lawful for you to succour me, restore my wretched limbs with drink, clothing and food.” Brigid the saint comforts the wretched man as he cries, with gentle words; she spoke with pity’s heart: “I will duly bestow on you with devout heart a garment: see, if you will lead out one cow, the best of the cows shall now be given you; and moreover you shall carry my mantle to keep.” The Virgin spoke these things. The poor man answered thus: “I cannot take your gifts with me now: I hasten naked to my country; dangers are on this side and that, the road is hard, robbers stand round on every side. Have you pity; you can — I adjure you by Christ’s name.” And she said: “I am willing”; the Virgin was smitten at heart. From her virgin body the saint drew off the thread wherewith the maid used to gird her body’s flanks: “Though the gifts be small — the girdle wherewith we ourselves are girded — we give you great things; Christ will bestow joys. Take now, brother, bear the pledge of our love: through me God has wrought great signs of virtues in these our borders of Kildare — every kind of disease wherewith the frail human race is now grievously held, or wherewith the origin of every form of evil creeps through it — this will be able to drive away a thousand cares; no wasting will be able to resist: though a thousand contagions creep through men’s bodies, it will everywhere lay them low; if limbs lose their vigour it will restore it, nor is there need to seek any healing art. That friend of mine who loved me has bestowed this: if I deigned to touch with my hands the limbs of one in pain, Christ bestowed rich help on the wretched; every evil fled, the laws of health reigned. In this wise — believe me — if you wash these threads of mine in the living waters, and give them to one on whom languor cleaves, I believe, with God’s favour, the strife of diseases will depart, the envious cause of ill, and all present pain will go away.” The saint of God spoke these things, weeping for love of the Virgin’s and of Christ’s pity; her inmost breast burned with the dew of awe, her heart within with the wound of love.

§28. Therefore the poor wretch, bearing not small gifts from God’s spouse, went on and gladly stretched his journey to his country; he lived many years afterwards; then he bestowed very many gifts of health upon the peoples: no harsh force of evil disease could harm — no ailment of the eyes or head, none of the ears, teeth or tongues, gums or straitened throats; neither choler nor fever hindered, nor wounds of the sword, nor black ulcers burning in the stinking limbs, nor phlegms, nor malignant blood breaking the bones. No languor, no force of disease could resist the aforementioned waters of the kind Virgin’s threads. Why do I linger? The thread washed away every ill when the poor man bore it home; it surpassed all in its healing power; and he was never poor in those times — he surpassed those greater by birth in his rich treasure; he heaps up riches, the spoils of many, and slaves; and he was rich in bronze while he lived many years: hence the Virgin’s fame was scattered through that land.

§29. At the season when the year is adorned with fair garments, when every field brings forth shining herbs with flowers, and the fruitful green tree is clothed with leaves, when swift rains are not sifted from the high clouds nor turbid rivers break the dry banks, but all things bloomed new in the summer season, and honeys descend from the liquid air, and white lilies are born with little roses in the meadows — at this time the Virgin, accompanied by holy maidens, mounted her chariot and is borne behind the backs of horses. The blessed Patrick once held a council, to which bishops went from many cities; with them that saint went with her maidens, at the time when the ruddy sun surveys the burning stars of the Twins and the confines of Cancer grow hot: heat is upon the lands, the fiery sun glows in the stars. While she was making her journey she saw the wretched going — the sightless, the crippled: those in the middle of the heat cried to her chariot all with weary voices: “O holy Virgin of God, have pity on our grief.” When that voice sounded in the holy Virgin’s ears — she heard, she stood, she stayed there pitying; she passed the night in watching and in much praying; and well, at new morn, as with night’s nectar she filled her palms with the sun’s rays, she washed the eyes of the blind, cherished the livid limbs of the lame with pure waters — see, health dripping from the Virgin’s hands, hostile to diseases: then light is restored to the blind men’s closed eyes, the lame men’s steps are repaired by the law of health; they leapt away, left their crutches and kept the road, abandoned the pairs they had been preparing to go before: the blind man himself sees, the lame was swifter than the east wind. They rejoiced alike; they took care to pay worthy thanks; they raised their eyes, their hands, their voices. To them she spoke these words of salvation with pious warnings.

§30. Hence she pursues her begun journey accompanied by her holy maidens; she directed the horses’ peaceful course. The sun turned his eyes, entered the black innermost chamber of night, shut the open behind his back, hid his shining head in its dyed wrappings; and from there sweet rest: afterwards sleep softer far oppressed the sisters, when they had gathered for themselves the tender grasses with the flowers, and began alike to coax their bright eyes; but Brigid keeps vigil through the night. They left off indeed, until the golden sun, risen, surveys the sky with its twelve rays and shows its ruddy face to all from heaven’s hinge. All arose together through the open ways. Hence again they went hastening with straight steps to the bank of a certain river named the Bann. One man by chance, not far from the river’s wave, the frightened maidens are said to have seen alone in the green meadow, whom they placed near the herds that he might spare the people; they mingled joys with weeping. Then she seized the journey begun with her holy maidens as was her custom; she, filled with God, went with many attending.

§31. There was a many-coloured vessel in the king’s hall: one wondered at the work, the glory of the men of old — many cups compacted together of seven metals: the glass shines golden with union of amber; the mingling of the cups lies hid, but that ductile thing scattered quivering lights with shining gems, and the flame of its brilliance beats the eyes of the beholder; for they were certain cups of ancient workmanship. With such goblets the kings of old adorned sweet feasts throughout the peoples, in the ancient manner — delightful indeed, but a very fragile form. It chanced one day, when the king was reclining on his purple, the servants run here and there while they set the dishes on the tables, while the boys duly replace every kind of drink — they set down together the vessel of wondrous form. There had come for the nonce a foolish commoner; admiring the work he was holding the cup by chance: it slips upon the table suddenly — fallen from on high, alas, it fell, and is broken, its fair gems scattered in fragments, and the napkins shine with tiny crusts: the table was sprinkled with the ruddy metals of the cups. The ministers were long much amazed at such a deed; the king was very glad, yet the breaking of the cup tormented him: he ordered the wretch — alas — to be bound shamefully about the neck with hard chains and, his hands bent back tightly behind him, thrust down into the depths of the dark prison until he should restore such a cast and fashioned vessel.

§32. A certain venerable bishop had come to the king both to plead and to ask in his causes; then he heard publicly of the loss of the broken cup and the wretched youth bound in prison for his fault. Moved by pity, he then wished to entreat the king to grant him this misdeed which the fool had done, freely for Christ’s name with kindly heart. The king said: “I will not spare — I swear by this right hand, believe me: this man who broke that precious cup, I will decree that he be afflicted with various torments — either to be gnawed by mad dogs, or fastened on forks, or the gallows-bird shall be delivered as food to the beasts, to be burnt in hot fires or subjected to the flames, or his head torn off and his body kept as food for the birds: let him either restore the cup or lose his life — let him not be ignorant, there is no doubt; frame me no more words.” The bishop answering again to this said: “Let it be your — at least if you leav me the fragments of the cup to carry to the cell, to be brought back to the holy maidens — this I ask.” And when he desired it, the king granted the fragments of the vessel; yet he is stricken thereby with grief of heart. Hastening, he turns the reins aside to the saint’s cell, recounting all that had happened in order to the virgins of Christ; he kept uttering long sighs. Brigid, God’s saint, shed tears… She said: “Alas, great is the suffering of flesh that is brought upon the wretch!” — she grieved utterly with a mother’s pity. And the bishop again, going over the order of events, spoke, and unfolded before the Virgin’s eyes the fragments of the aforementioned cup; she had scattered them and left them. She, clasping the thousand fragments of the cup in her dutiful hands — which the witless man had shattered from on high (for one part of the breaking had drawn away part of another) — set them as they had been, placed them, arranged them all, holding each one, joined one to one. Why do I tarry? From these sharp fragments she formed the cup; into the pontiff’s hands the vessel, rightly rounded, she duly delivered wrapped in purple cloth. The bishop goes to the king while he bears the cups in his hands — and the vessels are called seven from one cup: for seven cups rose from one stem. The king rendered a thousand thanks for the gift; the wretch is released, after his fault full grace is restored — and so, Christ present in the Virgin, who did such things, was shown to have been there the more.

[Note on the river Bann: it rises in Lough Neagh and runs northward; also the note on the Barrow below.]

Chapter Five #

Her power over beasts and trees; the efficacy of the sign of the Cross #

§33. Brigid, dear to God, most holy spouse of Christ, who left signs of virtues to the peoples — every swift kind that is born of wild beasts in the dark woods, or every thing that flies of the birds which Eurus sweeps aloft on wings through the liquid air — all came at her voice or nod; she handled them with pious hands when she wished, and they often gladly rendered her service. With a ready word she put to flight the madness of diseases.

§34. A woman once complained of a grievous pain of the belly — a cold dropsy possessed her languid vitals — bearing bowels full: the squalid humour swelled; alas, her womb held an evil birth; for her livid vitals greatly swelled with black venom; her voice alone sounded in her throat: “Alas, what shall I do? I can do nothing, being near to death; lo, the day is come — what avails it to live in torments?” She spoke, and fell at the saint’s feet, asserting with her mouth: “O blessed before ever your mother bore you, O holy Virgin of God, hear now with your ears the words of a wretched suppliant; cherish my numbed limbs. For I believe I shall receive by your prayers perfect health of my limbs, of body and soul, if you ever entreat Christ.” She spoke, and weeping stretched forth both her palms and rolled before the Virgin’s eyes with her whole body. Then the Virgin saw the wretch rolling her limbs in the dust, stretched on the spot, weeping with body transverse, having swelling pustules and the disease of the womb — her sad, calling often on Christ for herself, and holding her head at the saint’s feet and her garment — she saw, she grieved, she touched her, raised her with her right hand, lifts her up, and set upon her the sign of the holy Cross with her consecrated thumb, blessed her with words and anointed her. I speak marvels! Suddenly the woman obtained perfect health of her limbs: even as when the sun at its rising shows its ruddy face from heaven’s hinge at new morn, the black shadow of trembling night flees — as we have said — so all evil fled, the fountain of health being poured abroad; Christ’s grace dripped from the Virgin’s hands.

§35. Brigid, the Virgin of God, wrought very many miracles from the slightest causes: these she did in word and deed. At the season when the woods bear the fruit of the tree, when autumn laden brings forth the crops of the year, the field blooms with grain-ears and the vine with sweet grapes, hanging apples are seen on the tree’s branches — a certain woman had apple-trees and plums; for she was a useful tiller of her own garden. She, her basket hanging suddenly from her right hand, had come to the cell bearing ripe apples, and gave the fruit of her labour to God’s maidens. Brigid, God’s saint, at once bade the received apples be given to the poor, as she was often custom. When the aged woman heard such words sounded — she who had first freely brought the gift of apples — she grieved, confounded with exceeding grief of heart: for she thought herself made a thing despised by the saints. Impatient therefore she blazed into great wrath, bore off the rejected gifts, violently dragged them from those poor of Christ. The covetous woman did a shameful deed and spoke, hurling reproaches with swollen words: “When I was bearing you gifts of salvation, O Virgin of God, did you give them to others, who gave them in scorn?” Another woman brought apples with plums as a great gift; then the holy maid bestowed them on the poor, and promised her rewards for the deed: “At the present season flowering, and in the spring to come, this fruit-bearing tree of your shall bear you very many apples, and the tree shall never be barren but fertile.” So she spoke and dismissed the old woman glad at heart. That malign woman stood wicked, hardened in her stiff-necked crime — she who had withdrawn the apples from the wretched orphans. She said to the fool who had then carried off the gifts first given to the poor and left the needy sad: “Depart, fool, and are you not ashamed to be proud? In your orchard which you see full in the garden you shall find no apple hanging on the tree; nor shall the fruit be worthy to you for ever as it was.” To both befell what she who knew the truth had said.

§36. Not long after these things, Brigid again passed publicly along the crossroads in her chariot amid fields and crowds, hedged on every side with a great retinue, accompanied by her holy maidens. While the most holy Virgin was making her straight journey, a crowd on foot came to meet them — mothers with children, youths with ailing mothers, and weary fathers who could not set a step: for a heavier pack hung upon the wretches’ necks, and their laden bodies sweated with excessive heat. And when the charioteer carefully drew in the reins in that place lest any of the horses should hurt or tread upon the wretches, and then again urged the nimble horses to go straighter by turning — when the weary wretches saw the chariot they stood and cried aloud: “O too happy he who is borne on horses’ backs and could go forward now with such help of steeds!” They said these things alike; the holy maid was smitten at heart; filled with God, weeping with a murmuring voice she bade the horses with the chariot be halted at once on the road, and be given to the poor to carry and to bear them. Nor did the charioteer’s ready will fully accede; yet he is overcome by the maid’s great pity. The men receive the Virgin’s laden horses, the charioteer, the chariot, and the garments; the sisters and the brothers follow the various crowd of people.

§37. At a season when dry thirst had bound the summer fields, Brigid — nor was there a wave of the river for drinking — went forward beneath the burning sun with the company of sisters. There came to the saint one more prudent than the rest; she murmurs: “See, hunger; the crowd holds no drink, no fragments of food: what could it have in the fields? What shall we do?” she says; “or what would you say?” “With your staves in this very place,” said she, “go, dig the earth, men, and cast it a little: that shall be my fountain. My spouse is the author of the waters: the hard flint shall pour back rivers while the Lord cleanses the world. Was not a stream once struck from the point of the rod? With five loaves He sated many thousands. Christ has decreed that this place shall now have a fountain in the wilderness; it shall be —” she said “— a cold spring with rapid waters.” See, the liquid flows down, suddenly bursts forth into a stream: the people go and eagerly drank of the clear spring.

§38. There was a public highway; hard by it the saint was sitting — when lo! a count with a great retinue attending, both of foot and horse, and with a great host of the common sort, with chariots and with mettlesome unbroken steeds, had come, and asked the crowd sitting in the field. And when he knew the holy maid was sitting there, he drew up his chariot, hastened down to her, addresses her kindly and joins these words of greeting: “O holy Virgin of God, what does your coming now show forth in these borders? Where would you go? Here I see a chariot: where are your horses? Have you given them to poor widows, or perchance to lepers? Receive my better horses, holy Virgin: here I have young ones which no man has been able to put under the chariot-yoke — unbroken, strong and very proud. If they shall now be gentle to you, keep these always.” He spoke these words to her as she sat. “See, I thank God,” the holy maid answered, “for the free gift.” Then she bade the charioteer hold the horses’ bridles in his hand and show only a little. And when the charioteer bore the reins in his right hands — see, they gave a light leap — wonderful to tell — rejoicing, and the swift horses [stood still] from the field until the youth, with sparing hand holding their mild necks, might set them to bear and carry the yokes, and, placed beneath the chariot, they went more gently like lambs or humble sheep, nor moved their limbs. Moreover the people wonder at a running fountain from the torn turf: they drank of the liquid dew; he had brought with him various dishes of food; the crowd feasts together; fragments of the foods remain. A confused voice sounds; the crowd beat the air with praises; and the people left the place in peace.

§39. In the signs of another sun the moments run on — all moments and minutes being accomplished — the sun leaps on its heavenly path, begins the hour. Brigid the saint then stood with her maidens only; they prayed together, entreating Christ for themselves with their voice. There was a certain noble man infirm: for his vitals burned with a hot fever in his body; the sick man was rich — he had wealth he might lose: store of gold and silver, weights of many things, coverlets, goads, cattle and vast lands. What do all these joys of the present world profit the wretched, set upon the threshold of death? He, loving his own salvation, as the pain increased said to his servants: “Send such a cow — the better — to the virgins of Christ, to be kept always.” But the wretched servants were unwilling to lose her; she is sent — yet a mean one — and the figments of a malignant fraud shone clear. For on the following night the greatest power of Christ was wrought: a sign, and a great one, appeared to the perverse. See, suddenly seven evil wolves slew — for the crime of the fraud — the cow we spoke of before. (I speak marvels, while trembling I narrate these miracles!) At new morn, when the sun looked with its ruddy eyes upon the hollow places of the earth, the mountains, the estates, the woods — the fleeting shadow hid, the darkness is overcome by the light, the clear day arose — the herdsman revisits the herds, finds in the middle of the field seven huge bodies of the swift wolves suddenly stricken; in the morning he at once espied the same cow lifeless too by the beasts: he sees the cruel wounds which only the evil wolves had fixed, nor had they presumed to take the flesh: they surround the prey on every side, their livid jaws hanging with thrust-out teeth. This virtue is to be long remembered in those borders: the death of one of the Virgin’s cows was made the death of seven wolves.

Chapter Six #

The harvest preserved for the workers; dissidents reconciled #

§40. When a certain neighbouring cell, near to another’s — a noble one as is told, named with a glorious name — was at hand, built after the ancient manner, leaping in the robbers enter at night, seize the cattle found within and drive them often, or break through the walls and carry the farmer’s spoil on their shoulders, betaking themselves to the woods; the evil thieves did all they could, stealing together in the dark time of night: they turned aside to the bank of the river named the Liffey and wished to cross the ford of the scanty flood. But then the river swelled by the Virgin’s merit to the tall alders. They stood, and the pack hung on their wretched necks; the anxious care of the oxen gnawed the men’s hearts; but the men could not cross the ford on foot: along the further banks of the river they roam longer in the night hours; at length they took counsel too late: their bodies lie bare — all having drawn off their clothes, gathered together, they set the oxen’s spoil bound with a taut cord, spread upon the horns, and urged it into the river’s waves. Brigid, God’s saint, mindful of her promises to the maidens, perceived the loss of the house and stood present on the bank: she makes ready fine rivers against the oxen. At once the men themselves, when the beasts had followed behind them, in the middle of the waves — their arms stretched out, bare to the shoulders, hair down their backs; then through the waves themselves you might see the many swimming fleeces of the barbarians’ spoil — their backs cut, marked with black weals — they bore the weights on the horns and feet of the oxen. As the sea-wave is custom with its highest billows to raise the deep to the heavens, licks the shining stars — the whole earth trembles, about to fall in sudden ruins when it rushes and the wind snatched into the foaming rivers covers the wide shores, scatters the places, the marble, the timbers — not otherwise do those herds rush upon the very robbers, make for the first shores, leave the rebels behind their backs, carry their garments and came close: at last the thieves, their breasts bared, weary over mountains, valleys, woods and fields. Even as the archer-hunter with his mad hounds follows the stag’s traces in the high glades — it slips away and outstrips the light breezes in its course; there is no delay nor rest until it hides itself in the high glades, nor is it taken by hounds or any nets — not otherwise therefore did the oxen put the robbers behind them, spoiled of their clothes and arms, seeking shelter where a great people stood — the ignoble crowd — keeping the solemn rites at the Virgin’s cell. The kindly day had come; Phoebus had already wiped away night’s shadows, saw such things from the pole of heaven, laughed to see the oxen run in the morning and the naked robbers, and all the spoil returned at once to the farmers.

§41. When a certain girl from the neighbouring parts had come to the saint on like reasoning — for she wished to hold the sweet words of her mistress with attentive ears and with like heart; that girl greatly loved the sisters — she said: “Would that I might stay with you this night!” She had left her own house with no guards, the cows and calves scattered wandering through the fields — save the wretched old man whom an old disease had bent to his bed, and a graver and longer old age, so that it was not lawful for him to watch the house, nor was there any care for the cattle. The saint said: “God protecting you, girl, you can duly stay this night; fear not now to lose anything of your goods: Christ guards your roofs.” She stayed. On the next day she went again to visit the house. O memorable power of God! O great might! There was no night there: the sun’s presence ever — a long day of twice ten and four hours. That girl found the old man sitting alone then in the house, the calves with the cows gladly feeding together in the field; nor had the calves yet sucked — they forgot to seek the taste of their mothers’ milk for a great space of time — wonderful to tell! It was a dark night while the girl stayed; bright day was felt by the calves in the shining sun.

§42. It chanced one day that Brigid, God’s saint, was going for needful causes accompanied by many maidens; a very great crowd of both sexes followed, and the lepers came together, exceeding proud, all of whom she cherished with a mother’s pity. Anger moved two lepers of perverse mind; they quarrelled likewise with all their strength, stretched forth their hands, plucked out each other’s hair; and as the first raised his right hand he struck the other as he went — the other, nimble, turning returned the blow the better; they contend stoutly on both sides with thrust-out arms, to batter each other’s faces with hard fists. When she saw it, she checked them with pious words. I speak marvels! The first who had struck his brother before could not stretch forth his bent right hand again; the other no less quickly raised his right hand to heaven, that he might return such a blow stoutly if he could — yet he could not smite his brother as he wished: that hand stretched to the stars grew stiff; he could by no art bend back the suspended right hand. The hands of the lepers grew rigid, they could do nothing, until the Virgin of God succoured the two. She said: “O wretched brothers, you are bought with the price of Christ’s precious blood — lay aside the quarrel, repent the ill you have just wrought: it offends Christ too much; take up again holy peace.” They promised alike to commit no more fault; the right hands are loosed, their members return to health; reconciled again, they follow the saint going and render great thanks to Christ for the gift.

§43. A neighbouring cell had been built in those borders for holy virgins who were near of kin, adorned with worthy manners and chaste in body. The sisters came together with devout mind, beseeching the saint earnestly with earnest prayers to deign to come and bless their house and whatever they had in that dwelling. Christ’s Virgin graciously consented to the maids; she mounted the chariot, is borne through the broad crossroads. A certain man came hastening to meet them; he said: “Have peace now; hail, maidens! I am a messenger; I announce to you the truth, that your uncle lies sick now,” he says; “the last times of his life have now utterly come. Send your chariot — for he will come — and the horses.” They excuse themselves, saying they had none ready. “Take up, carry my chariot,” answered Brigid. From there the chariot is sent to the needy man, as she said. He is brought to the spot who had been ready for his fate; the sick man is gently set down on the grassy turf. Then the lepers came, heavy with a goatskin cloak, and with reprobate voice beat upon the Virgin’s ears, asking for the chariot — complaining — and for the chariot’s horses. The maidens’ speech was contrary to them: “If the chariot be given you, wherewith can we bear the sick man home?” the sad maidens said. The lepers answered alike with a great shout: “We will go ungrateful; we seek nothing of yours ever.” O work of pity! So great and wondrous a will! The Virgin’s heart burned with Christ’s love, her breast with love: she granted the greedy lepers the chariot to keep, and bestows on them the horses with devout mind. I speak marvels: at once the sick man whom we have foretold is healed; he feels nothing of disease nor of pain; he cries aloud the praises of Christ with exceeding lauds: “O high God, King of kings, highest power, high-throned Founder of earth, sea, air and fire — let the angelic people and the crowd of men and of beasts alike praise You; we sing to You praises, we worship You.” So he spoke, and followed the maidens then on foot.

§44. In those times a certain man, whom his wife hated, had come to the saint and sought the holy water: the holy Virgin bestows the sanctified water. The foolish woman, cruel, despised her husband, hated him overmuch, and refuses the partnership of the house; for noxious squeamishness troubles the wretch’s mind. Then he sent in haste a priest to sprinkle the liquid waters which the holy Virgin had first blessed with her own mouth; then, the husband being present, he sprinkled them on the house, the beds, the doors and the tables of food; and afterwards the priest himself came to the house. For the woman afterwards loved her husband with exceeding love — at no times did she leave him. By chance the husband arose before day and had crossed the neighbouring strait in boats, alone, driven by love of the salt, and labours in the salt waves. But that wife remained at home, weighed down with sleep; she knew not where or when her husband had gone. She rose suddenly: the woman runs round the house, the neighbouring places, the villages, the broad crossroads; she tracked his footprints going even to the sea-shores. When she lifts her head and eyes, the foolish woman saw her husband far away, standing alone upon the shore. The hot shallows of the sea, with the south winds blowing — the waves of the river’s waters and upon the high mountains — raised together curling lashes of foam; they sit upon the upper banks, merge the marble, confound the air, touch the shining stars. The fire of love was violent — it tears the wife’s little breast, and madness twisted her mind: more and more the poison glides through her bowels. If a man had not at once been at hand in the boats to lift the snatched woman from the waves and seize the wretch sinking into the deep with his hands, she would have gone straight on amid the waves to perish. So strong was the love of the two with peace: the sweet affection of wife and husband remained always even to the day of death — wonderful to tell! This virtue is reported as known to many peoples: by the Virgin’s merit Christ confirmed their love.

Chapter Seven #

Her lavishness poured out upon the needy, divinely rewarded; the chariot preserved on the journey #

§45. In those times a great crowd with murmuring approached, desiring to keep the solemn rites of the saints’ feast. And then Brigid, God’s saint, chanced to see the needy of gifts coming; she said to her own, pitying with love of mercy: “If I could, I would now wish to feed these crowds: they have come from far borders to seek food. Go then, my boys, and you, maidens — prepare food: let us feed these with loaves.” Their whole provision was a store of barley for the maids. Why should I relate the rest? The ministers, with devout mind, set dishes enough before the various crowds. All were sated with the things set before them — the ignoble crowd, mothers with children, youths with ailing fathers — they stretch their palms to the stars with exceeding praises.

§46. The malignant servants began to blaspheme this deed of the Virgin the more, and the maidens were sad. Brigid at once fled to the wonted temple; there she herself was entreating God with devout heart. A certain noble commoner had come to the king with wagons; he, slow, laden, went along the straight road and was accomplishing the journey undertaken with foreknowledge before, and was bearing many goods to the king’s hall, bringing a banquet to be had at the saints’ feast — the commoner was wandering with his wagon in his own fields. See, beneath the star-bearing summit of gathered heaven night rushes down and wraps the earth with clouds; a thick mist surrounds the oxen, coming down from the high mountains, and involves the men alike travelling through the country — for the broad way through the fields was known to the servants, but the dark mist struck the men blind until they came to the very house where the saint lived. The Virgin went forth at once to meet the men: for she was conscious of the power; she drew forth sweet words for the boys. The commoner answering said: “All these gifts God has sent you, Virgin: take them, receiving our little gifts with pious heart. For I had resolved to go to the king with our wagons and to send a banquet worthy of our lord; but God amid these fields turned aside our oxen to your cloister. Such is now our will: we can repay the king double if he asks. Let Him take all ours together if He wills to take these: these shall ever be your — only give your blessing,” he said. He had sent men to tell the king the causes in the aforementioned order. The king is amazed at such signs. The greatest hero at once sent gifts — the magnificent villa where that king then lived, and whatever had formerly been the royal gifts — all the king then granted to the virgins of Christ to hold for ever. That good commoner whom we foretold was handed over to the saint with all his kindred; after these things he served the holy maidens without fraud.

§47. A time after, again not long, a certain queen had come from those borders to Brigid and asked her, groaning, for her sins to be duly expiated; and she offered with devout mind a fair chain, on whose top was formed the figure of a human head: the subtle image gleams precious with silver threads, and a little sphere wrought with hooks shines resplendent with tawny gems in alternation. This exceeding ornament of art the queen offered to the maidens; they snatch it up, rightly placing it among the treasures lest Brigid should secretly hand it to the poor: for she was custom often to scatter to the wretched such wealth as she could, and the grasping servants feared this loss. It chanced one day that lepers with raucous voice, seeking alike garments, food and provisions wherewith they might defend their needy life, came and complaining beat upon the Virgin’s ears. The saint comforts them to silence with pious words; but more and more they all cried aloud. Then the kind Virgin checked the wretched proud ones: for at once she searched the little coffers which the maidens then had, in which they kept in the boxes whatever was given; there she found a very precious chain, hastening she took it away in her hands, and secretly handed it to the poor of Christ to keep. After the aforementioned chain had been given to the wretched, it was not found in the treasures; from there the sisters grieved overmuch and said to their holy mistress: “Why do we labour? Why do we thus serve in vain? You weari us with our own hands’ exceeding sweat, O Virgin — you squander all ours on the wicked lepers. Is then your care for the poor alone? have you any for us?” The saint comforts the sisters with pious words: “Leave off now the foolish shafts of words; ever keep good peace; let patience reign among us. Go, see the place where we are accustomed to pray, to pour forth prayers often to Christ and the saints before God’s altar; perchance reclining I left it: seek — perchance it lies there; let your reproaches cease.” She spoke. But a certain one testifies with her voice that she saw the maid handing the chain to the wretched. When the sisters’ care in searching was at its height, one more learned than the rest — this maid, swifter than the girls — first entered the open temple. O virtue too memorable, shown forth, shone! She found the gleaming silver chain lying on the earth before the altar, rejoicing — like the former in form, gems and art.

§48. A certain holy man had come to the saint from the neighbouring people, called by his own name Conlaid (Gellan). He wished to see the worthy holy maid; he is borne in a chariot, a boy attending. All the sisters received the patron with devout mind; they first minister to him hospitality, a warm bath as was their custom, dwellings prepared with feasts, seats and fires. After they duly refreshed their bodies with choice food, Brigid, God’s saint, led in by timid maidens, pays the debts of mercy to the guests of Christ; they draw forth sweet words from a peaceable breast. And after that glad day had stayed with the Virgin for a few days, and he had taught them all with heavenly words and planted worthy seeds of the everlasting life — that the harvest might afterwards grow for Christ — the patron wished to return to his own cell; he bade his wagon be duly prepared, charged the boy to join the horses’ necks beneath the yokes. But the foolish boy — alas — had neglected to fasten the chariot with its linchpin and had utterly forgotten to put the wheel on the axle; the cause of the peril is unknown. And the elder and the holy maidens come forth; the elder mounts the chariot: “Give a blessing,” he said, “now bless this ours, and stretch forth your holy right hand.” Brigid, God’s saint, full of the heart of pity, then blessed them and added the sign of the Cross to them. There was only an axle, and the chariot went off without a linchpin; yet the wheel did not then fall through the fields, Christ guarding it. O manifest power of God! O great might! O blessed hand of the maid, wondrous in signs! At the hearing of such things the soul kindles with loving; the inner intention of our heart is fed on the sweet words, wellnigh tends on high in flight, escapes to the heavenly ones — earthly things grow sordid to the sight — while I now announce these deeds of the holy Virgin.

§49. This very virtue, like to the former, edifies no less: if I could tell it, I would. When time had passed, the care of pity stung her: Brigid, God’s saint, resolved to visit a certain virgin’s dwelling; accompanied by few maids she mounted the chariot, makes for the straight track; she came even to the place where a certain holy virgin lived, and is joyfully received by the worthy maids: the Virgin’s coming was an exultation to all, for she bestowed very many joys on many peoples. White lilies are scattered in the comely dwellings, little roses are mingled with violets and with white flowers; they prepare delights and set sweet cups. But she first spoke the teachings of the saints; she reforms their arid hearts enough with heavenly dew. After the worthy rest had been ended for the maidens, the sweet space of a few days having passed, she bade her wagon be duly prepared — for the saint wished to return to her own cell. The charioteer and the maidens mounted the chariot together. When they wished to pass through the open places to the cell, Brigid, God’s saint, by the flame of the ray from above, said to the charioteer: “Utter the holy word; say now the Lord Christ to our ears; then may it please you to turn your face to us; [loose] your tightened reins — the horses will run duly.” […] [The chariot went, and in the open country the horses were loosed: none drove them.] All wondered when they saw such deeds, and cried aloud. The horse, feeding, perceived the noise and sounds of the crowd, gave a leap, went swiftly; there is no delay nor rest — it outstrips even the winds: it follows after the chariot until it put itself beneath it. No man then compelled the horse to submit its neck to the pole. God’s highest right hand held the chariot through the crossways, nor did the chariot fall; for it is borne without a horse by the Virgin’s merit: Christ deigned to sustain the chariot with His hand above the air — O great might!

[Notes: a) Colgan confesses that in the MS. it was “Gellanus”; in the First Life, ch. 7 n. 47, he is called Coelianus — see what is noted there. b) This seems to be the Birgus, commonly called the Barrow: rising in Queen’s County, swollen by other rivers, it falls into the Vergivian sea below Waterford on the borders of Munster and Leinster. In Colgan’s notes on the First Life of St Patrick it is said that St Fiec of Sletty ended the most holy course of his life in his city of Sletty beside the river Berba in the plain of Albe — words which Colgan testifies are cited from the old Life of St Patrick, not yet edited, on the testimony of Waraeus, adding that the place is in Queen’s County.]

Chapter Eight #

Pity for the needy, things foreknown, punished disobedience, divinely obtained provision #

§50. If I wished to tell of the lepers and the various bodily diseases — those crippled in their feet, blinded of their eyes without light — whom the holy Virgin of God healed: they exceed all count; time flies; another tongue [is needed]. There was a certain leper in the Virgin’s dwellings, of hostile manners, greedy, vain with murmuring: whatever the evil man could see, he wished to have; he burns with avarice and blind greed of things. “Give me the choicest of the cows, give me of the calves; give me a guide who may now lead the cow with the calf through the crossroads — for alone I cannot drive them” — he said; “I wish to have her kept for the use of her milk.” Brigid, God’s saint, answered with serene heart: “Do you wish both clothing here with me and food for the body? And I am willing to give the cow: if it be your will, take her, depart now — peace be with you, dear friend.” A certain one had cooked there the food of flesh for the orphans; she had bidden the man help the wretched leper; and when she had given them a cow of better form in the field — nor was the calf with it, he refused her: he sought to have the calf of another cow. “Give me this,” he said, “since she is greater in body than the others; if not, see, these are your oxen — keep them ever.” By the Virgin’s merit, as is told — wonderful to tell — the cow sought the calf of the other, loved it. When the leper was then going with the Virgin’s messenger, the cow likewise bore the calf in the chariot; the cow follows the chariot’s tracks ready, runs through mountains, valleys, woods and rivers, burns with excessive love of the calf — she forgetful of her own. Nor could the men have gone this space in two or three days; the leper’s cow then did it: the one hour did not outlast the journey. Then the man returning who had cooked the foods before — though he had cooked the foods with fires — the other cow, utterly forgetful of her own calf, began to love the one which the leper’s cow had left. O memorable power, this great thing to all! How great the virtue seems in small causes!

§51. At the time when the holy blessed Patrick was dying — who had well taught the people in the holy doctrine of Christ, and, the years of his life more fully accomplished, finished his course and sought the realms of heaven; who had once sown the seeds of life for the Irish people, cleansing their hearts in the star-born baptism — Brigid the saint knew by the divine will the day on which that father would die. The Virgin said to her maidens: “See, grief, mourning — sad things now hold all our hearts: the loss of the people’s salvation — in the western borders the light is overcome by darkness; by the bishop’s death the lamp of the Irish fails. We therefore, weeping the funeral of our father, let us bear the last gifts of a devout mind: I wish to wrap the father’s body in a clean linen cloth which with my own hands I wove and made a shroud.” Weeping she spoke these things, and orders the chariot to be prepared, and bade the boys, the servants and chosen maids go to prepare the things which have been told you.

§52. When nothing else was at hand, she bade her own — for love of pity — take the flesh of swine on a certain night. Two foolish girls despised their mistress’s precepts; they placed the swine’s flesh in the bosom of a tree. Brigid in the new morning, chiding the maids for this, said: “You have done ill to hide the flesh: go, see now.” When the maids had gone then, they saw beneath the leaves two great serpents: they raise their pictured breasts, their mouths with curling tongues, their swelling necks with scaly breast shining. At this the maids feared and cast themselves at the Virgin’s feet, and are said to have cried out, bent with earnest prayers, that she would forgive their fault. That most holy Virgin began to entreat her spouse to change the serpents’ figure into the form of bread, or whatever food He Himself might will. And afterwards the holy Virgin of God signed the dragons: I speak marvels — the saint turned the swollen vipers into forms of bread, alike in colour to the two. They saw then with the mind the serpents made loaves that had been offered; from there the frightened maids wondered greatly and wonder alike, beating their breasts with their palms. These bright loaves, then, the priest carried with him from the oak-tree to be kept, to be taken at the Lord’s Pasch, or these gifts of Christ at the feasts, for God’s servants and the holy maids.

§53. After this power, hastening through the crossroads, the holy Virgin of God arose and went with the chariots until she had come to the high city where Patrick then was; where there was a mighty lamentation among the people for the bishop’s death. Christ, through the kind Virgin’s tears, wrought this great and wondrous sign: the bishop rose again, lived again from death. Hence grief, hence mourning ceases; joys arise, a concourse of people in the city from various parts, and great exultation for the virgin choir. Brigid, God’s saint, went before more slowly, and says: “O kindly father, instruct us all in your words; reform our arid hearts with the dew of your teaching, and scatter the lessons of the present and the future life. See, I have brought the gifts of our service — an ephod which we wove for you with our own hands. You, holy father, told me to weave such a thing that your body might be wrapped in the clean shroud. Look upon the shepherd’s sheep; receive the servants as they come: see, we have come with devoted boys and maids.” And the father answered more slowly, saying: “Peace to you, Virgin of God.” After this, what the two said to each other more secretly, or what their words were, I know not: His God knows. Alas — Patrick migrates back, seeking the realms above, and the aforementioned saint returned.

§54. It was the Virgin’s custom, for Christ’s love, always to hand food to the poor or whatever she had; she wished to serve all guests more than was her ready faculty of giving. It chanced one day that the saint was standing with her holy maids in the praises of Christ, as she used to stand: see, priests came by a long road with wretched, weary and muddy boys; they sought the dues of hospitality to be paid them — to cherish their weary bodies with food, drink and fires. When the holy Virgin of God saw the saints had come, “Go,” she said, “prepare food; let so great a guest be treated.” One sister answering more gently said: “Tell us what or how much we ought to give: but in our houses there is no portion of food which a man could give — we have given; nothing has remained.” “Nor can you doubt, sister: for Christ gives, has given and will give all things — so ought all to believe. Let the pantry be swept with brooms and shut.” She spoke; and again after a small space of time: “Run well now, sister, give food now to him that asks,” she said. The house is opened; whatever you shall find within, delay not to hand to the poor — Christ being the guest. Now those who came and the sisters rejoice alike. Why do I tarry in words? Manifest power shone forth: a store of so great foods was found. Christ gave dishes to the virgins and to the pilgrims; all the neighbours round about were called, and the unperceiving crowd of boys placed there. A noble and great banquet of flesh is prepared. The food lasted even for seven continuous days; nor was it then known to the peoples, but only a sign to the ministers — afterwards manifest to all. By the Virgin’s merit He rained this manna: from there the one voice of the crowd praising the Lord resounded.

§55. The holy Virgin turned over the life of the earlier saints, seeking the secret places of the wilderness in mountains and woods to equal them: she was seeking springs of water. While the saint was making her journey with the holy maids she came even to a place which was full of sweet springs and herbs, where she then lived; and the sick, the blind, the lame and the lepers she healed utterly by Christ’s power. A crowd of peoples in numbers had come; the flame could not be hidden beneath the shadows, but shone for all beneath the sun’s clear light. And when the Virgin lived there with the holy maids, in nights of psalms and hymns and in whole days the tender maidens endured unconquered in mind. At evening they sought river-herbs from the springs, wherewith the ancient saints used to live; they took cold cups with the curling herbs. But the kind of herbs was not found in those liquid springs. Hence a trouble of mind began to resound in the dwellings with no small murmuring of the sisters. Brigid, God’s saint, when she had heard such words sound, took care to pass the sleepless night in prayers, weeping — her spouse Christ Jesus Himself wiped her eyes: a fountain — wonderful to tell — at new morn He at once filled with the desired herbs. Then they had enough herbs curling in the river which these complaining maids had sought before in the spring. By the Virgin’s merits this manifest power shone forth: the peoples wonder, and the glad sisters rejoice.

Chapter Nine #

Raptures, slaughter prevented, miraculous crossing of rivers, temptation lulled #

§56. On a certain night the saint commanded her maids to stand firm in prayers with devout mind. She herself, filled with God, intent on the supreme secret — and when long with silent words and straining ears the saint was raising her eyes to the stars in the temple — see, “Hold your peace now,” she said. “Who can see the wonders of Christ? Do we not ourselves see? Now I see the broad hollow places of heaven, earth, sea and high air, and the penetrable space above is full of boys clothed in white garments: in the middle is Christ, King of kings, highest power; and holding palms in their hands they utter songs: “O holy Lord, holy, holy Lord of Sabaoth, from Your high seats glory to the Begotten and to the Begetter”; the heavenly organs resound with sweet-toned song. The boys singing this alike, and the elders, the angelic peoples answer ‘Alleluia.’ The vision greatly soothes my inmost mind: I know not the song in which the heavenly people rejoices.”

§57–58. When the sun at new morn lifted the saffron mantle from his breast and the ruddy face from night’s threshold, and saw with clear eyes the hollows of the lands, nor did night’s cloudy image remain on the earth — it was clear day — the venerable bishop Ibar, a holy man, had come to her cell kindly to say the solemn Masses for all the people. She had stayed in her father’s house, her parent compelling — a custom ever contrary to the virgins of Christ: for all eagerly shun the mockeries of the crowd. Yet she consented and fulfilled her parents’ bidding. When at mid-night heavy sleep rushed upon her limbs, an angel stood by the maid as she lay at night and touched her at once, and said twice and thrice: “Arise! A proud crowd, ready with cruel mind, having no pity, comes now with many weapons. Arise — for they hasten to slay your father and whatever men they can overcome in war. For your God Himself wills not to bring you grief. Go at once — the enemy comes: these dwellings shall be given to the fires, they shall burn; nothing of yours is touched by the fire: and if anyone wishes to join garments to your garments, they are saved alike, nor can the flames burn them.” The angel said these things again: “Alas, arise, maid; go out, take away delays, leave none of your here — your father, nor the servants, nor those whom the house now holds; run through the woods, or where the shade may protect you.” The sad maid arose, mindful of these words, and weeping told her father; there is lamentation in the hall; the cry goes to heaven; they flee and leave everything. Scarce could the men flying pass the walls; the hostile folk had already rushed round every place. Entering, they find no men within — they only saw the consecrated garments. The evil ones began to consume all the dwellings alike with ruddy flames, and are found to burn together. But because the sacred maids had before joined the garments of the servants and of the parents to their own sacred things, neither the enemy’s rage nor the flame could harm them: seeing all the things of the priests they thought them such. After the men left the dwellings burnt with flames, they could give over none in the dwellings to death. Then the father rendered thanks to his daughter for the gift.

§59. In those times the king of that nation had bound one man in chains and afflicted him; he then asks the Virgin’s help, that he might go free. The ark of orphans, the faithful patroness of the wretched — Brigid, God’s saint — went as a suppliant to the king’s hall for the wretch. When the king had heard she was at hand before the doors, he bade her come beneath the roof. As soon as she… in the hall [the king said: “You ask lesser things, and leave things that are good; but believe me, God will grant you all things you ask: the Ruler of Olympus bestows on you to win very many wars; you shall be victor, nor conquered by any earthly foes; in battles you shall overcome wicked nations, and shall rule your realms, illustrious in triumphs of war.”]

§60. Her own brother, hearing the saint speaking such words, said then with groaning heart: “O would that this promise of the kind Virgin might be for me! I would lend my ears, I would be the Virgin’s servant, and I would wish to be bathed in the water of holy baptism if I were worthy of such a gift of Christ.” Brigid, God’s saint, answering slowly said: “This great power shall grant to you believing — long times, and with this kingdom the life to come; and your progeny after you shall hold your realm until the end of time shall come.” All things which the Virgin of God said came to pass.

§61. Brigid, God’s saint, when she was alone in her chamber, saw Rome far away away with her eyes: she is said then also to have seen the apostle’s sepulchre; she stood before the altar and heard Mass at it: she was not in body, but discerns with the mind’s light. The holy office pleased her to keep always. From where she sent priests to the city of Rome to bring back new sacred things — and whatever she had heard there, desiring to hand it down to the virgins by a lasting rule. The pope sent Brigid composed books and chant and many gifts; he granted them to keep. She handed them to her own, turned them to the use of learning. In those times we read there were twice six supreme pontiffs of Rome while the maid lived.

§62. Great is God’s power — a thing that seems small is done. There was a certain poor woman then burnt with fevers, and the cause of her pain grew more and more until now the term of her last day had come. Brigid, God’s saint, foretold to the maids: “This woman is now about to die; wash her clothes, sisters.” There was wind then; a turbid shower came down. The tender maids excused themselves — they feared the cold. I speak marvels: they saw the old woman’s clothes go forth — all that there were — and no one had carried them; and again they saw them alike washed in the waters and brought back. The holy maids feared. The Virgin was conscious of the power, she saw the deed. This wondrous sign unknown to the peoples, we affirm, was wrought by angelic hands — nor do we doubt.

§63. Another virtue seems to me greatly to be wondered at, which was on the great wave of the river Shannon, within which is Celltra — an assembly, duly gathered, of prudent men, flowering in the holy teaching of Benedict. She had come there with her holy maids, the only hope of the wretched, the care of the sick’s health. While she was at hand, the brothers flow here, the sisters there; they all gathered to cross the stream in boats. Alas, the wretched maids then came late; they cried from the river’s bank with voices beyond. The wave of the Shannon’s flood was very turbid with assiduous rains, impassable to all without a boat. By chance then a laden ship was crossing with many; the youths ran, leapt, and said this alike to the maids: “Hear us now, sisters; lift now your mantles, commit them to us, that we may carry you all in our ships.” The youths mocked the maids enough from the stern; they strike them with unlawful words and leave them on the shore. Brigid, God’s saint, cried to the sisters standing on the land: “Take courage, you fearful,” she said; “come from there now — see me standing on the bank — and fear no ill: Christ is watching on the river; Christ was the people’s haven and guide upon the waves.”

§64. She saw a man bent on the river’s shore; she hoped inwardly that this was a cause of weight. The saint had come with her maids; she herself wished to lift the burden if he had one. She said to the wretch having a bent body: “Tell me, brother, what cause of ill has bowed you? If you have a heavy weight, give it us; we take it up: then you can proceed better with body straightened.” “No weights bend the limbs of my body,” he said, “but an old pain has pressed down my shoulders.” “If you are wretched in flesh,” the holy maid then said, “Christ has given the waters which purge in the healthful fount. Now go down, I pray, and wash your body in the waters of this river; for the Lord will bestow health on you.” Why do I tarry? Intrepid he went down into the stream’s waves and washed himself in the waters, and his body — the maid praying — at once from there began to renew its lively vigour — he who before had been a hunchback for many years. The Virgin knew the man: he now comes healed to her; a suppliant with prayers he blessed Christ, and went away.

§65. In those times there was a scarcity of bread, and the worst famine straitened many peoples. Brigid sent her maids to seek her grains of grain, or whatever God Himself had given. They went even to the house of a certain rich nobleman; he gave the boys sacks full of fine flour, and at last dismissed the Virgin’s handmaids laden. And when returning they had chanced to come again, they could not cross on their own feet through the stream: there was no raft by which they could go through the waves. Sadly they set down their weights in that very place, fell on their faces, and praying to the Lord, by the Virgin’s merit they all cried with their voices: “Brigid, saint of God, succour us wretches.” I speak marvels: suddenly they are borne a long way across with their sacks — none of the sisters felt it. When by chance they lifted head and eyes from the ground, then they saw the river full utterly behind their backs.

§66. Brigid once loved a certain holy maid. She was fairer in form than all the sisters: a virgin in body, yet she remained corrupt in mind; for she loved a youth, comely, with a great love of the flesh — overmuch — and, keeping the secret in her heart, was ever custom to sleep with the holy virgin. The woman had passed a sleepless night in pondering; at last she rose — wicked pleasure overcame her; with love’s heavy fire she burned in the maid’s heart. Then she says: “O Begetter, kindly Son of the Begetter, You my salvation, O Christ, stretch forth Your hand to me as I totter; inspire now Your counsels, destroy my foolish ones: let virginity reign, let wicked desire depart.” Christ heard the wretch praying in the night; He gave her counsel and confirms her mind in virginity. Then she set her tender feet upon the coals of fire and entreats Christ with silent words in her breast. Soon the wretched maid’s feet burned upon the fire: the wicked love went on; the heart’s pain gnawed her inmost parts; she scarce dragged her feeble body to the bed with her hands. The saint perceived it, held her peace, permitting all things. Then she says to the wretched maid, strengthening her: “O blessed one, you have bravely overcome the evil foe, quenching hell’s flames with these fires. Nor shall any temptation of the flesh be your after this: you lie burnt by fires — wicked pleasure is now conquered; you have likewise overcome hell’s penalties. And this very pain of your feet shall depart; no wounds of your soles shall remain — believe me, little maid.” From there followed full health of the maid’s limbs: by the Virgin’s merit Christ touched her with healing.

[Notes: a) Some things are wanting here. b) The kings of whom mention is here made, Colgan thinks to have been Illand and Ailill, sons of Dunlong: Illand succeeded his brother, and to him came a long line of descendants propagated beyond five hundred, of whom he counts fifty in all — and this was the effect of the most holy Virgin’s prayer. c) For indeed, until Hormisdas — in whose time St Brigid died — from Sixtus III, under whom at latest, or rather under St Leo, she was born, there were only nine pontiffs. Perhaps the author believed she was born and died later; for between Hormisdas and Vigilius six sat in the space of ninety years. d) To the First Life ch. 15 n. 94, note e, we have said that Sinnam, Sinann, Sinonnam, Senum, Shannon are spoken of.]

Chapter Ten #

Future things shown in sleep #

§67. It chanced one day that the holy blessed Patrick, gem of priests, sat in a synodal assembly: he had spoken very many words of God, the teachings of the holy fathers, and was strengthening the people in the law of salvation — that the Lord’s harvest, received in hundredfold fruit, might grow better, needing to be sprinkled with the dew from above. Brigid, the Virgin of God, the saint with her weary maidens, had come to the synod of the saints, called by right to pay her vows to God, to obey the holy patrons. While she was sitting there, a light sleep touched her limbs; scarce had the Virgin closed her eyes a little, when she told the saints the mystic dreams she saw: “I thought I stood alone in flowery meadows; I looked back upon a people coming from the sun’s rising: it was a white crowd, it bloomed in white garments; it was turning the earth with four ploughs, and with those white oxen it cast the seeds into the furrows: then white rivers of milk filled the furrows: I saw seed suddenly grow from the seed. And when I had long seen such signs to be wondered at, I saw peoples from the quarter of the seven Triones, coming with black oxen, with dark faces; they kept breaking the fields with dark ears of grain; they began to scatter, they turned the earth, they confound the earlier sowings with a crosswise ploughshare; with black seeds they filled the earth. The first vision well soothes my mind: alas! the latter ill disturbs all the former.”

§68. She had spoken to the elder. The saint consults her more gently, turning all things over with pious words: “You now, Virgin of God, the vision of things troubles — the order disordered, and the sowers themselves various, with white or black oxen, which cast seeds into the furrows — a doubtful figure, and what all things signify. Yet in few words, if I can unfold these things, I will now tell you, daughter: the first vision designates our times now — that we now till the hearts of men with the ploughshare of the word, casting the seeds of the doctrine of the Gospels; hence four harvests shall be seen to grow with a hundredfold fruit of holy souls in the blessed field, and shall fill Christ’s barns with angelic peoples. Alas for grief! Evil times of the world will come after us: then the heavenly cups of the word shall be taken from the sheep; greedy shepherds, who shall follow their own gains the more, shall take care to put not wheat enough but tares into the furrows: then Christ shall bestow on us the joys of life.” Afterwards the bishop said: “Peace to you, Virgin.”

§69. In those times, while she remained with the holy everlasting father in body, believing well with pious heart, Brigid, God’s saint, had drunk in the teachings of the saints — the nectar of the divine word, coming down from the stars above, from the heavenly fount — and drank it with great sweetness of things: she slept; she saw dreams. That Spirit who makes secret things disclosed, who makes clear the dark and renders the solid penetrable, Himself filled the Virgin’s breast enough by pouring in her heart. She by night in vision saw two great stones lifted up on a mountain, and I thought they stood in the sight of St Patrick: a light dew came down from aloft upon them, and when the rain had long poured with trembling drops — whereby one of them [grew hard, made harder, and] the lesser, diminishing from the least pebbles, until rightly reduced little by little to nothing — but the other stone was softened by the dew from above, grew exceedingly, occupied the wide places round, and more and more mounted the high hills: she saw on the stone’s highest summit resplendent lamps which light the heavens above with their light. It was a great vision, and suddenly troubled the holy Virgin’s trembling mind as she saw: she was amazed to see the different fate of the stones.

§70. At new morn, when the sun had scattered the black shadows, nothing on earth was hidden by night’s covering, all the maids arose with the clear light: Brigid hastening to Patrick seemed to recount to her patron the dreams she had seen in the night past. The saint said to this: “What you, holy Virgin, did see in the mind’s vision you shall see in clear light: for two brothers, sprung of royal seed — whom ancient honour adorns with lofty degrees, begotten of the blood of nobles and the flower of parents — shall come tomorrow; in this present field you shall see them: to whom we shall speak the holy words of God on high, mingling the sweet cups of the everlasting life. But one shall be a fool with hardened heart, as it were a stone, made harder than hard malign adamant; he shall go away ever accursed. The other shall turn his heart in faithful love of God, and shall be blessed, following Christ’s precepts; he shall be great, shall reign over peoples, shall hold the kingdom, and his progeny after him shall hold his realm until the utmost end of the world shall come.” So said that servant of God; so the deed approved: all things were so which the chaste Brigid saw.

[Colgan’s note appended: concerning Eochaid Finn, Cond Cetchathach — he saw another vision, in which he saw two stones, one great and the other small, both sprinkled with a shower poured over them: the greater diminishing, the smaller took increase at the shower’s touch and gave back silvery sparkles and flashings. The vision heard, the man of God thus interpreted it: “Those two stones are two sons of Eochadius son of Crimthan — Bressal and Carbreus. For Bressal, the elder by birth, shall spurn the doctrine of salvation preached to him — that is, the rain of heavenly grace — and hence, subject to the malediction, shall dwindle with his seed. But Carbreus, surnamed Damh-airgid, his brother, watered by the dew of divine grace, shall embrace the proposed truth of the faith without resistance and, enriched with God’s blessing, shall grow into a great nation.” All which things came to pass as the prophet of truth foretold: for the saint himself afterwards struck the aforementioned Bressal, refusing to embrace the way of salvation, with the javelin of malediction, while his brother Carbreus, believing promptly and devoutly in Christ, he enriched and fortified with his progeny by bestowing the blessing. Of this Carbreus the sister was St Cinnia, of whom we treated before. Colgan reckons many saints of that family.]

§71. What manner of virtue she wrought at that time — though it be small indeed — is great, because it seems wondrous. A foolish leper had come to the saint and presumed to ask whether the Virgin in her mercy would wash the garment he had on his body and his clothing. Yet the saint bent the heart of pity to the fool: she said, “Grant me now your garments to wash: I shall count this light task for Christ’s name.” But the leper then had no other garments: he sought help wherewith he might cherish his limbs. Then the saint began to entreat one of the maids enough, that the woman would lend her own garment. The sad little maid refuses her mantle: “Even if you, my mistress, chastise my back with your scourges for ever, I will never proffer our clothing to the leper.” She spoke, and twisted her hard brow with a murmur. I speak marvels: the leprosy which the leper had, flowing back, deservedly invaded the maid perverse at heart; and he returned sound in his whole body — the white leprosy struck the virgin’s skin. Then all who saw such signs feared, and praised God, beating their breasts with their palms, and joyfully fixed kisses on the Virgin’s feet.

§72. Brigid, God’s saint, after these things in those times had built a cell for holy virgins; when she had come… [here the text breaks off: the rest was wanting in the Monte Cassino manuscript, and the edition proceeds to the Fourth Life, “Vita IV bipartita”.]