Jonas of Bobbio, Vitae Columbani abbatis discipulorumque eius Liber II, cc. 7–22 (MGH SRM IV, ed. Krusch, 1902) — translated into modern British English; the edition’s apparatus and the editor’s historical footnotes are condensed. The file opens mid-sentence in ch. 7 and closes at the heading of ch. 23 (the Life of St Bertulf, printed separately).

Chapter 7 — Of the governance of Eustasius and the light restored to the girl #

¹ …It happened that, for the common need, [Eustasius] went to King Chlothar, who at that time was dwelling in the furthest bounds of Gaul near the Ocean sea. The way of the journey he had undertaken lay through the forest and district of Brie, and he came to a certain estate of Chagneric, where the master had once lived for a while. The estate is called Pipimisiacum, about two miles distant from the city of Meaux. Chagneric was then dwelling there with his wife Leudegundis, a Christian woman of sound mind; he had with him his son Chagnoald, of whom we have made mention above. On seeing Eustasius, Chagneric received him with wondrous joy; and there was with the father and mother their daughter Burgundofara, whom, as we said above, blessed Columbanus had consecrated to the Lord. When her father had already betrothed her and wished to give her in marriage against the girl’s will, she was stricken with a pain of the eyes and inflamed with the fire of fever, so that she was hardly thought likely to be restored to the living.

² As she lay gasping at the point of death, Eustasius rebuked the father, saying that it was his fault she burned with such torments, because he wished to violate the man of God’s prohibition. But he, dissembling, said: “Would that she were restored to health and served in the divine service! I ought not to stand in the way of such vows.” Eustasius then approached the girl’s bed and asked whether it was with her consent that, against blessed Columbanus’s prohibition, she was returning after heavenly vows to earthly things. But the girl protested that she had never consented to such vows, to exchange heavenly things for earthly; she had been and still was ready to obey the blessed man’s commands, and she said she had seen the night before a man of like figure to him [Eustasius] who should restore the light of her eyes, and had heard a voice saying: “Whatever this man tells you, do, and you shall be healed. Entrust to his ears the things you must keep, and by his prayers drive out the pain laid on you by the Lord.”

³ The venerable man, prostrate on the ground with tears, besought the Lord to bestow the promised gift; and rising, he made the sign of the cross over her eyes, and touching her eyes with his hand implored that the Lord’s help be present. At once healing followed: the light was restored, the fire of the fevers put to flight, and he commended her, restored to health, to her mother, so that on his return from Chlothar she might be clothed in the religious habit.

⁴ But when her father saw his daughter restored to health, he decided she should be given to her betrothed — his former promise cast into the blind pit of oblivion. When the girl learned this, she trusted the counsel of one companion with whom she could take flight; and when the girl had given her consent, they made their escape secretly by a happy flight and came to the basilica of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles. When her father learned this, raging he sent after them and ordered his servants to seize his daughter and cruelly put her to death. The servants went and found the girl taken into the bosom of the church; after waiting a little, so that her father’s anger might be broken, they threatened the girl with the peril of death. But she said: “If you think I fear death, put it to the test on this pavement of the church; for such a cause I receive death rejoicing, for the sake of Him who did not disdain to die for me.”

⁵ Without delay Eustasius returned, freed the girl from custody, rebuked the father terribly; through Gundoald, bishop of that city, he clothed her in the religious habit and consecrated her with the saving sacraments. And he built a monastery of Christ’s virgins on her father’s land between the rivers Morin and Aubetin [Faremoutiers], and appointed brethren to have charge of the building; he determined that the girl’s brother Chagnoald and Waldebert, who afterwards succeeded him, should teach her the rule. What virtues were afterwards wrought in that place, if life permits, we endeavour to relate.

Chapter 8 — Of the enlightening of another girl, and the progress of those in the community #

¹ The venerable Eustasius therefore returned to Luxeuil, ready to fulfil his master’s command that the neighbouring peoples should be fed with the food of faith. He went and preached to the Warasci, of whom some were given to the worship of idols, others stained with the error of Photinus or Bonosus. Having converted these to the faith, he went on to the Boii, who are now called Baioarii, and instructed them with great labour and corrected them in the lineaments of the faith, converting many of them. When he had lived there some while, he left behind sagacious men to toil on at the work begun; he himself was eager to return to Luxeuil.

² And as he pursued his journey, he came to a certain man named Gundoënus, who was then dwelling at the villa called Mosa, from the river flowing there. When he saw Eustasius, he received him into his house rejoicing as over a most welcome gift. Eustasius entered the house, gave the blessing first, and asked that the children he had be brought before him. He obediently presented two children of good promise. “Have you other offspring?” he asked. He confessed that besides a daughter bereft of the light of her eyes, named Sadalberga, he had none. “Let her come,” he said. When he saw her, he asked whether her young mind aspired to the service of the fear of God. Fully, as her tender age could, she said she was ready to obey the sacred commands. He gave himself to the work: for two days he wore down her body with fasting, armed her mind with faith, and poured the oil of blessing over her eyes; at last, through the holy man’s intercession, blindness deserved to receive light. Thus the divine goodness, at his servant’s intervention, restored the loss of light, so that she who received the light might, after these divine gifts, aspire more richly to the service of the fear of God. She survives to this day, and given to the divine service provides what is needful not only for herself but for others.

³ And as he went on and accomplished the journey he had begun, a burning fire of fevers seized a certain brother named Agilus, who is now abbot of the monastery of Rebais. Eustasius touched him, healed him by the intervention of prayers, and at once restored him to his former health. Then he came to the aforementioned monastery; there he strove to rouse to Christian vigour both the people within and the neighbouring peoples, and drew many of them to the remedies of penance. It was his zeal to instruct many by his eloquence; for many of them afterwards became prelates of churches — Chagnoald at Laon, Acharius bishop of the Vermandois and of Noyon and Tournai, Ragnacharius of Augst and Basle, Audemarus of Boulogne and the town of Thérouanne.

Chapter 9 — Of the hostility of Agrestius and his repulse #

¹ Now when he was held in favour by all, so that none who had been imbued with his teaching grieved to have lost blessed Columbanus — especially as they saw the master’s institutes flowing into the disciple — and when he was in favour with all and propped by the honour of all the Frankish nobles and renowned for the love and veneration of King Chlothar, the envious serpent blazed up as is its custom against the fame of the saints, and stirred up from the bosom of the mother a new Cain who would extinguish his brother by zeal, or even a new betrayer who would rend the master’s words and, by clashing solid things against frail minds, accommodate a frail mind to the frail ears of the mob. He stirred up one of his subjects named Agrestius, who had once been King Theuderic’s notary and, touched by a certain compunction of heart, had left all he possessed, come to Luxeuil, and given himself and all his goods to the aforementioned father. To unfold the whole: bearing the appearance of religion in the monastery, he afterwards asked leave to be permitted to be a preacher to the nations.

² The holy man, long chiding him, rebuked him: he did not think one still raw in religion fit or worthy for such a work; he who was judged worthy of such a work ought to be adorned with all ecclesiastical ornaments. For Jeremiah, sent by the Lord’s election, declared himself unworthy, saying: “Ah, ah, ah, Lord God, see I cannot speak, for I am a child” [Jer. 1:6]; Moses, chosen by the Lord, testified that he was slow of tongue [Ex. 4:10].

³ When these words availed nothing, he let him go whom he could not hold. He made for the Baioarii, and after a short stay there, bearing no fruit — like a tall plane-tree, garrulous, shaking its trembling leaves of words to the breezes, but knowing no abundance of fruit — he passed on to Aquileia. For the Aquileians were at that time divided from the communion of the apostolic see — of which the Lord speaks in the Gospel to blessed Peter, prince of the apostles: “you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” [Mt. 16:18] — over the dissension of the Three Chapters, from where discord grew to long increase, which it is not the business of the present work to set down. Coming to Aquileia, then, he at once became a partisan of the schism, and was sundered and separated from the communion of the Roman see, condemning all the communion of the world whoever joined himself to the Roman see, while he held that Aquileia alone retained the orthodox faith.

⁴ Imbued with this schism, he sent a poisonous letter, full of reproaches, to blessed Attala by Aureus, King Adaloald of the Lombards’ notary. Blessed Attala read it through, held it ridiculous, and gave it to me to keep; I kept it hidden for many years and afterwards lost it through my own negligence. And it was he himself, not another, who had written it in his own hand.

⁵ Having dispatched the letter to blessed Attala, he hastened himself to Luxeuil, and tried Eustasius with the stings of the schism, to see if he could corrupt a sound mind by his madness. The venerable man, perceiving this, long admonished the wanderer with fatherly words. But when he saw that salutary admonitions could not cure a mind corrupted by the pest, he separated him from his own company and that of his brethren.

⁶ Repulsed by Eustasius, he threw himself here and there, that he might make some men favourers of his party; but when his ineptness could accomplish nothing, he attacked blessed Columbanus’s religious way, barking against his rule with ravening tooth, and grunting like a muddy swine he stirred murmurings through those he could make like himself in his barbarity — aided by Abelenus, bishop of the city of Geneva, who was near to him in blood. This Abelenus strove with all zeal to join neighbouring bishops to himself in aid of Agrestius, so that they might try King Chlothar to see whether he would be an assentor to their party; but he, knowing and having proved by experience the sanctity of blessed Columbanus and the doctrine of his disciples, strove to confute the grunters against the holy doctrine with his answers. And when he had effected nothing, he resolved that the matter should be proved by synodal examination — not doubting of blessed Eustasius’s authority and teaching, that by prudence and ease, with the Holy Spirit aiding him, he would overcome all who fought against the holy rule.

⁷ So by royal authority many bishops of Burgundy assembled in the suburb of the city of Mâcon, among whom sat Treticus in the chief place — urged on chiefly to hold the synod by Warnacharius, because he was Eustasius’s adversary. But Eustasius’s prayer prevailed: that he who had been the author of this miserable strife and would gladly be its assentor should, corrected by the Lord, have all his party’s strength broken through him. For on the appointed day, when the altercation against Eustasius was to arise, he [Warnacharius] died, prevented by death (626/7). With the strength of the Agrestian party thus broken, all were troubled and asked Agrestius what he had to object against blessed Columbanus’s rule or the venerable Eustasius. But he, with trembling lips and possessing no weight of authority or laboured eloquence, said that certain superfluous things alien to canonical institution were observed in their practices. When they pressed him, he at last brought forth the ground of his accusation: that in their rule, the spoon which they licked was frequently marked with the sign of the cross, and that on entering any house in the monastery, both on going in and coming out, a blessing was asked. And when they saw that nothing worthy of synodal debate was offered: “If you have other things,” they said, “oppose them.” Then he burst out that he knew Columbanus departed from the customs of all others, and celebrated the very solemnities of the Mass with a multiplication of prayers and collects, and many other superfluous things which, as if handed down by a heretical author, he ought to execrate.

⁸ When Eustasius heard that he and his brethren with their master had been called heretics, he said: “You, O ornament of the priesthood, who dispense the seed of truth and justice in the churches, ought to prove and to condemn what is alien to truth and true religion. For whatever dissents from the norm of the true path ought to be held outside the body of the Church. It is yours to discern the things objected, whether they be alien to the sequence of the Scriptures.” They answered: “We wish to know from your own mouth what worthy reply you make to this.” He said: “By no means do I judge it contrary to religion if a spoon which a Christian licks, or any vessel or cup, is fortified with the sign of the cross, since by the coming of the Lord’s sign the pest of the opposing enemy is driven out. And when a monk enters or leaves a cell, I hold it right that he be armed with the Lord’s blessing, according to the psalmist’s voice: “The Lord keep you from all evil; may the Lord keep your soul. The Lord keep your coming in and your going out, from henceforth now and for ever” [Ps. 120:7–8]. Though this is referred to every Christian — that by the grace of baptism, faith be preserved in him who enters the Church and be confirmed in strength to the end of perseverance — yet I hold it lawful that each of us, in daily movement, whether in entrance or exit or going forward, be armed with the sign of the cross and strengthened by the blessing of his fellows. The multiplication of prayers in the sacred offices I believe profits all churches. For the more the Lord is entreated, the more He is found; and when He is the more richly pressed by prayer, the sooner is He stirred to mercy for those who ask; for we ought to sweat at nothing else so much as at giving ourselves to prayer. For so the Lord exhorts us among the number of the apostles: “Watch and pray, that you enter not into temptation” [Mt. 26:41]; so the apostle bids us pray without ceasing [1 Thess. 5:17]; so the whole order of the holy Scriptures commands us to cry out — for he who neglects to cry is neglected, and cut off is cast away from the members of Christ. For nothing is so useful and so salutary as to press upon the Creator with multiplication of prayers and assiduity of supplication.”

⁹ Confounded by these and like answers, Agrestius added to the guilt of his garrulity: he calumniated the tonsure of the head — that it was shorn otherwise, that another character was impressed, and that they departed from the custom of all.

Chapter 10 — Of the punishment of his associates, his own death, and the death of Eustasius #

¹ To the trifler babbling vain words, Eustasius — sagacious as he was, and adorned with the virtue of patience and knowledge — answered: “In the presence of these priests, I, his disciple and successor — whose discipline and institutes you condemn — summon you to the divine judgement with him within the circle of the present year, that by the examination of the just Judge you may learn whose servant you seek to sully with your detractions.” At these words fear struck some who were favourers of Agrestius’s party, and all exhorted that hearts be joined in the bond of peace, that the one should put away the boldness of his presumptuous rashness, and the other foster the faltering man with fatherly affection and pious reproofs. To this Eustasius said: “I would gladly satisfy your prayers, if the wretched mind would soften the hardness of its folly and, with the diseased parts corrected by the cautery or cut away by the antidote, would strive to return to the things that heal.” When all pressed, Agrestius asked for a feigned peace — as his deeds afterwards showed. Eustasius, mild of spirit and conscious of virtues, yielded to the persuasion of those who asked: he granted peace and offered the kiss.

² But Agrestius, though he had suppressed his open madness for shame, did not wholly desist from his evil. He began then to tempt the monasteries and, under the guise of a disciple, to set a price on treachery. He came to a certain venerable man, Romaricus, who had been held in the first honours at Theudebert’s court, and afterwards, warned by blessed Columbanus’s example and Eustasius’s preaching, had come to Luxeuil and subjected himself to the monastic institutes. When he had long led his life under the tenor of the rule, he afterwards — with Eustasius’s consent — founded a monastery of women on his own property, in which he established that blessed Columbanus’s rule should be kept. And when he was already strong in much religion, Agrestius went to him, feigned himself a subject and obedient, and at the same time tried Amatus — whom Eustasius had set over the place to teach the rule — with soft suggestions. For at that time both Amatus and Romaricus had been rebuked by Eustasius over certain negligences. So when he perceived them wounded, that he might the more easily join their exasperated minds to his assertions, he gradually stimulated their sound minds to receive his poisoned words and to propagate his own madness in contempt of blessed Columbanus’s rule. Alas! By ruinous persuasion and deadly instillation the man gone mad stained sound doctrine. They cast off the former institutes and tried to instruct the raw people with new doctrines, and did not fear to bring back into zeal of envy the serpent drawn out, as Job says, by the obstetric hand of God [Job 26:13].

³ Then he directed his way to Burgundofara, to see if he could stain her too with his provocations. But the virgin of Christ confounded him not in womanly fashion but with a manly answer: “Have you come here, confuter of the truth and introducer of new arguments, to pour your poison over sweet honey and change life-giving food for deadly bitterness? You slander those whose virtues I have known by experience, whose wholesome doctrine I received, from whose teaching I have learned that many have entered the heavenly kingdom. I would have you remember what Isaiah said: “Woe to them that call evil good and good evil” [Is. 5:20]. Hasten, and at once depart quickly from this madness.” Confuted by these answers of the handmaid of Christ, he returned again to Romaricus and Amatus, to draw tighter the wrinkle of the deceit he had begun.

⁴ Nor was divine vengeance long wanting. When all were now inclined to become assentors to the contempt of the former teachings, first two of those who were favourers of this assertion, seized by the rabid madness of wolves — the wolves bursting into the enclosure in the dead of night — were torn by their bites and, left with the plague of rabies, miserably given over to death. Another, Plaureius by name, who vehemently inclined to this tinder of discord, a rabies of demons seized, and he was handed over to an ignoble death — for he hanged himself with his own hand in a noose. But since this vengeance was by no means a correction to the guilty, a greater at once followed. For suddenly a flash of lightning from heaven struck the place with such a crash, ran through the church, tore off the roof, burned the people, slew — that the present correction might show those who, with excessive simplicity forestalling and cunning now mixed in, had given assent to the slothful persuasion, that they must flee the wrath to come. Twenty died on the spot; then death gradually carried off those struck with fear, so that by that vengeance, as they say, more than fifty died — the author of the crime, of course, being reserved for repentance, that if he should acknowledge and return, he might without doubt receive healing. For the Lord desires none to perish, but always awaits the return through the remedies of repentance even of one overwhelmed with grave sins.

⁵ And since he did not recognise that place for repentance so often given him — that Eustasius’s sentence summoning him to judgement might prevail — before the completion of the turning year, within a span of thirty days, he was struck with an axe by a slave whom he himself had ransomed, and died. The occasion of the crime was said to be an affair with his wife — which, though many say it and wish to assert it as true, it is not ours to confirm. For “all things, as Solomon says, God will bring into judgement for every error, whether good or evil” [Eccles. 12:14]; and the apostle: “Every man’s work, of what sort it is, the fire shall prove” [1 Cor. 3:13]. But this we must say: the just sentence of the divine judgement did not delay to strike him here, both to show his assentors that they must flee from rending the servants of God, and that he might atone for his acts of contumacy by a merited punishment.

⁶ But Amatus and Romaricus sought the venerable Eustasius’s pardon and were received, and with sloth removed they flourished. And Abelenus and the other bishops of the Gauls afterwards strove to confirm Columbanus’s institutes. How many, already in the love of Columbanus and his rule, built monasteries, gathered peoples, assembled the flocks of Christ! Among whom the illustrious Eligius — who now presides as bishop of the Vermandois church (of whom, since he survives, I must not prop myself up by my own judgement, lest I be reproached for the fault of flattery) — built near the city of Limoges a noble monastery called Solignac, on the river Vienne, four miles from that city, and many other monasteries in those parts, and at Paris too he built a monastery of women which he had received by royal gift, over which he set the virgin of Christ Aurea. At Bourges also a monastery of women was built on blessed Columbanus’s rule by Berthoara, a woman noble in birth and religion. In the territory of the same city of Bourges the venerable Theudulfus, surnamed Babolenus, built monasteries on Columbanus’s rule, flourishing with all religion: first on an island above the river Marmande, where he gathered a company of religious men; another called Gaudiacus not far from the little river Aubois; a third of Christ’s virgins at the place called Charenton above the same river Marmande; and likewise another of Christ’s virgins near the town of Nevers under the same rule.

⁷ Blessed Eustasius therefore strove after these victories to correct the delinquents and resolved to gather again those who had remained at peace with him. By this time the assembly of monks under his obedience in the aforementioned monastery had grown very great, so that many monasteries were being built in neighbouring places, which his successor Waldebert confirmed and enlarged. And now awaiting his blessed departure from this life, he laboured with all intentness at contemplating the teachings of the mystic precepts, and poured out prayers to God alone with mind intent. And when he had been intent on this work for many circling years, the time of his calling came, and the sentence of the just Judge was given, that what the circles of years spent in diverse afflictions had left unpurged, the weakness of the body in a few days should heal. And being asked in a vision of the night, amid the fires of suffering, whether he wished to be cured by a milder pain over forty days, or, purged by a fiercer burning over thirty, to enter the heavens possessed of the blessed life, he answered that it was better to lie under hard scourges for a short time than to be consumed longer by milder pains. So he fulfilled the foreseen and chosen bodily suffering; on the thirtieth day he bade farewell to all, and to the sorrowing remnant declared his promise — announcing that his departure was that same day; and having taken the viaticum, he rendered his soul to heaven, leaving to the living only their longing, a father’s rule, and the example of religion (2 April). He himself, with the aid of the victory won, entered the heavenly realms under Christ’s leadership, to whom is power and honour for ever and ever. Amen.

Chapter 11 — Of the monastery of Faremoutiers: the death of Sisetrudis and the angelic songs #

¹ I would have the reader remember that I promised above [ch. 7] to tell what and how great miracles the Creator of things deigned to show in the monastery of the aforementioned Burgundofara — called Faremoutiers — which she had built on blessed Columbanus’s rule with all intentness and devotion.

² When she already held a company of many virgins gathered with her under regular discipline, with Christ as leader, at a certain time one of her subjects named Sisetrudis, the monastery’s cellarer, learned by a revelation of the end of her life, and was commanded that, an interval of forty days being set, she should prepare her journey, correct her ways, amend her life, and keep herself ready in all things. Thirty-seven days passed spent in all religion; she had worn down her body with fasting and prayer, with floods of tears and the labour of vigils, that she might the more easily open the way of the coming journey. Then two youths came, clad in white stoles, and separating her soul from the body they bore it through the empty air; after long examination they carried it to the heavens, and mingling it with the angelic choirs and inserting it into the multitude of all the white-robed, they bade her take her joyful triumphs over the world. And when she was already held secure amid the eternal joys with abundant exultation, and rejoiced tripping in the choirs of virgins with excellent glory, and stood before the tribunal of the merciful Judge, she was ordered to be brought back into the body and to return again on the third day. They carried her back to the body, bidding her keep herself more richly prepared after the three days, that the course of forty days might be fulfilled.

³ Returned therefore to the body, she called the mother and all the company of the handmaids of God, and prayed that they would bring her comfort by their prayers; she testified that three more days of the end of life had been granted her. So when the third day came, she asked that the mother be present and prayed that all await her departure. And when all stood about, promising her life’s continuance and the body’s health and testifying that what she said was not manifest, she saw the two youths she had seen above coming to her and asking whether she now wished to go. But she, rejoicing: “I will go hence, my lords, I will go, nor be held longer in this life full of troubles, but be restored again to that golden light from which I returned.” When mother Burgundofara asked to whom she spoke such words, she said: “Do you not see the men standing here clothed in stoles, who the day before yesterday carried me to the heavens and now are ready to lead me back by that same road?” While the mother wondered and all stood around, she spoke her last farewell and was deprived of the present life. And as all bent upon her passing, they heard the angelic choirs singing together and sweet melodies borne through the air — fear and joy at once struck them all — and going out of the cell where the watch was kept, as far as human hearing could reach they still heard the angelic voices singing. This first exhortation of this monastery the Lord willed to show to His handmaids, that the rest who survived might aspire with all intentness to the service of religion.

Chapter 12 — Of the life and death of Gibitrudis #

¹ And another exhortation arose after these. A certain virgin named Gibitrudis, noble in birth and religion, had come to the aforementioned monastery a convert from the world, whom mother Burgundofara received rejoicing as a welcome gift, for she was near to her in blood. She had burned with such ardour of fire that in all things the Holy Spirit’s grace seemed to flame in her. For while she was still held in her father’s house and, at the Holy Spirit’s prompting, wished to devote herself to the service of religion, she asked her father and mother to build her an oratory in which she might offer service to her Creator. But her parents bore it ill — both were noble Franks — nor did they strive to enter by that road which leads to the heavenly kingdom; they wished rather to be propped up by worldly ornaments and for this reason desired offspring from their daughter rather than to give their own pledge to heaven. But when they could in no way change the girl’s mind from this purpose, yielding to her vows they built a very small oratory. As the girl frequented it day and night, the crafty enemy’s cunning began to shoot darts at her and, attacking her through her maid, to prepare hindrances and prevent her from frequenting the oratory. But when the girl saw herself distressed, she began to seek her Creator’s mercy — that she who hindered her from frequent prayer and wished to extinguish the light of her soul should herself be deprived of outward light. Nor did the divine goodness delay! The maid, stricken with pain of the eyes, at once lost the needful light, and the merciful judge redoubled the parents’ fe and struck the girl’s father with fevers. He, though swelling with nobility, was already aspiring by his daughter’s example to the fear of the divine service, and asked his daughter to pray to the Lord for her father, promising that if he were restored to health through her intercession he would afterwards obey her will in all things. Nor was health long delayed to him who asked faithfully: the fire of the fever removed, the father was soon restored to his former health, and the girl then asked that she might come to the aforementioned monastery.

² When she had led the religious life there through many years, it happened at a certain time that the aforementioned Burgundofara was seized with fevers and believed to be loosed from the bonds of this present life. When Gibitrudis saw the monastery’s mother lying at the point of death, anxiously she entered the basilica and with tearful voices besought the Lord that, mindful of His ancient mercy, He would not let the mother die, but first take herself and lay her companions in heaven, and then at last bid the mother follow. And she heard a voice from above say after her tears: “Go, handmaid of Christ: as you asked, you have obtained. For she is still to be joined to the living in health; but you shall first be loosed from the bonds of the flesh.” Nor long after, she was seized with fever and, in her last hours, gave up her soul.

³ And when she had been received by the angels and was being carried above the upper air, and set before the tribunal of the eternal Judge saw — as she afterwards related — the companies of the white-robed and all the host of heaven standing before the glory of the eternal Judge, she heard a voice from the throne say: “Return, for you have not fully left the world. For it is written: “Give, and it shall be given to you” [Lk. 6:38], and elsewhere in the prayer: “Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.” For you did not forgive your companions all, because you retained the injuries done you. Remember that you bore wounded feelings against three companions, nor healed the wound inflicted wholly with the medicine of indulgence. Correct therefore your ways; compose the feelings you stained with lukewarmness or negligence.” Wondrous to tell! Returning and restored to her former life, with sad lamentations she told the sentence laid upon her and confessed her guilt, and called the companions against whom she had borne bitter feelings and begged their pardon, lest through hidden malice she incur the loss of eternal life. For six months restored to health she lived in the present age; then seized with fever, she foretold the day of her departure and announced beforehand the hour of her going from the world. And she made so blessed an end that within the cell where her body lay lifeless you would have believed balsams were distilling — which caused great wonder in all of us who were there at that time. And on the thirtieth day, when we were celebrating the solemnities of masses for her commemoration after the ecclesiastical custom, so great a fragrance filled the church that you would have believed all the odours of unguents and spices were present. Rightly does the Creator of things make the souls dedicated to Him shine with His gifts — they who for love of Him would in no wise love or cherish the world.

Chapter 13 — Of the life and death of Ercantrudis #

¹ A certain girl, Ercantrudis by name, detained within the years of infancy, of noble parents, entered the aforementioned monastery as a convert. When she had led the religious life there for many years, the just Judge willed to prove her through the sufferings of the present body; and her tender age bore such scourges that you would have believed the example of Job repeated in her by the multitude of immense pains. But wondrous patience was found in her youthful age, wondrous virtue of humility, wondrous gentleness, wondrous piety, wondrous meekness, wondrous charity. Amid the fires of suffering the soul’s virtue flourished; faith stood unshaken, goodness immovable, the abundance of tears incomparable; in the measure that the pains laid on her afflicted the body, the hope of joys and the exultation of eternal life gladdened the soul. She had been so nurtured by the mother’s care within the enclosure of the monastery that she knew not at all how to distinguish the nature of the sexes: she reckoned male as female, female as male alike. She was an example to all: her rich conversation, her virtue of patience, her cultivation of piety, her affection of gentleness.

² And when she was in favour with all, it happened that she did something against the tenor of the rule. Rebuked by the aforementioned mother, that she might atone for the guilt of the admitted offence and, until she had fulfilled the appointed term of penance, withdraw herself from the Lord’s body — when she heard the sentence of deprivation of the sacred body, struck with heavy wounds she began to weep. For the next day was the consecrated solemnity of blessed Martin’s passing. Keeping vigil through that night and imploring pardon for her fault, lest she incur the loss of so great a deprivation — that by her fault she should be separated from Christ’s body — at last after tears and abundant groans and frequent sighs she deserved to receive a merciful consolation from the Lord: “Go,” He said, “and be reconciled to the body of Christ this day, for the offence for which you asked is forgiven you; and tell the mother, make known what I have said.” This she made known to the mother in the morning by humble confession, and reconciled to the sacred body she afterwards led a religious life.

³ And after many circling years, when the Creator of all now willed to lay her up in heaven, she was seized with the fire of fever; and when she was at the point of death she said: “Quickly: run and separate one dead from among you and cast her out from the fellowship of the rest; for it is not fitting that they who are crucified to the world and live for Christ, not for themselves, should keep among them one dead and separated from life.” And when all asked one another what she meant, one of them, confounded and struck with terror, fell prostrate on the ground, confessed her guilt, and promised to amend in all things — for she was living to the world, desiring the worldly life outside, and gave herself not at all to mortification but lived wholly to the world.

⁴ After this, when black night had come on and held the world, the light expelled, Ercantrudis asked that the light of the fire in the cell where she lay be put out. When the others asked what she meant, she said: “Do you not see how great a splendour is coming, and do you not hear the choirs of the singers?” They asked what she heard them singing. She said: “‘O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good: for His mercy endures for ever. O give thanks to the God of gods: for His mercy endures for ever’ [Ps. 135:1–2], and the rest that follows — all these mouths are singing.” While all wondered, she bade a last farewell to the mother and her companions, yielded up her spirit and, restored to heaven after a blessed passing, merited to possess eternal joys and to gain from her present pains the profit of eternal life.

Chapter 14 — Of the death of Augnofledis and the angelic songs #

¹ Another virgin of Christ at that time, named Augnofledis, as she gave up her last breath and for the loss of the present life gained the profits of eternal life, and was joyfully separated from the bonds of the flesh, deserved on departing from this age to have like songs at her passing. For those who were far from her deathbed heard openly with their ears singing, and breaking into these words: “you shall purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; you shall wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. you shall make me hear of joy and gladness, and the bones that have been humbled shall rejoice” [Ps. 50:9–10].

Chapter 15 — Of the maiden Deurechildis and her death #

¹ And since the Creator of things ceases not through the ages to heap up the ornament of His majesty upon just souls full of the gift of innocence — that the supplement of renewing exhortation to religion may grow — it happened that a certain maiden named Deurechildis was converted to the aforementioned monastery together with her mother; and when many days had been spent there, the tempter attacked the mother, to hinder the journey of ascent to the heavenly kingdom she had begun. But what the mother, overcome by weakness, yielded to her frailty, her young daughter’s rebuke in turn scattered the heap of evils. And when the girl, devoted to the years of her youth, had long yielded rich fruits to the Creator through many courses of time, one day she saw the heavens opened and, beholding the eternal Creator of things with her gaze, intent in the light of heavenly brightness she deserved to hear: “Come to us, and loosed from the bonds of the body, receive eternal brightness.” When those who stood by wondered at what truth the thing done held, or what the eyes of her gazing at heaven saw — for they could not at all discern, though her eyelids moved, what her eyes contemplated — she said she was being called above and loosed from the bonds of the present life; and it was the Sabbath day. So when the next day, the Lord’s day, dawned, the maiden, seized with fever, awaited her last end.

² Her anxious mother, seeing the end of her only offspring approaching, amid sobs and groans begged her daughter that, if she could obtain it, she might be restored to the living; or if she fulfilled the end of her life, that she would draw her quickly after her out of this life, saying she could not live after her passing. To this she answered: “You are often stirred, mother, by carnal desires in these petitions; but I, if I can, favouring your entreaties, after the due medicines of penance will draw you after me, Christ favouring it.” Without delay, set in her last hours, she asked for the monastery’s mother. When the mother came in haste to pay the last honours to the soul about to go out of the world, the girl, seeing her, rejoiced gladly, and bidding her and all farewell, commended her mother to her; among which things she asked that they keep silence. And when all, silence made, awaited the soul’s going out, she said: “Give place: my Creator comes to me, my Saviour hastens to me” — and she bade the mother help her by saying the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed, because she herself, with trembling lips, could not bring out the words with unmoved utterance. When these were finished, the cell shining with exceeding beauty and brightness, she joyfully rendered her soul to her Creator.

³ Without delay the mother was stricken and scourged with bodily suffering for forty days; and when the span of forty days was fulfilled, she was first terrified by the terrible aspect of demons, then consoled by the Bestower’s aid she confessed that she had obtained pardon through her daughter’s intercession, and thereafter, loosed from the bonds of the flesh, rendered her soul to heaven. For it is given to be understood that she who could not by her own merits escape the ruins of the world deserved, by her daughter’s intercession, to be saved through penance in a short space amid the pains laid upon her.

Chapter 16 — Of Domma and the two little girls, and the shining ray seen in her mouth #

¹ If we insert what serves for the progress or increase of the perfect, or for the amendment of delinquents, let no one judge that we compile unnecessary things. For there is no doubt that the losses of others render most men more vigilant for seizing gains, by warning them.

² On a certain Lord’s day, when the often-named Burgundofara with the company of God’s handmaids awaited the solemnity of masses, and they were already partaking of the communion of the sacred body, a certain one of them named Domma — when she had received the Lord’s body and tasted the blood and, inserted in the sacred choir, was singing with her companions “Take you this sacred body of the Lord and the Saviour’s blood to life eternal” — a fiery globe glowing with white radiance shone in her mouth. But when the illumination of the fire was not perceived by any bystander, two little girls standing near, whom innocence rendered spotless, saw rays shining from the mouth of the aforementioned with exceeding brightness amid the melodies of the songs; and not knowing how to keep silence, they began to say in wonder: “Look, look at the glowing globe shining from Domma’s mouth!” When the mother heard it, she rebuked them and bade them be silent, lest the guilt of vanity — as in fact happened — should darken her heart through whose mouth the flowing grace made a pleasant light.

³ But her mind, corrupted by frailty, began afterwards to love the stings of elation and pride from the Holy Spirit’s gifts, to incur the crime of contumacy, to put on the arrogance of haughtiness — so that she despised the mother, looked down on her companions, and spurned the warnings of all. Without delay she was seized with fever and brought to the point of death — nor even so did she take pains to amend. But the two who had seen it — one named Ansitrudis — were stricken, the one with a pain of the head, the other with fever, and brought to the last, awaited their final end. And when the companies of the sisters were now present and preparing themselves for the office of psalmody at their passing, one of them began to sing with pious mouth songs unheard by human ears and sweet melodies, to pray to the Creator in wondrous words, unheard prayers, ineffable mysteries; and at the same time a fragrance of wondrous sweetness filled the cell. It was the ninth hour of the day when the sweet odour filled the cell; the odour of balsam breathed from her breast, and so through all the following night and through the succeeding day until the other ninth hour the sweetness of odour and the melodies of song persisted. Then they bade the mother sing and foretold they would depart; and when the spirit left them, with their passing the fragrance of odour departed too. For this must assuredly be believed: that this glory of a good passing which they deserved to have, the aforementioned Domma would have had, had she not lost it through the vice of elation and pride.

Chapter 17 — Of Wilsindane, her prophecy, and the angelic songs #

¹ Other exhortations of this glory afterwards arose in the aforementioned monastery, that by the appearing of the divine goodness the gains of eternal life might be more richly loved. For a certain woman of the Saxon race named Willesuinda was converted in their monastery. When she had led the religious life there for many years, one day while she was working in the garden within the monastery’s enclosure she spoke to her companions: “One of us who cultivate the herbs in this plot is soon to go” — and therefore they ought to be prepared, lest the negligence of lukewarmness breed the loss of eternal life. And when they asked which of them it was, she would not reveal it; and not long after she was stricken with bodily infirmity.

² When she was afflicted with diverse sufferings, she began to lift a joyful countenance to heaven and to expound pages of Scripture long unknown to her; beginning at the beginning, she recited the books of Moses in order, then related all the Scriptures in sequence and the living mysteries of the Gospel, and after the documents of the ancients told the apostolic things — saying at the same time that those who remained behind should not give themselves to sadness, that the Lord would soon give vengeance upon their adversaries, and that this consolation had been promised to her. For there was an adversary of the monastery named Ega, a man lofty in the world, to whom Dagobert on his deathbed had commended his son Clovis with the kingdom (January 639). He fought against the aforementioned monastery, violated its boundaries, and persecuted all its household dwelling around by whatever occasion he could. But not long did he enjoy the wishes of his obstinate purpose, for soon after, struck by the promised vengeance, he died.

³ Then she began to sing with sweet melody the prayers and supplications which the offices of priests bring forth. And when those who stood by wondered greatly, she addressed one of the bystanders: “Cast it out, cast it out — throw out the refuse!” When the others asked what she meant, she said: “Do you not see with what filth she keeps her mind occupied and muddy, and how she has not at all taken care to purge the floor of her breast by confession — she who, while still in the world before she was enclosed here, stained it with all uncleanness?” Struck with fear, seized with shame, and found out by the Holy Spirit’s light, she to whom these things were said fell prostrate on the ground and revealed her hidden vices to the mother by confession. Then she who awaited life’s end began to ask that, space being made, they should give place to those who were coming.

⁴ When they obeyed, with glad countenance and inclined head she said: “Bless, my ladies, bless, my ladies.” Those who stood by asking to whom she sent her greeting, she answered: “Do you not see your sisters who have gone from your company to the heavens?” And when they asked whether she recognised them, she spoke with rebuking voice to one of them named Ansetrudis: “Do you too not recognise your sister Ansildis, who long ago passed to the heavens, inserted in the choirs of the white-robed?” Saying this, her soul slipped from the flesh; and as it went out, angelic song was at once heard in the air. For some of them who had gone out a little way from the cell where the body lay lifeless heard the companies of angels resounding and singing through the air — from which song they learned that Willesuinda had been loosed from the bonds of the flesh; and running back they found her limbs departed and the company of sisters fulfilling the offices of burial, and knew that what they had heard resounding through the air had been the supplement of her obsequies.

Chapter 18 — Of Leudeberta and the vision of blessed Peter, prince of the apostles #

¹ After these, the rich goodness of His gifts again heaped up further boons, and delayed not to fortify another virgin named Leudeberta with wholesome admonitions and the teachings of heavenly lineage. For while she led the holy life in the same monastery for some seasons, He delayed not to warn her through sleep to make her more ready for life’s end; and a voice said to her, when she had relaxed her limbs in sleep, that she should in no wise depart from the aforementioned mother’s admonitions, for she was soon to be separated from the living. Nor did the kind Bestower of the promised gift delay long to heap up His boon: He struck her with sickness and brought her openly to her last end. And when the mother and her companions stood by to pay the last honours, suddenly after a long silence she put forth her voice and said: “At what hour, glorious prince of the apostles Peter, will you that we go?” And when the others wished to know what she did, she said: “Do you not see your patron, the prince of the apostles, standing among you and wishing to lead me from this life?” Scarcely had she leave to say this when, with glad countenance looking round on all, she gave up her last breath, and leaving the upper air was borne to the eternal joys. For the Creator of things therefore permitted her tongue to put forth this mournful voice after long silence, that He might provoke others to the example of her life and show by so great plenty of gifts those whom He ceases not to enrich — they who pass from this light in His fear or love.

Chapter 19 — Of the correction of delinquents and the damnation of the fugitives #

¹ For the malice of the devil’s fraud had boiled up against this people of Christ: seeing them strong in virtues, he attacked to stain them with temptations, and strove to tear some of them — whom their new conversion still left raw — from the company of the rest and to try to violate the monastery’s enclosure; he plunged them into desiring the ruinous life of the world and, in dog-like fashion, into wishing to take up again the vomited filth of their inward parts [Prov. 26:11]. And when, through the dark shadows and silences of the dusky night, they prepared for flight and tried to cross the monastery’s enclosure by the bars of a ladder, suddenly a mass of fire in the shape of a bushel measure came out from the middle of the dormitory and traversed and lighted the whole house; and afterwards, divided into three globes, it passed through the passages of the doors with a great crash of thunder — for the house had as many doors by which the fire put forth its globes. That crash of thunder both waked the sleeping and corrected those leaving the monastery’s enclosure: and when some of them had already thrown their feet over the rampart, terrified by so great a crash they wished to return within the enclosure, but could by no means draw back their feet, weighed down as if with lead — for the devil strove by such craft as he could to weigh down those whom the divine correction would in no wise suffer to perish. Confounded, therefore, they acknowledged their faults, and returning to the mother revealed them by confession.

² Then the ancient serpent attacked two others — whom their newer and much weaker conversion still left — and drove them to tempting, first so that no true confession came from their mouths. For it was the custom of the monastery and of the rule that three times a day each of them should purge her mind by confession, and whatever wrinkle the mind had contracted through frailty should be washed away by pious disclosure. Into this lapse the devil’s darts had plunged the minds of the aforementioned girls: that no true confession should come from the mouth — either of what they had committed in the world or of what daily frailty attracted in thought or word or deed — lest true confession through the medicines of penance restore them again to health. And when the deadly serpent had gradually poured in his poison, hardening their hearts, and had found that the minds deceived by his malice were compliant, he attacked so that on a certain night, going out beyond the monastery’s enclosure, they should take flight and wish to return to their own homes. And when through the dense night they went and could not at all keep the road for the thickness of the darkness, the devil stood at their left and counterfeited a light in the shape of a lantern by such craft as he could, and showed them the way back to the world, and by their turning back increased his strength. And when they came to the appointed place, the pursuers following with none hindering, they returned to the aforementioned monastery with wrinkled brows. And when they had returned and the inquiry was made what cause had driven them to depart, they answered that they had been goaded by the devil’s darts and could not keep their minds straight. And when they had long been rebuked by the whole congregation and the correction of all profited nothing, they were both struck by divine vengeance and learned to pay their merited penalties.

³ And when the anxious mother of the aforementioned monastery asked what occasion of punishment it was and could by no means draw out the truth, she exhorted them again in their last hours to reveal the deed by confession. And when their hardened hearts would take no remedy, amid the scourges they began to cry: “Wait a little, wait, do not press us as we wait!” And when the others asked by whom they were bidden to wait, they said: “Do you not see the band of Ethiopians coming, who wish to seize and carry us off?” And when those present wondered at the terrible saying, they heard a crash resounding above the roof of the cell, and the cell’s door burst open by force, so that those standing by saw the blackening shadows and heard voices repeatedly calling them by name — so that those present could hardly stand, armed as they were with the sign of the cross and held in the office of psalmody. With so great sorrow and grief at the event, the mother pressed that their vices be revealed by confession and that they be strengthened by the communion of the sacred body. But they, at the mention of the sacred body, began to gnash and grind their teeth and, hissing, to say “Tomorrow, tomorrow,” and meanwhile to repeat the aforementioned cry: “Wait, wait, wait a little, wait.” Amid which voices they gave up their last breath.

⁴ And since the monastery’s mother did not think it right to bury them in the company of the rest, she ordered them to be buried apart, at the very edge. Over their tombs within three years a globe of fire in the shape of a shield frequently appeared — especially in the days of Lent until the coming of holy Easter, and on the vigil of the Lord’s Nativity it glowed the fiercer — and at the same time the voices of a great tumultuous crowd resounded; among which two broke out howling, as is accustomed to resound in torments: “Woe is me! woe is me!” So the mother of the monastery, seeing the just sentence laid by the just Judge upon unjust souls, set herself to learn more plainly the sentence of the damned: approaching the tomb, she inquired by trial whether the corpses, though corrupted by putrefaction, remained in the sepulchre. Six months had now passed since the dead bodies had been laid there: she found the sepulchre within burned up by fire, and nothing of the corpses left in the ground but the trace of ashes. And the severity of the sentence laid upon them remained for three years — that the terror of the damned might give fear to the living, the punishment inflicted on the dead might give fear to the living, and from the perdition of the perishing the salvation of the survivors might be propagated in religious zeal.

Chapter 20 — Of the death of Landeberga and the angelic songs #

¹ Nor after a little space did consolations of comfort fail to come forth. For a certain woman named Landeberga, when she was already awaiting to lose the last hours of the present life, beset by the whole weight of anxieties and wounded by the strong stings of sorrows, awaited only the comfort of life’s end. And when the summons was already at hand through the silent night, and all who were watching over the sick woman, weighed down by sleep, were taking their rest, one only, wearied by sickness, named Gernomeda, remained awake among her companions there. And when, as we said, the sick woman awaited her last end, a dense cloud mingled with a kind of ruddy glow covered her bed, and voices of singers were heard exulting: “Let us sing to the Lord, for He is gloriously magnified” [Ex. 15:1]. So when Gernomeda heard the voices of the singers resounding, anxiously she began to wake her companions; but when she could by no means wake any, she watched the outcome of the thing the more intently, and saw the cloud gradually lifted from the bed and the soul at the same time drawn out of the body. And when the cloud had now been raised on high and her ears no longer heard the voices of the singers, then at last she could wake the sick woman’s companions and bade them pay the due songs over the body. And she herself, stricken for seven days following by heavy blows of fevers, ended her life on the eighth day.

Chapter 21 — Of the abundance of oil and the changing of water #

¹ After these things, the institutor of goodness and gifts delayed not again to bestow the boons of His goodness. For a certain girl named Bithildis was converted in the aforementioned monastery within the years of her youth. When she had long been worn down by the chains of the regular discipline and desired the heavenly rewards with unwavering longing, it happened that the just Judge willed to lay up in heaven a just soul full of the plenty of justice. And when she was set at the last, she asked that a light be kindled before her through the succession of the nights and that the praises of the sacred reading be read before her. One of those who stood by had filled a vessel with oil and water, but sleep overcame them all; and so, the night’s span passed, the sick woman spent the night without the comfort of her companions. At the fall of dawn, when they had sung the morning praises to the Lord, she looked at the lamp which the attendant had filled with oil and water, now changed into milk, and asked for proof whether anyone of the companions had changed it. They said: “Do you not know that there was no milk here?” Then the sick woman said: “Consume not your soul in this labour, but let us to inquire.” And when they wished to know the thing more closely, they called the mother and told her the cause. She, that she might learn it the more diligently, bade them separate the oil from the milk. And when they had separated the oil and nothing of the appearance of milk remained, the oil began to grow afresh and flow more abundantly from the vessel. Then at last those who stood by knew the virtue of God; they collected it with all zeal and stored it in the sanctuary.

² Witnesses of this thing are Burgundofarus, bishop of the city of Meaux, and Waldebert, abbot of the monastery of Luxeuil. And certain sick women who were anointed with that oil were restored to their former health; Bithildis herself, filled with all gladness, awaited a blessed end. And when she had rendered her soul to heaven, so great a sweetness of odour filled the cell that you would have believed balsams were distilling there. What was this — that He changed the creature of water into the appearance of milk and bade the oil multiply in flowing — except that the divine mercy wished to show to others how the divine clemency had visited the sick woman on the aforementioned night? And since she would not reveal to her companions what she had seen, the Almighty left a token of His virtue and of His visitation.

Chapter 22 — Of the beast seen at the transgression of food #

¹ Since we have not omitted to hand down to posterity the boons of great things conferred for the merit of goodness and zeal of religion, we think it right also to make known what we have learned to profit the hardness and slothfulness of mind.

² For a certain girl, noble in birth, came to the aforementioned monastery to submit her neck to the regular discipline; but her intent of good life and the form of religion, the ancient serpent attacked and, to tear her from paradise through the vice of transgression, stirred up in her the greed of gluttony, and she set herself to satisfy her hunger with stolen food — which crime she committed through seasons of time undetected, nor was it revealed to any of her companions. And when the greed of gluttony had long stained her soul, the just Judge gave a just sentence upon the unjust soul: He punished the gravest crime with a graver punishment, and over her wearied limbs raised up a loathing of lawful food, so that her troubled mind could eat nothing else than bran and leaves and a mixture of wild herbs. And when this vengeance had already remained for many days upon the soul deceived by transgression, and at the hour of refection she asked that the aforementioned food be brought her, she saw the shape of a great boar eating with her and in the manner of a muddy sow snorting over the food. Terrified, she asked what it was. The beast answered: “I am he. The food which you have eaten in transgression until now, I have eaten with you; and know that for the circuit of a year you shall have this food.” So the food remained through the turning year’s span, nor did she eat anything else than bran and leaves of trees or wild herbs and the dregs that are cast out from the remains of beer. For what was this — that a frail mind conscious of wretched transgression should be rebuked by the devil’s voice — except that the enormity of the present pains might not let her soul afterwards to be damned to torments? And the divine goodness willed to bring forth through him the reproaches of one consenting — through whom the transgression had been propagated — and to have him for an informer, to whose evil suggestions she had long obediently yielded when deceived; and after the pains laid on her, to learn that a creature owes obedience not to the devil but to the Creator.

³ Likewise another girl, named Beractrudis, when she had long lived in the aforementioned monastery and was in no wise taking care with all effort to keep the precepts of the regular discipline — the devil put it into her mind, corrupted by transgression, to steal whatever she could and eat it in secret. When she had long stained her soul by transgression, the just Judge gave just vengeance. She was seized with the fire of fever, and amid the burnings began to cry: “Woe is me!” and after these cries lay so stupefied that she was believed dead by all. And when after a long space of hours she gasped, she began to cry: “Let the mother come! let the mother come!” So those present ran with hasty step and called mother Burgundofara; and when she saw her, she revealed by confession the conjecture of all her deeds with all her intent. And when all present awaited the end of her life, she returned recovering; she remained some while longer in this life under the scourge of fever, and so at last ended her life.

[In the Bedan edition this spurious ending is added: After the aforementioned holy women, established under the rule of blessed Burgundofara, had put off this corruptible life by diverse and unequal merit of passing, as we have said, the venerable mother herself also, when she had worthily presided over the aforementioned monastery of Faremoutiers for many years, at last stricken with bodily infirmity closed her last day on the third of April, gathered to the companies of virgins who follow the Lamb wherever He gos — the heavenly spouse, our Lord Jesus Christ, who with the Father and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns God for ever and ever. Amen. HERE ENDS THE LIFE OF ST BURGUNDOFARA THE ABBESS.]

Chapter 23 — Of the life of Abbot Bertulf #

¹ How splendid are the memorials of the just, the order of doctors has striven through the vicissitudes of the ages to declare to posterity. Those things therefore which are known to have been wrought in our own times, we must not pass over in the slothful sleep of silence…

[Here the extracted text breaks off; the Vita Bertulfi itself follows in the edition.]