and drink of those fountains which are hidden in the desert, and which gush forth to heaven. Careworn soul, come, and possess that which thou desirest! Heart greedy for joy, come and taste true joys — poverty, retirement, self-forgetfulness, seclusion in the bosom of God. Enemy of Christ now, and tomorrow His well-beloved, come to Him! Come, thou whom I have sought, and thou wilt say, 'I have found love!'"
Thaïs seemed lost in meditation on things afar.
"Monk," she asked, "if I abjure all pleasures and do penance, is it true that I shall be born again in heaven, my body intact in all its beauty?"
"Thaïs, I bring thee eternal life. Believe me, for that which I announce to thee is the truth."
"Who will assure me that it is the truth?"
"David and the prophets, the Scriptures, and the wonders that thou shalt behold."
"Monk, I should like to believe you, for I must confess that I have not found happiness in this world. My lot in life is better than that of a queen, and yet I have many bitternesses and misfortunes, and I am infinitely weary of my existence. All women envy me, and yet sometimes I have envied the lot of a toothless old woman who, when I was a child, sold honey-cakes under one of the city gates. Often has the idea flashed across my mind that only the poor are good, happy, and blessed, and that there must be
