radiant light, that here lies a noble, shattered instrument of God.
Makrina.
Ay, truly, a dear and dear-bought instrument.
Basil.
Christ, Christ—how came it that thy people saw not thy manifest design? The Emperor Julian was a rod of chastisement,—not unto death, but unto resurrection.
Makrina.
Terrible is the mystery of election. How know we?
Basil.
Is it not written: "Some vessels are fashioned to honour, and some to dishonour"?
Makrina.
Oh brother, let us not seek to fathom that abyss.
[She bends over the body and covers the face.
Erring soul of man—if thou wast indeed forced to err, it shall surely be accounted to thee for good on that great day when the Mighty One shall descend in the clouds to judge the living dead and the dead who are yet alive!
THE END.
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