Pastoral Rule, Dialogues & Letters 111

Concerning which matter neither will I be silent about what Probus, the servant of almighty God, who now presides over the monastery in this city that is called 'of Renatus,' used to relate to me about Probus, his uncle, bishop of the city of Rieti, saying that, as the term of his life drew near, a most grievous sickness weighed him down. His father, Maximus by name, sending boys round about, took pains to gather physicians, if perchance he might be able to relieve his distress. But the physicians, assembled from the neighboring places on every side, on touching the vein, declared that his end would very soon be at hand.

But when the time of refreshment now pressed on, and the hour of the day had grown late, the venerable bishop, more solicitous for them than for his own well-being, admonished those who were present to go up with his father into the upper parts of his episcopal house, and to restore themselves by taking food after their labor. All therefore went up to the house, and only one little boy was left with him, whom the aforesaid Probus even now asserts to be surviving. As this boy attended the bed of him who lay there, he suddenly beheld certain men, clad in white robes, entering in to the man of God, who by the very whiteness of their garments were surpassed by the light of their countenances. Struck by the very brightness of this splendor, he began with uttered voice to cry out, asking who these might be.

Moved also by that voice, Bishop Probus beheld them entering and recognized them, and began to console that same astonished and wailing boy, saying: 'Fear not, my son, for the holy martyrs Juvenal and Eleutherius have come to me.' But he, not bearing the novelty of so great a vision, fled outside the doors with hurried course, and announced to the father and the physicians those whom he had seen. They came down in haste; but the sick man whom they had left they found already dead, because those had borne him away with them whose vision the boy, who remained here, was not able to bear. Meanwhile, neither do I judge that this should be passed over in silence, which has been made known to me by the account of grave and faithful persons.

For in the times of the Goths, Galla, a most noble maiden of this city, daughter of Symmachus the consul and patrician, given in marriage within the years of adolescence, was within the space of one year widowed by his death. When both wealth and age, the world's abundance being fervent, called her to a second marriage-chamber, she chose rather to be joined in spiritual nuptials to God—in which one begins with mourning but attains to eternal joys—than to be subjected to carnal nuptials, which always begin with gladness and tend to their end with mourning. But since a very fiery constitution of body was in her, the physicians began to say that unless she withdrew from the embraces of men, she would, from excessive heat, contrary to nature, come to have a beard—which afterward also so came to pass.

But the holy woman feared nothing of outward deformity, she who loved the beauty of her inward Bridegroom, nor was she afraid lest this be defiled in her which was not loved in her by her heavenly Bridegroom. Presently, then, as soon as her husband had died, casting off her secular garb, she gave herself over for the service of almighty God at the church of the blessed apostle Peter in a monastery, and there, for many years devoted to simplicity of heart and to prayer, she bestowed generous works of alms upon the needy. And when almighty God had determined now to render everlasting reward to her labors, she was struck with the ulcer of a cancer in the breast.

Now in the nighttime two candlesticks were wont to burn before her bed, because indeed, being a lover of light, she hated with hatred not only spiritual but also bodily darkness. And as one night she lay wearied by this same infirmity, she saw the blessed apostle Peter standing between both candlesticks before her bed; and, not terrified, she did not fear, but taking boldness from love she exulted, and said to him: 'What is it, my Lord? Are my sins forgiven me?' To whom he, most kindly as is his countenance, nodded with bowed head, saying: 'They are forgiven; come.' But because she loved a certain nun in that same monastery above the others, Galla straightway added: 'I beg that Sister Benedicta may come with me.'

To whom he answered: 'No, but let such a one come with you; but this one whom you ask shall follow on the thirtieth day.' These things being accomplished, the vision of the apostle standing by and speaking with her was taken away. But she at once summoned the Mother of the whole congregation, and made known to her what she had seen and what she had heard. On the third day she died with that sister who had been commanded; but she whom she herself had asked for followed on the thirtieth day. Which deed remains memorable to this day in that same monastery, and thus, handed down from the preceding Mothers, the younger ones who are now holy virgin nuns are wont to relate it there in detail, as though they themselves had been present at this so great a miracle at that time.