Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - VII. Beatrice
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mountains to the Danube. There the railway
ends, and I traverse the Danube plain, which
extends to Grein, in a carriage. We pass
between orchards of apple and pear trees,
cornfields and green meadows. At last, on a hill
on the other side of the river, I discover the
little church in which I never was, but which
I know well as the central point of the landscape
which extends before the house where my child
was born. It is now two years since that
unforgettable month of May. I pass through
villages and convents; along the road there rise
innumerable penitential chapels, hills crowned
with crucifixes, votive pictures, monuments,
reminding one of accidents and sudden deaths by
lightning, and in other ways. At the end of
my pilgrimage there certainly await me the
twelve stations of the Cross. Every hundred
paces the Crucified meets me with His crown
of thorns, and instils into me courage to bear
scourging and crucifixion. I painfully convince
myself beforehand, that she, as I might
have known, will not be there. Now, since my
wife can no more divert the domestic storm, I
must expect tit-for-tat from the old parents,
whom I left under unpleasant circumstances,
though against my will. I come accordingly for
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