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Qui vivis et regnas in sæcula sæculorum. The golden monstrance gleamed as it was raised on high, those who were praying bowed low, blissful harmonies floated under the high arched dome, ever more and more beautiful more and more softly. His eyelids closed. And he saw Cilia as fresh, as beautiful as life itself. Oh, how very beautiful. Surely she had not looked like that before?
Blessed harmonies floated under the high, arched dome: "Procedenti ab utroque Compar sit laudatio " They had sung something like that. And then the priest had raised the gleaming monstrance on high, and all the people had bowed deeply: Qui vivis et regnas in sæcula sæculorum. Yes, he had remembered that Latin well. He would never forget it all his life.
After all the praises lavished on her for centuries by so many of her illustrious children, it was left for this foreigner, in the age of her decay, to pay her the most complete and most splendid eulogy: Quod regnas minus est quam quod regnare mereris; Excedis factis grandia fata tuis: Nam solis radiis aequalia munera tendis, Qua circumfusus fluctuat oceanus.
And the young girl gazed with pity as the remains of the Marquis de Ligne, her father, were borne by. Qui vivis et regnas. Glorificamus te. Longer and longer trailed the shadow of a tall tombstone until, as the sun went down, it merged into the general twilight like a life lengthening out and out and finally blending in restful darkness.
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