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Updated: May 8, 2025
He pronounces other two prayers or thanksgivings, blesses the people, and dismisses them with the formula, “Ite, missa est,” “Go, the mass is over.” Still, however, he continues to read, on ordinary days, in the first chapter of St John’s Gospel, or, on other solemn days, from the other evangelists. All this is accompanied with various ceremonies, genuflections, and changes of position.
My visitor took the old volume and ran his finger down the leaf, then up, then turned back a page. "Perhaps this may explain it," said he. "Ite deliued Mr. Beuill to make puision for the companie of a fforeste barke yt came ashoare iiis ivd." He broke off, with a finger on the entry, and rose. "Pray forgive me, sir; I had taken your chair."
I was taking my third lesson, and I had printed, "I Amm 5w writjng This, 5wjth my own lilly w?ite handS," when I heard the Kid saying: "You can beat the game this way. Let John buy you a ticket to the Piraeus. If you go from one Greek port to another you don't need a vise. But, if you book from here to Italy, you must get a permit from the Italian consul, and our consul, and the police.
He besought from Heaven the forgiveness of his sins, the grace of a holy life, and the reward of everlasting life. He remained as if overwhelmed by this miracle of love, the ever-recurring immolation, which sustained him day by day with the blood and flesh of his Savior. Having read the final prayers, he turned and said: 'Ite, missa est. 'Deo gratias, answered Vincent.
But at heart all these good folks, who themselves are thinking about feasting, are not sorry that the mass is going on at this post haste; and when Dom Balaguère with radiant face turns towards those present and cries with all his might: “Ite, missa est,” they all respond to him a “Deo gratias” in but one voice, and that as joyous and enthusiastic, as if they thought themselves already seated at the midnight repast and drinking the first toast.
There was a silence when their voices died away, and from the altar a deep voice slowly chanted "Ite; missa est," and the High Mass of the First Communion Day was over. Outside, little country carts stood near the church, and fathers and brothers in blue blouses were waiting for the little communicants who had had so long and so exciting a morning.
Then the mass was celebrated, and at the end of each part the words "Hin han" were chanted in imitation of the braying of the beast. The officiating priest, instead of chanting the "Ite missa est," invited the congregation to join in imitating the bray. This simple procession in time developed into a much more pretentious liturgical drama called "The Prophets of Christ."
Paul's. Thinking of last week at Beaulieu, Ambrose knelt meantime with his head buried in his hands, in an absorption of feeling that was not perhaps wholly devout, but which at any rate looked more like devotion than the demeanour of any one around. When the Ite missa est was pronounced, and all rose up, Stephen touched him and he rose, looking about, bewildered.
The clock, in its wooden case, made a whirring noise, as though it were some consumptive trying to clear his throat, and then huskily struck half-past six. 'Ite, missa est, said the priest, turning round to the congregation. 'Deo gratias, responded Vincent.
Yes, and Florida, blossoming and leafy Florida, yet warm with the life-blood of Osceola and his warriors, shed gloriously under flag of truce. Why should a patriot of such a fancy for nature immure himself in the cells of the city, and forego such an inviting and so broad a landscape? Ite viator. Go forth, traveller, and leave this mouldy editing to less elastic fancies.
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