Then
was the moment for a painter to have seized on the face and form of
Isabella! Her eye flashed till its very color was undistinguishable,
her lip curled, every feature--usually so mild and feminine--was so
transformed by indignation into majesty and unutterable scorn as
scarcely to have been recognized. Her slight and graceful form dilated
till the very boldest cowered before her, even before she spoke; for
never had they so encountered her reproof:--
"Are ye women?" she said at length, in the quiet, concentrated tone of
strong emotion; "or are we deceived as to the meaning of your words?
Pollution! Are we to see a young, unhappy being perish for want of
sympathy and succor, because--forsooth--she is a Jewess? Danger to our
soul! We should indeed fear it; did we leave her to die, without one
effort to restore health to the frame, and the peace of Christ to the
mind! Has every spark of woman's nature faded from your hearts, that
ye can speak thus? If for yourselves you fear, tend her not, approach
her not--we will ourselves give her the aid she needs. And as for
thee," she continued severely, as she forced the now trembling
Catherine to stand upright before her, "whose energy to serve Marie
we loved and applauded; child as thou art, must thou too speak of
pollution? but example may have done this.
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