It was that look of abnegation upon her that he remembered.
"I shall not rise nor speak again, dear son of Varro," said she.

"You shall know that my love for you has made me strong.

See, dear love.
Look at my face and see how brave I am." Her voice, now calm, had in it some power that touched him deeply.

It was the great, new love between men and women---forerunner of the mighty revolution.
He stood silent, looking down at her.

The song of a nightingale rang in the great halls.