His cope was covered with
figures embroidered and painted so beautifully no craftsman in all the
world could have wrought their like.

Amongst the rest he was depicted himself, in silk and gold, under the
guise of a St. George and a St. Sebastian, as also under that of a
Virgin St. Catherine and the Empress Helena. The loveliness of the
faces troubled the mind and saddened the heart. The garment was truly of
a wondrous workmanship, and nothing so rich and rare is to be seen in
the Treasuries of Churches.

Thus decked in cope and mitre, and majestic as St. Ambrose, the glory of
Milan, Satan pursued his way, leaning on his crozier, over the flowery
plain.

Presently nearing the holy man, he hailed him and said:

"Peace be with you!"

But he said not of what sort this peace was; and Fra Giovanni supposed
it was the peace of the Lord. He thought to himself:

"This Bishop, who gives me the salutation of peace, was doubtless in his
lifetime a sainted Pontiff and a blessed Martyr unshakable in his
constancy. That is why Jesus Christ has changed the wooden cross to a
golden in the hands of this gallant Confessor of the Faith. To-day he is
powerful in Heaven; and lo! after his holy and happy death, he walks in
these meadows that are painted with flowers and broidered with pearls of
dew."

Such were the good Giovanni's thoughts, and he was in no wise abashed.
So saluting Satan with a deep reverence, he said:

"Sir! you are exceeding gracious to appear to a poor man such as I. But
indeed these meadows are so lovely, 'tis no wonder if the Saints of
Paradise come to walk here; they are painted with flowers and broidered
with pearls of dew. The Lord did very kindly when he made them."

And Satan said to him:

"It is not the meadows, it is your heart I am fain to look at; I have
come down from the Mountain to speak with you. I have, in bygone
Centuries, held many high disputations in the Church. Amid the assembled
Doctors my voice would boom forth like thunder, and my thoughts flash
like lightning. I am very learned, and they name me the Subtle Doctor. I
have disputed with God's Angels. Now I would hold dispute with you."

Fra Giovanni made answer:

"Nay! but how should the poor little man that I am hold dispute with the
Subtle Doctor? I know nothing, and my simplicity is such I can keep
nothing in my head but those songs in the vulgar tongue where they have
stuck in rhymes to help the memory, as in

'Jesus, mirror