At that moment the white stone pulpit against the rock on the right of
the Grotto was occupied by a priest from Toulouse, whom Berthaud knew,
and to whom he listened for a moment with an air of approval. He was a
stout man with an unctuous diction, famous for his rhetorical successes.
However, all eloquence here consisted in displaying the strength of one's
lungs in a violent delivery of the phrase or cry which the whole crowd
had to repeat; for the addresses were nothing more than so much
vociferation interspersed with "Ayes" and "Paters."
The priest, who had just finished the Rosary, strove to increase his
stature by stretching his short legs, whilst shouting the first appeal of
the litanies which he improvised, and led in his own way, according to
the inspiration which possessed him.
"Mary, we love thee!" he called.
And thereupon the crowd repeated in a lower, confused, and broken tone:
"Mary, we love thee!"
From that moment there was no stopping. The voice of the priest rang out
at full swing, and the voices of the crowd responded in a dolorous
murmur:
"Mary, thou art our only hope!"
"Mary, thou art our only hope!"
"Pure Virgin, make us purer, among the pure!"
"Pure Virgin, make us purer, among the pure!"
"Powerful Virgin, save our sick!"
"Powerful Virgin, save our sick!"
Often, when the priest's imagination failed him, or he wished to thrust a
cry home with greater force, he would repeat it thrice; while the docile
crowd would do the same, quivering under the enervating effect of the
persistent lamentation, which increased the fever.
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