THAIS. Holy father, do not leave me. Be near to comfort me in this hour of my death.
PAPHNUTIUS. I will not leave you, Thais, until your soul has taken flight to the stars, and I have buried your body.
THAIS. I feel the end is near. Brother, do not leave me!
PAPHNUTIUS. Now is the time to pray.
THAIS. O God Who made me, pity me! Grant that the soul which Thou didst breathe into me may now happily return to Thee. O God Who made me, pity me!
PAPHNUTIUS. Thais! Thais! Oh, loving humble spirit, pass to thy glory! . . . Angels lead her into Paradise! . . . O uncreated Beauty, existing in Truth without material form, grant that the divers parts of this human body now to be dissolved may return to their original elements! Grant that the soul, given from on high, may soar into light and joy, and that the body may be cherished peacefully in the soft lap of the earth until that day when, the ashes being brought together again, and the life-giving sap restored to the veins, this same Thais may rise again, a perfect human being as before, and take her place among the glorious white flock who shall be led into the joy of eternity! Grant this, O Thou Who alone art what Thou art—Who livest and reignest and art glorious in the Unity and perfect Trinity through infinite ages!