On a certain day, however,—­and here he begins his own story,—­in the Church of St. Peter, as he sat listening to the harmony of the morning service, drowsiness overcame him, and he fell asleep.[G] As he was sleeping, a very beautiful maiden of virginal aspect, and in a rich dress, stood before him, and, looking at him, said,—­“We return thee many thanks; but why without cause, trusting to false reports, hast thou given up the search for me?  Thou hast been so near me that we might have spoken together.”

[Footnote G:  “Quadam die, dum ante Confessionem Beati Petri Apostoli psallentium matutinali lucescente Dominica residentes observaremus harmoniam, sopore in aliquo corporis fragilitatem aggravaute.”—­Paschalis Papae Diploma, as quoted in L’Histoire de Sainte Cecile, par l’Abbe Gueranger.  The simplicity of the old Pope’s story is wofully hurt by the grandiloquence of the French Abbe:  “Le Pontife ecoutait avec delices l’harmonie des Cantiques que l’Eglise fait monter vers le Seigneur au lever du jour.  Un assoupissement produit par la fatigue des veilles saintes vient le saisir sur le siege meme ou il presidait dans la majeste apostolique,” etc., etc., etc., ad nauseam.]

The Pope, as if hurt by her rebuke, and doubtful of his vision, then asked the name of her who thus addressed him.

“If thou seekest my name,” she said, “I am called Cecilia, the handmaiden of Christ.”

“How can I believe this,” replied the sleeping Pope, “since it was long ago reported that the body of this most holy martyr was carried away by the Lombards?”

The Saint then told him that till this time her body had remained concealed; but that now he must continue his search, for it pleased God to reveal it to him; and near her body he would also find other bodies of saints to be placed with hers in her new-built church.  And saying this, she departed.

Hereupon a new search was begun, and shortly after, “by the favor of God, we found her in golden garments, and the cloths with which her sacred blood had been wiped from her wounds we found rolled up and full of blood at the feet of the blessed virgin.”

At the same time, the bodies of Valerian, Tiburtius, and Maximus were found in a neighboring cemetery, and, together with the relics of Pope Urban,—­as well as the body of St. Cecilia,—­were placed under the high altar of her church.[H] The cypress coffin in which she had been reverently laid at the time of her death was preserved and set within a marble sarcophagus.  No expense was spared by the devout Paschal to adorn the church that had been so signally favored.  All the Art of the time (and at that time the arts flourished only in the service of the Church) was called upon to assist in making the new basilica magnificent.  The mosaics which were set up to adorn the apse and the arch of triumph were among the best works of the century, and, with colors still brilliant and design still unimpaired, they hold their place at the present day, and carry back the thought and the imagination of the beholder a thousand years into the very heart of this old story.  Under the great mosaic of the apse one may still read the inscription, in the rude Latin of the century, which tells of Paschal’s zeal and Rome’s joy, closing with the line,