Honoré de Balzac,
Christ in Flanders
(1831)
“ Why art thou still alive? What doest thou in that beggar's garb, uncomely and desired of none? Where are thy riches?--for what were they spent? Where are thy treasures?--what great deeds hast thou done?"At this demand, the shriveled woman raised her bony form, flung off her rags, and grew tall and radiant, smiling as she broke forth from the dark chrysalid sheath. Then like a butterfly, this diaphanous creature emerged, fair and youthful, clothed in white linen, an Indian from creation issuing her palms. ”
