⁴²A barely seven-year-old son of a notary of the city of Rome wanted in his childish way to follow his mother who was going to the church of San Marco^a to hear a preacher. He was turned back by his mother and her refusal upset him. By some diabolical impulse—I do not know why—he threw himself from the window of the building and, shaking with a last tremor, he came to know the passing of death, the common lot of all. The mother had not gone far, and the sound of someone falling made her suspect the fall of her treasure. She quickly returned home and saw her son lifeless. She turned avenging hands on herself; her neighbors rushed out at her screams; and doctors were called to the dead boy. But could theyraise the dead? The time for prognoses and prescriptions was past. He was in the hands of God: that much the doctors could determine, but could not help. Since all warmth and life were gone, all feeling, movement and strength, the doctors determined he was dead.

Brother Rao, of the Order of Lesser Brothers and a well-known preacher in Rome, was on his way to preach there. He approached the boy and, full of faith, spoke to the father. "Do you believe that Francis, the saint of God, is able to raise your son from the dead because of the love he always had for the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ?"The father replied, "I firmly believe and confess it. I will be his lasting servant, and I will regularly visit his holy place." That brother knelt with his companion in prayer and urged all those present to pray. With that the boy began to yawn a little, lift his arms and sit up. His mother ran and embraced her son; the father was beside himself for joy. All the people, filled with wonder, marveled and, shouting, praised Christ and His saint. In the sight of all the boy immediately began walking, restored to full life.

⁴³The brothers of Nocera asked a man named Peter for a certain cart that they needed for a short time. He foolishly replied, "I would rather skin the two of you, and Saint Francis too, rather than loan you a cart." The man immediately regretted his blasphemous words, slapped his mouth, and asked forgiveness. He feared revenge, and it came soon after.

At night he saw in a dream his home full of men and women dancing with loud jubilation. His son, named Gafaro, soon took sick and shortly afterwards gave up his spirit. The dances he had seen were turned into a funeral's mourning, and the jubilation to lament. He recalled the blasphemy he had uttered against Saint Francis. His punishment showed how serious was his fault. He rolled about on

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