(168) O thou lying devil, stay but a little, the spirit will discover thy shame to thee; tarry but a little while longer, and thy pomp, pride and pageantry will be at an end. Stay, the bow is bent, the arrow will hit thee, and then whither wilt thou fall? The place is ready provided and prepared, it wanteth only to be kindled; wilt thou bring fuel lustily to it, that thou be not frozen with cold? Thou wilt sweat very hard: Dost thou suppose thou shalt obtain the light again? No, but hell fire. Smell thy sweet love, guess at it, what is that called? Gehenna; yes, that will be in love with thee eternally.

(4) When the body is dragged hither and thither by vultures lusting for meat, why is it powerless to save itself? Why dost thou watch over this frame, O my spirit, as if it were thine own? if it is a thing apart from thee, what canst thou lose thereby? Silly one, what thou claimest as thine is not as clean as a wooden doll; why dost thou cling to this rotten machine framed in foulness? Lift in thy imagination this envelope of skin, and with the scalpel of wisdom remove the flesh from the frame of bones. Open likewise the bones, and look upon the marrow within them. Then ask thyself what essential thing is therein. And now that thou hast made diligent search and found therein nothing essential, say wherefore thou still clingest to the body. Thou canst not eat its impurities and entrails, nor drink its blood; what wilt thou do with the body? This poor flesh, which thou guardest in order to feed vultures, jackals, and the like, is fitted only to be a tool for men's works. Though thou guardest it thus, pitiless Death will tear away the body and give it to the vultures; and then what wilt thou do? To a servant who will not remain, gifts of garments and the like are not given; when it has eaten, the body will depart, then why waste thy riches upon it? Pay to it its wage, then set thy thought upon thine own business; for we give not to the hireling all that he may earn. Conceive of the body as a ship that travels to and fro, and make it go at thy bidding for creatures to fulfil their end.

(16) "Shame upon thee, O soul, for thy overweening love of the world! If thou dost not believe in heaven or hell, at any rate thou believest in death, which will snatch from thee all worldly delights and cause thee to feel the pangs of separation from them, which will be intenser just in proportion as thou hast attached thyself to them. Why art thou mad after the world? If the whole of it, from East to West, were thine and worshipped thee, yet it would all, in a brief space, turn to dust along with thyself, and oblivion would blot out thy name, as those of ancient kings before thee. But now, seeing thou hast only a very small fragment of the world, and that a defiled one, wilt thou be so mad as to barter eternal joy for it, a precious jewel for a broken cup of earthenware, and make thyself the laughingstock of all around them?"

(8) The desires beget harm in this world and beyond: here, by bondage, slaughter, and loss of limb; beyond, in hell. That for the sake of which thou hast bowed many a time before bawds, heeding not sin nor infamy, and cast thyself into peril and wasted thy substance, that which by its embrace has brought thee supreme delight — it is naught but bones, now free and unpossessed; wilt thou not take thy fill of embraces now, and delight thyself? This was the face that erstwhile turned downwards in modesty and was unwilling to look up, hidden behind a veil whether eyes gazed upon it or gazed not; and this face now the vultures unveil to thee, as though they could not bear thy impatience. Look on it — why dost thou flee now from it?...

(46) And though thy body may suffer pain, yet it is much worse with him when he is vanquished, for then he roareth like a lion that is robbed of her young whelps, for the fierceness and wrath of God tormenteth him; but if thou lettest him lodge within thee, then he grows fat and wanton, and will vanquish thee in time.

(169) Woe, woe, poor miserable blinded man, why sufferest thou the devil to make thy body and soul so dark and blind? O temporal good, and the pleasure and voluptuousness of this life! thou blind whore, why dost thou go a wooing and a whoring to the devil?

(34) The lover's love is visible, his Beloved hidden. The Friend is absent, the distraction he causes present. Renounce these affections for outward forms, Whatever is beloved is not a mere empty form, Whatever be the form you have fallen in love with, Why do you forsake it the moment life leaves it? The form is still there; whence, then, this disgust at it? Ah! lover, consider well what is really your beloved. If a thing perceived by outward senses is the beloved, Then all who retain their senses must still love it; And since love increases constancy,

(95) For thy vessel the beasts of the Earth shalt in habit.

(173) O thou blind man! how does the devil mock at thee? O, wherefore dost thou trouble heaven? Dost thou think thou wilt not have enough in this world? O blind man! is not heaven and earth thine? Nay, God himself too? What dost thou bring into this world, or what dost thou take along with thee at thy going out of it? Thou bringest an angelical garment into this world, and with thy wicked life thou turnest it into a devil's mask or vizor.

(4) So did Forese let the holy flock Pass by, and came with me behind it, saying, "When will it be that I again shall see thee?" "How long," I answered, "I may live, I know not; Yet my return will not so speedy be, But I shall sooner in desire arrive; Because the place where I was set to live From day to day of good is more depleted, And unto dismal ruin seems ordained." "Now go," he said, "for him most guilty of it At a beast's tail behold I dragged along Towards the valley where is no repentance. Faster at every step the beast is going, Increasing evermore until it smites him, And leaves the body vilely mutilated. Not long those wheels shall turn," and he uplifted His eyes to heaven, "ere shall be clear to thee That which my speech no farther can declare. Now stay behind; because the time so precious Is in this kingdom, that I lose too much By coming onward thus abreast with thee." As sometimes issues forth upon a gallop A cavalier from out a troop that ride, And seeks the honour of the first encounter,