(86) But when the sweet water can defend itself no longer, then anguish riseth up in it; just as in man, when he is dying, when the spirit is departing from the body, and so the body yieldeth itself captive as a prisoner to death; just so the water also yieldeth itself captive as a prisoner.

(46) Now the Will or the Desiring in the Dryness cannot reach the Light; and therein consists the Anguish in the Will [Longing] after the Light; and the Anguish is attractive, and in the Attracting is the Woe, and the Woe makes the Anguish greater, so that the Anguish in the Harshness attracts much more, and this Attracting in the Woe is the bitter [Sting or] Prickle, or the Bitterness of the Woe; and the Anguish reaches after the [Sting or] Prickle with attracting, and yet cannot comprehend it, because it resists, and the more the Anguish attracts, the more the [Sting or] Prickle raves and rages.

(82) But the lover's love makes his body lean, While the beloved's love makes hers fair and lusty. When in this heart the lightning spark of love arises, When the love of God arises in thy heart, The noise of clapping of hands is never heard From one of thy hands unaided by the other hand The man athirst cries, "Where is delicious water?" Water too cries, "Where is the water-drinker?" This thirst in my soul is the attraction of the water; I am the water's and the water is mine.

(91) And then the sweet quality yieldeth to be taken captive, and so the bitter, the sour, the sweet and the astringent reign jointly together, and the sweet stretcheth itself a little forth, but it can escape no more, for it is captivated or caught.

(60) But if thou wouldst know how it is, behold, I will tell thee in a parable or similitude: When thou art pressed, according to the desire of thy heart, into riches and power, then it is with thee as if thou stoodst in a deep water, where the water always stands up to thy very mouth, and thou feelest no ground under thy feet, but thou swimmest with thy hands and strugglest to protect or save thyself; now thou art in deep water, now above water again, yet always in a great terror and danger, expecting to sink down to the bottom, the water often coming into thy mouth, and always expecting death.

(30) But the Sweetness is like Oil or Fire, wherein the Flash continually kindles itself, so that it shines: But the Oil being sweet, and mingled with the Matrix of the Water, therefore the shining Light is steady, [constant and fixed,] and sweet: But seeing it cannot, in the Nature of the Water, continue to be an Oil only (because of the Infection of the Water) therefore it becomes thick; and the [Nature or] Kind of the Fire colours it red; and this is the Blood and the Tincture in a Creature, wherein the noble Life stands. Of the Death and of the Dying. The Gate of Affliction and of Misery.

(25) There is also therein a raging, raving, stinging and burning, and that water is continually as a dying man, when body and soul are parting asunder, a most horrible anxiety, a woeful, painful birth or geniture.

(3) I saw one made in fashion of a lute, If he had only had the groin cut off Just at the point at which a man is forked. The heavy dropsy, that so disproportions The limbs with humours, which it ill concocts, That the face corresponds not to the belly, Compelled him so to hold his lips apart As does the hectic, who because of thirst One tow'rds the chin, the other upward turns. "O ye, who without any torment are, And why I know not, in the world of woe," He said to us, "behold, and be attentive Unto the misery of Master Adam; I had while living much of what I wished, And now, alas! a drop of water crave. The rivulets, that from the verdant hills Of Cassentin descend down into Arno, Making their channels to be cold and moist, Ever before me stand, and not in vain; For far more doth their image dry me up Than the disease which strips my face of flesh. The rigid justice that chastises me Draweth occasion from the place in which I sinned, to put the more my sighs in flight.

(149) There the bitter quality raveth and rageth, and seeketh for rest and food, and finds it not, and moveth or boileth in the body as a lingering poison.

(99) Then the water becometh an anguishing sweat, which stands between death and life, and so the fire of the heat cannot kindle itself: For the unctuosity or fatness is captivated in the cold fire, and so the whole body remaineth a dark valley, which stands in an anguishing birth or geniture, and cannot comprehend or reach the life. For the life which stands in the light cannot elevate itself in the hard, bitter and astringent body; for it is captivated in the cold fire, but not quite dead.

(11) For they work at their business, but we go about in hunger (and) in thirst, looking toward our dwelling-place, the place which our conduct and our conscience look toward, not clinging to the things which have come into being, but withdrawing from them. Our hearts are set on the things that exist, though we are ill (and) feeble (and) in pain. But there is a great strength hidden within us.

(21) In this chapter we have attempted, in some degree, to expound the greatness of man's soul. He who neglects it and suffers its capacities to rust or to degenerate must necessarily be the loser in this world and the next. The true greatness of man lies in his capacity for eternal progress, otherwise in this temporal sphere he is the weakest of all things, being subject to hunger, thirst, heat, cold, and sorrow. Those things he takes most delight in are often the most injurious to him, and those things which benefit him are not to be obtained without toil and trouble. As to his intellect, a slight disarrangement of matter in his brain is sufficient to destroy or madden him; as to his power, the sting of a wasp is sufficient to rob him of ease and sleep; as to his temper, he is upset by the loss of a sixpence; as to his beauty, he is little more than nauseous matter covered with a fair skin. Without frequent washing he becomes utterly repulsive and disgraceful.

(73) Only Man (who is proceeded out of another Principle) has in both those [forementioned] Principles, Woe, Misery, Sorrow, and Distress; for he is not in his native Country; and none of these two Principles can attain his native Country. Therefore the poor Soul must be thus plagued and tormented, that it may attain its native Country again; it must go again through the Gate of the deep Anguish of Death; it must break through two Kingdoms, and it sticks here between the Door and the Hinges, and is continually infected with those Things which keep it back and plague it; it sticks as it were in a Press.

(1) Men subdued by women's wiles. In this manner she pleaded with gentle coaxing, How could his firmness and endurance abide When even without tears she could charm his heart? That rain brought forth a flash of lightning Since the man was the slave of her fair face, How was it when she stooped to slavish entreaties? When she whose airs set thy heart a-quaking, When she weeps, how feelest thou then? When she whose coquetry makes thy heart bleed

(14) For this reason, then, we do not sleep, nor do we forget the nets that are spread out in hiding, lying in wait for us to catch us. For if we are caught in a single net, it will suck us down into its mouth, while the water flows over us, striking our face. And we will be taken down into the dragnet, and we will not be able to come up from it, because the waters are high over us, flowing from above downward, submerging our heart down in the filthy mud. And we will not be able to escape from them. For man-eaters will seize us and swallow us, rejoicing like a fisherman casting a hook into the water. For he casts many kinds of food into the water because each one of the fish has his own food. He smells it and pursues its odor. But when he eats it, the hook hidden within the food seizes him and brings him up by force out of the deep waters. No man is able, then, to catch that fish down in the deep waters, except for the trap that the fisherman sets. By the ruse of food he brought the fish up on the hook.

(89) But the body, which was first contracted or drawn together out of the sweet water, remaineth dead or mortal, and the sweat [or juice] of the body, which qualifieth, mixeth or uniteth with the astringent and bitter qualities, has the house therein, where it spreadeth itself forth, grows gross, full [fat] and lusty or wanton.

(5) Nor must a man be led astray by the ten thousand ensnarements. This happens if, after the quiet state has begun, one after another all sorts of ties suddenly appear. One wants to break through them and cannot; one follows them, and feels relieved by this. This means the master has become a servant. If a man tarries in this state long he enters the world of illusory desires.

(80) And the sweet quality always flies from the bitter and the astringent, and always stretcheth its palate wider, and the bitter and the astringent continually hasten after the sweet, and refresh themselves from the sweet, and dry up the body.

(30) "Nature, beholding the descent, wrapped herself about the Man whom she loved, and the two were mingled. For this reason, earthy man is composite. Within him is the Sky Man, immortal and beautiful; without is Nature, mortal and destructible. Thus, suffering is the result of the Immortal Man's falling in love with His shadow and giving up Reality to dwell in the darkness of illusion; for, being immortal, man has the power of the Seven Governors--also the Life, the Light, and the Word-but being mortal, he is controlled by the Rings of the Governors--Fate or Destiny.

(6) Beneath the water people are who sigh And make this water bubble at the surface, As the eye tells thee wheresoe'er it turns. Fixed in the mire they say, 'We sullen were In the sweet air, which by the sun is gladdened, Bearing within ourselves the sluggish reek; Now we are sullen in this sable mire.' This hymn do they keep gurgling in their throats, For with unbroken words they cannot say it." Thus we went circling round the filthy fen A great arc 'twixt the dry bank and the swamp, With eyes turned unto those who gorge the mire; Unto the foot of a tower we came at last.