Tractatus Prior, Pars Altera, Cap. 11. Quomodo Dominus lesus fuit ab Herode despectus.

Tractatus Prior, Pars Altera, Cap. 11. Quomodo Dominus lesus fuit ab Herode despectus.

I bless you and give thanks to you, Lord Jesus Christ, eternal wisdom of the Father, supreme truth and infinite virtue of God, for that shameful contempt and bitter mockery by which you were despised and mocked by Herod and his army. Herod, indeed, had long desired to see you and was led by curiosity to hope for some sign to be performed. But when you didn't answer him regarding the voice of the inquiry, nor show a sign that would have been useful at that time, because it was the hour for suffering, not for performing signs, you were soon moved away from your reverence and, thinking him foolish, you scorned him with an elevated mind, and in a white garment you mocked him and sent him back to Pilate. I praise and honor you, illustrious Jesus, for the great hardships and relentless trials you endured as you were led through the streets and alleys of Jerusalem from place to place, from judge to judge, with derisive shouts, accused everywhere, slandered everywhere, and after many questions and long examinations, you were brought to the cross. What a singular patience shone in you during this time, which did not yield to such great temptations of illusion. This remembrance of your public humiliation deeply pierces a hardened heart, softening anger and stirring devotion to lament. Behold, you, O most high God, humble yourself as the lowest; you, the most powerful of all, are rejected as the most miserable; you, the wisest of all, are mocked as the most foolish; you, the most innocent of all, are judged as the most wicked. Woe to me, an unfortunate sinner, weighed down by a heavy burden of evils: I am deserving of eternal punishment because of my own actions. I beseech you, holy and just God, who have not refused to be mocked and despised, to free me from the deception of demons and from eternal death. I beg you, most virtuous Jesus, whom no harshness could provoke nor contempt diminish, to cut away from me every vain and curious distraction from outside, and help me learn to be content with a humble estimation of myself, since it is shameful for dust and ashes to seek beauty or softness in clothing, when you, King of Heaven, were despised in a white garment. Place before my eyes your reproach and derision, and teach me to follow you along the path of contempt, rejoicing in my own scorn. Let me not be swayed by the praise of men or the power of the world, nor by the influence of friends, but with all my heart let me despise all earthly things and their lovers. Instead, may I follow you, Lord Jesus, the author of my salvation, with unwavering constancy, and keep in mind the many insults you endured for me, an unworthy one, always remembering them.