Le Miroir de l'âme pécheresse
The Abyss of Sin and the Light of Grace
The soul confesses its profound corruption and inability to save itself, finding hope only in the illuminating grace of God.
Lord God, create in me a clean heart.✦ Where is Hell, completely filled with every misery, toil, pain, and torment? Where is the pit of damnation, from which despair pours out without end?1 Is there any abyss of evil so deep that it would be enough to punish even a tenth of my sins, which are so many that infinity makes their shadow so dark I can neither count them nor see them clearly?2 For I have gone too far with them. And what's worse, I don't even have the power to truly know a single one of them. I clearly feel within myself that I have the root of it, and outwardly I see no effect or sign that isn't all branch, flower, leaf, and fruit—everything it produces all around me.3 If I try to look more carefully, a branch comes and shuts my eyes; when I want to speak, the fruit falls into my mouth—far too bitter to swallow. If my spirit wakes to listen, leaves pour into my ear by the heap; and my nose, too, is completely blocked with flowers. See how, in pain, cries, and tears, my wretched soul lies on the ground without light or brightness—a slave and prisoner, its feet bound by disordered desire, and both arms by habit.4 The power of the remedy isn't in me; I don't have the strength to cry out properly for help. In short, forever, as far as I can see, I must have no hope of any end. But his grace—which I cannot deserve, and which can raise everyone from death—lights my darkness with its brightness; and his power, which examines my fault, completely tearing away the veil of ignorance, gives me truly clear understanding of what I am, of what dwells in me, of where I am, of why I labor, of who he is whom I have offended, and for whom I have thought so little of serving.5 So my pride must be brought low, and I must humbly, in tears, confess that as for me I am far less than nothing: mud before life, and dung after it; a body full of every readiness to do evil, with no desire for any other pursuit; subject to evil, trouble, pain, and suffering; life very short, and the end uncertain; sold under sin through Adam, and by the Law judged to be hanged.6 In truth, I have never managed to keep even a single commandment in my life. In myself I feel the force of sin—and my evil of remaining hidden is no less. The more it conceals and disguises itself outwardly, the more it gathers and piles up deep in the heart. What God wants, I cannot will; what he does not want, I often long to have. And that forces me, by unbearable distress from this troublesome, miserable body of death, to long to see the end so greatly desired, life extinguished and longed for.✦7
The Divine Initiative of Love
The soul marvels at God's prevenient mercy and the unmerited love that rescues it from its self-inflicted captivity.
Who will deliver me, and who will restore such a good to me? Alas! It can't be a mortal man, for their power and knowledge aren't equal to it. No—it will be only the good grace of the Almighty, who never grows weary, through Jesus Christ, of whom he is mindful, going before us with his mercy.89 Alas! What a Master! Without my having deserved any good from him—I've only served him poorly and offended him without cease every day—he doesn't linger long in coming to my aid.10 He sees the evil I carry—what kind it is and how great—and that of myself I can't do any good; but heart and body so inclined the other way that I feel no power except for doing wrong. He doesn't wait for me to pray to him humbly, or for me, seeing my hell, to cry out to him: through his Spirit he makes a groan in my heart, unspeakably great, and petitions for the gift whose knowledge is unknown to my weak power.✦11 Then, suddenly, this unknown sigh stirs a completely new desire in me, showing me the good I lost through my sin—a good that is restored and given back to me by his grace and goodness, which has conquered and subdued every sin. O my Lord, and what is that grace—what is this good that wipes away so many evils? You are so full of love to do me such a noble favor. Alas! My God, I wasn't seeking You—I was fleeing You, running hard and fast. And yet You came down here to me, to me, a naked worm of the earth. What am I saying—a worm?✦12 I wrong that worm too much by comparing it to me, who am so infamous and false to my oath, filled with pride by worldly reasoning, with falsehood, malice, and betrayal.13 I have broken, denied, and falsified what my friends promised at my baptism, and what I have since confirmed myself—which is to feel the mortification of your Passion in me without end, and to stay always with you on the cross, where I believe you have nailed and put to death both Death and every sin that I have so often taken up again and torn loose. I have raised my will so high through a reckless pride that I completely forgot my duty and obligation out of laziness.✦✦1415 And what’s more, I have treated the good of the promise I received from you on the day of my baptism, and your love, in the same way. What can I say? Even though you often came out ahead of my misfortune, giving me so many warnings through the word, through Faith, through the sacraments—admonishing me by preaching, consoling me by the reception of your most worthy Body and sacred Blood, promising to restore me to the rank of the blessed in perfect innocence. I have cast all these gifts into forgetfulness. I have often broken my promise to you, for my poor soul was too full of bad bread and damnable doctrine, despising help and medicine. And even if I had also wanted to seek it, I know of no one I could have called on—for there is no man, nor saint, nor angel through whom a sinner's heart is ever changed.16 Alas! good Jesus, seeing my blindness, and that I can get no help in my need from any creature, you have opened the way to my salvation.17 What goodness—but what great sweetness! Is there a father for a daughter, or a brother for a sister, who would ever have been willing to do such a thing, no matter how gentle, compassionate, and kind he might be: to come rescue my soul from hell, where it wanted to perish against you?18 Without loving you, alas!19 you have loved her.✦20 O charity!21 Burning and aflame—you are not cold or half-hearted in love, you who love everyone, even your enemies; you are not only willing to forgive them their grievous offense, but to give yourself for their salvation, freedom, and deliverance, to death and the cross, to toil, pain, and suffering.✦✦2223 When I consider your reasons for loving me, I see nothing but love itself—a love that moves you, of your own accord, to give me what I don't deserve.24 So then, my God, as far as I can see, I must give the credit for my salvation to no one but you alone, to whom I owe the honor for it, as to my God, Savior, and Creator.25 But what is this? You do so much for me, and yet you're not content with having pardoned my sins, and, what's more, with the gift of grace.26
Spiritual Kinship: Daughter, Sister, and Bride
The soul explores the intimate titles God bestows upon it, reflecting on the mystery of being called daughter, sister, and bride of Christ.
It would have been enough, after escaping such danger, simply to treat me as a stranger. But treat my soul as sister and mother (if I dare say it), and likewise as bride.27 I, my Lord—I, who am not worthy to ask for bread, or even to come near the door of the most high place where you dwell! And what is this? To suddenly, in this very hour, deign to draw my soul up to such a height that she feels herself mistress of my body! She, poor little one, ignorant and powerless, feels herself rich, wise, and powerful in you, because you have written on her heart the roll of your Spirit and sacred Word, giving her faith to receive it—faith that has made her conceive your Son; believing him man, God, and Savior, the true restorer of foolish sinners.28 So deign to reassure her that she is Mother of your Son, of whom you alone are Father. And what is more, my God—here is a great wonder: you never tire of doing good. When your Son, full of divinity, took on the body of our humanity and mixed himself with our dust—something no one without Faith could understand—it pleased you to bring him so near to us that he united himself with our flesh. And our flesh, seeing him named man like itself, calls itself his Sister, and names him Brother.✦29 She must have a firm and sure heart who can call herself the Sister of her God. After that, come with great love and declare to her that her creation is nothing other than the good will you have always been pleased to hold toward her—assuring her that before her first day, foreseeing her, you already had love for her.30 By that love you have brought her into being, as you alone know how to do it well. And then afterward you set her in this body—not to sleep, nor to lie idle, but so that both would have no other work than thinking how to serve you. Then Truth makes her clearly feel that true fatherhood is in you.✦3132 Oh, what honor, what good, and what glory belong to the soul that never stops remembering she is your daughter! And by calling you Father, she fulfills your commandment. What more is there? Is that all? Alas! No: it pleases you to give her another name—to call her your Bride, and for her to call you her husband and bridegroom; declaring to her how, with a free and open heart, you have pledged marriage to her.33 At Baptism, you promised to give her your goods and your riches. You take her evils upon yourself, for she has nothing but sin—the sin Adam her father gave her. So her treasures are nothing but sins, which you have taken upon yourself. You have paid her debt in full, and from your goods and vast wealth you have so richly enriched and endowed her that, knowing herself acknowledged as your wife, she holds herself free of all she owes, little valuing what she sees here below.✦3435 She has gladly given up her old father, and all the goods he provides, for the sake of her spouse.36 Truly, my God, my soul is completely undone—to be drawn by you toward such a good, and to leave behind earthly pleasure for the infinite, where there is peace without war.37 I'm amazed she doesn't suddenly lose her mind. I'm amazed she doesn't go mad, losing her senses, her composure, and her speech. What can I, alas!38 O my Father—think? Will my spirit really dare to venture to call you Father? Yes—and 'our': that is how you said it in the Our Father.39 So then, Father—but what about your daughter? Did you say that?40 My God, tell me. Alas! Yes—when in great sweetness you say, 'Daughter, lend me your heart.' O my Father, instead of lending it, it is ready to give itself to you wholly. Receive it, and do not allow anyone to set it far from you; and may it forever, in loyal steadfastness, love you with a filial love.41 But, Lord, if you are my Father, may I consider myself your mother? To give birth to You—You by whom I was made—is a case I truly don't know how to resolve. But reason settles my doubt well enough when, while preaching and stretching out your arms, you said: Those who do the will of my Father are my brothers, and my sister, and my mother.42 So I believe that by hearing or reading the word you speak, and that you have spoken through your saints and prophets, and that you still declare through your good preachers—by believing it and firmly desiring to fulfill it wholly and completely—that through love I have given birth to you. So, without fear, I will take the name of mother. Mother of God, sweet Virgin Mary, do not be grieved by this title.43 I commit no theft, nor any sacrilege; I claim nothing against your privilege. For you alone, above every other woman, have received from him so great an honor, my Lady, that no mind of itself can grasp how he willed to take our flesh in you,44 And you are perfectly both mother and virgin—before, after, and in the birth itself. In your holy womb you carried him; you nourished him, served him, nursed him, and comforted him. You followed his preaching, going with him through his troubles. In short, you found from God the grace that the enemy, by malice and deceit, had wholly made poor Adam and his posterity lose, in truth.✦ Through Eve and him we had all lost it; through your Son it has been restored to us.45 You are known as being full of it, and that reputation is no lie.✦46 For you lack nothing of virtues, of grace, or of gifts, since the Best of the good, the source of goodness and power—who made you in such pure innocence that you are an example of virtues to everyone—has made you His dwelling and His Temple. In you He is established by love, and you are caught up in Him and transformed. To think of praising you better is blasphemy.47 There is no praise like the praise that comes from God Himself. You have held a faith so firm and constant that, through powerful grace, it has entirely deified you.48 So I don't want to presume to build you praise greater than the honor the sovereign Lord has done you: for you are his bodily mother, and mother still by spiritual faith. Yet, by humbly following your faith, I am a mother in spirit.✦ But, my Savior, have you said anything about the brotherhood you share with me through your humility in calling me sister? Alas! Yes—for you have broken the filiation of the cursed father by naming me a daughter of adoption.49 So then, since we have only one Father, I won't be afraid to call you my brother. You spoke with true authority through Solomon in your sweet canticle, saying: "My sister, you have wounded my heart; you have wounded my heart with the sweetness of one of your eyes and one of your hairs."50 Alas! My sweet brother, I want no other good than this: that in wounding you, I should feel myself wounded by your love—I gladly consent to it.51 Likewise, in that same place you claim me as your wife, showing that you love me, and with a true, jealous love you call me your dove and your bride as well.✦ And so I’ll say, through loving faith, that I am yours and you are mine. You call me beloved, wife, and beautiful; if I am so, you've made me so.52 Alas! Does it please you to give me such names? They are enough to make a heart break, die, and burn with love beyond bearing, when one considers an honor so far beyond all reason.53 Mother—how, mother? Alas! Of what child? It's of such a son that my whole heart breaks open for it—my son, my God, O Jesus, what words! And father, and daughter—O blessed lineage! What sweetness, what tender delight this fatherhood keeps stirring in me! But what love should I have? Filial.54 What fear? Truly reverential.55 My Father—what? Indeed, even my Creator, my protector and my preserver.56 Your sister? Alas! This is a great friendship.57 So then, my heart, split open right down the middle and make room for this sweet brother; let him alone be held within you, with no other name ever taking a place there except Jesus alone, my brother, the Son of God. I will yield that place to no one else, no matter what assault or undermining they try against me.58 Guard my heart, my brother, my friend, and don't let your enemy enter it. O my good brother, child, father, and spouse: with hands joined, humbly on my knees, I give you thanks, mercy, glory, and praise that it has pleased you—me, who am only earth, ash, and mire—to turn me toward yourself and convert my heart; and to clothe me so fully with grace and cover me that you no longer see my evils and sins, so thoroughly have you hidden them: so that they seem cast into forgetfulness by you, and even by me who committed them all.59 Faith and love make me forget them, setting all my trust in you alone.
The Prodigal's Return and the Judgment of Solomon
Using the imagery of the prodigal son and the judgment of Solomon, the soul recounts its return to God and the restoration of its true identity.
So then—to my Father! In whom true love dwells—why should I have any fear in my heart?✦60 I confess I've done every evil a person can do, and that I'm worth nothing; and that, like the prodigal son, I abandoned you, following the mad company where I spent all I had, and all your goods received in abundance. But poverty dried me out like hay and left my spirit dead with hunger, hunting for the scraps the swine ate — yet I found little taste in such morsels.✦✦✦✦6162 So, seeing how badly things stood with me, my Father, I have returned to you—and by you.✦63 Alas! I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am not worthy—I say it before everyone—to call myself a child; but, kind Father, do not treat me worse than a hired servant.✦✦✦6465 Ah! What is this? You didn't wait for my prayer, but stretched out your right hand and came to receive me, when I never thought you would even deign to look at me. Instead of punishing me, you assure me of my salvation. So where is the one who will punish me, when my God will deny him my sin?66 No judge can condemn anyone, since God does not will to damn them. I don't fear lacking any good thing, since I have God as my Father.67 My enemy will do me no harm, for my Father will undo his power. If I owe anything, he will pay it all for me; if I have earned death, he, as King, will grant me grace and mercy, delivering me from prison and from the rope.68 But here's something worse: what kind of mother have I been, after receiving through faith and assurance the name of a true and good mother? I have been far too harsh and bitter toward you; for having conceived and borne you, then letting reason be subject to the will, I failed to watch over you—I fell asleep and made room for my great enemy, who in the night of ignorance, while I slept, stole you from my side and cunningly put her own child, stone-dead, in your place.69 I have lost you—and that is a hard remorse for me. I have lost you through my own fault, my son, for I kept too poor a watch over you. My neighbor, my sensuality, robbed me of you out of envy while I was lost in a bestial sleep, and gave me a dead child instead—Sin—whom I want nothing to do with.70 I renounce him completely—that’s the point. She told me he was mine; he is hers. For as soon as I came to the candle of grace that you gave me, I saw clearly that my glory had been overturned: I saw that the dead child was not mine, because the living one she had taken was my own true son.71 The swap between Jesus and Sin is all too plain. But here’s a strange case: this old woman made me hold the dead child she calls mine and keeps insisting is mine.72 O true judge, true Solomon, you have heard this lamentable case and given judgment, satisfying both parties. That my child be cut into two parts. The traitress agreed to that; but when I remembered my son, I'd sooner suffer being deprived of him than have his body torn apart—for true love, fully perfect and burning, is never content with half. I'd far rather mourn my loss completely than have it only half recovered. It wouldn't satisfy my longing at all if I had half of him without life. Alas! Rather give her the living child. It is far better for me that I die first than suffer Jesus Christ divided.73 But, Lord, you have judged more wisely. For seeing my distress on every side, and that I would sooner renounce my claim than suffer so bitter a cruelty, you said of me: "This is the true mother"—by giving my child back to me, for whom you see my heart so tormented. O sweet Jesus, I have found you again; after testing through affliction whether I loved you—I who had lost you—you have given yourself back to me myself.74 Alas, will you deign to return to her who, through sin, could not hold on to you? My sweet child, my son, my nourishment, of whom I am a most humble creature: do not allow me ever to leave you, for I repent of the past and confess it.75 So come then, my sensuality—come, sins of every kind. You have no power, by any effort, to make me take the dead child. The one I have is strong enough to defend me, and he himself will not let himself be taken again.76 Already he is great, and stronger than any man. So I can sleep and rest beside him: for, all things considered, he will keep me better than I have kept him. It seems to me that I can rest well. Oh, what rest there is for mother and son together! My sweet child, my God: honor and glory be Yours alone, and known to everyone—that it has pleased Your humility to call me Mother, me who am less than nothing, pure nothingness. The stranger the case, the more praise Your goodness receives for it.77
The Leprosy of Murmuring and the Healing of Grace
The soul confesses its prideful murmuring against God and experiences the healing of its spiritual leprosy through divine mercy.
More than ever I feel bound to you, since it has pleased you to keep me as Sister. I am your Sister, but I am such a poor one that it would be better for me to leave that name unspoken. By forgetting the honor of this kinship, the adoption into so noble a lineage, and your sweet, brotherly welcome, I have risen up against you in pride.78 I have not remembered my offenses; but, drawing away from you, I have sided with Aaron, my brother, in betrayal, wanting to call your works into account, murmuring about you wholly in secret—which ought to fill me with deep regret.79 Alas! My God, my brother and true Moses, most kind and gentle without pretense, who do everything in goodness and justice—I judged your works to be vice, and dared to say, far too lightly: Why have you married the foreign woman? You give us the Law and punishment without wanting to be subject to them yourself. You forbid us to do wrong, and you do the same wrong without conscience. You forbid everyone to kill; but you kill, sparing none of the twenty-three thousand you had destroyed.80 Through you God made us keep the commandment not to marry a foreigner's daughter; but you took your wife from among them without danger. My brother, alas! So many words like these, which I know and understand to be foolish—I said them to you along with Aaron (who is my own mind), and I feel regret for them.81 But by grace, the living voice of God thoroughly rebuked me before I left that place. What did you do then? About my sin—alas!82 My brother, you busied yourself—not to pray for my punishment, but for my good and for the remitting of my sin, asking as a very great favor that it would please God to soften his justice: which you could not obtain at all, for I had to become a leper, so that when people saw my face everyone would know I had not been wise.✦83 So I was cast out like a leper, away from the camp of the people and the crowd; for a soul cannot be punished more severely than by being kept far from the holy company of the virtuous, the faithful, the good, and the saints, who through sin are not lepers, but clean.84 But what did you do when you saw my repentance? You quickly put an end to my penance; through true love that didn't linger idle in you, you prayed—and I have returned.85 O gentle Brother, who, instead of punishing His foolish sister, wants to unite her to Himself, and for murmuring, insult, or great offense gives her grace and love in return. It's too much, it's too much—alas! It's too much, my Brother; you ought not do me such great kindnesses. I've done the evil; You give me back the good. I am Yours, and You call Yourself mine. I am Yours, and Yours twice over, and I want to be Yours forever.✦ I no longer fear Aaron's great folly; no one will unbind me from You.✦ Now that we are brother and sister, I care little for anyone else. Your land is my true inheritance. If it pleases you, let's make just one household from now on.86 Since it has pleased you to humble yourself so far as to bind your heart with mine by making yourself truly man, I thank you most humbly for it. I cannot thank you as I ought; take my heart, and excuse my ignorance.8788 Since I am from such a good house and am your sister, my God, I have every reason to praise you, love you, and serve you without pretense, and to desire and fear nothing but you.89 So keep me; I entrust myself to you. I ask for no other brother or friend. If a father has shown mercy to his child, if a mother has cared for her son, or if a brother has covered his sister's sin—I have never seen, or it is very well hidden, a husband who was willing to forgive his wife so that she might return to him.✦ There are plenty who, to avenge their wrong, have had them put to death by judgment. Others, seeing their sin, have not spared their hand, but killed them at once. Others, seeing their faults were too obvious, have sent them back to their parents. Others, intending to punish their wicked behavior, have locked them away in a tower.90 In short, look at any temperament: it all tends only toward harsh punishment.91 And the least harm I've been able to find is that they never want to see them again. You would sooner make the heavens turn than convince a husband to reconcile once he is certain of her sin, having seen her or caught her in the act.92 So, my God, I can find no comparison in any time or season; but through the love that is so abundant in you, you alone are the perfect example here. Here, my God, I confess more than ever that I have broken my faith and my promises to you. Alas! You had made me your bride and restored me to a place of honor—(but what honor?93 —that of standing in the bride's place, she who rests gently near you: queen, mistress, and lady of all your goods, secure in honor, body, and soul)—base as I am, I must not forget this: by you, most noble One, I was nobly ennobled.94 In short, I had from you more and better than anyone could desire; so my heart should well keep sighing without end, until it leaves the body, and my eyes should spring out from weeping. My mouth could never cry out enough, seeing that neither new writings nor old have ever made known a case as pitiful as the one I mean to give an account of. Shall I say it? Do I dare announce it? Can I say it without shame? Alas! Yes—for my confusion is to show the great love of my Spouse; so for his honor I don't mind declaring my shame. O my Savior, crucified to death for me: this act isn't like abandoning a son, or a child offending a good father, or a sister grumbling and quarreling. Alas, it is far worse; for the offense is greater where there is more love and knowledge. The more intimacy one receives from one's God, the greater the disloyalty it is to fail him.✦95 I, who was called your spouse and wife, loved by you as your own soul—shall I tell the truth of it? Yes. I have left you, forgotten you, and fled from you. I have left you to follow my own pleasure; I have left you for a bad choice; I have left you, the source of all my good; I have left you, breaking the bond of true love and promised loyalty.96 I have left you; but where have I put myself? In a place where there is nothing but a curse. I have left you, the friend without pretense, the friend of all, worthy of being prized, the friend who loves first before being loved.97 I have left you, O source of goodness, by my own evil will alone.98 I have left You—the beautiful, the good, the wise, the strong of arm, and the gentle of heart. I have left you, and, the better to pull myself away from Your love, I took up what is contrary to you. It is the Enemy, and the World, and the Flesh, who cost you so dear on the cross, so that you might defeat them and set free me—I who through them had long been in prison, a slave, and so tightly bound that I could not be more humiliated, and who made myself familiar with all three, and settled myself with them in every matter.99 And self-love, which is all too false and feigned, has extinguished charity toward You in me, so much so that the name of JESUS my spouse (which before I had found so sweet) I almost held in hatred and vexation, and very often I made a mockery of it. If someone said while listening to a sermon, "He has spoken well," I would answer, "What do I care?"100 The word flew away like a feather. I only went to church out of habit. All my fine deeds were nothing but hypocrisy, for my mind was set firmly elsewhere. It bored me to hear people talk about you; I'd much rather go after my own pleasure. To put it briefly: everything you forbid, I did; and what you command, I did and found bitter—all for lack, my God, of loving you.
The Paradox of Death and Life
The soul reflects on the paradox of the Christian life, where death to self becomes the gateway to true life in Christ.
But, my Lord, for having hated you—abandoned, left, fled from, and betrayed you—for giving your place to another and looking to give myself over to him: have you allowed me to be jeered at, pointed at, beaten, or killed? Have you put me in a pitch-dark prison, or banished me without any care for me? Have you taken back your gifts and your jewels to punish me for my disloyal tricks? Have I lost the dowry you promised me because of the sins I’ve committed against you?101 Have you put me on trial and accused me, like a woman ruined by misfortune? At the very least, have you not forbidden me from ever coming into your presence again—as would have been only right—or from entering your house? O true Spouse, Husband beyond all price, perfect Friend, more lovable than all that is good: you have done quite otherwise with me. For you have sought me out diligently, like a straying sheep in the deepest pit of Hell where every evil is done—me, who was so far from you, lost in my heart and my mind. You have called me with a loud voice, saying to me: "O my daughter, hear and see,"✦102 And incline your ear toward me. Be willing also to forget the people you fled to, and your first Father's great house, where you made your dwelling. And the King, full of all faithfulness, will at once desire your beauty. But when that sweet and gracious plea did me no good, then you would come and cry out: Come to me, all of you who are worn out by labor and loaded with sorrow; I am the one who will take you in, and with my bread I will refresh you. Alas, I wouldn't listen to any of these words; but I still doubted whether it was you, or whether, by chance, it was nothing but mere writing. Up to that point, I was so foolish that I read your word without love. I could see clearly that the comparisons of the vine—which gave you poisons and wild grapes instead of perfect fruit—were meant for me, for I had done the same. I thought clearly enough that the Spouse's callings and appeals, saying, "Turn, return, Shulammite," were so that I would want to break free from the whole bound of my sin, where in pity you see me failing. Of all that I took no notice at all; but when I came to read Jeremiah, I can truly say that in that passage I had fear in my heart and shame on my face.✦ I will tell it—even with a blade at my eye—for your honor, to bring down my pride.103 Through your holy prophet you have said: If a wife has wronged her husband by leaving him for another man, it has never happened, nor has anyone ever seen it, that the husband would want to call her back, see her again, or speak to her.✦ Isn't she considered defiled, thoroughly wicked, and worthless?✦ The Law agrees with Justice that she should be given up and driven away, never to be seen again or taken back.104 But you who left my sweet bed to commit fornication wickedly with another, and set your false lovers in my place—you can still come back to me.✦ I don't want to hold any anger against you. Lift your eyes and look straight on, and you will see what place and spot your sin has shamelessly led you to, and where you lie prostrate on the ground.✦ Soul, look at the place you've put yourself: sitting right in the middle of the highway, where you waited for every passerby for evil.✦ You aimed at nothing else—that's certain. Like a thief hidden in a lonely place, you set all your study on deceiving them.✦ And so, once you'd carried out your malice, you filled the land around you with your unclean and filthy infection; you've covered it with fornication. Your eye, your brow, your visage, and your face had completely changed their fair grace—for it was like a prostitute's. And yet you felt no shame for your vice.✦ And the rest of what Jeremiah says compelled my heart, without resistance, to contemplate my wretched state, and to regret with painful sighs the hour, the day, the time, the month, the year when I left you, making myself condemned—even judging by myself my infamous heart—to be without end in the eternal flame. That fear—which does not come from me, but comes from you and exceeds every pleasure—had almost, through a vivid knowledge of my sin, driven me into despair, had it not been that you did not abandon me.105 For as soon as you saw my will brought low under your obedience, you used your great clemency, putting in me so living a faith that, knowing you as Master, Lord, and King—of whom by reason I ought to have been afraid—through true love I felt my fear put out, believing you so gracious a husband, so good, so gentle, so tender, so merciful, that I, who so much ought to have hidden myself, was not afraid at all to go looking for you. I have withdrawn to You, seeking You—but before that, I had been pulled away from You. What have You done? Have You refused me? Alas, my God, no—rather, You excused me.106 Have You turned Your gaze away from me? No, but Your eye has been a sweet dart to me, which pierced my heart to the point of death, giving me remorse for my sins. You haven't pushed me away with Your hand; instead, with both arms and a gentle, human heart, You have come near to embrace me, without reproaching me at all for my failings. From Your face I never could tell that You had ever noticed my offense. You've made as much of me as if I'd been good and honorable, covering my fault and my offense from everyone and giving me back my share in your bed; showing me that my many sins are so covered by your goodness, and so conquered by your great victory, that you never want to keep any memory of them, and that you've enclosed grace within me—grace that will not let you see anything else but the gifts given by your right hand and the virtues you have been pleased to place there.✦✦✦107 O Charity, I can clearly see that your ardor here consumes and burns away my ugliness, remaking me into a new creature, full of God, who makes me beautiful.✦✦ You have completely destroyed what is mine, without leaving renown or rumor of it, deigning to remake me so perfectly that every good a true husband can do for his wife, you have done for me, by giving me faith in your promises.108 So, by your grace, I have recovered the spouse's place: a blessed place, a place so desirable, a gracious bed, a most honorable throne, a seat of peace, a rest from every war, a high dais of honor set apart from the earth—will you receive this unworthy person, restoring to me the scepter and the crown of your empire and kingdom of glory? Who has ever heard of such a story—raising up so high what is less than nothing, and making valuable someone who, in herself, is worth nothing? Alas, what is this? When I look up, I see in you a goodness so unknown, a grace and love so beyond understanding, that the sight of them is hidden from me, and my gaze is forced to stop—which drives me to lower my eyes. Immediately, in that downward look, I see what I am and what I wanted to be. Alas, there I see the ugliness of my evils—the darkness, the extreme depth; my death, my nothing, and my nothingness, which closes my eye in humility; your good, so wonderful; my evil, all too base to weigh; your height, your purest essence; my most fragile and mortal nature; your gifts, your goods, your blessedness, and my malice and great ingratitude; what you are to me and what I am to you; what you will and what I chase after—all of which makes me marvel without end that it has pleased you to labor so hard to unite yourself to me against all reason, seeing there is no comparison between us.109110 You are God; I am your handiwork. My Creator—and I, your creature. In short, not able to define what this is: it is what can least be united to you.111 Love, love, you have created this harmony, uniting death with life. But the union to a death made living—life dying of proven love—endless Life has made our death alive.112 Death has given life a native death.113 By this death, I who am dead receive life; and through death I am caught up to the Living One. In you I live when in myself I am dead; death is nothing more to me than a prison door.✦ Life is death to me; for by death I am alive. Life makes me deeply sad, and death content. O, what a death that makes my soul live, freeing it from death by death, united to You by a love so powerful that, without dying, it dies of longing.114 Is the soul wrong to desire death for the sake of such a good? No, she has every right. To gain a life so highly prized, she should rightly call death her beloved. O sweet death, gracious pain, powerful key that delivers from misery those who were put to death by death: because they put their trust in you and in your death, you have set them, through a sweet sleep, outside the death that made them groan.✦✦115 Alas! Blessed is the sleep of death for those who receive life when they awaken. Through your death, death is for the Christian nothing but freedom from their mortal bond. Death, which is terrifying to the wicked, is pleasant and welcome to the good. So death is destroyed by your death.✦ Therefore, my God, if I were well taught, I would call death life, and life death: the end of toil, the entrance into the safe harbor. For the great enjoyment of this life keeps me too much from the sight of you.✦116 O death, come and break this obstacle for me—or else, Love, work a miracle in me. Since by death I still cannot see my sweet Spouse, by your great power transform me wholly into him while I live, and in rest I will better endure the waiting.117118 So make me die in him while I live; no one but you can help me.
The Triumph of Charity over Hell and Judgment
The soul finds security in the victory of Christ over sin and hell, resting in the assurance of divine charity.
O my Savior, by faith I am planted, and by love joined and grafted into you. What a union, what blessedness! Since through faith I have sure confidence in you, I can boldly name you, by love: Son, Father, Spouse, and Brother—wholly Father, Son, Brother, and Husband. O what gifts, to give me the good of all these names!119 O my Father, what fatherhood! O my Brother, what brotherhood! O my Child, what love!120 O my Spouse, what union!121 Father toward me, full of gentleness; Brother, having taken our likeness; Son, begotten by faith and charity; Husband, loving to the utmost.✦122 But who is it that you love? Alas—the one you have drawn out of the snares where she was bound by malice, restoring to her the place, the name, and the office of Daughter, Sister, Mother, and Spouse.123 O Savior, this sweetness has great savor, and is most pleasant and most sweet to taste: to speak to you, or indeed to listen to you. Calling you Father (speaking to you without fear), Child, Brother, and Spouse; listening to you, I hear myself named Mother, Sister, Daughter, Spouse.124 Alas, it is enough to consume, melt, burn, and utterly annihilate the soul that can feel this sweetness.125 Is there any love beside this one that isn't all too full of miserable ifs?126 Is there any pleasure worth counting? Is there any honor that isn't really a form of shame? Is there any gain worth prizing? In short, is there anything I could love more? Alas, no—for whoever loves God holds all these worldly goods as less than what is truly his.127 Pleasure, profit, and honor are mere drudgery to anyone who has found the love of his God.128 Love of God is so sweet a gain, and so much honor, that it alone is enough for the heart. It makes a person so completely content—I can say it—that they want nothing more and desire nothing more.129 For anyone who has God as He commands, yet still asks for some other good, is being outrageous.130 Now I have you through a hidden faith, by which I am satisfied and content. Now I have you, my Father, as a defense against the follies of my all-too-long childhood. Now I have you, my Brother, as a rescue from my troubles, which I find never-ending. Now I have you, my Son, as the only staff for my old age and the support for my weakness. Now I have you as my true Spouse, the one who satisfies my whole heart. Since I have you, I leave everything else behind. Since I hold you, I’ll never let you go. Since I see you, I don't want to look at anything that could keep me from seeing you. Since I hear you, I don't want to hear anyone else who might keep me from enjoying your voice. Since I can hold conversation with you, I don't want to entertain anyone else. Since it pleases you to draw me near to you, I would rather die than touch another. Since I serve you, I want no other master. Since I belong to you, I cannot belong to another. Since you have united my heart to yours, if it departs from you, let it be punished without end. For it is harder to feel separation from you than to face damnation. I don't count ten thousand hells as such a great pain as losing you for a single day of the week. Alas, my God, my Father and Creator, do not allow the enemy, inventor of every sin, to have this power: that through him I should be cast out of your presence. For anyone who has truly approved the withdrawal of your love will readily say that it would be better to be bound forever in iron in Hell than to fall back again, even for a single moment, into the evil that drives us away from you.131 O my Savior, permit it no longer. Instead, place me, if it please you, in such a place that my soul may never, by sin or by folly, unbind itself from your love. Yet here below I cannot fully possess the good that makes me long so ardently, with all my heart, for my release—without fearing death, the pike, the pan, or the club.132 For what fear of my God can I have, seeing that by love he has fulfilled his duty and accepted a death he didn't need, to undo our death by his own? Jesus has died—in whom we are all dead—and by his death he makes all his people live: I mean his own, who by faith share in his passion.✦133 For whereas death, before the great mystery of this cross, was harsh to everyone, and there was no heart that did not fear it when looking on its face and its severity—given the union of soul and body, and the order, love, and harmony between them, of which the pain of separation was an extreme assault that strips everything away—since it pleased the gentle Lamb to suffer on the cross and there offer himself for us, his great love has kindled in our heart a fire so fierce that every good Christian must gladly prize Death and spur one another on to die.134135 And just as fear once held us back, love ought to give us a desire for death. For if love is truly in the heart, it cannot feel anything else. So great is she that she fills the whole place: she puts everything else out and suffers nothing there but God.136 Where true and living love exists without pretense, there is no memory of fear, pain, or dread.✦ If our pride, to win honor, makes us seek so many ways to meet Death; if, to have a pleasure that costs so much, people put the fear and dread of death out of mind; if, to have their fill of riches, people put their lives in danger for a single penny; if the desire to rob or kill, to beat, to deceive, so transforms the spirit that it no longer sees Death's danger, all to do wrong or take revenge on another; if the force of a great illness, or the pain of melancholy, makes one desire Death and often take it by suddenly drowning, killing, or hanging oneself (for so great is the misery or the craving that it makes one choose Death for freedom)—if this is so, that these great passions, full of evil and imperfections, make people little fear the risk of Death, and many times it even seems to them to come too late: what then must just and praiseworthy love do, love well bound and more than reasonable? And what will the love of the Creator do? Shouldn't it burn a heart so fiercely that, by the force of such affection, it must feel no other passion? Alas, yes it does; for death is a happy thing to the soul that is in love with Him, and she counts as gracious the door through which she must leave her prison.✦✦ The hard road cannot tire her—the road by which she goes to embrace her Spouse. O my true God, how beautiful this death is—through which I will have an end to every strife; through which I will have full enjoyment of you and will rejoice in the vision of you; through which I will be so conformed to you that there I will be transformed into the divine.✦✦137138 O Death, I hope for so much honor through you that I beg you on both knees, with cries, sighs, and tears: come quickly and put an end to my groaning. O happy souls, most holy daughters — a canticle.139 Joined together in the city of Jerusalem, lower your eyes in pity and look on my desolation.✦ I beg you: please speak for me to my God, my Friend, and my King, telling him every hour of the day that I languish for him with love of him.✦140 O sweet death, come by this love, and by love lead me to my God. O Death, where is your sting here — your goad, your harsh roughness?✦141 Alas, it has been turned away from my eyes; for rigor has been changed into sweetness for me, since through you my Friend has passed, and on the Cross died for me.142 His death so strongly drives my heart to die that you are truly sweet to me for following him. O Death, O Death, come — whatever people may say — to unite the beloved with her Beloved.143 Since death is such a pleasant life to me that it delights more than it frightens, I need fear nothing but the judgment of God that follows—God, who never lies.✦ All my sins will be weighed in His just balance and brought into the open.✦144 What I’ve done, my thoughts, and my words will be known—written more clearly than on any scroll.✦145 Never think that Charity would choose to wrong Justice and Truth.146 For anyone who has lived as an unbeliever will be punished with everlasting torment.✦147 God is most just; His judgment is right. Everything He does is just in every way.✦ Alas, where do I stand when I look at His uprightness—I, a wretched and poor creature? Given that I know all the righteous deeds of the most perfect are so full of vices that before God they are filthy, foul, and vile—indeed far worse than the filth of the base—what will become of the sins I commit, whose burden I feel so unbearably heavy?✦148 I can reach no other conclusion but that I've earned damnation. Is that the end? Will despair be the comfort for my great ignorance? Alas, my God, no: for invisible Faith makes me believe that everything impossible for me is very easy for you, so much so that you turn my nothingness into some good work.149 So then, my Lord, who will condemn me? And what Judge will ever damn me, when the One given to me as Judge is my Spouse, my Father, and my refuge? Father—but what kind? One who never wants to damn his child, but excuses and defends that child. And then I see that I have no accuser but Jesus Christ, who is my Redeemer—who by his death has restored our inheritance to us and made himself our advocate, presenting his merits before God: merits so great and of such worth that my vast debt is so overcome by them that it counts for nothing in judgment.✦✦ My Redeemer, what a great case this is — so few such good advocates are ever found! Sweet Jesus Christ, I owe it all to you, for you pray and plead on my behalf.✦150 And what is more, when you see me poor, you pay my great debt out of your own goods. O sea, abyss, and flood of goodness! My holy Father, deign to be my judge—you who do not desire the death of a sinner.✦ O Jesus Christ, true fisher of souls and only Savior, friend above every friend—you have been set here as my advocate, speaking for me and deigning to excuse me where you could justly accuse me.✦✦✦151 I no longer fear being defeated by anyone, because Justice is fully satisfied. My sweet Spouse has paid the debt so fully and so abundantly that Justice can ask for nothing that it cannot have from Him alone; for He has taken all my sins upon Himself and has given me His own goods, as I believe.152 When you present your virtues, my Savior, you certainly satisfy Justice enough. When she wants to reproach my vices, you show her that in your own flesh you have borne them willingly, through the union of our marriage; and on the cross, by your passion, you have made satisfaction for them.153 And what's more, through your love you've given me what you have earned.154 And so, seeing your merit as mine, Justice asks nothing more of me; but her sister Peace—wholly at peace as she looks at you—is gently kissed.155 So I won't fear the Judgment anymore; instead, I wait for the hour when I will see my Judge and hear a just judgment from him, driven far more by desire than by compulsion. I know well that your Judgment is so perfectly just that it never fails, and I am fully aware of my own unfaithfulness—which is worthy of Hell and its cruelty.156 If only my own merit is considered, I see nothing that keeps me from that fire. It is entirely true that it exists only for the Devil, and is not made at all for the rational human being.✦157 But still, if he has set his effort on taking on the likeness of the enemy, it is only right that, like him, he should be repaid with the wage he receives.✦158 For if a person, through contemplation, love, virtue, goodness, and perfection, takes after the Angel and in the end inherits in heaven the place of like merit, the vicious one is punished in Hell with the one to whom he has united himself. Since he has made himself wholly like Satan, he holds the place that is prepared for him.✦ This comforts my spirit very little, when I think of the different lots of the two. I cannot deny that I resemble the wicked far more than the good: and so I fear and tremble. For the Angel's life is so heavenly that I hold nothing of it: that I declare.159 But I have so much likeness to the other, so much malice, and so much habit of evil, that by true judgment I must share in his harm, his pain, and his torment.160 The cruel sin that has bound me so tightly in Hell is great, and far too great. Hell is powerful and lets nothing break free, yet it doesn't fear that anyone might come to assault it.✦161 The Strong One is powerful, but when the Stronger comes, the Strong One no longer knows what becomes of his strength.✦162 Sin is strong—it leads us into Hell. And I see no one who, by merit or by suffering, has ever managed to conquer and kill this Strong One—except for that One alone who made such an effort through love that, dead and humbled, he conquered and bound his enemy, broke Hell open, and shattered its power. So now it can no longer hold captive, or keep under its guard, the soul that is faithful to its God.✦✦✦163164 So, trusting in his great power, I don't consider Hell or sin to be worth a straw.165 How can sin hurt me, except by better revealing my merciful God—strong and mighty, the complete victor over all the evil within my heart? If my forgiven sin is my Savior's glory, I can likewise believe that my own glory is increased by this, since I am joined and grafted into him.166 His honor alone honors all who are his, and his treasure fills each of them with good things. So through him Hell is utterly destroyed, and Sin is defeated—that Sin which once caused such a stir. Gluttonous Hell, where is your defense?✦167 Base Sin, where is your power?✦ O Death!✦ Where is your victory here? Where is your sting, so long remembered?✦ Thinking to give us death, you give us life—and you do the opposite of what you intended.168 And you, Sin, who want to drag everyone to damnation without pardon: you serve us as a spur and a ladder to reach fair Jerusalem, though by your malicious nature you thought to make the Creator lose his creature.169 By his great grace you hasten her return, and through love you make her come back to her God more humbly than ever, and serve and love him twice as much.170 His great goodness makes the trouble you take all week long a waste.171 So Hell has not gotten the full number it claimed for you, because the shadow and the power of this Passion are such protection to the spirit that it need have neither fear nor doubt of Death, of Sin, or of Hell—not even a drop.✦172173 Is there anything that can still harm me, if God wants to lead me to himself by faith? I mean faith exactly as it should be, worthy of the name of a gift from on high: faith that, through burning charity, unites the Creator's most humble servant to him.✦174 United to him, I cannot have fear, pain, toil, weariness, evil, or sorrow, for with him the cross, death, and passion can only be a consolation. I am far too weak in myself, but in God I am very strong, for I can do all things in him who comforts me.✦ His love is so firm and everlasting that it is never changeable. So who will it be that pulls me away from His grace? Who will separate me from it? In fact, neither the vast height of heaven, nor the abyss and depth of hell, nor the breadth of the entire earth, nor death, nor sin—which wages such war against me—will be able to separate me for even a single day from the great charity and love my Father bears me through Jesus Christ. For His love is such that He loves me even when I don't love Him; and when I do love Him, I feel that love for Him twice over through His own love.175 My love exists so that I may love Him, but His love, within me, loves Him—and I feel it as my own.176 So he loves himself in me, and by loving me, he sets my heart on fire with love. By this love he makes himself so loved that its effect—not I—makes him content.177 Content as he is, he always multiplies far more love than love can supply him.178
The Ineffable Mystery of Divine Love
The soul concludes by acknowledging the inexpressible nature of God's love, surrendering to silence and praise.
O true Lover, source of Charity, and the sole purse of the divine treasure—dare I think, or would I dare say, that this is of you?179 Can I even write it well? Can your goodness, your love, be rightly conceived by any mortal person? And if it pleases you to imprint a little of it within a heart, can that heart express it?180 Certainly not: for its capacity cannot hold the great immensity that is in you, since living reason shows us clearly there is no comparison between the infinite and the finite. But when it is united to him by love, its Nothing is so filled with a little of the All that it cannot find an end to declaring it.181 It has more good than it can bear of it—and so it believes it holds the whole world.182 When the Sun blinds the eye with a single spark, it hides its great light: but ask the eye what it has felt; it will say everything—yet it will have lied. For, blinded by a little light, it cannot see the full great brightness; and still it stays so content that it thinks, if it had as much again, it would not be strong enough to bear this brilliance it cannot measure. So the spirit that, by some subtle way, feels a spark of the love of God finds this fire so great and so terrible, so sweet, so good, that it cannot say this is love: for the little it has felt makes its whole appetite so satisfied, and no less desiring than it is filled, and it lives sighing. The heart clearly feels that it has received too much; yet in that excess, it has conceived such a desire that it never stops longing to receive what it cannot have and is not worthy of having. It knows well that its good is beyond words, and it still wants more where it knows nothing.183 It cannot feel what its good truly is, and yet it cannot think its own feeling.184 So putting it into words is not in his power, since he has no knowledge of the fire. He cannot truly define love—he who thought he held the whole of it in his heart. Blessed is the one who has such excess of it that he can say: My God, I have enough. Whoever has it within himself wouldn't know how to speak of it (fearing that by speaking he might let it slip away), except when building up his neighbor toward his salvation.185 So the impossible will make me keep silent. For there is no saint so perfect or austere who, if he wants to speak of the love of the Most High—of His goodness and sweetness, of what He is worth, of His graces, of what he feels touch him from God—does not lower his eyes and close his mouth.186 I, then—a worm of the earth, less than nothing, a dead dog, filth of dung—ought well to stop speaking of the height of this love. But it would be too great an ingratitude in me if I wrote nothing and left it all to a far better mind.187 For to hide the gifts of so good a Master is a crime that cannot be justly punished enough, short of the eternal noose.188 So come, O blessed Saint Paul—you who have truly tasted this sweet honey, three days without sight, caught up as far as the third heaven—please make up for my ignorance and my failing. What have you known of such a high vision?✦189 Listen to what he says: O unspeakable height of the great treasure of divine riches, of the fountain and source of high and divine knowledge and of all wisdom—your judgments are beyond comprehension; and your paths, by every measure of what is possible for us, are beyond the searching of all our senses. O good Saint Paul, your words truly amaze us, that you, with all your supreme learning, say no more about such a secret.✦ But you say even more: regarding this love, what hope do we have of sharing in it someday?✦ Listen to him—here is what he tells us about it:✦ No mortal man's eye has ever seen, and no ear has ever known how to hear, nor has it ever entered the heart—however good that heart may be—what God has prepared and promised at last to all his good friends. Won't you say anything more about it? Certainly not. What he still says of it is only to make us better value and love what he can neither declare nor name, drawing our hearts, our love, and our hope to long for what cannot be seen.✦190 What am I saying—'seen'?191 Rather, thought or felt: that which makes a martyr content to die. O most great gift of Faith—from it comes such a good that it makes us possess what we do not hold!192 Faith provides hope through certain truth and plants perfect Charity within us.✦193 And as we know, Charity is God. If He is in us, then we have God as well.194 He is in us, and we are all in Him. All are in Him, and He is in every human being; if we possess Him through Faith, that possession is something we cannot put into words.195 Since even a great Apostle like Saint Paul would not speak further, I will keep silent, following the path of his most wise school. Yet, following his word—though I am but hay, dust, filth, and mire—I cannot fail to give praise for the many gifts I don't deserve, gifts it pleases Him to give me, His pearl.196197 To the King of heaven, immortal and invisible, the only God, mighty and beyond comprehension: be all honor, glory, praise, and love forever, through the ages without end.
Read the original Latin
Seigneur DIEU crée en moy cœur net.
Où est l'Enfer remply entierement De tout malheur, travail, peine et tourment? Où est le puitz de malediction, D'où sans fin sort desesperation? Est il de mal nul sy profond abysme Qui suffisant fust pour punir la disme De mes pechés, qui sont en sy grand nombre Qu'infinité rend sy obscure l'ombre Que les compter ne bien voir je ne puys? Car trop avant avecques eux je suis. Et qui pis est, je n'ay pas la puissance D'avoir d'un seul, au vray, la congnoissance. Bien sens en moy que j'en ay la racine, Et au dehors ne voy effect ne signe, Qui ne soit tout branche, fleur, fueille et fruit, Que tout autour de moy elle produit.
Si je cuyde regarder pour le mieux, Me vient fermer une branche les yeux ; Tombe en ma bouche, alors que veux parler, Le fruit par trop amer à avaller. Si pour ouyr mon esperit s'esveille, Fueilles à tas entrent en mon oreille ; Aussi mon nez est tout bousché de fleurs. Voila comment en peine, criz et pleurs, En terre gist sans clarté ne lumiere Ma chetive ame, esclave et prisonniere, Les piedz liez par sa concupiscence, Et les deux bras par son acoustumance. En moy ne gist le povoir du remede, Force je n'ay pour bien crier à l'aide.
Bref, à jamais, à ce que je peux voir, Espoir aucun de fin ne dois avoir ; Mais sa grace, que ne puys meriter, Qui peult de mort chacun resusciter, Par sa clarté ma tenebre illumine ; Et sa vertu, qui ma faulte examine, Rompant du tout le voile d'ignorance, Me donne au vray bien clere intelligence Que c'est de moy, et qui en moy demeure, Et où je suis, et pourquoy je labeure Qui est celuy, lequel j'ay offensé, Auquel sy peu de servir j'ay pensé. Parquoy il fault que mon orgueil r'abaisse, Et qu'humblement en plorant je confesse Que, quant a moy, je suis trop moins que riens : Avant la vie boue, et apres fiens ; Un corps remply de toute promptitude A faire mal, sans vouloir autre estude ; Subjet à mal, ennuy, douleur et peine, Vie tresbrefve et la fin incertaine ; Qui soubz peché par Adam est vendu, Et de la Loy jugé d'estre pendu.
Car d'observer un seul commandement Il ne m'advint en ma vie vrayment. En moy je sens la force du peché, Dont moindre n'est mon mal d'estre caché Tant plus dehors se cele et dissimule, Plus dens le cœur s'assemble et accumule Ce que DIEU veult, je ne le puis vouloir ; Ce qu'il ne veult, souvent desire avoir : Qui me contraint par ennuy importable, De ce fascheux corps de mort, miserable, Desirer voir la fin tant desirée, Estant la vie esteinte et dessirée.
Qui sera ce qui me delivrera, Et qui tel bien pour moy recouvrera ? Las! ce ne peult estre un homme mortel, Car leur povoir et sçavoir n'est pas tel Mais ce sera la seule bonne grace Du Toutpuissant, qui jamais ne se lasse, Par JESUS CHRIST, duquel il se recorde, Nous prevenir par sa misericorde. Las! quel maistre, sans avoir desservy Nul bien de luy, mais l'ayant mal servy, Et sans cesser offensé chacun jour, A mon secours ne fait pas long sejour. Il voit le mal que j'ay, quel et combien, Et que de moy je ne puis faire bien ; Mais, cœur et corps, sy enclin au contraire, Que nul povoir ne sens, que de malfaire.
Il n'attend pas qu'humblement je le prie, Ne que voyant mon enfer à luy crie : Par son Esprit fait un gemissement Dens mon cœur, grand inenarrablement ; Et postulant le don, dont le sçavoir Est incongnu à mon foible povoir. Et lors soudain cest ignoré souspir Me va causant un tout nouveau desir, En me monstrant le bien que j'ay perdu Par mon peché, lequel bien m'est rendu Et redonné par sa grace et bonté, Qui tout peché a vaincu et domté.
O Monseigneur, et quelle est celle grace, Quel est ce bien qui tant de maux efface? Vous estes bien remply de toute amour, D'ainsi me faire un sy honneste tour.
Helas! Mon DIEU, je ne vous cerchois pas, Mais vous fuyois en courant le grand pas ; Et vous ça bas à moy estes venu, A moy, qui suis ver de terre tout nud.
Que dy je ver? Je luy fais trop d'injure A moy qui suis tant infame et parjure, D'orgueil remply par mondaine raison De faulseté, malice et trahison.
Ce qu'ont promis mes amys au baptesme Et que depuis j'ay confermé moymesme (Qui est sans fin de vostre passion Sentir en moy mortification, Estre tousjours avecques vous en croix, Où vous avez cloué, comme je crois, Et rendu mortz la Mort et tout peché, Que souvent j'ay reprins et detaché), Rompu je l'ay, denyé et faulsé, Ayant sy fort ma volunté haulsé, Par un orgueil plein d'indiscretion, Que mon devoir et obligation Estoit du tout oublié par paresse. Et qui plus est, le bien de la promesse Que j'euz de vous le jour de mon baptesme, Et vostre amour, j'en ay fait tout de mesme.
Que diray je? Encores que souvent De mon malheur vous vinsiez au devant, En me donnant tant d'advertissementz Par parole, par Foy, par sacrementz, M'admonnestant par predication, Me consolant par la reception De vostre corps tresdigne, et sacré sang, Me promettant de me remettre au rang Des bienheureux en parfaite innocence. J'ay tous ces biens remis en oubliance Souvent vous ay ma promesse rompue, Car trop estoit ma povre ame repue De mauvais pain et damnable doctrine, En desprisant secours et medecine : Et quand aussi l'eusse voulu querir, Nul ne congnois qu'eusse peu requerir ; Car il n'y a homme, ny saint, ny ange, Par qui le cœur jamais d'un pecheur change
Las! bon JESUS, voyant ma cecité, Et que secours en ma necessité Ne puis avoir d'aucune creature, De mon salut avez fait l'ouverture. Quelle bonté, mais quelle grand' douceur ! Est il pere à fille, ou frere à sœur, Qui un tel tour jamais eust voulu faire, Tant fust il doux, piteux et debonnaire : Venir d'enfer mon ame secourir, Où contre vous elle vouloit perir ? Sans vous aymer, las! vous l'avez aymée. O charité ! ardente et enflammée, Vous n'estes pas d'aymer froid ne remis, Qui aymez tous, voire voz ennemis ; Non seulement leur voulant pardonner Leur grefve offense, ains vous mesmes donner Pour leur salut, liberté, delivrance, A mort et croix, travail, peine et souffrance.
Quand j'ay pensé qui est l'occasion Dont vous m'aymez, rien que dilection Je ny puis voir, qui vous mesmes incite A me donner ce que je ne merite.
Donques, mon DIEU, à ce que je puis voir, De mon salut le gri ne doy sçavoir Fors à vous seul, à qui j'en doy l'honneur, Comme à mon DIEU, Sauveur et Createur. Mais qu'est cecy ? Pour moy vous faites tant, Et nonobstant vous n'estes pas content De m'avoir fait de mes pechés pardon, Et d'abondant, de la grace le don.
Bien suffiroit, saillant de tel danger, De me traiter ainsi qu'un estranger. Mais comme sœur mere (si dire l'ouse) Traitez mon ame, et ainsi comme espouse. Moy, Monseigneur, moy, qui digne ne suis Pour demander du pain, approcher l'huis Du treshault lieu où est votre demeure ! Et qu'est cecy? Tout soudain en ceste heure Daigner tirer mon ame en tell' haultesse Qu'elle se sent de mon corps la maistresse ! Elle povrette, ignorante, impotente, Se sent en vous riche, sage et puissante, Pour luy avoir au cœur escrit le rolle De vostre Esprit et sacrée Parole, En luy donnant Foy pour la recevoir, Qui luy a fait vostre filz concevoir ; En le croyant homme, DIEU, Salvateur, De fous pecheurs le vray restaurateur. Parquoy daignez rasseurer qu'ell est Mere De vostre filz, dont vous estes seul Pere.
Et qui plus est, mon DIEU, voicy grand cas, De faire bien vous ne vous lassez pas ; Quand vostre filz plein de divinité A prins le corps de nostre humanité Et s'est meslé avecques nostre cendre : Ce que sans Foy nul ne pourroit entendre, Il vous a pleu de nous tant l'approcher Qu'il s'est uny avecques nostre chair ; Qui le voyant (comme soy) nommé homme, Se dit sa Sœur, et Frere elle le nomme. Bien doit avoir le cœur ferme et asseur Qui de son DIEU se peult dire la Sœur. Apres, venez par grand' dilection Luy declarer que sa creation N'est seulement que par le bon vouloir Qu'il vous a pleu tousjours à elle avoir, En l'asseurant qu'avant son premier jour, La prevoyant, y avez eu amour.
Par celle amour engendrée l'avez, Comme vous seul bien faire le sçavez ; Et puis apres dens ce corps l'avez mise, Non pour dormir, ne pour estre remise, Mais pour tous deux n'avoir autre exercice Que de penser à vous faire service : Alors luy fait bien sentir Verité Qu'en vous y a vraye paternité.
O quel honneur, quel bien et quelle gloire A l'ame qui sans cesse ha la memoire Qu'elle de vous est fille ! Et vous nommant Pere, elle fait vostre commandement. Qu'y a il plus? est ce tout? Helas! non : Il vous plaist bien luy donner autre nom, Vostre Espouse la nommer, et de vous, Vous appeller son mary et espoux ; Luy declarant comme de franc courage Avez juré d'elle le mariage. Fait luy avez au Baptesme promesse De luy donner vostre bien et richesse. Ses maux prenez, car riens que peché n'ha, Lequel Adam son pere lui donna.
Donques ne sont ses thresors que pechés, Lesquelz sur vous vous avez attachez ; Entierement avez payé sa debte, Et de voz biens et tresgrande recepte, L'ayez sy bien enrichie et douée Que se sentant de vous femme advouée, Quitte se tient de tout ce qu'elle doit, Peu estimant ce que ça bas ell' voit. Son pere vieil, et tous les biens qu'il donne, Pour son espoux de bon cœur abandonée.
Vraiment, Mon DIEU, mon ame est bien gastée, Estre par vous de tel bien appastée, Et de laisser le plaisir de la terre Pour l'infiny, là où est paix sans guerre. Je m'esbahis que tout soudainement Elle ne sort de son entendement. Je m'esbahis qu'elle ne devient folle En perdant sens, contenance et parole. Que puis je, helas! ô mon Pere, penser? Osera bien mon esprit s'avancer De vous nommer Pere? Ouy, et nostre : Ainsi l'avez dit en la Patenostre.
Or Pere donc, mais vostre fille, quoy, L'avez vous dit! Mon DIEU, dites le moy. Helas ! ouy, quand par grande douceur Dites : Fille, prestez moy vostre cœur ; O mon Pere, en lieu d'en faire prest, De se donner à vous du tout est prest : Recevez le et ne vueillez permettre Que loing de vous nully le puisse mettre Et qu'à jamais en fermeté loyale Il vous ayme d'une amour filiale.
Mais, Monseigneur, si vous estes mon Pere, Puis je penser que je suis vostre Mere? Vous engendrer, vous, par qui je suis faite, C'est bien un cas dont ne sçay la deffaitte ; Mais la raison a ma doute bien meites, Quand en preschant, estendant voz bras, distes : Ceux qui feront le vouloir de mon Pere, Mes freres sont, et ma sœur, et ma mere. Donques je croy qu'en oyant ou lisant La parolle que vous estes disant, Et qu'avez dit par voz Saintz et Prophetes, Et qu'encores par voz bons prescheurs faites ; En la croyant, desirant fermement De l'accomplir du tout entierement, Que par amour je vous ay engendré Donques sans peur, nom de Mere prendray. Mere de DIEU, douce vierge Marie, Ne soyez pas de ce tiltre marrie. Nul larrecin ne fais, ny sacrilege, Rien ne pretens sur vostre privilege : Car vous (sans plus) avez sur toute femme Receu de luy l'honneur sy grand, ma dame, Que nul esprit de soy ne peult comprendre, Comme a voulu en vous nostre chair prendre,
Et mere et vierge estes parfaitement, Avant, apres, et en l'enfantement. En vostre saint ventre l'avez porté, Nourry, servy, allaicté, conforté ; Suivy avez ses predications, L'accompagnant en tribulations. Bref, vous avez de DIEU trouvé la grace, Que l'ennemy par malice et fallace Avoit du tout fait perdre, en verité, Au povre Adam et sa posterité.
Par Eve et luy nous l'avions tous perdue, Par vostre filz elle nous est rendue. Vous en avez esté pleine nommée, Dont n'en est pas faulse la renommée. Car de vertuz, et de grace, et de dons Faute n'ayez, puis que le bon des bons, Et la source de bonté et puissance (Qui vous a faite en sy pure innocence Que de vertuz à tous estes exemple) A fait de vous sa demeure et son Temple. En vous il est par amour confermée, Et vous en luy ravie et transformé De cuyder mieux vous louer, c'est blaspheme. Il n'est louenge telle que de DIEU mesme.
Foy avez eu sy tresferme et constante, Qu'elle a esté par la grace puissante De vous faire du tout deïfier. Parquoy ne veux cuyder edifier Louenge à vous plus grande que l'honneur Que vous a fait le souverain Seigneur : Car vous estes sa mere corporelle, Et mere encor par Foy spirituelle. Mais, en suyvant vostre Foy humblement, Mere je suis spirituellement.
Mais, mon Sauveur, de la fraternité Qu'avez à moy par vostre humilité, M'appelant sœur, en avez vous rien dit ? Helas ! ouy, car du pere maudit Avez rompu la filiation En me nommant fille d'adoption.
Or donques, puis que nous n'avons qu'un Pere, Je ne craindray de vous nommer mon frere. Vous l'avez dit en lieu bien autentique, Par Salomon, en vostre doux cantique Disant: «Ma sœur, tu as navré mon cœur, Ta as navré mon cœur par la douceur D'un de tes yeux et d'un de tes cheveux.» Las ! mon doux frere, autre bien je ne veux Que, vous navrant, navrée me sentir Par vostre amour, bien m'y veux consentir.
Pareillement espouse me clamez En ce lieu là, monstrant que vous m'aymez, Et m'appellez, par vraye amour jalouse, Vostre Colombe, et aussi vostre Espouse. Parquoy diray, par amoureuse Foy, Qu'à vous je suis, et vous estes à moy. Vous me nommez amye, espouse et belle ; Si je le suis, vous m'avez faite telle. Las ! vous plaist il telz noms me departir ? Dignes ilz sont de faire un cœur partir, Mourir, brusler par amour importable, Pensant l'honneur trop plus que raisonnable.
Mere, comment mere? las! de quel enfant ? C'est d'un tel filz, que tout le cœur m'en fend, Mon filz, mon DIEU, ô JESUS, quel langage ! Et pere, et fille, ô bienheureux lignage ! Que de douceur, que de suavité Me va causant ceste paternité ! Mais quell' amour doy je avoir? filiale.
Quelle crainte? bien reverentiale. Mon Pere, quoy? voire et mon Createur, Mon protecteur et mon conservateur. Vostre sœur? las ! voicy grand' amitié. Or, fendez vous, mon cœur, par la moitié Et faites place à ce frere tant doux, Et que luy seul soit enfermé en vous Sans qu'autre nom jamais y tienne lieu, Fors JESUS seul, mon frere, filz de DIEU ; A nul autre ne veux rendre la place, Pour batterie ou mine qu'on me face.
Gardez mon cœur, mon frere, mon amy, Et n'y laissez entrer vostre ennemy. O mon bon frere, enfant, pere et espoux, Les jointes mains humblement à genoux, Graces vous rendz, mercy, gloire et louenge, Dont il vous plaist, moy terre, cendre et fange, A vous tourner et mon cœur convertir ; Et sy tresbien de grace me vestir Et me couvrir, que mes maux et pechés Ne voyez plus, tant les avez cachez : Si que de vous semblent en oubly mis, Voire et de moy qui les ay tous commis. Foy et amour m'en donnent oubliance, Mettant du tout en vous seul ma fiance.
Donc, à mon Pere ! où gist amour non feinte, De quoy fault il qu'en mon cœur j'aye crainte? Je recongnois avoir fait tous les maux Que faire on peult ; et que rien je ne vaux, Et que vous ay, comme l'enfant prodigue, Abandonné, suyvant la folle ligue, Où despendu j'ay toute ma substance, Et tous voz biens receuz en abondance ; Mais povreté m'a seiché comme fein, Et mon esprit rendu tout mort de faim, Cerchant manger le relief des Pourceaux, Mais peu de goust trouvois en telz morseaux. Dont en voyant mon cas mal attourné, Mon Pere, à vous, par vous, suis retourné. Las ! j'ay peché au Ciel et devant vous : Digne ne suis (je le dis devant tous) Me dire enfant; mais, Pere debonnaire, Ne me fais pis que à un mercenaire.
Las ! qu'est cecy? pas n'avez attendu Mon oraison, mais avez estendu La dextre main, me venant recevoir, Quand ne pensois que me daignissiez voir.
En lieu d'avoir par vous punition, Vous m'asseurez de ma salvation. Ou est celuy donc qui me punira Quand mon peché mon Dieu luy niera ? Juge n'est point qui puisse condemner Nul, puis que DIEU ne le veult point damner. Doute je n'ay d'avoir faute de biens, Puis que Mon DIEU pour mon Pere je tiens. Mon ennemy nul mal ne me fera, Car son povoir mon Pere deffera. Si je doy rien, il rendra tout pour moy ; Si j'ay gaigné la mort, luy, comme Roy, Me donnera grace et misericorde, Me delivrant de prison et de corde.
Mais voicy pis: Quelle mere ay je esté, Apres avoir par Foy et seureté Receu le nom de vraye et bonne mere ! Trop je vous ay esté rude et amere ; Car vous ayant conceu et enfanté, Laissant raison subjette à volunté, Sans vous garder, je me suis endormie, Et donné lieu à ma grande ennemie, Qui en la nuict d'ignorance, en dormant, Vous a robbé pres de moy : finement En vostre lieu m'a mis le sien tout mort. Perdu vous ay, qui m'est un dur remord, Perdu vous ay, par ma faute, mon filz, Car trop de vous mauvaise garde feiz.
Ma voisine, ma sensualité En mon dormir de bestialité Privée m'a de vous par son envie, En me donnant un autre enfant sans vie, Qui est Peché, duquel je ne veux point. Je le quitte du tout, voyla le poinct. Elle m'a dit qu'il est mien ; c'est à elle : Car aussi tost que vins à la chandelle De la grace, que vous m'avez donnée, Je congnuz bien ma gloire estre tournée, Voyant le mort, n'estre mien ; car le vif Qu'elle avoit prins estoit le mien naif. Entre JESUS et Peché est le change Trop apparent. Mais voicy cas estrange : Ceste vieille me feit le mort tenir, Qu'elle dit mien et le veult maintenir.
O juge vray, Salomon veritable, Ouy avez le procez lamentable Et ordonné, contentant les parties. Que mon enfant fust mist en deux parties. A cela s'est la traistresse accordée ; Mais quand me suis de mon filz recordée, Plus tost en veux souffrir privation, Que de son corps la separation : Car vraye amour bien parfaite et ardente De la moité jamais ne se contente. J'ayme trop mieux du tout pleurer ma perte Que de l'avoir à demy recouverte. Peu satisfait aurois à mon envie, Si la moytié de luy avois sans vie. Las! donnez luy plus tost l'enfant vivant. Bien meilleur m'est que je meure devant Que de souffrir JESUS CHRIST divisé.
Mais, Monseigneur, mieux avez advisé ; Car en voyant mon mal en tout endroit, Et que plus tost renonçois mon droit Que de souffrir cruauté sy amere, Distes de moy : Ceste est la vraye mere ; En me faisant mon enfant rebailler, Pour qui voyez mon cœur tant travailler.
O doux JESUS, vous ay je retrouvé ; Après avoir par ennuy esprouvé Si vous aymois; moy qui vous ay perdu, A moy mesmes vous vous estes rendu. Las, daignez vous à celle revenir, Qui par peché ne vous a peu tenir? Mon doux enfant, mon filz, ma nourriture, De qui je suis treshumble creature, Ne permettez que jamais je vous laisse : Car du passé me repens et confesse.
Or venez donc, ma sensualité, Venez, pechés de toute qualité ; Vous n'avez pas povoir par nul effort De me faire recevoir l'enfant mort : Celuy que j'ay est fort pour me defendre, Qui mesmes luy ne se lais'ra plus prendre. Desja est grand et plus fort que nul homme Parquoy je puis dormir et prendre somme Aupres de luy : car tout bien regardé, Me gardera mieux que ne l'ay gardé. Bien reposer me puis donc, ce me semble.
O quel repos de mere et filz ensemble ! Mon doux enfant, mon DIEU, honneur et gloire Soit à vous seul, et à chacun notoire, De ce qu'il plaist à vostre humilité, Moy, moins que rien, toute nichilité, Mere nommer ; plus est le cas estrange, Et plus en ha vostre bonté louenge.
Plus que jamais à vous me sentz tenue, Dont il vous plaist, Sœur m'avoir retenue. Sœur je vous suis ; mais c'est sœur sy mauvaise, Que mieux pour moy vault que ce nom je taise : Car oubliant l'honneur du parentage, L'adoption de sy noble lignage, Vostre tant doux et fraternel recueil, Montée suis contre vous en orgueil. De mes forfaitz ne me suis recordée ; Mais m'esloingnant de vous, suis accordée Avec Aaron, mon frere, en trahison, Voulant donner à voz œuvres raison, En murmurant de vous tout en secret Qui me devroit donner un grand regret.
Helas ! mon DIEU , mon frere et vray Moïse, Tresdebonnaire et tresdoux sans feintise, Qui faites tout en bonté et justice, J'ay estimé voz œuvres estre vice, Et dire osant par façon trop legere : Pourquoy av'ous espousé l'estrangere ? Vous nous donnez Loy et punition Sans y vouloir avoir subjection. Vous nous faites de mal faire defense, Et pareil mal faites sans conscience. Vous defendez de tuer à chacun ; Mais vous tuez, sans espargner aucun De vingt trois mil, que vous feistes defaire. Commandement DIEU par vous nous feit faire, De n'espouser fille de l'estranger ; Mais vostre espouse en prinstes sans danger. Mon frere, helas ! tant de telles paroles, Que je congnois et sçay bien estre foles, Avec Aaron (qui est mon propre sens) Je vous ay dit : dont le regret j'en sentz.
Mais par grace la vive voix de DIEU Bien me reprint avant partir du lieu. Que feistes vous alors? de mon peché, Las ! mon frere, vous fustes empesché ; Non pour prier pour ma punition, Mais pour mon bien et ma remission, En demandant pour tresgrand benefice Qu'il pleust à DIEU mitiguer sa justice : Ce que du tout ne peustes obtenir, Car me convint lepreuse devenir, A celle fin qu'en voyant mon visage Chacun congnust que n'avois esté sage.
Ainsi je fuz mise, comme ladresse, Dehors du parc du peuple et de la presse : Car mieux ne peult une ame estre punie, Que d'eslongner la sainte compaignie Des vertueux, fideles, bons et saintz, Qui par peché ne sont ladres, mais sains. Mais qu'av'ous fait, voyant ma repentance ? Tost avez mis fin à ma penitence ; Par vraye amour, en vous non sejournée, Avez prié ; et je suis retournée.
O frere doux, qui en lieu de punir Sa folle sœur, la veult à luy unir, Et pour murmure, injure ou grande offense, Grace et amour luy donne en recompense. C'est trop, c'est trop, helas ! c'est trop, mon frere ; Point ne devez à moy sy grans biens faire. J'ay fait le mal, vous me rendez le bien ; Vostre je suis, et vous vous dites mien ; Vostre je suis, et vostre doublement, Et estre veux vostre eternellement. Plus je ne crains d'Aaron la grand' folie ; Nul ne sera, qui de vous me deslie.
Or puis que frere et sœur ensemble sommes Il me chault peu de tous les autres hommes ; Vostre terre, c'est mon vray heritage ; Ne faisons plus, s'il vous plaist, qu'un mesnage. Puis qu'il vous plaist tant vous humilier, Que vostre cœur avec le mien lier, En vous faisant homme naïvement, Je vous en rendz graces treshumblement ; Comme je doy n'est pas en ma puissance Prenez mon cœur, excusez l'ignorance. Puis que je suis de sy bonne maison Et vostre sœur, mon DIEU, j'ay bien raison De vous louer, aymer, servir sans feindre, Et rien, fors vous, ne desirer ne craindre. Gardez moy donc, à vous me recommande : Point d'autre frere ou amy ne demande.
Si pere a eu de son enfant mercy, Si mere a eu pour son filz du soucy, Si frere à sœur a couvert le peché, Je n'ay point veu, ou il est bien caché, Que nul Mary, pour à luy retourner, Ayt à sa femme onc voulu pardonner. Assez en est qui pour venger leur tort, Par jugement les ont fait mettre à mort. Autres, voyans leur peché, tout soudain A les tuer n'ont espargné leur main. Autres, voyans leurs maux trop apparentz, Renvoyées les ont chez leurs parentz. Autres, cuydans punir leur mauvais tour, Enfermées les ont dens une tour. Bref, regardez toutes complexions, La fin n'en tend qu'à grands punitions. Et le moins mal que j'en ay peu sçavoir, C'est que jamais ilz ne les veulent voir. Plus tost feriez tourner le firmament Que d'un Mary faire l'appointement, Quand il est seur du peché qu'elle a fait, Pour l'avoir veüe ou prinse en son meffait.
Parquoy, mon DIEU , nulle comparaison, Ne puis trouver en nul temps ne saison ; Mais par amour, qui est en vous sy ample, Estes icy seul et parfait exemple.
Icy, mon DIEU, plus que jamais confesse Que je vous ay faulsé foy et promesse. Las ! espouse m'aviez constituée, Et en l'estat d'honneur restituée ; (Mais quel honneur? d'estre au lieu de l'espouse, Qui doucement pres de vous se repouse : De tous voz biens, royne, maistresse et dame, En seureté d'honneur, de corps et d'ame), Vilaine moy, ce que fault que n'oublie, Par vous tresnoble, noblement anoblie. Bref, plus et mieux qu'on ne peult desirer Avois de vous ; dont sans fin souspirer Doit bien mon cœur, jusqu'à partir du corps, Et par plourer mes yeux saillir dehors. Trop ne pourroit ma bouche faire criz, Veu que nouveaux ny anciens escritz N'ont jamais fait sy piteux cas entendre, Comme celuy dont compte je veux rendre. Le diray je? l'oseray je annoncer ?
Le pourray je sans honte prononcer ? Helas ! ouy, car ma confusion Est pour monstrer la grand' dilection De mon Espoux ; parquoy je ne fais compte, Pour son honneur, de declarer ma honte.
O mon Sauveur, pour moy mort crucifix, Ce fait n'est tel que de laisser un filz, Ny, comme enfant, son bon pere offenser, Ny, comme sœur, murmurer et tenser. Las, c'est bien pis ; car, plus grande est l'offense, Ou plus y a d'amour et congnoissance, Plus on reçoit de son DIEU privauté, Plus luy faillir est grand' desloyauté.
Moy, qui estois nommée espouse et femme, De vous aymée comme vostre propre ame, En diray je la verité ? ouy. Laissé vous ay, oublié et fouy. Laissé vous ay, pour suyvre mon plaisir ; Laissé vous ay, pour un mauvais choisir Laissé vous ay, source de tout mon bien, Laissé vous ay, en rompant le lien De vraye amour et loyauté promise. Laissé vous ay ; mais où me suis je mise ? Au lieu où n'a que malediction. Laissé vous ay, l'amy sans fiction, L'amy de tous digne d'estre estimé, L'amy aymant premier que d'estre aymé. Laissé vous ay, ô source de bonté, Par ma mauvaise et seule volunté.
Laissé vous ay, le beau, le bon, le sage, Le fort de bras et le doux de courage. Laissé vous ay, et, pour mieux me retraire De Vostre amour, ay prins vostre contraire. C'est l'Ennemy, et le Monde, et la Chair, Qui sur la croix vous ont cousté sy cher, Pour les convaincre, et mettre en liberté Moy, qui par eux long temps avois esté Dens la prison, esclave, et tant liée, Que ne povois plus estre humiliée, Et qui me suis de tous trois acointée, Et de tous cas avec eux appointée. Et propre amour, qui trop est faulse et feinte, A charité de vous en moy esteinte, Tant que le nom de JESUS mon espoux, (Que par avant j'avois trouvé si doux) Avois quasi en hayne et fascherie, Et bien souvent en faisois moquerie. Si l'on disoit en oyant un sermon : Il a bien dit, je respondois : Ce a mon. La parole s'en voloit comme plume. A l'Eglise n'allois que par coustume. Tous mes beaux faitz n'estoyent qu'hipocrisie, Car j'avois bien ailleurs ma phantasie.
Il m'ennuyoit d'ouyr de vous parler ; J'aymois bien mieux à mon plaisir aller.
Pour faire court, tout ce que defendez Je le faisois, et ce que commandez Je le fayois et le trouvoye amer, Tout par faulte, mon DIEU, de vous aymer.
Mais, Monseigneur, pour vous avoir hay, Abandonné, laissé, fuy, trahy, Pour vostre lieu à un autre donner, Me regardant à luy abandonner, A'vous souffert que je fusse huée, Monstrée au doigt, ou battue, ou tuée ? M'avez vous mise en prison tresobscure, Ou bannie, sans avoir de moy cure ? M'a'vous osté voz dons et voz joyaux Pour me punir de mes tours desloyaux ? Ay je perdu mon douaire promis, Pour les pechés qu'envers vous j'ay commis ? Suis je par vous en justice accusée, Comme une femme en malheur abusée ? A tout le moins, a'vous point fait defense Que jamais plus devant vostre presence N'eusse à venir, comme c'estoit raison, Ne plus rentrer dedens vostre maison? O vray espoux, mary inestimable, Parfait amy, sur tous les bons amable, Vous avez bien en moy fait autrement Car vous m'avez quise diligemment, Comme brebis errante au plus profond Du puitz d'Enfer où tous les maux se font ; Moy, qui estois de vous tant separée, Et en mon cœur et mon sens esgarée, Appellée m'avez à haulte voix, En me disant : ô ma fille, oy et vois,
Et envers moy encline ton ouye ; Le peuple aussi, où tu t'en es fuye Vueille oublier, et de ton premier Pere La grand'maison, où as fait ton repaire Et le Roy plein de toute loyauté Convoitera à l'heure ta beauté.
Mais quand ce doux et gracieux prier Ne me servoit, lors vous veniez crier : Venez à moy, vous tous qui par labeur Estes lassez et chargez de douleur ; Je suis celuy qui vous accepteray, Et de mon pain refectionneray.
Las, tous ces motz ne voulois escouter ; Mais encores je venois à douter Si c'estoit vous, ou si, par adventure, Ce n'estoit rien qu'une simple escriture. Car jusques là j'estoye bien sy fole, Que sans amour lisois vostre parole. Je voyois bien que les comparaisons De la vigne, qui vous donnoit poisons, Et labrusques en lieu de fruit parfait, Estoyent pour moy qui avois ainsi fait.
Assez pensois que les vocations De l'espouse et appellations, Disans : Tournez, retournez Sulamithe, Estoyent afin que de tout le limite De mon peché je voulsisse saillir, Où en pitié me voyez defaillir. De tout cela semblant ne faisois mie ; Mais, quand je vins à lire Hieremie, Certes je dis que j'euz en ce passage Crainte en mon cœur et honte en mon visage. Je le diray, voire la l'arme à l'oeil, A vostre honneur, rabaissant mon orgueil.
Vous avez dit par vostre saint Prophete, Si au mary la femme s'est forfaite, En le laissant, pour d'un autre abuser, Jamais ne fut, ny lon n'a veu user Que le mary la vueille r'appeller, Ny plus la voir, ny à elle parler. N'est elle pas estimée pollue, Et tresmechante et de nulle value ? La Loy consent à Justice la rendre Et la chasser, sans la voir ne reprendre.
Mais toy qui as fait separation De mon doux lict, pour fornication Avec autruy meschantement commettre, Et en mon lieu tes faux amateurs mettre, A moy tu peux toutesfois revenir. Car contre toy courroux ne veux tenir. Lieve tes yeux et regarde bien droit, Et tu voirras en quel lieu et endroit, Eshontément ton peché ta menée, Et où tu gis en terre prosternée. Ame, regarde en quel lieu tu t'es mise, Au fin mylieu du grand chemin assise, Où tous passans pour mal tu attendois. A autre fin, certes, tu ne tendois. Comme un larron caché en solitude, A les tromper tu mettois ton estude. Parquoy ayant ta malice acomplie, Autour de toy as la terre remplie De ton immunde et orde infection, Couverte l'as de fornication ; Ton oeil, ton front, ton visage et ta face Avoit changé du tout sa bonne grace ; Car tell' estoit que d'une meretrice : Et si n'as eu vergongne de ton vice.
Et le surplus que Hieremie dit, Qui contraingnoit mon cœur, sans contredit, De contempler mon estat malheureux, Et regretter par souspirs douloureux, L'heure, le jour, le temps, le mois, l'année, Que vous laissay, me rendant condemnée, Mesmes par moy jugeant mon cœur infame, D'estre sans fin en l'eternelle flamme. Ce craindre là (qui de moy ne procede, Mais vient de vous et tout plaisir excede), M'avoit quasi par vive congnoissance De mon peché mise en desesperance ; Si n'eust esté que ne m'avez laissée. Car aussi tost qu'avez veu abaissée Ma volunté soubz vostre obeissance, Avez usé de vostre grand' clemence, Mettant en moy une sy vive Foy, Que vous sachant Maistre, Seigneur et Roy, (De qui devois par raison avoir crainte) Par vraye amour senty ma peur esteinte, En vous croyant mary sy gratieux, Bon, doux, piteux, misericordieux, Que moy (qui tant me devoye cacher) Ne craingniz point de vous aller chercher.
A vous me suis vous cherchant retirée Mais paravant j'estois de vous tirée. Qu'avez vous fait? m'avez vous refusée ? Helas, mon DIEU, nenny, mais excusée. A'vous de moy tourné vostre regard ? Non, mais vostre oeil m'a esté un doux dard, Qui m'a navré le cœur jusqu'à la mort, En me donnant de mes pechés remord. Repoulsée ne m'avez de la main ; Mais à deux bras, d'un cœur doux et humain M'estes venu, m'embrassant, approcher, Sans mes defaultz en rien me reprocher. Point n'ay congnu, à vostre contenance, Qu'avez jamais apperceu mon offense.
Vous avez fait de moy aussi grand' feste Que si j'avois esté bonne et honneste, Couvrant à tous ma faulte et mon delict, Me redonnant la part de vostre lict ; En me monstrant que mes pechés divers Par la bonté de vous sont sy couvers Et sy vaincuz par vostre grand victoire, Que n'en voulez jamais avoir memoire, Et que dens moy la grace avez enclose, Qui ne permet que voyez autre chose, Sinon les dons donnez de vostre dextre, Et les vertuz qu'il vous a pleu y mettre.
O Charité, bien voy que vostre ardeur Icy defait, et brusle ma laydeur, Et me refait creature nouvelle, Pleine de DIEU, qui me fait estre belle. Ce qui est mien avez du tout destruit, Sans y laisser renommée ne bruit, En me daignant sy parfaite refaire, Que tout le bien, qu'un vray espoux peult faire A son espouse, vous l'avez fait à moy En me donnant de vos promesses Foy.
Or, ay je donc par vostre bonne grace De l'espouse recouverte la place : Bienheureux lieu, place tant desirable, Gratieux lict, throne treshonnorable, Siege de paix, repos de toute guerre, Haultdais d'honneur separé de la terre, Recevez vous ceste indigne personne, Me redonnant le sceptre et la couronne De vostre Empire et Royaume de gloire? Qui onc ouyt parler de telle histoire, De moins que rien eslever sy treshault, Faire valoir qui de soy rien ne vault?
Las, qu'est cecy ? jettant en hault ma veüe, Je voy en vous bonté sy incongnue, Grace et amour sy incomprehensible, Que la veüe m'en demeure invisible, Et mon regard fait par force cesser, Qui me contraint en bas les yeux baisser. A l'heure voy en ce regard terrestre, Ce que je suis et que j'ay voulu estre. Helas, je y voy de mes maux la laideur, L'obscurité, l'extreme profondeur, Ma mort, mon rien et ma nichilité, Qui rend mon oeil clos par humilité ; Le bien de vous, qui est tant admirable ; Le mal de moy, trop inconsiderable ; Vostre hauteur, vostre essence trespure ; Ma tresfragile et mortelle nature ; Voz dons, voz biens, vostre beatitude, Et ma malice, et grande ingratitude ; Quel vous m'estes et quelle je vous suis ; Ce que voulez et ce que je poursuis : Qui me fait bien sans fin esmerveiller, Comme sy fort vous a pleu travailler, Pour vous unir à moy contre raison, Veu qu'il n'y a nulle comparaison. Vous estes DIEU, je suis vostre facture ; Mon Createur, moy vostre creature ; Bref, ne povant ce que c'est diffinir, C'est ce que moins à vous se peult unir.
Amour, amour, vous avez fait l'accord, Faisant unir à la vie la mort. Mais l'union à mort vivifiée, Vie mourant d'amour verifié, Vie sans fin à fait nostre mort vive. Mort a donné à vie mort naïve. Par ceste mort, moy morte reçoy vie ; Et au vivant par la mort suis ravie. En vous je vy, quand en moy je suis morte, Mort ne m'est plus que d'une prison porte.
Vie m'est mort ; car par mort suis vivante. Vie me rend bien triste et mort contente. O quel mourir qui fait mon âme vivre, En la rendant par mort de mort delivre, Unie à vous, par amour sy puissante, Que sans mourir elle meurt languissante.
A elle tort l'ame qui mort voudroit Pour un tel bien? nenny, elle ha bon droit Car pour avoir vie tant estimée, Bien doit nommer la mort sa bien aymée.
O douce mort, gratieuse douleur, Puissante clef, delivrant de malheur Ceux qui par mort estoyent mortifiez, Pour s'estre en vous et vostre mort fiez, Vous les avez mis par un doux dormir Hors de la mort qui les faisoit gemir.
Las ! bienheureux est de mort le sommeil, A qui la vie advient à son reveil. Par vostre mort la mort n'est au Chrestien Que liberté de son mortel lien. La mort, qui est aux mauvais effrayable, Elle est aux bons plaisante et aggreable.
Or est donc mort par vostre mort destruite. Parquoy, mon DIEU, si j'estois bien instruite, La mort dirois vie, et la vie, mort : Fin de labeur, entrée du seur port : Car de vie la grand'fruition M'empesche trop de vostre vision.
O mort, venez, rompez moy cest obstacle, Ou bien, amour, faites en moy miracle. Puis que par mort encores ne puis voir Mon doux Espoux, par vostre grand povoir Transformez moy en luy toute vivante, Et en repos j'attendray mieux l'attente. Faites moy donc en luy vivant mourir, Autre que vous ne me peult secourir.
O mon Sauveur, par Foy je suis plantée, Et par amour en vous, jointe et entée. Quelle union, quelle bienheureté, Puis que par Foy j'ay de vous seureté Nommer vous puis par amour hardiment Filz, Pere, Espoux et Frere, entierement Pere, Filz, Frere et Mary : ô quelz dons, De me donner le bien de tous ces noms! O mon Pere, quelle paternité ! O mon Frere, quelle fraternité ! O mon Enfant, quelle dilection ! O mon Espoux, quelle conjonction ! Pere, envers moy plein de mansuetude ; Frere, ayant prins nostre similitude ; Filz, engendré par Foy et Charité ; Mary, aymant en toute extremité.
Mais qui est ce que vous aymez? helas, Celle qu'avez retirée des laqs, Où elle estoit liée par malice, Luy redonnant le lieu, nom et office De Fille, Sœur, Mere, Espouse. O Sauveur, Ceste douceur est de grande saveur, Et tresplaisante et tresdouce à gouster, Parler à vous, ou bien vous escouter. Vous appellant Pere (parlant à vous Sans crainte avoir), Enfant, Frere et Espoux, Vous escoutant, je m'oy Mere nommer, Sœur, Fille, Espouse. Las, c'est pour consommer Fondre, brusler, du tout aneantir L'ame qui peult ceste douceur sentir.
Est il amour aupres de ceste cy, Qui trop ne soit pleine de mauvais Si ? Est il plaisir dont lon peust tenir compte? Est il honneur que lon n'estime à honte ? Est il profit que lon deust estimer? Bref, est il rien que plus je sceusse aymer Helas nenny, car tous ces mondains biens, Qui ayme DIEU, repute moins que siens. Plaisir, profit et honneur sont corvée A qui l'amour de son DIEU a trouvée.
Amour de DIEU est si plaisant profit, Et tant d'honneur, que seule au cœur suffit. Elle le rend content (je le puis dire) Tant que rien plus ne veult, ny ne desire. Car qui ha DIEU, ainsi qu'il le commande, Oultrageux est ; qui autre bien demande.
Or je vous ay par une Foy latente, Parquoy je suis satisfaite et contente. Or vous ay je, mon Pere, pour defense Des folles de ma trop longue enfance. Or vous ay je, mon Frere, pour secours De mes ennuyz que je ne trouve courtz. Or vous ay je, mon Filz, de ma vieillesse Le seul baston, support de ma foiblesse. Or vous ay je l'espoux sans fiction, De tout mon cœur la satisfaction. Puis que vous ay, je quitte le surplus. Puis que vous tiens, je ne vous lais'ray plus. Puis que vous voy, rien ne veux regarder, Qui de vous voir me puisse retarder.
Puis que vous oy, autre ne veux je ouyr, Qui m'empeschast de vostre voix jouyr. Puis que propos à vous je puis tenir, Autre que vous ne veux entretenir. Puisqu'il vous plaist pres de vous m'approcher, Plustost voudrois mourir qu'autre toucher. Puis que vous sers, je ne veux autre maistre. Puis qu'à vous suis, à autre ne peux estre. Puis que mon cœur au vostre avez uny, S'il s'en depart, qu'il soit sans fin puny. Car plus dur est que la damnation, Sentir de vous la separation. Dix mille enfers n'estime tant de peine, Que de vous perdre un seul jour la sepmaine.
Helas, mon DIEU, mon Pere et Createur, Ne souffrez pas l'ennemy inventeur De tout peché, avoir ceste puissance, Que par luy sois hors de vostre presence, Car qui a fait de la substraction De vostre amour vraye approbation, Il dira bien qu'il vaudroit mieux en fer Estre lié à jamais en Enfer, Que retomber encor au seul moment Au mal qui fait de vous l'esloingnement. O mon Sauveur, plus ne le permettez : Mais en tel lieu, s'il vous plaist, me mettez, Que, par peché, mon ame, ou par folie, De vostre amour jamais ne se deslie.
Or icy bas ne puis parfaitement Avoir ce bien, qui me fait ardentment De tout mon cœur desirer l'yssue, Sans craindre mort, pic, paelle, ny massue. Car quelle peur de mon DIEU puis je avoir, Veu qu'a passé par amour son devoir, Et a prins mort dont il n'avoit que faire, Pour nostre mort par la sienne defaire Mort est JESUS, en qui tous morts nous sommes, Et en sa Mort fait vivre tous ses hommes Je dy les siens, qui de sa passion Ont par la Foy participation. Car où la mort, avant le grand mystere De ceste croix, estoit à tous austere, Et n'y avoit cœur qui n'en eust frayeur, En regardant sa face et sa rigueur, Veu l'union qui est de l'ame au corps, Et l'ordonnance, et l'amour, et accordz, Dont la douleur estoit du separer, Extreme acces pour tout desemparer : Depuis qu'il pleut au doux Agneau souffrir Dessus la croix, et pour nous là s'offrir, Sa grand' amour a allumé un feu En nostre cœur sy vehement, que jeu Tout bon Chrestien doit la Mort estimer, Et l'un l'autre à mourir animer. Et tout ainsi que peur nous retardoit, Amour desir de Mort donner nous doit. Car, si amour est au cœur, sans mentir Il ne sçauroit autre chose sentir Sy grand' elle est, qu'elle tient tout le lieu ; Tout met dehors, rien ny souffre que DIEU. Où est amour vraye et vive, sans feinte, Il ne souvient de peur, douleur ne crainte.
Si nostre orgueil, pour honneur acquerir, Fait de la Mort tant de moyens querir ; Si pour avoir un plaisir qui tant couste Lon met de mort en oubly crainte et doute ; Si pour avoir des richesses son saoul, Lon met sa vie en danger pour un soul ; Si le desir de robber ou tuer, Battre, tromper, fait l'esperit muer, Tant qu'il ne voit de la Mort le danger, Pour faire mal, ou d'autruy se venger ; Si la force d'une grand' maladie, Ou la douleur d'une melancholie, Desirer fait la Mort et souvent prendre Par se noyer soudain, tuer ou pendre (Car sy grant est le mal ou le desir, Qu'il fait la Mort pour liberté choisir) Si ainsi est, que ces grands passions, Pleines de mal et d'imperfections, De la Mort font peu craindre le hazard, Mais maintesfois leur semble venir tard, Que doit donc faire amour juste et louable, Bien obligée et plusque raisonnable, Ny que fera l'amour du Createur ? Doit elle point sy fort brusler un cœur Que, par l'effort de telle affection, Ne doit sentir nulle autre passion ? Helas, si fait ; car mort est chose heureuse A l'ame qui de luy est amoureuse, Et gratieuse elle estime la porte Par qui il fault que de sa prison sorte. Le dur chemin ne la sçauroit lasser, Par lequel va son espoux embrasser.
O mon vray DIEU, que ceste mort est belle, Par qui j'auray fin de toute querelle ; Par qui j'auray de vous fruition Et jouiray de vostre vision ; Par qui seray à vous sy conformée Que j'y seray divine transformée.
O Mort, par vous j'espere tant d'honneur, Qu'à deux genoux en cry, souspir et pleur, Je vous requiers, venez hastivement, Et mettez fin à mon gemissement.
O heureuses ames, filles tressaintes, Cantique. En la cité Ierusalem jointes, Baissez voz yeux par miseration, Et regardez ma desolation. Je vous supply que vous vueillez pour moi Dire à mon Dieu, mon amy, et mon roy, Luy annonçant à chasque heure du jour, Que je languiz pour luy de son amour. O douce mort, par ceste amour venez, Et par amour à mon DIEU me menez. O Mort, où est icy vostre pointure, Vostre aguillon, vostre rudesse dure? Helas, elle est de mes yeux divertie ; Car en douceur rigueur m'est convertie, Puis que par vous mon amy est passé, Et sur la Croix pour moy mort trespassé. Sa mort sy fort à mourir mon cœur poulse, Que vous m'estes pour le suyvir bien douce. O Mort, ô Mort, venez, quoy que lon die, Ensemble mettre avec l'amy l'amye.
Puisque la mort m'est vie sy plaisante, Que plus me plaist qu'elle ne m'espovente, Craindre ne doy sinon le jugement (Qui vient apres) de DIEU, qui point ne ment. Tous mes pechés par sa juste balance Seront poisez et mis en congnoissance. Ce que j'ay fait, mon penser, ma parole, Sera congnu, mieux escrit qu'en un rolle. Penser ne fault jamais, que Charité Vueille offenser Justice et Verité. Car, qui aura vescu comme infidele Puny sera de la peine eternelle. Tresjuste est DIEU, son jugement est droit ; Tout ce qu'il fait est juste en tout endroit. Las, où suis je, regardant sa droiture, Moy miserable et povre creature ? Veu que je sçay que toutes les justices Des plus parfaitz, sont sy pleines de vices, Que devant DIEU sont ordes, sales, viles, Voire trop plus qu'immundices des viles, Que sera ce des pechés que je fais, Dont trop je sens importable le faix ?
Dire ne puis autre conclusion, Sinon que j'ay gaigné damnation. Est ce la fin? sera desesperance Le reconfort de ma grande ignorance ? Las, mon DIEU, non : car la Foy invisible Croire me fait, que tout mon impossible Est tresfacile à vous, tant que mon Rien Convertissez en quelque œuvre de bien. Donc, Monseigneur, qui me condemnera ? Et quel Juge jamais me damnera, Quand celuy là qui m'est donné pour Juge Est mon Espoux, mon Pere et mon refuge ? Pere, mais quel? qui jamais son enfant Ne veult damner, mais l'excuse et defend.
Et puis, je voy n'avoir accusateur Que JESUS CHRIST, qui est mon Redempteur ; Qui par sa mort nous a restitué Nostre heritage, et s'est constitué Nostre advocat, devant DIEU presentant Ses merites : qui sont et valent tant, Que ma grand' debte en est sy surmontée Que pour rien n'est en jugement comptée.
Mon Redempteur, voicy un bien grand cas, Peu se trouve il de sy bons Advocatz ! Doux JESUS CHRIST, c'est à vous que je doy, Car vous priez et plaidoyez pour moy. Et, qui plus est, quand povre me voyez De vostre bien ma grand' debte payez. O de bonté mer, abisme et deluge ; Mon Pere saint, daignez estre mon juge, Qui ne voulez voir la mort à pecheur. O JESUS CHRIST, des ames vray pescheur, Et seul Sauveur, amy sur tous amys, Mon advocat icy vous estes mis ; Parlant pour moy, me daignant excuser, Où me povez justement accuser.
Plus je ne crains de nulle estre deffaite, Car du tout est Justice satisfaite. Mon doux Espoux en a fait le paîment Sy suffisant et tant abondamment, Que rien ne peult ma justice vouloir Que de luy seul elle ne puisse avoir : Car il a prins tous mes pechés sur soy, Et m'a donné ses biens, comme je croy.
Quand voz vertuz, mon Sauveur, presentez, Certes assez Justice contentez. Quand elle veult mes vices reprocher, Vous luy monstrez qu'en vostre propre chair Vous les avez portez de bon courage, Par l'union de nostre mariage : Et sur la croix, par vostre passion En avez fait la satisfaction. Et qui plus est, par vostre Charité M'avez donné ce qu'avez merité. Parquoy, voyant vostre merite mien, Justice plus ne me demande rien ; Mais sa sœur Paix (comme toute appaisée Vous regardant) est doucement baisée.
Du Jugement n'auray donc plus de crainte, Mais par desir trop plus que par contrainte L'heure j'attens, que mon Juge voiray, Et jugement Juste de luy oyray. Si sçay je bien que vostre Jugement Est sy tresdroit, qu'il ne fault nullement, Et congnois bien mon infidelité, Digne d'Enfer et sa crudelité. Si seulement mon merite regarde, Rien je ne voy qui de ce feu me garde. Il est tout vray qu'il n'est que pour le Diable, Et n'est point fait pour l'homme raisonnable. Mais, toutesfois, s'il a mis son estude De l'ennemy prendre similitude, C'est bien raison que (comme luy) il soit Retribué à loyer qu'il reçoit.
Car si l'homme, par contemplation, Amour, vertu, bonté, perfection, De l'Ange tient et à la fin herite Au ciel, le lieu de semblable merite, Le vicieux en Enfer est puny, Avec celuy à qui il s'est uny. Puis qu'à Satan du tout s'est comparé, Il tient le lieu qui luy est preparé. Cecy bien peu mon esperit conforte, Pensant des deux la differente sorte Nier ne puis qu'au mauvais ne ressemble Trop plus qu'au bon : parquoy je crains et tremble : Car la vie est de l'Ange si celeste, Que rien n'en tiens : cela je le proteste. Mais de l'autre, j'en ay tant de semblance, Tant de malice et tant d'acoustumance, Que de son mal, de sa peine et tourment, Participer doy par vray jugement.
Grand et trop grand est le cruel peché Qui en Enfer m'a sy fort attaché. Enfer est fort, ne laissant rien saillir, Et si ne craint qu'on le vienne assaillir. Le Fort est fort, mais quand le Plusfort vient, Le Fort ne sçait que sa force devient. Peché est fort, qui en Enfer nous meine : Et ne voy nul qui, par merite ou peine, Ayt jamais sceu vaincre et tuer ce Fort, Fors celuy seul qui a fait tel effort Par Charité, que mort, humilié, Son ennemy a vaincu et lié, Enfer rompa, et brisé son povoir, Dont maintenant ne peult puissance avoir De plus tenir captive et en tutelle L'Ame qui est envers son DIEU fidele.
Parquoy croyant de luy la grand' vertu, Enfer, peché, je n'estime un festu. Dequoy me nuyt peché, si non de mieux Monstrer mon DIEU misericordieux, Fort et puissant, entierement vainqueur De tout le mal qui est dedens mon cœur ? Si mon peché pardonné, est la gloire De mon Sauveur, pareillement puis croire Qu'aussi la mienne est en ce augmentée, Puis qu'en luy suis inserée et entée. Son honneur seul honnore tous les siens, Et son thresor emplit chacun de biens.
Enfer est donc par luy à tout destruit, Peché vaincu, qui tant ha eu de bruyt. Goulu Enfer, où est vostre defense ? Vilain peché, où est vostre puissance ? O Mort! où est icy vostre victoire, Vostre aguillon, dont tant est de memoire? En nous cuydant donner mort, donnez vie, Et le rebours faites de vostre envie. Et vous, Peché, qui à damnation Voulez tirer tous, sans remission, Vous nous servez d'esperon et d'eschelle Pour atteindre Jerusalem la belle : Faire cuydant par maligne nature Au Createur perdre sa creature. Par sa grand grace avancez son retour, Et à son DIEU la faites, par amour, Plus que jamais revenir humblement, Et le servir et aymer doublement.
Sa grand' bonté vous fait perdre la peine Que vous prenez le long de la sepmaine. Parquoy Enfer n'a pas eu tout le nombre Qu'il pretendoit pour vous, pource que l'umbre Et la vertu de ceste passion Est à l'esprit telle protection, Qu'elle ne doit avoir ne peur ne doute De Mort, Peché, ne d'Enfer une goutte.
Y a il rien qui me puisse plus nuire, Si DIEU me veult par Foy à luy conduire ? J'entens la Foy toute telle, qu'il fault, Digne d'avoir le nom du don d'enhault : Foy, qui unit par Charité ardente Au Createur sa treshumble servante. Unie à luy, je ne puis avoir peur, Peine, travail, ennuy, mal, ne douleur Car avec luy, croix, mort et passion Ne peult estre que consolation. Trop foible suis en moy, en DIEU tresforte Car je puis tout en luy, qui me conforte. Son amour est sy ferme et pardurable Que pour nul cas elle n'est variable.
Qui sera ce donc qui me tirera De sa grace ? qui m'en separera ? Certes à Ciel la tresgrande hauteur, Ny de L'enfer l'abisme et profondeur, Ny la largeur de toute ceste terre, Mort, ne Peché, qui tant me fait de guerre, Ne me pourront separer un seul jour De la grande charité et amour Que mon pere, par JESUS CHRIST, me porte : Car son amour est de sy bonne sorte, Que sans l'aymer il m'ayme, et, en l'aymant, Par son amour sentz l'aymer doublement. Mon amour m'est pour l'aymer, mais la sienne En moy l'ayme, que je sentz comme mienne.
Il s'ayme donc en moy, et par m'aymer Il fait mon cœur par amour enflammer. Par ceste amour il se fait aymer tant, Que son effect (non moy), le rend content. Se contentant, tousjours il multiplie Trop plus d'amour, qu'amour ne luy supplie.
O vray amant, de Charité la source, Et du tresor divin la seule bourse, Doy je penser, ny oserois je dire, Que c'est de vous? Le puis je bien ecrire? Vostre bonté, vostre amour se peult elle Bien concevoir de personne mortelle? Et s'il vous plait un petit l'imprimer Dedens un cœur, la peult il exprimer ? Certes nenny : car sa capacité N'est pour tenir la grande immensité Qui est en vous, veu que vive raison Nous monstre bien n'avoir comparaison De l'infiny à la chose finie. Mais quand à luy par amour est unie, Sy remply est son Rien d'un peu de Tout, Qu'à declarer ne peult trouver le bout. Plus ha de bien qu'il m'en peult soustenir, Parquoy il croit tout le monde tenir.
Quand le Soleil d'une seule estincelle Aveugle l'oeil, sa grand' lumiere cele : Mais demandez à l'oeil qu'il a senty ; Il dira tout ; mais il aura menty Car aveuglé de petite lumiere, Il ne peult voir la grand' clarté entiere ; Et toutesfois demeure sy content, Qu'advis luy est, s'il en avoit autant, N'estre puissant pour povoir endurer Ceste clarté qu'il ne peult mesurer.
Aussi l'Esprit, qui par façon subtile Sent de l'amour de DIEU une scintille, Trouve ce feu sy grand et sy terrible, Si doux, sy bon, qu'il ne luy est possible Dire que c'est d'amour : car un petit Qu'il a senty, rend tout son appetit Sy satisfait, et non moins desirant, Qu'il est remply, et vit en souspirant. Le cœur sent bien que trop il a receu : Mais en ce trop, tel desir a conceu, Que sans cesser desire recevoir Ce qu'il ne peult, ny n'est digne d'avoir. Il congnoit bien indicible son bien, Et veult le plus où il ne congnoit rien. Sentir ne peult quel est son bien vraîment, Et si ne peult penser son sentement.
Le dire donc n'est pas en sa puissance, Puis que du feu il n'ha la congnoissance ; D'amour ne sçait bien au vray diffinir, Qui l'a cuydé toute en son cœur tenir, Bienheureux est qui en ha tel excés Que dire peult : Mon DIEU, j'en ay assez. Qui l'ha en soy, il n'en sçauroit parler, (Craingnant partant de la laisser aller) Sinon faisant l'edification De son prochain, à sa salvation.
L'impossible me fera donques taire, Car il n'est saint sy parfait ou austere, S'il veult parler de l'amour du Treshault, De sa bonté, douceur, de ce qu'il vault, De ses graces, de ce qu'à luy sent touche, Qui, baissant l'oeil, il ne ferme sa bouche. Moy donques ver de terre, moins que riens, Et chienne morte, ordure de fiens, Cesser doy bien parler de l'altitude De ceste amour ; mais trop d'ingratitude Seroit en moy, si n'eusse rien escrit, Satisfaisant à trop meilleur esprit. Car de celer les biens d'un sy bon maistre, C'est un forfait qui assez ne peult estre A droit puny, sans l'eternel licol. Parquoy venez, ô binheureux saint Pol, Qui bien avez gousté de ce doux miel, Trois jours sans voir, ravy j'usqu'au tiers ciel, Vueillez supplier mon ignorance et faute, Qu'avez vous sceu de vision sy haute ?
Oyez qu'il dit : O INDICIBLE hautesse, Du grand thresor de divine richesse De la fontaine et source de science Haute et divine, et toute sapience, Voz jugementz sont incomprehensibles ; Et voz sentiers, selon tous noz possibles, A tous noz sens investigables sont.
O bon saint Pol, voz paroles nous font Bien esbahis, que vous sy tressçavant D'un tel secret ne parlez plus avant. Mais oultre encor dites : de ceste amour Qu'esperons nous en avoir quelque jour? Escoutez le, voylà qu'il nous en dit :
Onques nul oeil d'homme mortel ne veit, Et si ne sceut oreille onques entendre, Ne dens le cœur, tant soit il bon, descendre Ce que DIEU a preparé, et promis A la parfin à tous ses bons amys.
N'en direz vous plus oultre ? Certes non. Ce qu'il en dit encores n'est, sinon Pour mieux nous faire estimer et aymer, Ce qu'il ne peult declarer ne nommer, Tirant noz cœurs, nostre amour et espoir A desirer ce qui ne se peult voir. Que dy Je, voir? mais penser ny sentir : Qui rend content de mourir un martyr.
O tresgrand don de Foy, dont tel bien vient, Que posseder fait ce que l'on ne tient ! Foy donne espoir par seure verité, Et met en nous parfaite Charité. Et Charité est DIEU comme sçavons. Si en nous est, DIEU aussi nous avons. Il est en nous, et trestous en luy sommes. Tous sont en luy, et luy en tous les hommes ; Si nous l'avons par Foy, tel est l'avoir, Que de le dire en nous n'est le povoir.
Donc, attendu qu'un sy tresgrand Apoustre Comme saint Pol n'a voulu parler oultre, Suyvant le trac de sa tressage eschole Je me tairay ; mais, suyvant sa parole (Bien que je sois fein, poudre, ordure et fange), Ne puis faillir à rendre la louenge De tant de biens, qu'avoir je ne merite, Qu'il luy plaist faire à moy sa MARGUERITE. AU ROY DU CIEL, immortel, invisible, SEUL DIEU puissant et incomprehensible, Soit tout honneur, gloire, louenge, amour A tout jamais, es siecles sans sejour.
Scripture echoes
- ↩Ps.51.10;Ps.51.12 — Cause me to hear joy and gladness; let the bones you have crushed rejoice. Ps.51.12 — Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
- ↩Rom.7.24-Rom.7.25 — Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Rom.7.25 — Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself with my mind serve the law of God, but with my flesh, the law of sin.
- ↩Rom.8.26 — In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans too deep for words.
- ↩Ps.22.6 — To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.
- ↩1Cor.15.54-1Cor.15.57;2Tim.1.10;Rom.6.6-Rom.6.10;Col.2.14 — But when this perishable puts on imperishability, and this mortal puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: 'Death has been swallowed up in victory.' 1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? 1Cor.15.56 — The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 1Cor.15.57 — But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2Tim.1.10 — but now it has been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. Rom.6.6 — We know this: our old self was crucified with him, so that the body of sin might be rendered powerless, that we might no longer be enslaved to sin. Rom.6.7 — For the one who has died has been justified from sin. Rom.6.8 — Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. Rom.6.9 — knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no longer; death no longer has dominion over him. Rom.6.10 — For the death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. Col.2.14 — having canceled the written code, the regulations that were against us and stood opposed to us, he has taken it out of the way, nailing it to the cross.
- ↩Col.2.14 — having canceled the written code, the regulations that were against us and stood opposed to us, he has taken it out of the way, nailing it to the cross.
- ↩1John.4.10;Rom.5.8 — In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Rom.5.8 — But God demonstrates his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
- ↩Matt.5.44;Luke.6.27 — But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. Luke.6.27 — But I say to you who are listening: love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.
- ↩Rom.5.6-Rom.5.10;John.15.13;Phil.2.8 — For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Rom.5.7 — For rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though for a good person someone might perhaps even dare to die. Rom.5.8 — But God demonstrates his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Rom.5.9 — Much more then, having now been justified by his blood, we will be saved through him from the wrath. Rom.5.10 — For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by his life. John.15.13 — No one has greater love than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends. Phil.2.8 — And he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
- ↩John.1.14 — And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, glory as of the only-begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.
- ↩John.14.6 — Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'
- ↩Col.2.14 — having canceled the written code, the regulations that were against us and stood opposed to us, he has taken it out of the way, nailing it to the cross.
- ↩Luke.1.30 — And the angel said to her, "Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.
- ↩Luke.1.28 — And coming to her, he said, 'Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.'
- ↩Matt.12.48-Matt.12.50;Luke.8.21;Luke.11.27-Luke.11.28 — But he answered the one who was speaking to him, "Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?" Matt.12.49 — And stretching out his hand toward his disciples, he said, "Behold, my mother and my brothers." Matt.12.50 — For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother. Luke.8.21 — But he answered and said to them, "My mother and my brothers are these—those who hear the word of God and do it." Luke.11.27 — And it came about that while he was saying these things, a certain woman from the crowd lifted up her voice and said to him, "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that you nursed." Luke.11.28 — But he said, 'Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it.'
- ↩Song.2.14 — O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding place of the steep path, let me see your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely.
- ↩1Pet.1.22;2Cor.6.6;Rom.12.9 — Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart. 2Cor.6.6 — in purity, in knowledge, in patience, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in sincere love, Rom.12.9 — Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good.
- ↩Luke.15.11-Luke.15.32 — And he said, "A certain man had two sons." Luke.15.12 — And the younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.' And he divided his livelihood between them. Luke.15.13 — And not many days later, the younger son, having gathered everything together, departed to a distant country, and there he squandered his property by living recklessly. Luke.15.14 — And after he had spent everything, a severe famine struck that region, and he began to be in want. Luke.15.15 — And he went and attached himself to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him to his fields to feed pigs. Luke.15.16 — He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. Luke.15.17 — But when he came to himself, he said, 'How many of my father's hired workers have bread enough to spare, and here I am perishing of hunger!' Luke.15.18 — I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.' Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants. Luke.15.20 — And he got up and went to his own father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. Luke.15.21 — And the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' Luke.15.22 — But the father said to his servants, 'Quickly, bring out the best robe and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand and sandals on his feet.' Luke.15.23 — And bring the fattened calf, kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. Luke.15.24 — because this son of mine was dead and has come back to life; he was lost and has been found. And they began to celebrate. Luke.15.25 — Now his older son was in the field; and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. Luke.15.26 — And he called one of the servants and asked him what these things might be. Luke.15.27 — But he said to him, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.' Luke.15.28 — But he was angry and refused to go in. So his father came out and pleaded with him. Luke.15.29 — But he answered his father, 'Look, all these years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me even a young goat so that I could celebrate with my friends.' Luke.15.30 — but when this son of yours who has devoured your livelihood with prostitutes came, you killed the fattened calf for him Luke.15.31 — And he said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.' Luke.15.32 — But we had to celebrate and be glad, for this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.
- ↩Luke.15.13 — And not many days later, the younger son, having gathered everything together, departed to a distant country, and there he squandered his property by living recklessly.
- ↩Luke.15.15-Luke.15.16 — And he went and attached himself to one of the citizens of that country, and he sent him to his fields to feed pigs. Luke.15.16 — He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything.
- ↩Luke.15.17 — But when he came to himself, he said, 'How many of my father's hired workers have bread enough to spare, and here I am perishing of hunger!'
- ↩Luke.15.18-Luke.15.20 — I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.' Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants. Luke.15.20 — And he got up and went to his own father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with compassion, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him.
- ↩Luke.15.18 — I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.'
- ↩Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.
- ↩Luke.15.19 — I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me as one of your hired servants.
- ↩Num.12.1-Num.12.15 — And Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had taken, for he had taken a Cushite woman. Num.12.2 — And they said, "Has the LORD spoken only through Moses? Has he not also spoken through us?" And the LORD heard it. Num.12.3 — Now the man Moses was very humble, more than any person who was on the face of the earth. Num.12.4 — And the LORD said suddenly to Moses and to Aaron and to Miriam, "Come out, you three, to the tent of meeting." And the three of them came out. Num.12.5 — Then the LORD came down in a pillar of cloud and stood at the entrance of the tent, and he called Aaron and Miriam, and the two of them came out. Num.12.6 — Then he said, 'Listen now to my words: If there is a prophet among you, I, the LORD, make myself known to him in a vision; I speak with him in a dream.' Num.12.7 — Not so with my servant Moses; he is faithful in all my house. Num.12.8 — Mouth to mouth I speak with him, plainly and not in riddles; the form of the LORD he beholds. So why were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses? Num.12.9 — And the anger of the LORD burned against them, and he departed. Num.12.10 — And the cloud departed from over the tent, and behold, Miriam was leprous, like snow. And Aaron turned toward Miriam, and behold, she was leprous. Num.12.11 — And Aaron said to Moses, 'Oh my lord, do not lay upon us the sin in which we have acted foolishly and in which we have sinned.' Num.12.12 — Please do not let her be like the dead, who, when he comes out of his mother's womb, has half his flesh already eaten away. Num.12.13 — And Moses cried out to the LORD, saying, "O God, please heal her, please." Num.12.14 — But the LORD said to Moses, "If her father had but spit in her face, would she not be humiliated seven days? Let her be shut outside the camp seven days, and after that she shall be brought back in." Num.12.15 — So Miriam was shut out from the camp for seven days, and the people did not set out until Miriam was brought back in.
- ↩Rom.12.17-Rom.12.21 — Repay no one evil for evil, but take thought for what is good in the sight of all people. Rom.12.18 — If possible, so far as it depends on you, live at peace with all people. Rom.12.19 — Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for wrath, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord.' Rom.12.20 — But if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on his head. Rom.12.21 — Do not be conquered by evil, but conquer evil with good.
- ↩Rom.8.38-Rom.8.39 — For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, neither the present nor the future, nor powers Rom.8.39 — nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord
- ↩Prov.10.12;1Pet.4.8 — Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions. 1Pet.4.8 — Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, for love covers a multitude of sins.
- ↩Luke.12.48 — but the one who did not know, yet did what deserved a beating, will be beaten with few blows. And from everyone to whom much was given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much was entrusted, they will ask for even more.
- ↩Ps.45.10 — Daughters of kings are among your honored women; at your right hand stands the queen in gold of Ophir.
- ↩Jer.3.1 — If a man sends away his wife and she leaves him and becomes another man's wife, can he return to her again? Would not that land be utterly defiled? Yet you have played the harlot with many lovers — and would you return to me? declares the LORD.
- ↩Jer.3.1;Deut.24.1-Deut.24.4 — If a man sends away his wife and she leaves him and becomes another man's wife, can he return to her again? Would not that land be utterly defiled? Yet you have played the harlot with many lovers — and would you return to me? declares the LORD. Deut.24.1 — When a man takes a wife and marries her, and it happens that she does not find favor in his eyes because he has found in her some indecent thing, then he shall write her a certificate of divorce and put it in her hand and send her out of his house. Deut.24.2 — and she goes out from his house, and goes, and becomes another man's wife Deut.24.3 — and the latter husband hates her, and he writes for her a certificate of divorce and places it in her hand and sends her from his house; or the latter husband dies, the one who took her as his wife. Deut.24.4 — Her former husband, who sent her away, may not take her again to be his wife, after she has been defiled; for that is an abomination before the LORD, and you shall not bring guilt upon the land that the LORD your God is giving you as an inheritance.
- ↩Jer.3.1-Jer.3.3 — If a man sends away his wife and she leaves him and becomes another man's wife, can he return to her again? Would not that land be utterly defiled? Yet you have played the harlot with many lovers — and would you return to me? declares the LORD. Jer.3.2 — Lift up your eyes to the bare heights, and see: where have you not been lain with? By the ways you have sat for them, like an Arab in the wilderness; and you have defiled the land with your whoring and with your wickedness. Jer.3.3 — So the showers were withheld, and there was no spring rain; yet you had the brazen face of a prostitute — you refused to be ashamed.
- ↩Jer.3.1 — If a man sends away his wife and she leaves him and becomes another man's wife, can he return to her again? Would not that land be utterly defiled? Yet you have played the harlot with many lovers — and would you return to me? declares the LORD.
- ↩Jer.3.2 — Lift up your eyes to the bare heights, and see: where have you not been lain with? By the ways you have sat for them, like an Arab in the wilderness; and you have defiled the land with your whoring and with your wickedness.
- ↩Jer.3.2 — Lift up your eyes to the bare heights, and see: where have you not been lain with? By the ways you have sat for them, like an Arab in the wilderness; and you have defiled the land with your whoring and with your wickedness.
- ↩Jer.3.2 — Lift up your eyes to the bare heights, and see: where have you not been lain with? By the ways you have sat for them, like an Arab in the wilderness; and you have defiled the land with your whoring and with your wickedness.
- ↩Jer.3.3 — So the showers were withheld, and there was no spring rain; yet you had the brazen face of a prostitute — you refused to be ashamed.
- ↩Ps.32.1;Ps.85.2 — Of David. A Maskil. Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Ps.85.2 — You showed favor, LORD, to your land; you restored the fortunes of Jacob.
- ↩Isa.43.25;Jer.31.34;Heb.8.12 — I, I am the one who blots out your transgressions for my sake, and your sins I will not remember. Jer.31.34 — No longer will they teach one another, each saying to his neighbor and each to his brother, 'Know the LORD,' for all of them shall know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the LORD. For I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more. Heb.8.12 — for I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins I will remember no more.
- ↩Ps.16.11 — You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
- ↩2Cor.5.17 — So if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
- ↩Eph.3.19 — to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God
- ↩Gal.2.20 — I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.
- ↩Rev.1.18 — And the Living One—I was dead, and behold, I am alive forever and ever, and I hold the keys of Death and of Hades.
- ↩John.11.11;1Thess.4.13-1Thess.4.14;Heb.2.14-Heb.2.15 — He said these things, and after this he said to them, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going to wake him up." 1Thess.4.13 — But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, concerning those who are asleep, so that you may not grieve as do the rest who have no hope. 1Thess.4.14 — For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, so also God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep through Jesus. Heb.2.14 — Since, therefore, the children have shared in blood and flesh, he himself also in like manner partook of the same, so that through death he might destroy the one having the power of death, that is, the devil, Heb.2.15 — and free those who, through fear of death, were subject to slavery all their lives
- ↩1Cor.15.26;Heb.2.14 — The last enemy to be destroyed is death. Heb.2.14 — Since, therefore, the children have shared in blood and flesh, he himself also in like manner partook of the same, so that through death he might destroy the one having the power of death, that is, the devil,
- ↩John.12.25;Phil.1.21 — Whoever loves their life loses it, and whoever hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Phil.1.21 — For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
- ↩Phil.2.7;Heb.2.14-Heb.2.17 — but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness, and appearing as a human being. Heb.2.14 — Since, therefore, the children have shared in blood and flesh, he himself also in like manner partook of the same, so that through death he might destroy the one having the power of death, that is, the devil, Heb.2.15 — and free those who, through fear of death, were subject to slavery all their lives Heb.2.16 — For surely it is not angels that he helps, but the seed of Abraham he helps. Heb.2.17 — Therefore, in all things he had to become like his brothers, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.
- ↩Phil.3.10 — to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death
- ↩1John.4.18 — There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears has not been perfected in love.
- ↩Phil.1.21 — For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
- ↩2Cor.5.1-2Cor.5.8 — For we know that if our earthly tent-house is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2Cor.5.2 — Indeed, in this body we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven. 2Cor.5.3 — since, when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 2Cor.5.4 — For indeed, while we are in this tent, we groan under the weight of it — because we do not wish to be unclothed, but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 2Cor.5.5 — Now the one who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. 2Cor.5.6 — So we are always confident, and we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 2Cor.5.7 — for we walk by faith, not by sight 2Cor.5.8 — We are confident, and I say we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.
- ↩2Cor.3.18;1John.3.2 — And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord as in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit. 1John.3.2 — Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be. We know that when he is revealed, we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.
- ↩1Cor.13.12 — For now we see in a mirror, dimly; but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
- ↩Lam.1.12 — Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of his fierce anger.
- ↩Song.2.5 — Sustain me with raisin cakes, refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love.
- ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
- ↩Heb.9.27 — And just as it is appointed for people to die once, and after this comes judgment,
- ↩Job.31.6;Dan.5.27 — Let God weigh me on scales of justice, and He will know my integrity. Dan.5.27 — TEKEL: You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.
- ↩Rev.20.12;Ps.139.16 — And I saw the dead, the great and the small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. And another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to their works. Ps.139.16 — Your eyes saw my unformed substance, and in your book all of them were written — the days that were fashioned, when not yet one of them existed.
- ↩2Thess.1.8-2Thess.1.9 — in flaming fire, giving vengeance to those who do not know God and to those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. 2Thess.1.9 — who will pay the penalty of eternal destruction, away from the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might,
- ↩Deut.32.4;Ps.19.9;Rev.16.7 — The Rock — his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, righteous and upright is he. Ps.19.9 — The precepts of the LORD are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the LORD is pure, giving light to the eyes. Rev.16.7 — And I heard the altar saying, 'Yes, Lord God the Almighty, true and just are your judgments.'
- ↩Isa.64.6 — And there is no one who calls on your name, who rouses themselves to hold fast to you; for you have hidden your face from us, and you have dissolved us by the power of our iniquity.
- ↩Rom.8.33-Rom.8.34;1John.2.1 — Who will bring a charge against God's elect? God is the one who justifies. Rom.8.34 — Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus—the one who died, and more than that, was raised—who is also at the right hand of God, and who also intercedes for us. 1John.2.1 — My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous One.
- ↩Col.2.13-Col.2.14;2Cor.5.19 — And you, who were dead in your trespasses and in the uncircumcision of your flesh, he made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses. Col.2.14 — having canceled the written code, the regulations that were against us and stood opposed to us, he has taken it out of the way, nailing it to the cross. 2Cor.5.19 — that is, God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and he has entrusted to us the message of reconciliation.
- ↩Rom.8.34;Heb.7.25;1John.2.1 — Who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus—the one who died, and more than that, was raised—who is also at the right hand of God, and who also intercedes for us. Heb.7.25 — Therefore he is able to save completely those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to intercede for them. 1John.2.1 — My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous One.
- ↩Ezek.18.23 — Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Lord God. Is it not rather that he should turn from his ways and live?
- ↩Matt.4.19;Mark.1.17;Luke.5.10 — And he said to them, 'Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.' Mark.1.17 — And Jesus said to them, "Come after me, and I will make you become fishers of men." Luke.5.10 — And so also James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, 'Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people alive.'
- ↩1John.2.1 — My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the Righteous One.
- ↩John.15.13-John.15.15 — No one has greater love than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends. John.15.14 — You are my friends, if you do whatever I command you. John.15.15 — No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, because all that I heard from my Father I have made known to you.
- ↩Matt.25.41 — Then he will also say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.'
- ↩Rom.6.23 — For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
- ↩Matt.25.41 — Then he will also say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.'
- ↩Luke.11.21;Matt.12.29 — When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own courtyard, his possessions are secure. Matt.12.29 — Or how can anyone enter the house of the strong man and carry off his possessions unless he first binds the strong man? Then he plunders his house.
- ↩Luke.11.21-Luke.11.22;Matt.12.29 — When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own courtyard, his possessions are secure. Luke.11.22 — But when one stronger than he comes upon him and overcomes him, he takes from him his whole armor in which he trusted, and divides his spoils. Matt.12.29 — Or how can anyone enter the house of the strong man and carry off his possessions unless he first binds the strong man? Then he plunders his house.
- ↩Luke.11.21-Luke.11.22;Matt.12.29 — When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own courtyard, his possessions are secure. Luke.11.22 — But when one stronger than he comes upon him and overcomes him, he takes from him his whole armor in which he trusted, and divides his spoils. Matt.12.29 — Or how can anyone enter the house of the strong man and carry off his possessions unless he first binds the strong man? Then he plunders his house.
- ↩Col.2.15;1Pet.3.18-1Pet.3.19 — He disarmed the rulers and the authorities, made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it. 1Pet.3.18 — For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God — put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the Spirit. 1Pet.3.19 — in which also he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison,
- ↩Phil.2.8;John.15.13;Rom.5.8 — And he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. John.15.13 — No one has greater love than this: that someone lay down his life for his friends. Rom.5.8 — But God demonstrates his own love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
- ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
- ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
- ↩1Cor.15.55;Hos.13.14 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? Hos.13.14 — From the hand of Sheol I will ransom them; from death I will redeem them. Where are your plagues, O Death? Where is your sting, O Sheol? Repentance shall be hidden from my eyes.
- ↩1Cor.15.55 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?
- ↩1Cor.15.55-1Cor.15.56 — Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? 1Cor.15.56 — The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.
- ↩Jas.1.17 — Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.
- ↩Phil.4.13 — I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
- ↩2Cor.12.2-2Cor.12.4 — I know a person in Christ fourteen years ago—whether in the body I do not know, or out of the body I do not know; God knows—such a one was caught up to the third heaven. 2Cor.12.3 — And I know that such a person—whether in the body or apart from the body, I do not know; God knows— 2Cor.12.4 — that he was caught up into Paradise and heard inexpressible words, which it is not lawful for a person to speak.
- ↩Rom.11.33 — Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and how inscrutable his ways!
- ↩1Cor.2.9 — But as it is written: What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived—all that God has prepared for those who love him.
- ↩1Cor.2.9 — But as it is written: What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived—all that God has prepared for those who love him.
- ↩1Cor.2.9;2Cor.4.18;Heb.11.1 — But as it is written: What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived—all that God has prepared for those who love him. 2Cor.4.18 — So we do not focus on the things that are seen, but on the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are temporary, but the things that are unseen are eternal. Heb.11.1 — Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
- ↩1Cor.13.13 — And now faith, hope, and love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
Notes
- 1 ↩puitz (mod. puits) can mean well or pit; damnation-context favors pit. malediction is rendered damnation (curse/malediction is also possible).
- 2 ↩la disme is the tithe/tenth part: not a literal tithe-payment, but 'even a tenth' of the speaker's sins.
- 3 ↩elle (it/she) agrees with la racine: the root of sin within produces every outward effect as its branch, flower, leaf, and fruit. Lines prepare the tree imagery continued in the next section.
- 4 ↩concupiscence rendered as 'disordered desire' (broader than sexual lust; the soul's inclination to sin). acoustumance rendered as 'habit' (habituation to sin).
- 5 ↩Middle French vertu here is rendered as “power” (divine operative strength), not moral virtue alone; it is the force that examines the speaker’s fault and rips away the veil of ignorance.
- 6 ↩fiens is dung/excrement (cf. fiente); kept as “dung” for the stark body-mortality contrast with boue (“mud”).
- 7 ↩Middle French dessirée is taken as désirée (“desired/longed for”), parallel to desirée two lines above; the couplet plays on desiring the end while life itself is spent and longed away. Less likely: a torn/destroyed sense.
- 8 ↩Middle French 'prevenir' here carries prevenient force: God goes before / anticipates the sinner with mercy, not merely 'prevents' in the modern sense of stopping.
- 9 ↩'duquel il se recorde' is taken as the Almighty being mindful of Jesus Christ (through whom the prevenient mercy comes). An alternate parsing would take the relative more loosely of God's remembering us in Christ.
- 10 ↩'desservy' is Middle French for 'deserved' (not modern 'cleared the table'). 'ne fait pas long sejour' means he does not delay or linger, not that he makes no long visit.
- 11 ↩gemissement... grand inenarrablement and the Spirit petitioning a gift beyond the soul's weak knowing closely track the Pauline motif of the Spirit's inexpressible groanings (cf. Rom 8:26), without an explicit quote mark in the source.
- 12 ↩Middle French ver continues the prior line’s ver de terre (earthworm). The speaker catches herself mid-abasement and will argue even that name is too mild.
- 13 ↩Je luy fais trop d’injure… à moy: luy is best read as the worm (ver, masc.). The sense is not that she insults God, but that she insults the worm by ranking herself with it—she is worse. Parjure (‘perjured / false to one’s oath’) anticipates the next section’s broken baptismal promises.
- 14 ↩amys au baptesme: baptismal sponsors/godparents, rendered as "friends" to keep the surface of the French; the liturgical role is clear from the baptismal setting.
- 15 ↩reprins et detaché: of sin nailed to the cross—taken back up (resumed) and unfastened/torn free from the cross, undoing what Christ did.
- 16 ↩mauvais pain contrasts the soul's false food with the eucharistic Body/Blood of the previous sentence; kept as 'bad bread' to preserve that antithesis.
- 17 ↩"De mon salut avez fait l'ouverture" rendered as "opened the way to my salvation"; the French may also mean "made the opening/door of my salvation."
- 18 ↩"un tel tour" rendered as "such a thing"; Middle French tour can mean deed, turn, or service.
- 19 ↩Implied subject is the soul (from neighboring discourse): the soul did not love Christ, yet He loved her (s6).
- 20 ↩"l'" / "aymée" is feminine, referring to the soul (âme).
- 21 ↩French charité kept as charity for the theological virtue personified; continues into s8 as burning divine love identified with Christ.
- 22 ↩"froid ne remis" rendered as "cold or half-hearted"; remis can mean lukewarm, slackened, or remiss.
- 23 ↩Middle French "ains" rendered as "but" (adversative: not only... but rather...).
- 24 ↩French dilection is the theological virtue of love (dilectio/charitas); rendered as love to match lexeme policy, with 'love itself' carrying the force of pure, self-moved divine love rather than earned affection.
- 25 ↩Middle French 'gri' (= gré): the credit/thanks one acknowledges for a benefit (savoir gré). Rendered as 'credit' to keep the force of sole attribution of salvation to God.
- 26 ↩'d'abondant' = moreover / in addition (not merely 'abundantly'). Kept as 'what's more' to mark the second already-given gift (grace) beyond pardon, which still does not 'content' God.
- 27 ↩sœur mere / espouse: the Miroir's kinship triad for the soul before God—sister, mother, and bride of Christ—kept explicit rather than flattened into generic intimacy.
- 28 ↩rolle: scroll/roll written on the heart (Spirit and sacred Word). concevoir vostre filz: mystical conception of the Son by faith in the soul, parallel to Mary—kept as 'conceive,' not softened.
- 29 ↩«Cendre» (ash/dust) names mortal human nature joined to the Son in the Incarnation; kept as «dust» for the biblical register of human frailty.
- 30 ↩«Dilection» is rendered as «love» per lexeme policy; it carries the ordered, electing love of God, not mere affection.
- 31 ↩Middle French 'remise' is rendered as idle/inactive (parallel with 'dormir'); alternative sense 'set aside/put back' is possible but less apt beside sleep.
- 32 ↩Capitalized 'Verité' is treated as personified Truth (divine Truth), which then makes the soul feel God's true paternity; it could also be read as abstract 'truth' felt by the soul.
- 33 ↩Espouse / mary / espoux: bridal-mystical titles for the soul's covenantal union with God; rendered as Bride, husband, and bridegroom to keep the marital register without archaism.
- 34 ↩femme advouée: publicly acknowledged / avowed wife (legitimate spouse), not merely a private beloved.
- 35 ↩recepte: revenue/income from goods; rendered as 'wealth' for natural English while keeping the economic marriage-settlement image.
- 36 ↩pere vieil continues the prior section's Adam (the soul's father who left her only sin); the soul forsakes both Adam's line and his worldly goods for Christ the spouse.
- 37 ↩Middle French gastée may mean ruined/corrupted by sin, or spoiled/undone for lesser goods by God's bait. Rendered as 'ruined' for the sinful-soul self-knowledge; 'spoiled' (for the world) is also possible.
- 38 ↩s4–s5 form one question in the source: Que puis-je... penser? ('What can I think?'). Split kept as supplied sentence refs.
- 39 ↩Wordplay: after daring to say 'Father,' the soul adds 'our,' pointing to the prayer's opening 'Our Father' (Patenostre = Pater noster).
- 40 ↩Continues the prior admission that God may be called Father (and 'our' Father in the Lord's Prayer). 'Mais vostre fille, quoy' presses the reciprocal claim: if God is Father, has he also named the speaker his daughter?
- 41 ↩Wordplay on Middle French prest: 'prestez' (lend), 'en faire prest' (make a loan of it), and 'est prest' (is ready). English keeps the lend/ready contrast without forcing an exact triple pun.
- 42 ↩Middle French 'meites' is read as a form of 'mettre' (settles / puts to rest); 'deffaitte' as 'défaitte' (solution / undoing of the difficulty).
- 43 ↩'marrie' = grieved / troubled / offended (Middle French marri), not 'married'.
- 44 ↩'sans plus' rendered as 'alone' (you alone / without peer); the sentence is syntactically open, continuing into the next section.
- 45 ↩« l' » / « elle » continues the prior section’s « grace » (grace lost by Adam and his posterity, now restored through Mary’s Son). « luy » is Adam from that same context.
- 46 ↩« pleine nommée » points to the angelic title full of grace (Ave gratia plena); « en » again tracks grace from the surrounding verses.
- 47 ↩Source has mixed agreement (« confermée », « ravie », « transformé »). Sense taken as: God is confirmed/established in Mary by love, and she is rapt and transformed in Him. « De cuyder mieux vous louer » = to imagine giving her higher praise than God’s own making of her.
- 48 ↩Middle French deïfier names deification/theosis: faith, by grace, has made Mary wholly share in the divine life—not that she becomes God by nature.
- 49 ↩'pere maudit' (cursed father) is left as the source's stark kinship term; in this adoption theology it points to the damned paternal line (sin/Adam/the devil) from which Christ severs the speaker by adoptive daughterhood.
- 50 ↩Source prints «Ta as navré»; read as parallel «Tu as navré» (you have wounded).
- 51 ↩«vous navrant, navrée me sentir» stages reciprocal love-wounding: the soul wounds Christ (as the Song's sister does) and is herself wounded by his love.
- 52 ↩French amye is the Song-register 'beloved/friend'; the soul disclaims native title to the names and ascribes them wholly to Christ's making.
- 53 ↩importable is Middle French for 'unbearable/insupportable'; rendered 'beyond bearing'. faire un cœur partir means to split/break the heart with excess of love and honor, not mere departure.
- 54 ↩Middle French filiale: a child's love toward a parent; answered in the next section by reverential fear toward the Father.
- 55 ↩Middle French 'bien reverentiale' answers 'Quelle crainte?' as a short catechetical label: a fear that is well/truly reverential (holy awe), not terror.
- 56 ↩'conservateur' here is the one who keeps/sustains in being (preserver), not a modern political 'conservative'.
- 57 ↩'amitié' can shade from friendship into loving affection; rendered as 'friendship' to keep the kinship register of sœur/frère.
- 58 ↩'batterie ou mine' are siege metaphors (battery assault; mining/sapping under walls), kept as 'assault or undermining' rather than flattened to generic 'attacks'.
- 59 ↩Middle French mercy stands in a thanksgiving formula with graces, gloire, and louenge; rendered as mercy to keep the source quartet, though it also carries the sense of grateful acknowledgment (merci).
- 60 ↩amour non feinte: rendered 'unfeigned love' to keep the theological force of genuine, not counterfeit, love; 'true love' would also be faithful.
- 61 ↩folle ligue: the prodigal's 'mad company' / league of folly; not a formal political league.
- 62 ↩relief des Pourceaux: leftovers/scraps fed to swine (Luke's husks/pods), not modern 'relief' as aid.
- 63 ↩à vous, par vous: destination and means together — return to the Father, and return made possible by the Father.
- 64 ↩Pere debonnaire: 'kind Father' (gentle, gracious); 'debonair' in modern English is too light and secular.
- 65 ↩mercenaire: hired hand/servant (day-laborer), as in the parable — not a military mercenary.
- 66 ↩niera: God refuses to admit the sin as a charge against the speaker before the would-be punisher (not a denial that sin occurred).
- 67 ↩faute de biens covers want of goods in the broad sense (provision, blessings), not only material wealth.
- 68 ↩corde: hangman's rope / instrument of capital judgment, paired with prison as images of condemnation and death.
- 69 ↩"Laissant raison subjette à volunté" is rendered as reason made subject to the (disordered) will: reason yields to appetite rather than governing it.
- 70 ↩Middle French sensualité names the soul's fleshly appetite personified as a false neighbor/mother; Peché is capitalized as Sin itself, the lifeless substitute for the living child (Christ).
- 71 ↩chandelle de la grace keeps the source image of examining by candlelight; rendered as candle of grace (illumination by grace), not flattened to mere 'light.' naif = native/true-born child, not modern 'naive.'
- 72 ↩ceste vieille is sensuality as the false old mother who forces the soul to keep Sin (the dead child) and insists it is the soul's own.
- 73 ↩The Solomon allegory is applied spiritually: the living child is Jesus Christ; the soul would rather die than see him partitioned between God and sin.
- 74 ↩Middle French ennuy here means grief/affliction/distress, not modern 'boredom'.
- 75 ↩Kept as 'nourriture' → 'nourishment': Christ as the soul’s sustenance, with possible maternal and Eucharistic overtones, not reduced to ordinary food.
- 76 ↩l'enfant mort: the 'dead child' contrasts with the living Christ-child the soul has recovered; it names the fruit of sin/death she refuses to receive again, not a literal infant.
- 77 ↩Middle French 'nichilité' is rendered as 'pure nothingness' (nihilité); 'Mere nommer' taken as the infinitive complement of 'plaist à vostre humilité' (Your humility is pleased to name me Mother).
- 78 ↩recueil rendered as 'welcome' (brotherly reception/taking-in); Middle French also allows 'refuge' or 'gathering-in'.
- 79 ↩donner à voz œuvres raison rendered as 'call your works into account' (demand justification / put them on trial by reason); next section's complaints against God's works support this sense over mere 'explain your works'.
- 80 ↩"vingt trois mil" (23,000) echoes the Pauline count of those who fell (1 Cor 10:8), commonly linked to the Baal-peor judgment (cf. Num 25:9, 24,000).
- 81 ↩"Aaron (qui est mon propre sens)": Aaron allegorizes the soul's own judgment/reasoning, partner in the murmuring (cf. previous section's alliance with Aaron).
- 82 ↩de mon peché likely continues the question of s2 ('What did you do then about my sin?'), but the printed section splits the units; rendered as a freestanding cry of grief over the sin.
- 83 ↩empesché taken as 'occupied / busied yourself' (Middle French empesché = engaged in a task), not 'hindered,' because the following Non pour… Mais pour… names the purpose of the intercession.
- 84 ↩ladresse/ladres = leper(ess); parc du peuple evokes biblical exclusion outside the camp (Miriam typology from the surrounding Aaron/leprosy narrative).
- 85 ↩en vous non sejournée: Middle French séjourner can mean delay/linger; rendered as true love that did not stay idle in the addressee but moved at once to prayer.
- 86 ↩mesnage keeps the household/domestic-union sense of Middle French mesnage (shared life under one roof), not modern 'ménage' as mere housekeeping.
- 87 ↩homme naïvement: naïvement is Middle French 'truly/by nature' (not modern 'naively'); the line names the Incarnation—Christ making himself truly human.
- 88 ↩rendz graces is thanksgiving (rendre grâces), not the theological gift 'grace'.
- 89 ↩bonne maison is lineage/household standing (adoption into God's house), not a physical dwelling alone.
- 90 ↩cuydans (cuidant): 'thinking/supposing'; mauvais tour: 'wicked turn/trick/deed,' not a literal circuit.
- 91 ↩complexions: Renaissance sense of temperaments/natures/dispositions (humoral complexions), not modern facial complexion.
- 92 ↩appointement: reconciliation/settlement between spouses, not a modern 'appointment.'
- 93 ↩espouse rendered as bride: the feminine soul speaking as God's spouse in bridal-mystical register.
- 94 ↩noblement anoblie preserves the source wordplay (nobly ennobled); Par vous tresnoble is taken as address to God as agent of ennobling.
- 95 ↩privauté rendered as intimacy (familiar access/favor with God); Middle French sense is private familiarity, not privacy as secrecy.
- 96 ↩« pour un mauvais choisir »: Middle French uses the infinitive as a noun—rendered as 'a bad choice' (a wrongful election of will), not the verb 'to choose badly'.
- 97 ↩« amy sans fiction »: 'friend without pretense/falsehood'—true, unfeigned Friend; kept as 'friend' (not only 'beloved') to preserve the source's ami vocabulary.
- 98 ↩« ma mauvaise et seule volunté »: both 'evil/bad' and 'sole/alone'—the sin is hers alone, by a will that is itself disordered. Rendered as 'my own evil will alone' to keep both forces.
- 99 ↩appointée: rendered as 'settled myself with them' (allied/agreed terms); also carries the sense of making one's arrangements entirely with them.
- 100 ↩Ce a mon: Middle French dismissive idiom, roughly 'what's that to me' / 'what do I care'; rendered for natural contemporary force rather than calqued literally.
- 101 ↩douaire = dowry / marriage portion: here the soul's bridal gift from God as spouse, not a secular legal claim.
- 102 ↩Closing address 'ô ma fille, oy et vois' and the following section's 'encline ton ouye... premier Père... grand'maison' strongly track Psalm 45:10–11 (Vulg. 44); 'brebis errante' echoes the lost-sheep parables.
- 103 ↩Middle French 'l'arme à l'oeil' is rendered as 'with a blade at my eye'—an idiom of speaking under extreme risk or full exposure, not a literal combat pose.
- 104 ↩« La Loy consent à Justice la rendre » personifies Law and Justice; « rendre » is rendered as handing/giving her over (to judgment), not as 'rendering justice' abstractly, which fits the following « la chasser ».
- 105 ↩Ce craindre is a substantive infinitive: the God-given fear of judgment. It is distinguished from mere natural dread as proceeding from God and surpassing every pleasure.
- 106 ↩excusée is feminine past participle of the soul as speaker: she is the one God excuses, not the one who excuses herself.
- 107 ↩"la part de vostre lict" keeps the source's bridal/nuptial image of restored union with God (share in the marital bed), not a merely domestic or erotic paraphrase.
- 108 ↩Rendered as 'faith in your promises.' Middle French foy can also mean pledge, fidelity, or the bond of trust itself; the bridal context may intentionally hold both assurance and faithful commitment.
- 109 ↩Middle French inconsiderable can mean of no account/negligible or not fit to be considered; rendered as 'all too base to weigh' to preserve the contrast with God's admirable good.
- 110 ↩Rendered as 'nothingness' for the technical sense of creaturely nihility; paired with 'mon rien' as 'my nothing'.
- 111 ↩Taken as self-identification: the speaker (as sinful creature) is that which least can join itself to God, capping the contrast begun in the previous sentence.
- 112 ↩Dense Middle French paradox: 'l'union à mort vivifiée' and 'Vie mourant d'amour verifié' read as absolute/appositive phrases leading into 'Vie sans fin a fait nostre mort vive' (normalized from 'à fait'). 'verifié' taken as proven/true love, not a mere verification claim.
- 113 ↩'naïve' is Middle French for native/innate/genuine (Latin nativus), not modern 'naive'. Rendered 'native' to keep the older sense of a death proper/true to life.
- 114 ↩«meurt languissante» is the mystical death of love: the soul dies of yearning without bodily death. «languissante» rendered as «of longing» rather than mere physical weakness.
- 115 ↩The apostrophe opens to 'douce mort' (sweet death) while 'vous' / 'vostre mort' points to Christ and his death; render as address to Christ through the sweetness of his death, which frees believers by a 'doux dormir' from the death that made them groan.
- 116 ↩«seur port» is the safe harbor after life's voyage; «vostre vision» is the beatific sight of God, not ordinary eyesight.
- 117 ↩«par mort encores ne puis voir»: death is the longed-for means of vision (cf. previous section), not yet granted; the soul asks to be transformed into the Spouse while still living.
- 118 ↩«j'attendray mieux l'attente»: restful waiting will make the remaining delay more bearable; rendered as 'better endure the waiting' rather than a redundant 'await the wait.'
- 119 ↩The soul addresses Christ under inverted kinship titles (she names him Son as well as Father, Spouse/Husband, Brother), following the work's mystical family-of-grace logic rather than a single fixed role.
- 120 ↩dilection rendered as love (devotional/theological love, not sentimentality); the source uses the dense noun dilection rather than plain amour.
- 121 ↩conjonction rendered as union (the marital/spiritual joining), keeping the kinship-name series parallel with s2.
- 122 ↩Filz, engendré par Foy et Charité treats Christ as Son begotten in the soul through Faith and Charity (spiritual generation), not only as the eternal Son.
- 123 ↩laqs = lacs, snares/traps; office = office/role/standing, not a bureaucratic post.
- 124 ↩je m'oy = je m'ois: I hear myself (named). The reciprocal family titles continue the preceding section's bridal and kinship address to Christ.
- 125 ↩consommer / fondre / brusler / du tout aneantir stack verbs of total spiritual undoing under the force of divine sweetness, not ordinary destruction.
- 126 ↩Source capitalizes Si ('if'), a deliberate play on conditional, provisional loves full of 'ifs' and reservations, set against this unconditional divine love.
- 127 ↩moins que siens: the one who loves God ranks worldly goods below what is truly his (the soul's real possession in God), not merely as slightly less valuable goods of the same kind.
- 128 ↩corvée: feudal forced labor / burdensome duty; rendered 'drudgery' to keep the sense of compulsory, joyless toil once divine love is found.
- 129 ↩Elle refers to amour de Dieu (Love of God); Middle French often personifies amour as feminine. Rendered as 'It' for natural modern English while keeping the sense that this love alone fills the heart.
- 130 ↩Oultrageux (outrageux): outrageous, excessive, insolent. Kept as 'outrageous' for moral force; 'presumptuous' is a close alternative in a spiritual register.
- 131 ↩Middle French «fait … vraye approbation» of «la substraction de vostre amour» is rendered as truly approving/assenting to the withdrawal of God’s love—i.e., truly acknowledging how terrible that loss is—not as desiring it. «en fer … lié» keeps the image of iron bondage (chains/fetters).
- 132 ↩pic, paelle, ny massue names concrete instruments of violent death (pike/spike, pan, mace/club); rendered as concrete implements rather than generic 'torture'.
- 133 ↩dont il n'avoit que faire: he had no obligation or need to die; rendered as 'a death he had no need of' to keep the free, gratuitous force of the sacrifice.
- 134 ↩que jeu: Middle French 'jeu' suggests lightness/play; rendered as 'gladly' so that Death becomes something held lightly and willingly, not sportively.
- 135 ↩Extreme acces pour tout desemparer: 'accès' as assault/onset; 'désemparer' as strip/leave destitute—the pain of soul-body separation as total dispossession.
- 136 ↩sans mentir intensifies sincerity ('truly'/'without lying'); rendered as 'truly' rather than a stiff aside.
- 137 ↩Middle French fruition / vision pairs the scholastic fruitio and visio of God (enjoyment of God and the beatific vision). Rendered as full enjoyment and vision to keep that technical force without archaic diction.
- 138 ↩Feminine past participle (transformée) marks the soul as speaker; English loses the gender marking. 'Transformed into the divine' preserves the theosis/deiform sense of becoming God-like rather than a merely moral change.
- 139 ↩Cantique is likely a section label/title for the following song-address rather than part of the vocative syntax.
- 140 ↩amy is kept as Friend (capitalized as Christ-address) rather than generic 'friend'; mon roy is King.
- 141 ↩pointure and aguillon both carry 'sting/prick'; rendered as sting then goad to keep the double force without stiff synonym-stacking.
- 142 ↩elle refers back to Death's pointure/aguillon/rudesse (feminine); divertie = turned aside/diverted from sight.
- 143 ↩l'amy / l'amye pairs masculine Beloved (Christ) with feminine beloved (the soul); rendered as Beloved/beloved to keep the gendered love-mysticism without archaic diction.
- 144 ↩congnoissance: rendered as open knowledge/acknowledgment (brought into the open), not mere private awareness.
- 145 ↩rolle: Middle French roll/register/scroll of record; rendered as scroll.
- 146 ↩Charité / Justice / Verité are personified divine attributes; Charity kept as the theological virtue, not generic kindness.
- 147 ↩infidele may mean unbeliever or unfaithful; rendered as unbeliever from the damnation/eternal-penalty context that follows.
- 148 ↩justices des plus parfaitz: rendered as the righteous deeds of the most perfect (not courtroom justices). immundices des viles: filth/uncleanness of base things or base people; kept as filth of the base.
- 149 ↩Capitalized Rien (Nothing) marks the soul's creaturely nothingness before God; kept as Nothing. Foy invisible names faith in what is not seen.
- 150 ↩Middle French 'doy' (dois): rendered as debt/indebtedness to Christ as advocate; the object of the debt is left implicit in the source.
- 151 ↩Source 'pescheur' (with s) is taken as 'fisher' (not 'sinner'/'pécheur'), matching 'des ames vray pescheur' = true fisher of souls.
- 152 ↩Espoux keeps the bridal register of the soul's union with Christ; Justice is personified (as again in the following section with Paix).
- 153 ↩elle = personified Justice (from s1 and the preceding section). mariage continues the soul’s spousal union with Christ as Espoux.
- 154 ↩Charité rendered as love (theological virtue of self-giving love); merité as what Christ has earned/merited, then given to the soul.
- 155 ↩vostre merite mien = your merit counted as mine. Paix is personified as Justice’s sister; est doucement baisée follows the Justice–Peace kiss allegory.
- 156 ↩Middle French 'Si sçay je' uses affirmative si ('indeed/yes'), not the conditional; rendered 'Indeed I know well'.
- 157 ↩Subject 'il' continues 'ce feu' / Hell from s3: hell-fire is for the Devil, not by design for rational humankind.
- 158 ↩'loyer' is wage/recompense (not modern 'rent'); paired with 'retribué' as just recompense for imitating the enemy.
- 159 ↩« des deux la differente sorte »: the two destinies just named—angelic likeness crowned in heaven, and vicious likeness punished with Satan.
- 160 ↩« acoustumance » rendered as habit of evil (settled custom/practice), not mere familiarity.
- 161 ↩Middle French 'et si' read as adversative 'and yet'; 'ne craint qu'on...' read as confident non-fear of attack (not exclusive 'only fears'), which fits Hell's proud strength before the Stronger comes in s3.
- 162 ↩'Le Fort' / 'le Plusfort' personify Hell (or the strong adversary) and Christ the Stronger; capitals in the source support this contrast rather than mere comparative adjectives.
- 163 ↩'Par Charité' rendered as 'through love' per default lexeme policy for charitas/charité; the capitalized source points to Christ's redemptive charity. 'que mort, humilié' read as the subject (Christ) dying and humbled, not as Death personified.
- 164 ↩'peine' kept as 'suffering' (could also be penance/toil); 'en tutelle' as legal wardship/guardianship ('under its guard'), not mere custody slang.
- 165 ↩festu: a straw/bit of chaff; idiom for something worthless. 'vertu' here is effective power/might, not moral excellence alone.
- 166 ↩inserée et entée: double image of being set into and grafted onto Christ; 'entée' is the horticultural graft (cf. Romans 11). 'la mienne' = the speaker's glory, increased because she shares in the Savior's.
- 167 ↩Goulu means gluttonous/greedy; kept as a taunting personification of Hell's insatiable appetite.
- 168 ↩envie can mean desire, will, or envy; rendered as hostile intent, which fits Death's purpose to kill.
- 169 ↩Jerusalem la belle is the heavenly Jerusalem; sin, against its own aim, becomes the spur and ladder of return to God.
- 170 ↩la / son refer to the creature (soul) of s7; Sin is still addressed as the ironic agent of the soul's return by God's grace.
- 171 ↩Address continues the previous stanza’s apostrophe to Sin (vous): God’s goodness frustrates Sin’s week-long labor (perdre la peine = make that effort vain).
- 172 ↩‘vertu’ rendered as ‘power’ (efficacy of Christ’s Passion), not moral virtue. ‘ceste passion’ = this Passion (the Cross), continued from the preceding victory over Death and Hell.
- 173 ↩‘elle’ is feminine while ‘esprit’ is masculine; sense is the protected spirit/soul that need fear nothing. Verse gender looseness common in this poem.
- 174 ↩Charité is rendered charity here as the theological virtue by which faith unites the soul to God; love would also be faithful.
- 175 ↩sans l'aymer il m'ayme… en l'aymant, Par son amour sentz l'aymer doublement: rendered as God's unilateral love preceding and enabling the soul's love, so that when the soul loves, it is God's own love felt doubly (His love for her, and His love as her love for Him). Alternative: 'by His love I feel loving Him twice as much.'
- 176 ↩la sienne En moy l'ayme: God's love, dwelling in the soul, is the true agent of loving God; the soul experiences that divine love as if it were her own. Mystical participation, not mere emotional self-love.
- 177 ↩Parenthetical (non moy) stresses that it is love's effect, not the speaker, that contents God; rendered as an em-dash apposition to keep that force.
- 178 ↩Middle French 'supplie' (from Latin suppleo) here means 'supplies / makes up to,' not modern 'entreats.'
- 179 ↩«bourse» is kept as «purse» (receptacle/dispenser of treasure), not flattened to «treasury», to preserve the commercial-metaphor force of the couplet with «tresor».
- 180 ↩«la peult il exprimer»: «la» points back to goodness/love (feminine); «il» is the heart (masculine «cœur»). Rendered as «can that heart express it» to keep both referents clear.
- 181 ↩Source capitalizes «Rien» and «Tout» as mystical poles (the creature’s nothingness and God as All). Capitals retained; feminine «unie» implies the soul/heart-capacity as subject, left as «it» for natural English while keeping the union-by-love sense.
- 182 ↩«qu'il m'en peult soustenir» is slightly elliptical: ethical/dative «m'» plus partitive «en». Sense taken as excess of good beyond the heart’s capacity to sustain; next section’s eye/sun parallel supports the overfull, mistaken-completeness reading of «tout le monde tenir».
- 183 ↩«indicible son bien»: the good is known as unspeakable/ineffable; rendered «beyond words» rather than the more formal «ineffable» for Modern Readable register.
- 184 ↩Middle French «Et si» read as adversative «and yet» (not conditional «if»), matching the paradox that feeling and thought both fail the experience.
- 185 ↩Parenthetical 'Craingnant partant de la laisser aller': 'partant' taken as 'by that means / thereby (by speaking)'; feminine 'la' most naturally points to the interior possession of love even though amour is masculine in French.
- 186 ↩ce qu'à luy sent touche: rendered as the saint's inward sense of what reaches him from God; the Middle French is compressed and slightly elliptical.
- 187 ↩Satisfaisant à trop meilleur esprit: taken as the speaker's silence would merely defer the whole subject to a superior spirit; alternative reading would treat it as writing that only a better mind could fully satisfy.
- 188 ↩licol: literally a collar or halter; here the image is the hangman's rope, standing for eternal damnation.
- 189 ↩supplier: rendered as 'make good' / supply what is lacking; it can also mean intercede for, which remains a possible secondary sense.
- 190 ↩Il most naturally continues the preceding Pauline/scriptural voice (1 Cor 2:9): what Scripture still says of the prepared good is only to stir desire for what remains unnameable.
- 191 ↩Self-correction of voir from the previous line: not merely what cannot be seen, but (as s5 completes) what cannot be thought or felt.
- 192 ↩Middle French paradox: Faith lets the soul possess (posséder) the invisible good it cannot physically hold (tenir).
- 193 ↩Charité rendered Charity as the theological virtue (with Faith and Hope), not generic warmth of feeling.
- 194 ↩Si en nous est: understood subject is Charity/God from the preceding line (Charité est DIEU).
- 195 ↩tel est l'avoir, / Que de le dire en nous n'est le povoir: the having itself exceeds speech; continues the prior section's theme that even Paul could not fully declare what faith makes us desire and possess.
- 196 ↩MARGUERITE is capitalized in the source: both Marguerite (the speaker’s name) and marguerite as pearl. Rendered here as “His pearl,” preserving the spiritual double sense without collapsing the name-play.
- 197 ↩fein is taken as foin (hay/straw), a conventional self-abasement image with poudre, ordure, and fange.
The Miroir or Glasse of the Synneful Soul (Princess Elizabeth's Translation) companion
A daily portion of stillness
Chosen Portion delivers one short contemplative reading and a guided moment of silence each day — the ascent, one step at a time.
Chosen Portion is the paced doorway into this collection: it portions the dense mystical treatises into one daily reading plus guided silence, exactly as the 14-day plan teaches.
- Daily bite-sized excerpts from the contemplative classics, never a wall of text
- A built-in timed stillness practice that grows from 2 minutes to 10
- Gentle progression through the tradition — the app remembers where you are on the ascent