e nerves,
tremors in the body, anxiety of the spirit, and that which has not yet
appeared becomes present to him, and is certainly worse than whatsoever
may happen. What can be more stupid than to be in pain about future
things and absent ones which at present are not felt?

CES. These considerations are on the surface and belong to the external
of the figure. But the proposition of the heroic enthusiast, I think,
deals with the imbecility of human nature (ingegno) which, intent on the
Divine undertaking, finds itself all at once engulphed in the abyss of
incomprehensible excellence, and the sense and the imagination become
confused and absorbed, and not knowing how to pass on, nor to go back,
nor where to turn, vanishes and loses itself as a drop of water vanishes
in the sea, or as a small spirit, becomes attenuated, losing its own
substance in the space and immensity of the atmosphere.

MAR. Well. But let us go towards our chamber and talk as we go, for it
is night.

=Second Dialogue=

MARICONDO. Here you see a flaming yoke enveloped in knots round which is
written: Levius aura; which means that Divine love does not weigh down,
nor carry his servant captive and enslaved to the lowest depths, but
raises him, supports him and magnifies him above all liberty whatsoever.

CES. Prithee, let us read the sonnet, so that we may consider the sense
of it in due order with propriety and brevity.

MAR. It says thus:--

54.

She who my mind to other love did move,
To whom all others vile and vain appear,
In whom alone is sovereign beauty seen,
And excellence Divine is manifest.
She from the forest coming, I beheld,
Huntress of myself, beloved Artemis,
'Midst beauteous nymphs, with air of nascent bells.
Then said I unto Love: See, I am hers.
And he to me: Oh, happy lover thou!
Delectable companion of thy fate!
That she alone of all the numberless,
That hold within their bosom life and death,
Who most with virtues high the world adorns,
Thou didst obtain, through will and destiny,
Within the Court of Love.
So happy thou in thy captivity
Thou enviest not the liberty of man or God.

See how contented he is under that yoke, that marriage which has joined
him to her whom he saw issuing from the forest, from the desert, from
the woods, that is, from parts removed from the crowd, and from the
conversation of the vulgar who have but small enlighten