|
11. But why do I speak of these things? For this is not the time
to question, but rather to confess unto Thee. Miserable I was, and
miserable is every soul fetter. ed by the friendship of perishable
things he is torn to pieces when he loses them, and then is
sensible of the misery which he had before ever he lost them. Thus was
it at that time with me; I wept most bitterly, and found rest in
bitterness. Thus was I miserable, and that life of misery I
accounted dearer than my friend. For though I would willingly have
changed it, yet I was even more unwilling to lose it than him; yea,
I knew not whether I was willing to lose it even for him, as is
handed down to us (if not an invention) of Pylades and Orestes,
that they would gladly have died one for another, or both together, it
being worse than death to them not to live together. But there had
sprung up in me some kind of feeling, too, contrary to this, for both
exceedingly wearisome was it to me to live, and dreadful to die, I
suppose, the more I loved him, so much the more did I hate and
fear, as a most cruel enemy, that death which had robbed me of him;
and I imagined it would suddenly annihilate all men, as it had power
over him. TItus, I remember, it was with me. Behold my heart,
O my God! Behold and look into me, for I remember it well, O my
Hope! who cleansest me from the uncleanness of such affections,
directing mine eyes towards Thee, and plucking my feet out of the
net. For I was astonished that other mortals lived, since he whom I
loved, as if he would never die, was dead; and I wondered still more
that I, who was to him a second self, could live when he was dead.
Well did one say of his friend, "Thou half of my soul," for I
felt that my soul and his soul were but one soul in two bodies; and,
consequently, my life was a horror to me, because I would not live in
half. And therefore, perchance, was I afraid to die. lest he
should die wholly whom I had so greatly loved.
|
|