"Sed dic mihi, quoniam deo mundum regi non ambigis, quibus etiam gubernaculis regatur aduertis?" "Vix," inquam, "rogationis tuae sententiam nosco, nedum ad inquisita respondere queam." "Num me," inquit, "fefellit abesse aliquid, per quod, uelut hiante ualli robore, in animum tuum perturbationum morbus inrepserit? Sed dic mihi, meministine, quis sit rerum finis, quoue totius naturae tendat intentio?" "Audieram," inquam, "sed memoriam maeror hebetauit." "Atqui scis unde cuncta processerint?" "Noui," inquam, deumque esse respondi. "Et qui fieri potest, ut principio cognito quis sit rerum finis ignores? Verum hi perturbationum mores, ea ualentia est, ut mouere quidem loco hominem possint, conuellere autem sibique totum exstirpare non possint.
Sed hoc quoque respondeas uelim, hominemne te esse meministi?" "Quidni," inquam, "meminerim?" "Quid igitur homo sit, poterisne proferre?" "Hocine interrogas an esse me sciam rationale animal atque mortale? Scio et id me esse confiteor." Et illa: "Nihilne aliud te esse nouisti?" "Nihil."
"Iam scio," inquit, "morbi tui aliam uel maximam causam; quid ipse sis, nosse desisti. Quare plenissime uel aegritudinis tuae rationem uel aditum reconciliandae sospitatis inueni. Nam quoniam tui obliuione confunderis, et exsulem te et exspoliatum propriis bonis esse doluisti. Quoniam uero quis sit rerum finis ignoras, nequam homines atque nefarios potentes felicesque arbitraris. Quoniam uero quibus gubernaculis mundus regatur oblitus es, has fortunarum uices aestimas sine rectore fluitare—magnae non ad morbum modo uerum ad interitum quoque causae. Sed sospitatis auctori grates, quod te nondum totum natura destituit. Habemus maximum tuae fomitem salutis ueram de mundi gubernatione sententiam, quod eam non casuum temeritati sed diuinae rationi subditam credis. Nihil igitur pertimescas; iam tibi ex hac minima scintillula uitalis calor inluxerit. Sed quoniam firmioribus remediis nondum tempus est et eam mentium constat esse naturam, ut quotiens abiecerint ueras falsis opinionibus induantur ex quibus orta perturbationum caligo uerum illum confundit intuitum, hanc paulisper lenibus mediocribusque fomentis attenuare temptabo, ut dimotis fallacium affectionum tenebris splendorem uerae lucis possis agnoscere.
VI.
First, therefore, wilt thou let me touch and try the state of thy mind by asking thee a few questions, that I may understand how thou art to be cured?" To which I answered: "Ask me what questions thou wilt, and I will answer thee." And then she said: "Thinkest thou that this world is governed by haphazard and chance? Or rather dost thou believe that it is ruled by reason?" "I can," quoth I, "in no manner imagine that such certain motions are caused by rash chance. And I know that God the Creator doth govern His work, nor shall the day ever come to draw me from the truth of that judgment."
"It is so," saith she, "for so thou saidst in thy verse a little before, and bewailedst that only men were void of God's care; for as for the rest, thou didst not doubt but that they were governed by reason. And surely I cannot choose but exceedingly admire how thou canst be ill affected, holding so wholesome an opinion. But let us search further; I guess thou wantest something, but I know not what.
Tell me, since thou doubtest not that the world is governed by God, canst thou tell me also by what means it is governed?" "I do scarcely," quoth I, "understand what thou askest, and much less am I able to make thee a sufficient answer." "Was I," quoth she, "deceived in thinking that thou wantedst something by which, as by the breach of a fortress, the sickness of perturbations hath entered into thy mind? But tell me, dost thou remember what is the end of things? Or to what the whole intention of nature tendeth?" "I have heard it," quoth I, "but grief hath dulled my memory." "But knowest thou from whence all things had their beginning?" "I know," quoth I, and answered, that from God. "And how can it be that, knowing the beginning, thou canst be ignorant of the end? But this is the condition and force of perturbations, that they may alter a man, but wholly destroy, and as it were root him out of himself, they cannot.
But I would have thee answer me to this also; dost thou remember that thou art a man?" "Why should I not remember it?" quoth I. "Well then, canst thou explicate what man is?" "Dost thou ask me if I know that I am a reasonable and mortal living creature? I know and confess myself to be so." To which she replied: "Dost thou not know thyself to be anything else?" "Not anything."
"Now I know," quoth she, "another, and that perhaps the greatest, cause of thy sickness: thou hast forgotten what thou art. Wherefore I have fully found out both the manner of thy disease and the means of thy recovery; for the confusion which thou art in, by the forgetfulness of thyself, is the cause why thou art so much grieved at thy exile and the loss of thy goods. And because thou art ignorant what is the end of things, thou thinkest that lewd and wicked men be powerful and happy; likewise, because thou hast forgotten by what means the world is governed, thou imaginest that these alternations of fortune do fall out without any guide, sufficient causes not only of sickness, but also of death itself. But thanks be to the author of thy health, that Nature hath not altogether forsaken thee. We have the greatest nourisher of thy health, the true opinion of the government of the world, in that thou believest that it is not subject to the events of chance, but to divine reason. Wherefore fear nothing; out of this little sparkle will be enkindled thy vital heat. But because it is not yet time to use more solid remedies, and it is manifest that the nature of minds is such that as often as they cast away true opinions they are possessed with false, out of which the darkness of perturbations arising doth make them that they cannot discern things aright, I will endeavour to dissolve this cloud with gentle and moderate fomentations; that having removed the obscurity of deceitful affections, thou mayest behold the splendour of true light.