"O, Thou of infinite mercy and compassion, dry the hot tears that flood and burn my face," he said brokenly as he looked toward Tulla. People now say that his tears marked and ate into the stone, and that the print of his hands is still to be found on it.
After he had reached a very wide river and had commanded his followers to help build a bridge across it, he was met by some men who tried to stop him.
"Where are you going?" they asked, "and why do you leave your city? To whose care will you commend it, and who will do penance in it?" The Golden Hearted answered them firmly:
"You can in no wise hinder me, for I must go."
"But where are you going?" they insisted.
"To Tlapalla," he answered.
"For what purpose are you going?"
"The sun calls me," he said.
"Go then," they replied, "but leave behind all the mechanical arts, the melting of silver, the working of precious stones and of masonry, picture writing, feather work and other crafts." And then they would have robbed him, but he threw all his rich jewels into a fountain. Among his tormentors was the pretended old wizard who tried to induce him to drink more wine.
"No, I can not drink it. I can not even taste it again," he said, and that night in his sleep he turned his head from side to side and tore his hair with his hands.