For Pride will lie dormant in thy heart, to snatch his secret opportunity,
Watching, as a lion-ant, in the bottom of his toils.
Stay not to parley with thy foe, for his tongue is more potent than his arm;
But be wiser, fighting against Pride in the simple panoply of prayer.
As one also of the poets hath said, let not the Proteus escape thee;
For he will blaze forth as fire, and quench himself in likeness of water;
He will fright thee as a roaring beast, or charm thee as a subtle reptile.
Mark, amid all his transformations, the complicate deceitfulness of Pride,
And the more he striveth to elude thee, bind him the closer in thy toils.
Prayer is the net that snareth him; prayer is the fetter that holdeth him: