2. Secondly, in that hour I must by force depart from my parents and brethren, friends and acquaintance, and from all those that I love, whether it be with a natural love or any other, either lawful or unlawful. And as we leave not without grief what we possessed with love, [1] and by how much the greater the love is, wherewith it is possessed, so much the greater grief is felt in abandoning it; exceeding great will the sorrow be that I shall feel to depart from so many persons and things that are so fastened to my heart. And in these anguishes I shall say with that other king, "Siccine separat amara mors?" "Doth bitter death separate in this manner?" [2] Is it possible that I should leave those whom I so love? And shall I never more see them, nor enjoy them? O cruel Death, how much dost thou rend my heart, depriving me with such sorrow of what I possessed with such joy!
3. Lastly, in that hour my soul is to depart from my body, with which it has held so close and old a friendship, and consequently it is to depart from this world, and from all things in it contained, without hope ever again to see, hear, taste or touch them. And if the love I bear to my body, to my life, and to the other things of this visible world, be an inordinate love, I must needs feel exceeding great grief to depart from them; which I may easily realise by that sensible feeling I have when they take from me my wealth, my honour and fame, or exile me from my country, and force me to live from my friends like a pilgrim among strangers, or cut off some member of my body. For all this joined together happens in death, with another and more painful condition, which is — without hope ever to return again to possess it in this life.
4. In each of these three considerations, pondering awhile what is to be noted, I will enter into myself and examine
