TANS. This occurs when spirits are vicious and tinged as with the same hue; since, through conformity, love is excited, enkindled, and confirmed. Thus the vicious easily concur in acts of the same vice; and I will not refrain from repeating that which I know by experience, for although I may have discovered in a soul vices very much abominated by me--as, for instance, filthy avarice, base greediness for money, ingratitude for favours and courtesies received, or a love of quite vile persons, of which this last most displeases, because it takes away the hope from the lover, that by becoming or making himself more worthy he may become more acceptable--in spite of all this, it is true that I did burn for corporeal beauty. But how? I loved against my will; for, were it not so, I should have been more saddened than cheered by troubles and misfortunes. CIC. It is a very proper and nice distinction that is made between loving and liking. TANS. Truly; because we like many--that is, we desire that they be wise and just; but we love them not because they are unjust and ignorant; many we love because they are beautiful, but we do not like them, because they do not deserve it; and amongst other things of which the lover deems the loved one undeserving, the first is, being loved; and yet, although he cannot abstain from loving, nevertheless he regrets it, and shows his regret like him who said, "Woe is me! who am compelled by passion to coalesce with evil." In the opposite mood was he, either through some corporeal object in similitude or through a divine subject in reality, when he said: 15. Although to many pains thou dost subject me, Yet do I thank thee, love, and owe thee much, That thou my breast dost cleave with noble wound, And then dost take my heart and master it. Thus true it is, that I, on earth, adore A living object, image most beautiful of God. Let him who will think that my fate is bad That kills in hope and quickens in desire. My pasture is the high emprise, And though the end desired be not attained, And though my soul in many thoughts is spent, Enough that she enkindle noble fire, Enough that she has lifted me on high, And from the ignoble crowd has severed me.