Greco-Christian stream·Beguine Mystics·The Flowing Light of the Godhead — Books I-VII (complete)·Book I

Book I

The text below is translated from the Alemannic recension preserved in MS Einsiedeln 277 (late fourteenth century), as transcribed by Pius Gallus Morel in his 1869 critical edition. The Alemannic itself is a translation of Mechthild's lost Middle Low German original, composed and dictated between roughly 1250 and 1282. The English here is therefore at one further remove from Mechthild's own words than the Alemannic; readers who need the closest available text should consult the Morel edition or, for the High German modernization with critical apparatus, Hans Neumann (Tübingen, 1990–1993). The two complete modern English translations — Lucy Menzies (Longmans, Green, 1953) and Frank Tobin (Paulist Press, 1997) — are both copyrighted and remain the standard scholarly references.

A few of Mechthild's recurring terms have been anchored to English equivalents throughout. Minne (love personified) is rendered "Love" when she appears as Mechthild's interlocutor, "love" when the affect is meant. Brûtegome is rendered "Bridegroom" (Christ); brût is "bride" (the soul). Künegine — the soul as queen — is rendered "Queen" or "Lady-Queen." Drivaltikeit is "Trinity." Drivaltikeit vnbeginlich is "the beginningless Trinity." Bekantnisse and gebrûchunge — Augustine's cognitio and fruitio — are "knowing" and "enjoyment." Jubilus is preserved untranslated as a technical term of the Bernardine tradition.

Mechthild's prose moves freely between rhymed couplets, antiphonal dialogue, lyric address, and prose narration. The English preserves the line-breaks of the original where Mechthild wrote in verse; the couplet-rhymes themselves are not preserved when the cost in fidelity would have been too high. Numerology — patterns of three, seven, nine, twelve — is preserved exactly. Where the OCR of Morel's edition is damaged beyond reliable reconstruction, the rendering follows the most defensible reading and a footnote flags the uncertainty.

This is the first part of this book.

This book one should gladly receive, for God himself speaks the words.

This book I now send as a messenger to all spiritual people, to the bad and the good alike — for when the pillars fall, the work cannot stand. The book signifies myself alone, and praiseworthily makes known my secret things. All who would understand this book should read it nine times.¹

This book shall be called A Flowing Light of the Godhead.

Ah, Lord God, who has made this book? — I have made it in my powerlessness, for in my gift I cannot hold back. Ah, Lord, what shall this book be called, to your honour alone? — It shall be called: A Flowing Light of My Godhead, into all the hearts that live without falseness.

I. How Love and the Queen spoke together.²

The soul came to Love and greeted her with deep understanding, saying: God greet you, my Lady Love. — God reward you, dear Lady Queen. Lady Love, you are most perfect. — Lady Queen, that is why I am above all things. Lady Love, you have struggled many years before you compelled the high Trinity to pour itself out, all at once, into Mary's humble maidenhood.

Lady Queen, this is your honour and your gain. — Lady Love, you have taken from me all that I ever won in this earthly realm. Lady Queen, you have made a blessed exchange. — Lady Love, you have taken from me my childhood. Lady Queen, for this I have given you heavenly freedom. — Lady Love, you have taken from me my youth. Lady Queen, for this I have given you many a holy virtue. — Lady Love, you have taken from me good friends and kin. Ah, Lady Queen, that is a paltry complaint. — Lady Love, you have taken from me the world, worldly honour, and all worldly wealth. Lady Queen — in a single hour, with the Holy Spirit, I shall repay you on earth all you would wish. Lady Love, you have so deeply forced me that my body has come into strange weakness.³ Lady Queen, for this I have given you many high knowings. Lady Love, you have consumed my flesh and my blood. Lady Queen — by this you are made pure and drawn into God. Lady Love, you are a robber-woman; even so, you must pay me. Lady Queen, then take me myself. Lady Love, now you have repaid me a hundredfold on earth. Lady Queen — yet you have still to demand God and all his kingdoms.

II. Of the three Persons and the three gifts.

The true greeting of God, which comes from the heavenly flood out of the fountain of the flowing Trinity, has such great power that it takes all might from the body and makes the soul manifest to herself, so that she sees herself like to the saints, and then takes onto herself the divine radiance. Then the soul departs from the body with all her power, wisdom, love, and longing; only the least part of her life remains with the body, as in a sweet sleep. Then she sees one whole God in three Persons, and knows the three Persons in one God undivided. Then he greets her with the courtly speech that is not understood in this kitchen, and clothes her in the garments one wears to the palace, and gives himself into her power. Then she may pray and ask what she will, and is answered. Why she is not always answered, that is the first cause of three. Then he draws her further, to a hidden place. There she may neither pray nor ask for anyone, for he wishes to play alone with her a game which the body does not know, nor the peasants beside the plough, nor the knights in tournament, nor his loving mother Mary — none of them may take part there. Then they float still further, to a place of bliss, of which I may not and will not say much. It is too unspeakable; I do not dare, for I am a very sinful person. But when the endless God brings the groundless soul into the heights, she loses the earth from the marvel and does not feel that she was ever on earth at all. When the play is at its best, then it must be let go.

Then says the blossoming God: Maiden, you must bow down. She is startled: Lord, now you have drawn me so far that I cannot, with any order, praise you here in my body — only suffer in exile and contend against the body. He says: Ah, my dear dove, your voice is music to my ears; your words are spices to my mouth; your longings are the abundance of my gift. She says: Dear Lord, it must be as the householder commands. Then she sighs with all her might, so that the body is shaken. Then the body says: Ah, lady, where have you been? You return so lovingly, beautiful and full of power, free and rich in sense. Your wandering has taken from me my savour, my rest, my colour, and all my strength. She says: Be silent, murderer, let your complaining be; I shall always guard myself from you, so that my enemy be wounded — that troubles us not; I rejoice in it.

This is a greeting that has many veins, that presses out from the flowing God into the poor, dry souls at all times, with new knowing, with new beholding, and in special enjoyment of the new presence. Ah, sweet God, fiery within, blossoming without — since you have given this to the least, might I yet attain the life you have given to your greatest, I would gladly languish all the longer for it. This greeting neither can nor must any receive, unless he has overcome himself and been brought to nothing.

In this greeting I will die alive; this the blind saints may never undo for me — those who love and do not know.

III. Of the maidens of the soul and the strokes of Love.⁴

All holy Christian virtues are the soul's maidens. The soul's sweet vexation laments her distress to Love.

THE SOUL: Ah, most beloved maiden, you have long been my chamberlain; now tell me, how shall I now be. You have hunted me, captured me, bound me, and so deeply wounded me that I shall never be whole. You have given me many a cold blow; tell me, shall I at last live before you? Will I not be killed by your hand? Then it were better for me I had never known you.

LOVE: That I hunted you, that loosened me; that I caught you, that I desired; that I bound you, in this I rejoiced. When I wounded you, then you were made one with me; when I gave you cool strokes, then I became powerful in you. I have driven almighty God from the heavenly kingdom, and have taken from him his human life, and have, with honour, given him back to his Father. How then, poor worm, may you live before me?

THE SOUL: Speak, my empress; I dread some small secret medicine that God has often given me, that I may recover thereby.

LOVE: When the prisoners are not to be killed, then water and bread are given to them. The medicine God has often given you is nothing else than a respite into this mortal life. But when your Easter-day comes and your body receives the death-stroke, then I shall wholly surround you and pass wholly through you, and shall steal you from your body and give you to your Beloved.

THE SOUL: Love, this letter I have written from your mouth; now give me, lady, your seal.

LOVE: Whoever has ever loved God above himself knows well where to take the seal: it lies between us two.

THE SOUL: Be silent, Love; speak no more. Bow down to him for me, dearest of all maidens, on behalf of all creatures, and on my own behalf.

Tell my beloved that his bed is made, and that I am love-sick for him. If this letter is too long, the fault is mine: I was in the meadow, where I was binding flowers of many kinds.

This is a sweet lament of sorrow: Whoever dies of Love, let him be buried in gold.

IV. Of the soul's court-journey, on which God shows himself.

When the poor soul comes to court, she is wise and well-bred; she gazes joyfully upon her God. Ah, how lovingly she is received there. Then she is silent, and longs immeasurably for his praise. Then he shows her, with great longing, his divine heart. It is like to the red gold that burns in a great coal-fire. Then he places her in his glowing heart, so that the high prince and the little servant-maid embrace and are united as water and wine. Then she becomes nothing and comes out of herself, as though she could no more; and he is love-sick for her, as he ever was, for nothing comes to him or goes from him. Then she says: Lord, you are my consolation, my longing, my flowing fountain, my pillar — and I am your mirror. This is a court-journey of the loving soul, who without God may not exist.

V. Of the torment and the wages of hell.

My body is in long torment, my soul is in high bliss, for she has beheld and embraced her Beloved with her arms, wholly. From him she has the torment, the very poor one. When he draws her, she is lost. She cannot contain herself until he brings her into himself. Then she would gladly speak, and cannot. Then she is utterly enclosed within the marvellous Trinity in high union. Then he releases her a little, that she may have longing. Then she desires his praise, but cannot find it as she would. Indeed, she would that he should send her to hell, in order that he might be praised beyond measure by all creatures. Then she looks upon him and speaks to him: Lord, give me your blessing. He looks upon her, draws her back, and gives her a greeting of which the body may not speak.

Then the body says to the soul: Where have you been? I can no more. The soul says: Be silent, you are a fool. I will be with my Beloved, even should you never recover. I am his joy; he is my torment.

This is her torment: that she may never recover. May this torment befall you; never may you escape it.

VI. Of the nine choirs, how they sing.

Now hear, dear one, hear with spiritual ears, how the nine choirs sing:

We praise you, Lord, that you have sought us out with your humility. We praise you, Lord, that you have preserved us with your mercy. We praise you, Lord, that you have honoured us with your lowliness. We praise you, Lord, that you have led us with your generosity. We praise you, Lord, that you have ordered us with your wisdom. We praise you, Lord, that you have shielded us with your power. We praise you, Lord, that you have sanctified us with your nobility. We praise you, Lord, that you have made us certain with your secret things. We praise you, Lord, that you have raised us with your love.⁵

VII. Of God's curse in eight things.

I curse you: your body must die, your word must perish, your eyes must close, your heart must flow out, your soul must rise, your body must remain.²⁶ Your human senses must pass away, your spirit must stand before the holy Trinity.

VIII. The least praises God in ten things.

O you burning mountain, O you chosen sun! O you full moon, O you groundless fountain! O you unreachable height, O you brightness beyond measure! O wisdom without ground! O mercy without hindrance! O strength without resistance! O crown of all honours! You are praised by the least one you ever made!

IX. With three things you dwell on the heights.

Those who burn in true love and build upon a steadfast ground of truth and bring forth fruit with full sheaves of the blessed end — these dwell on the heights. (Gloss: that is, above the Seraphim.)

X. He who loves God conquers three things.

Whatever person overcomes the world, and takes from his body all useless will, and conquers the devil — that is the soul that loves God. If the world gives her a thrust, she suffers from it little harm. If the flesh gives her a stumble, the spirit is not made sick thereby. If the devil gives her a glance, the soul takes no notice of it; she loves and she loves and can do nothing else but love.

XI. Four are in the battle of God.

O dove without gall! O maiden without sorrow! O knight without wounds! O servant undismayed! These are the four who please God well in his battle.

XII. The soul praises God in five things.⁶

O Emperor of all honours! O Crown of all princes! O Wisdom of all masters! O Giver of all gifts! O Releaser of all prisoners.

XIII. How God comes into the soul.

I come to my Beloved as a dew upon the flowers.

XIV. How the soul receives and praises God.

Ah, joyful beholding! Ah, lovely greeting! Ah, loving embrace! Lord, your wonder has wounded me, your grace has pressed me down. O you high rock, you are so well bored through — in you none may nest but doves and nightingales.

XV. How God receives the soul.

Welcome, dear dove. You have flown so hard upon the earth that your wings have grown into the kingdom of heaven.

XVI. God likens the soul to four things.

You taste like a grape-cluster, you smell like balsam, you shine like the sun, you are an increase of my highest love.

XVII. The soul praises God in five things.

O you pouring God in your gift! O you flowing God in your love! O you burning God in your longing! O you melting God in the union with your Beloved! O you resting God upon my breasts, without which I cannot be!

XVIII. God likens the soul to five things.

O you fair rose in the thorn! O you flying bee in the honey! O you pure dove in your being! O you bright sun in your shining! O you full moon in your standing! I cannot turn from you.

XIX. God caresses the soul in six things.

You are my pillow, my loving bed, my most secret rest, my deepest longing, my highest honour. You are a delight of my Godhead, a consolation of my manhood, a brook for my heat.

XX. The soul praises God in return in six things.

You are my mirror-mountain, a feast for the eye, a losing of myself, a storm in my heart, a fall and a renouncing of my power, my highest security.

XXI. Of knowing and of enjoyment.

Love without knowing is to the wise soul a darkness. Knowing without enjoyment is to her a hell-pain. Enjoyment without dying she cannot complain away.

XXII. Of Saint Mary's annunciation, and how one virtue follows another, and how the soul became a jubilus of the Trinity, and how holy Mary suckled all the saints and suckles them still.⁷

The sweet dew of the beginningless Trinity has sprung from the fountain of the eternal Godhead into the flower of the chosen Maiden; and the fruit of this flower is an undying God and a dying man and a living consolation of eternal love. And our redemption has become Bridegroom. The bride is made drunk by the gazing of the noble face. In the greatest strength she comes out of herself; in the greatest blindness she sees most clearly. In the greatest clarity she is both dead and alive. The longer she is dead, the more joyfully she lives. The more joyfully she lives, the more she experiences. The less she becomes, the more flows into her. The more she fears,⁸ the richer she becomes; the poorer she is, the deeper she dwells; the broader she is, the more she rules. The more wounded, the deeper her wounds; the more she storms, the more lovingly God turns toward her; the higher she floats, the more beautifully she shines from the answering-glance of the Godhead, the nearer she comes to him. The more she works, the more softly she rests; the more she grasps, the more silently she is still. The more openly she calls, the greater are the wonders she works with his strength according to her power. The more his delight increases, the greater her wedding-feast becomes; the narrower the loving union becomes, the closer the embrace; the sweeter tastes the mouth-kiss; the more lovingly they look upon each other, the harder it is for them to part. The more he gives her, the more she consumes, the more she has. The more humbly she takes her leave, the sooner she returns. The hotter she remains, the sooner she is kindled. The more she burns, the more beautifully she shines. The more God's praise is spread abroad, the greater her desire remains.

Ah, how far our redeeming Bridegroom journeys in the jubilus of the holy Trinity! When God could no more contain himself within himself, then he made the soul and gave himself to her as her own, out of great love. — Of what are you made, soul, that you climb so high above all creatures and mingle yourself in the holy Trinity, and yet remain wholly in yourself?⁹ You have spoken of my beginning; now I tell you truly: I am made in that very place out of Love, and therefore no creature may comfort me or answer me according to my noble nature, save only Love. — Lady Saint Mary, of this wonder you are the mother. How did this happen to you? — When our Father's jubilus* was troubled by Adam's fall, so that he had to be angry, then the eternal Wisdom of the almighty Godhead received the anger together with me. Then the Father chose me as a bride, that he might have something to love, for his dear bride was dead — the noble soul. And the Son chose me as a mother, and the Holy Spirit received me as a dearling. Thus I was sole bride of the holy Trinity and mother of the orphans, and I bore them before God's eyes, so that they did not entirely sink, as some however did. When I was thus mother of the gentle, noble child, my breasts became so full of the pure, undefiled milk of the true, mild mercy that I suckled the prophets and the seers before God was born. Then in my childhood I suckled Jesus; later, in my youth, I suckled God's bride, holy Christendom, beside the cross — so that I became dry and pitiful, and the sword of Jesus' fleshly pain cut spiritually into my soul. Then both stood open: his wounds, and her breasts. The wounds poured, the breasts flowed, so that the soul lived and became wholly whole. When he poured the white-red wine into her red mouth — when she was thus born from the open wounds and made alive — she was childlike and very young. Were she now, after her death and her birth, to recover fully, then God's mother had to be her mother and her nurse. — God, it was and is fitting. God is her rightful Father and she his rightful bride; and she is like him in all her sufferings. Lady, in your old age you suckled the holy apostles with your motherly teaching and with your mighty prayer, so that God did his honour and his will in them. Lady, thus you suckled then, and you still suckle the martyrs in their hearts with strong faith; the confessors with holy protection in their ears; the maidens with your chastity; the widows with steadfastness; the consecrated with mildness; the sinners with petition.

Lady, you must still suckle us, for your breasts are yet so full that with might you must press them out. Would you suckle no more, the milk would pain you sorely. For truly, I have seen your breasts so full that seven streams poured all at once from a single breast over my body and over my soul. In that hour you take from me a labour that no friend of God may bear without heart-sorrow. Thus shall you suckle until the last day; then shall you grow dry, when God's children and yours are weaned and grown to the full into the eternal life. Ah, after that we shall know and behold in unspeakable delight the milk and the very breast that Jesus so often kissed.*

XXIII. You shall pray that God love you sore, often, and long — so will you become pure, fair, and lasting.¹⁰

Ah Lord, love me sore and love me often and long, for the more often you love me, the purer I become; the sorer you love me, the fairer I become; the longer you love me, the holier I become here on earth.

XXIV. How God answers the soul.

That I love you often, I have from nature, for I myself am Love. That I love you sore, I have from my longing,¹¹ for I desire that I should be sorely loved. That I love you long, that is from my eternity, for I am without end.

XXV. Of the way of suffering pain gladly for God.

God leads his children, whom he has chosen, by marvellous ways. It is a marvellous way and a noble way and a holy way, which God himself went: that a person should suffer pain without sin and without guilt. On this way the soul who is hungry for God rejoices, for she rejoices by nature in her bridegroom, who through his benevolence has suffered much pain. And her dear Lord, the heavenly Father, gave his dearest Son that he should be tormented by the heathen and martyred by the Jews without his own guilt. And the time has come when certain people who appear spiritual torment God's children in body and martyr them in spirit, for he wishes to make them like his dear Son, who was tormented in body and in soul.

XXVI. On this way the soul draws in her senses and is free of heart-sorrow.

It is a rare and lofty way, on which the faithful soul wanders and leads her senses after her, as the seeing-one leads the blind. On this way the soul lives without heart-sorrow, for she wills nothing other than what her Lord wills, who does all things best.

XXVII. How you may be worthy of this way, and keep to it, and become perfect.

Three things make one worthy of this way, so that he knows it and comes onto it. The first, that the person force himself in God without any mastery, and keep God's grace silently, and bear it willingly, in renouncing all things contrary to the human will. The second keeps the person on the way: that all things, save sin alone, be matter of thanks to him. The third makes the person perfect on the way: that all things alike be done to God's honour — for my poorest necessity I will reckon to God as highly as if I were in the highest contemplation a person may enter; the reason being that when I do it out of love for God's honour, then it is all one. But when I sin, I am not on this way.

XXVIII. Love must be mortal, without measure, without ceasing — this is the folly of fools.¹²

I rejoice that I must love him who loves me, and I desire mortally to love him without measure and without ceasing: Rejoice, my soul, for your life has died of love²⁸ for him, and love him so sorely that you may die for him — then will you burn ever after, unextinguished, as a living spark in the great fire of the living Majesty.

So shall you become full of love-fire, that here you may be so well. You need not teach me further; I cannot turn from love; I must be its prisoner; I cannot otherwise live. Where it dwells, there I may abide, both in death and in life. This is the folly of fools, who live without heart-sorrow.

XXIX. Of the beauty of the Bridegroom, and how the little bride must follow him.

Vide, mea sponsa:¹³ See how beautiful my eyes are, how just my mouth, how fiery my heart, how nimble my hands, how swift my feet — and follow me. You shall be martyred with me, betrayed in envy, sought in danger, captured in hatred, bound in slander, your eyes blindfolded so that none will know the truth from you, slapped with the wrath of the world, brought before the court at confession, struck on the ear with penance, sent to Herod in mockery, stripped in exile, scourged with poverty, crowned with temptation, spat upon with disgrace, bearing your cross in the hatred of sins, crucified in renunciation of all things according to your will, nailed to the cross with the holy virtues, wounded with Love, dying on the cross in holy constancy, stabbed in the heart with steadfast union, taken down from the cross in true victory over all your foes, buried in holy humility, brought through purgatory in heart-fervour going up to heaven.¹⁴

[Morning hours:] Praise God in love. [Prime:] Let us love. [Terce:] Let us love. [Sext:] Let us love. [None:] Let us love. [Vespers:] Let us love. [Compline:] Let us love.

XXX. Of the seven hours.¹⁵

[The text here is fragmentary in Morel; the chapter appears to set the canonical hours — prime, terce, sext, none, vespers, compline — and an eighth concluding hour, each gathered under the antiphon love, and love, and love.]

XXXI. You shall not heed disgrace.

I was once despised, and our Lord said: Do not wonder at it overmuch. When the rose-tree¹⁶ was so harshly cast away and trodden under, what then must happen to the vinegar-tree, of which nothing good ever comes by itself?

XXXII. You shall not heed honours, pains, distresses — only sin.

When honour is offered you, you should be ashamed; when you are tormented, you should rejoice; when good is done to you, you should fear; when you act against me, you should be saddened from the heart. If you cannot grieve, see how sorely and how long I grieved for you.

XXXIII. Of the prebend of consolation and love.

The soul spoke thus to her Beloved: Lord, your generosity does wonders to the senses of my body; your mercy does so to the suffering of my soul. Love is rest.

XXXIV. In suffering you must be a lamb, a turtledove, a bride.¹⁷

You shall be like a turtledove in this exile, [the rest of the chapter is corrupt in Morel].

XXXV. The wilderness has twelve things.¹⁸

You shall love nothing, you shall flee nothingness, you shall stand alone and go to no one. You shall be very busy and free from all things. You shall unbind the prisoners and constrain the free. You shall comfort the sick and yet have nothing yourself. You shall drink the water of pain and kindle the fire of love with the wood of the virtues. Thus you dwell in the true wilderness.

XXXVI. Of the goodness of evil and of marvels.

With the evil of your enemies you shall be adorned. With the virtues of your heart you shall be honoured. With your good works you shall be crowned. With the love between us two you shall be raised. With my joyful wonders you shall be sanctified.

XXXVII. The soul answers God, that she is worthy of grace.

O dearest one! Innocent disgrace delights me. Heart-felt virtues I desire. Good works, alas, I have not. The love between us two — that I spoil. Of your fair wonder I am wholly unworthy.

XXXVIII. God boasts that the soul has overcome four sins.

Our Lord boasts in the heavenly kingdom of his loving soul whom he has on earth, and says: See how she has come, mounting up, who has wounded me. She has cast from her the ape of the world. She has overcome the bear of unchastity. She has trodden under her feet the lion of pride. She has torn open the wolf of greed and split its belly. And she comes running like a hunted stag after the fountain that I am. She comes swinging up like an eagle out of the deep into the heights.

XXXIX. God asks the soul what she brings.¹⁹

You hunt hard in love. Tell me, what do you bring me, my Queen?

XL. She answers him that it is better than four things.²⁷

Lord, I bring you my jewels: they are greater than the mountains, broader than the world, deeper than the sea, higher than the clouds, fairer than the sun, more manifold than the stars; they weigh more than the whole earth.

XLI. God asks, with praise, what the jewel is called.

You²⁰ image of my Godhead, honoured with my manhood, adorned with my Holy Spirit — what are your jewels called?

XLII. The jewel is called the heart's delight.

Lord, it is called my heart's delight; I have withdrawn it from the world, kept it for myself, and refused it to all creatures. Now I can carry it no further. Lord, where shall I lay it down?

XLIII. Lay your delight in the Trinity.

Your heart's delight you must lay nowhere but in my divine heart, and upon my human breasts. There alone are you comforted and kissed by my Spirit.

XLIV. Of Love's way in seven things, of the bride's three garments, and of the dance.

God speaks: Ah, loving soul, would you know what your way is?

THE SOUL: Yes, dear Holy Spirit, teach me. — When you come past the distress of contrition, and past the pain of confession, and past the labour of penance, and past the love of the world, and past the temptation of the devil, and past the excesses of the flesh, and past the cursed self-will that draws so many a soul backward, so that she never comes to true love — and when you have struck down all your greatest foes — then you are so weary that you say: Beautiful Youth, I long for you. Where shall I find you? And the Youth says:

I hear a voice which sounds a little of love. I have wooed her many a day, yet the voice never came to me. Now I am moved; I must go to her.

She is the one who bears together longing and love. In the morning, in the dew, that is the enclosed inwardness, which first goes into the soul.

Then say her chamberlains, who are the five senses:

THE SENSES: Lady, you should clothe yourself. THE SOUL: Dear ones, where shall I go? THE SENSES: We have well overheard the whispering. The Prince will come to meet you in the dew and in the fair birdsong. Ah lady, then do not delay.

So she puts on a shift of gentle humility, and so humble that under it she cannot bear anything. Above it a white robe of pure chastity, and so pure that in thought, in word, or in touch she can no longer bear anything that might stain her. Then she takes round her a mantle of holy reputation, which she has gilded with all the virtues.

So she goes into the wood of the fellowship of holy people. There the sweetest nightingales of well-tempered union with God sing day and night, and many a sweet voice she hears there from the birds of holy knowing. Still the Youth has not come.²¹ Now she sends out messengers, for she will dance, and she sends for Abraham's faith, and for the longing of the prophets, and for the chaste humility of our Lady Saint Mary, and for all the holy virtues of Jesus Christ, and for all the merits of his chosen ones. So there is a fair praise-dance. Then the Youth comes and speaks to her: Maiden, you should now dance after as my chosen ones have danced before you. She says:

I cannot dance, Lord, unless you lead me. If you would have me leap high, then must you yourself sing first. Then I leap into love, from love into knowing, from knowing into enjoyment, from enjoyment beyond all human senses. There I will remain, and yet circle higher still.

(How the bride sings) And the Youth must sing thus: Through me into you, and through you out of me, gladly with you, from you in distress. — Then the Youth says: Maiden, this praise-dance has gone well for you. You shall have your will with the Maiden's Son, for you are now lovingly weary. Come at midday to the brown shade, into the bed of love; there shall you cool yourself with him. The Maiden says:

Lord, it is too great that you are the companion of your love, that you have no love in yourself unless first you are moved by her.²⁹

Then the soul says to her senses, who are her chamberlains: Now I am for a while weary of dancing. Make way for me; I must go where I may be cooled. Then the senses say to the soul: Lady, will you cool yourself in the love-tears of Saint Mary Magdalene; there you may indeed be content. THE SOUL:

Be silent, sirs; you know not all I mean. Leave me alone; I would drink a little unmixed wine.

SENSES: Lady, in the chastity of the maidens the great love is prepared. SOUL: That may well be; that is not the highest in me.

SENSES: In the blood of the martyrs you may sorely cool yourself. SOUL: I have been martyred so many a day that I may not now go there.

SENSES: In the counsel of the confessors pure people gladly dwell. SOUL: With counsel I will ever stand, both in doing and in leaving; yet I may not now go there.

SENSES: In the wisdom of the apostles you find great security. SOUL: I have the wisdom here with me; with that I will ever choose the best.

SENSES: Lady, the angels are bright and fair, love-coloured; if you will cool yourself, lift yourself up to them. SOUL: The bliss of the angels gives me ache when I do not look upon their Lord and my Bridegroom.

SENSES: Then cool yourself in the holy, hard life that God gave to John the Baptist. SOUL: To suffering I am ready. Yet the power of love goes beyond all labour.

SENSES: Lady, would you kneel lovingly, then bend down in the Maiden's lap to the little Child, and see and taste how the angels' joy sucks from the eternal Virgin the supernatural milk. SOUL: That is a childlike love, that one should suckle children and rock them; I am a full-grown bride; I would go after my Beloved.

SENSES: Lady, if you go there we must be wholly blinded, for the Godhead is so fiery hot, as you yourself well know. All the fire and all the glow that lights heaven and all the saints and burns — all that has flowed out of his divine breath and from his human mouth, by the counsel of the Holy Spirit; how could you abide there for even one hour?

SOUL: The fish in the water does not drown. The bird in the air does not sink. The gold in the fire does not perish, for there it receives its brightness and its shining colour. God has given to all creatures that they should keep their nature; how then should I withstand my own nature? I must go from all things into God, who is my Father by nature, my Brother by his manhood, my Bridegroom by love, and I his without beginning. Do you not think that I feel his weal? He can both: powerfully burn and consolingly cool. Now do not be too distressed. You shall yet teach me. When I return, I shall need your teaching well, for the earth is full of many a snare.

So the dearest goes to the most fair into the hidden chamber of the innocent Godhead. There she finds the bed and the dwelling of love, prepared for God and humanity. Then our Lord says: Stand still, Lady Soul. — What do you command, Lord? — You shall be naked. — Lord, how then shall it be with me? — Lady Soul, you are so deeply naturalized into me that between you and me nothing can be. Never was an angel so high as to be granted for one hour what is given you eternally. Therefore you shall lay aside both fear and shame and all outward virtue. Only what is yours by nature shall you wish to feel eternally. That is your noble desire and your groundless greed, which I shall eternally fulfil with my endless generosity.

Lord, now I am a naked soul, and you in yourself are a well-adorned God. The fellowship of us two is the eternal love without death. Then there comes a blessed stillness according to the will of both. He gives himself to her, and she gives herself to him. What now happens to her, she knows — and in this I take my comfort. Now this cannot last long. When two lovers come secretly together, they must often part undivided.

Dear friend of God, this way of love I have written for you; may God breathe it into your heart. Amen.

XLV. Of eight days in which the prophets' longing was fulfilled.

This is a day of longing and of blessed joy in the announcing of Christ.

This is a day of rest and of bodily tenderness in the bearing of Christ.

This is a day of fidelity and of blessed union — the high Thursday.

This is a day of mildness and of heartfelt love — the still Friday.

This is a day of power and of joyful gladness — the resurrection.

This is a day of belief and of pitiful lament — the ascension day.

This is a day of truth and of burning consolation — Pentecost.

This is a day of justice and of the true hour — the last judgment.

This is a week, of which we should keep seven days in constancy. One our Lord will keep with us all on the last day.

XLVI. Of the manifold adornment of the bride, and how she comes to the Bridegroom, and what her retinue is — which is ninefold.

The bride is clothed with the sun and has the moon trodden under her feet, and she is crowned with union.

She has a chaplain, that is fear: he carries a golden rod in his hand, that is wisdom. The chaplain is clothed with the lamb's blood, and is crowned with honour. And wisdom is clothed with well-pleasingness, and is crowned with eternity.

The bride has four maidens. Love leads the bride; Love is clothed with chastity and crowned with dignity. The second is humility: she holds the bride; she is clothed with disregard and crowned with the heights. The third maiden is contrition: she is clothed with the grape-clusters and crowned with joy. The fourth maiden is mercy: she is clothed with the salve and crowned with bliss. The two of them²² bear up the bride's mantle, which is the holy reputation.

She has a bishop, that is faith: he leads the bride before the Bridegroom. The bishop is clothed with precious gems and crowned with the Holy Spirit. The bishop has two knights: the one is strength, who is clothed with battle and crowned with victory; the other is boldness, who is clothed with graciousness and crowned with all bliss.

She has a chamberlain, that is guardianship, who is clothed with steadfastness and crowned with constancy: he bears the light before the bride and bears her train behind. The light is understanding, which is clothed with discretion and crowned with mildness. The train is the holy conscience,²³ which is clothed with good will and crowned with God's pleasure.

She has a cupbearer, that is desire, which is clothed with eagerness and crowned with peace. She has a minstrel, that is love-fellowship; his harp is inwardness; he is clothed with favour and crowned with help.

The bride has five kingdoms. The first are the eyes, which are built with tears and adorned with restraint. The second are the thoughts, which are built with strife and adorned with counsel. The third is speech, which is built with necessity and adorned with fidelity. The fourth is hearing, which is built with God's word and adorned with consolation. The fifth is touch, which is built with power and adorned with pure custom.

These five kingdoms have a steward, who is guilt, who is clothed with confession and crowned with penance. He has a judge, who is clothed with discipline and crowned with patience.

The bride has a pack-horse, which is the body: it is bridled with unworthiness, and disgrace is its fodder, and its stable is confession. The saddle-chest it carries is innocence.

The bride has a pellelbovivir,²⁴ which is hope, who is clothed in truth and crowned with song.

She has a palm in her hand, which is the victory over sin, and a flask in her other hand, which is full of longing and love, which she will bring to her Beloved. She has a peacock-hat, which is the good reputation on earth and high honour in the heavenly kingdom. So she goes a way, which is gentleness, which is clothed with flowing honey and crowned with security.

So she sings then: Chosen beloved, I yearn for you. You take and give me many a heart's pain. Yet I have from you unspeakable suffering. When you, Lord, command, then am I released from myself. And he says:

Loving beloved, think of the hour when you took hold of the full discovery. Do not let the time grow long for you, for at every hour I have embraced you with my arms.

Then our Lord says to his chosen bride: Veni, dilecta mea, veni coronaberis.²⁵ Then he gives her a crown of truth, which none may wear save spiritual people. In this crown one sees four virtues: wisdom and care, longing and keeping. God grant us all the crown! Amen.

Here ends the first part of this book.

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