I thought that all perishable beauty, which all goodness of creatures, all grace, all light, it would in my eyes but cold and weak reflection of the beauty, goodness, grace and eternal light, which flashes imagined glimpse into whose flames burn me feel pleasure in my heart. How flattered the spirit tempting me to make me fall! How cleverly deceived me! How blind confidence was mine at first! As skilful gardener, if you discover a plant underbrush noble, leads to your garden and the desire to grow with every vice contracted in the brush end, and that, thanks to your care thrive and give the plant so nice and fragrant flowers and delicious fruit, so I, to find the soul of this beautiful woman, full of conceit, I decided to improve it, beautify again, purify it from all defects and make it flourish and bear fruit abundantly in virtue, knowledge and perfection. This is what I suggested to clear hell, this is what I confess me only my own, but in the depths of my polluted mind other ideas bubbling, boiling other purposes, such as snake pit covered with herbs. Today it is me just praise God for the disappointment, and thanks to Don Jaime that, aside those herbs, has disturbed the snakes in her nest, and made me see them and feel them and try to throw off my chest, although this is necessary to make pieces.
“My God, my God, if you’re in my soul, if you have not abandoned my voice and comes to comfort me and forgive me. What is worth it, worth all its beauty, all the freshness of his youth, all the noble pride of her eyes, the whole rhythm of form, all the grace of their movements, if I am right back again my mind and will toward you, in whom there is no excellence, beauty and grace that is not encrypted and summarize?