26. A. Peace, I pray thee, peace. Why tormentest thou me? Why diggest thou so remorselessly and descendest so deep? Now I weep intolerably, henceforth I promise nothing, I presume nothing; question me not concerning these things. Most true is what thou sayest, that He whom I burn to see Himself knows when I am in health; let Him do what pleaseth Him: when it pleaseth Him let Him show Himself; I now commit myself wholly to His clemency and care. Once for all do I believe that those so affected towards Him He faileth not to lift up. I will pronounce nothing concerning my health, except when I shall have seen that Beauty. R. Do nothing else, indeed. But now refrain from tears, and gird up thy mind. Thou hast wept. most sore, and to the great aggravation of that trouble of thy breast. A. Wouldest thou set a measure to my tears, when I see no measure of my misery? or dost thou bid me consider the disease of my body, when I in my inmost self am wasted away with pining consumption? But, I pray thee, if thou availest aught over me, essay to lead me through some shorter ways, so that, at least by some neighbor nearness of that Light, such as, if I have made any advance whatever, I shall be able to endure, I may be made ashamed of withdrawing my eyes into that darkness which I have left; if indeed I can be said to have left a darkness which yet dares to daily with my blindness.
27. R. Let us conclude, if you will, this first volume, that in a second we may attempt some such way as may commodiously offer itself. For this disposition of yours must not fail to be cherished by reasonable exercise. A. I will in no wise suffer this volume to be ended, unless thou open to me at least a gleam from the nearness of that Light whither I am bound. R. Thy Divine Physician yields so far to thy wish. For a certain radiance seizes me, inviting me to conduct thee to it. Therefore be intent to receive it. A. Lead, I entreat thee, and snatch me away whither thou wilt. R. Thou art sure that thou art minded to know the soul, and God? A. That is all my desire. R. Nothing more? A. Nothing at all. R. What, do you not wish to comprehend Truth? A. As if I could know these things except through her. R. Therefore she first is to be known, through whom these things can be known. A. I refuse not. R. First then let us see this, whether, as Truth and True are two words, you hold that by these two words two things are signified, or one thing. A. Two things, I hold. For, as Chastity is one thing, and that which is chaste, another, and many things in this manner; so I believe that Truth is one thing, and that which, being declared, is true, is another. R. Which of these two do you esteem most excellent? A. Truth, as I believe. For it is not from that which is chaste that Chastity arises, but that which is chaste from Chastity. So also, if anything is true, it is assuredly from Truth that it is true.
28. R. What? When a chaste person dies, do you judge that Chastity dies also? A. By no means. R. Then, when anything perishes that is true, Truth perishes not. A. But how should anything true perish? For I see not. R. I marvel that you ask that question: do we not see thousands of things perish before our eyes? Unless perchance you think this tree, either to be a tree, but not a true one, or if so to be unable to perish. For even if you believe not your senses, and are capable of answering, that you are wholly ignorant whether it is a tree; yet this, I believe, you will not deny, that it is a true tree, if it is a tree: for this judgment is not of the senses, but of the intelligence. For if it is a false tree, it is not a tree; but if it is a tree, it cannot but be a true one. A. This I allow. R. Then as to the other proposition; do you not concede that a tree is of such a sort of things, as that it originates and perishes? A. I cannot deny it. R. It is concluded therefore, that something which is true perishes. A. I do not dispute it. R. What follows? Does it not seem to thee that when true things perish Truth does not perish, as Chastity dies not when a chaste person dies? A. I now grant this too, and eagerly wait to see what thou art laboring to show. R. Therefore attend. A. I am all attention.
29. R. Does this proposition seem to you to be true: Whatever is, is compelled to be somewhere? A. Nothing so entirely wins my consent. R. And you confess that Truth is? A. I confess it. R. Then we must needs inquire where it is; for it is not in a place, unless perchance you think there is something else in a place than a body, or think that Truth is a body. A. I think neither of these things. R. Where then do you believe her to be? For she is not nowhere, whom we have granted to be. A. If I knew where she was, perchance I should seek nothing more. R. At least you are able to know where she is not? A. If thou pass in review the places, perchance I shall be. R. It is not, assuredly, in mortal things. For whatever is, cannot abide in anything, if that does not abide in which it is: and that Truth abides, even though true things perish, has just been conceded. Truth, therefore, is not in mortal things. But Truth is, and is not nowhere. There are therefore things immortal. And nothing is true in which Truth is not. It results therefore that nothing is true, except those things which are immortal. And every false tree is not a tree, and false wood is not wood, and false silver is not silver, and everything whatever which is false, is not. Now everything which is not true, is false. Nothing therefore is rightly said to be, except things immortal. Do you diligently consider this little argument, lest there should be in it any point which you think impossible to concede. For if it is sound, we have almost accomplished our whole business, which in the other book will perchance appear more plainly.
30. A. I thank thee much, and will diligently and cautiously review these things in my own mind, and moreover with thee, when we are in quiet, if no darkness interfere, and, which I vehemently dread, inspire in me delight in itself. R. Steadfastly believe in God, and commit thyself wholly to Him as much as thou canst. Be not willing to be as it were thine own and in thine own control; but profess thyself to be the bondman of that most clement and most profitable Lord. For so will He not desist from lifting thee to Himself, and will suffer nothing to occur to thee, except what shall profit thee, even though thou know it not. A. I hear, I believe, and as much as I can I yield compliance; and most intently do I offer a prayer for this very thing, that I may have the utmost power, unless perchance thou desirest something more of me. R. It is well meanwhile, thou wilt do afterwards what He Himself, being now seen, shall require of thee.