Yet, foul and unclean as I was, I still craved, in excessive
vanity, to be thought elegant and urbane. And I did fall
precipitately into the love I was longing for. My God, my mercy,
with how much bitterness didst thou, out of thy infinite goodness,
flavor that sweetness for me! For I was not only beloved but also
I secretly reached the climax of enjoyment; and yet I was joyfully
bound with troublesome tics, so that I could be scourged with the
burning iron rods of jealousy, suspicion, fear, anger, and strife.
CHAPTER II
2. Stage plays also captivated me, with their sights full of
the images of my own miseries: fuel for my own fire. Now, why
does a man like to be made sad by viewing doleful and tragic
scenes, which he himself could not by any means endure? Yet, as a
spectator, he wishes to experience from them a sense of grief, and
in this very sense of grief his pleasure consists. What is this
but wretched madness? For a man is more affected by these actions
the more he is spuriously involved in these affections. Now, if
he should suffer them in his own person, it is the custom to call
this "misery.
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