A. I desire none of those meats which I have renounced; I desire those which I have thought right to eat, when I see them. What shall I say more either about meat, or drink, or baths, or riches, or honor, or any worldly lusts? Nor do I wish any more of these than I shall need to have for my bodily comfort and to keep my strength. Howbeit I need much more for the wants of those men which I must take care of, and moreover this I needs must have.
R. Thou art right. But I would know whether thy old covetousness and greediness be entirely extirpated and uprooted from thy mind, so that it can not still grow.
A. Why askest thou that?
R. I speak of the things which thou before saidst to me that thou hadst decided to leave off and for nothing would turn back to again, namely: overmuch wealth, and immoderate honor, and inordinately rich and luxurious living; and therefore I now ask whether, either for the love of them or for the love of any thing, thou wilt return to them again. I heard formerly that thou saidst that thou lovedst thy friends, next to God and thine own reason, above other things. Now I would know whether thou, for their love, wouldst lay hold of these things again.
A. I will lay hold of all again for their love, if I can not else have their companionship—yet it doth not please me so to do.
R. Very reasonably thou dost answer me and very rightly. Howbeit I understand that the lusts of the world are not entirely uprooted from thy mind, although the trench be prepared; for the roots can sprout thence again. Yet I impute that not to thee as a fault, for thou layest hold of it not for the love of those things but for the love of this thing which it is more right to love than that. I never ask about any man, what he doth; but yet I ask thee now why thou lovest thy friends so much, or what thou lovest in them, or whether thou lovest them for their own sake or for some other thing.
