Me before Pilate with every kind of ignominy, they accused Me
falsely, they adjudged Me worthy of death. Before Herod I, the
Eternal Wisdom, was mocked in a bright robe. My fair body was
miserably torn and rent by cruel scourgings. They surrounded My
sacred head with a crown of thorns; My gracious face was covered
with blood and spittings. When they had thus condemned Me to death,
they led Me out with My cross to bear the last shameful punishment.
Their terrible and savage cries could be heard afar off: "Crucify,
crucify, the wicked man."

Servitor. Alas, Lord, if so bitter were the beginnings of Thy
passion, what will be the end thereof? In truth, if I saw a brute
beast so treated in my presence I could hardly bear it. What grief
then should I feel in heart and soul at Thy Passion? And yet there
is one thing at which I marvel greatly. For I long, O my most dear
God, to know only Thy Godhead; and Thou tellest me of Thy humanity.
I long to taste Thy sweetness, and Thou showest me Thy bitterness.
What meaneth this, O my Lord God?

Wisdom. No man can come to the height of My Godhead, nor attain to
that unknown sweetness, unless he be first led through the
bitterness of My humanity. My humanity is the road by which men must
travel. My Passion is the gate, through which they must enter. Away
then with thy cowardice of heart, and come to Me prepared for a hard
campaign. For it is not right for the servant to live softly and
delicately, while his Lord is fighting bravely. Come, I will now put
on thee My own armour. And so thou must thyself also experience the
whole of My Passion, so far as thy strength permits. Take,
therefore, the heart of a man; for be sure that thou wilt have to
endure many deaths, before thou canst put thy nature under the yoke.