Considering the way a painter conducts his work, the urge has taken me to imitate him. He chooses the finest spot and middle of each wall to house a picture elaborated with all his skill, and the space all around it he fills with grotesques, which are fantastic paintings whose only charm lies in their variety and strangeness. And what else are these things here, in truth, but grotesques and monstrous bodies, pieced together from diverse limbs, without any fixed shape, having no order, sequence, or proportion other than accidental? In this he indeed follows the painter, but he does wrong in that the principal picture is too small, and the grotesques too large. And then, to tell the truth, this painting of mine is so poorly arranged that I do not know where to put the pieces that are to compose it. I ought to paint it whole, but I cannot, and am content to represent it at random, and as it presents itself. I do not paint being, I paint passing. And, to come to my subject, I say that the friendship of which I speak is a friendship so perfect and so entire that scarcely any like it is to be seen. It is not a common friendship, contracted by convention, by interest, by need, or by any other cause whatsoever. It is a friendship that is born, is nourished, is maintained, is fortified, and lasts with no other foundation than virtue, and with no other object than virtue. And, indeed, I know not how it came about that we sought one another out before we had seen each other, and by reports that we heard of one another, which made such an impression upon our souls that we embraced one another by our very names. And at our first meeting, which happened by chance at a great city feast and gathering, we found ourselves so taken, so known, so bound to one another, that nothing from then on was closer to us than each other. And, in truth, this friendship had no other cause than the likeness of our minds and humors. And, to speak more truly, it is not a friendship, it is a society, a confederation, a conjuration, a conspiracy of our wills, so united that we made but one. And in this union there was no superiority, no domination, no servitude, no constraint. Each was master and slave at once, but in a manner so gentle and so agreeable that liberty was safer than constraint. And as for speech, we had no need of it, because we understood one another without speaking. And as for action, we had no need of counsel, because we anticipated one another. And as for the will, we had no need of command, because we obeyed one another. And as for reason, we had no need of discourse, because we persuaded one another. In short, it was I know not what essence, and a friendship so perfect and entire that the soul of the one is lost in the other, and that the one cannot be found without the other. And if I am pressed to say why I loved him, I feel that this can only be expressed by answering: Because it was he, because it was I.