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 Thou wast scourged. It was I who had wrought iniquity; it was I who in so many ways and so often had offended; it was Thou Who hadst done no wrong at all, Who wast unjustly condemned by the ungodly. I often laugh about nothing, and Thou by base men art made a laughing-stock. I like to strut in fine clothes, but Thou hangest naked between thieves. I have good food and drink; but to Thee upon the Altar of the Cross are offered bitter gall and vinegar. I have a soft bed to sleep upon; but Thou art buried as an outlaw in a tomb of hardest rock. Often do I pass Thy Cross without shedding- a tear; but Mary Magdalene and the other holy women never ceased to weep till they saw Thee rising from the dead, and could fall low and clasp Thy sacred Feet.

Give me grace, O loving Jesus, to meditate on these things, and with holy Mary Magdalene, who loved Thee so well, and with Thy other disciples so to weep, that at the last day, when the trumpet shall sound, I may be found worthy to rise in glory, and to find a place with Thine elect in the Kingdom of everlasting bliss. Amen.

May Thy most glorious escutcheon, O Lord Jesus Christ, be my sure defence, both within and without, against all the darts of the enemy, and against all the flatteries and frowns of this deceitful world.