Cyprian of Carthage, On the Lapsed 22
What good could you possibly think was in him—he who knew fear, yet whom not even fear could correct? What faith could you believe he had, when persecution itself failed to reform him? His neck, lofty and erect, refused to bend even when he fell. His soul, swollen with pride, refused to break even when he was conquered. Lying wounded among those who stand whole and unharmed, he marvels; and because he cannot immediately receive the Lord's body with polluted hands, or drink the Lord's blood with a polluted mouth, he rages sacrilegiously against the priests. Oh, your excessive, furious madness! You rage against the one who strives to turn God's anger away from you; you threaten the one who pleads for the Lord's mercy on your behalf, who feels your wound though you do not feel it yourself, who pours out tears for you that perhaps you yourself do not shed. You keep piling up the crime, heaping it higher; and when you yourself are unyielding toward the bishops and priests of God, do you really think the Lord can be placated toward you?
Latin
Quid de eo boni sentias, quem timorem fuisse apud eum, quam fidem credas quem corrigere nec metus potuit, quem persecutio ipsa non reformavit? Alta et erecta cervix nec quia cecidit inflexa est. Tumens animus et superbus nec quia victus est fractus est. Jacens stantibus et integris vulneratus miratur; et quod non statim Domini corpus inquinatis manibus accipiat, aut ore polluto Domini sanguinem bibat, sacerdotibus sacrilegus irascitur. Atque, o tuam nimiam, furiose, dementiam! Irasceris ei qui abs te avertere iram Dei nititur; ei minaris qui pro te Domini misericordiam deprecatur, qui vulnus tuum sentit quod ipse non sentis, qui pro te lacrymas fundit, quas forsitan ipse non fundis. Oneras adhuc crimen et cumulas; et cum sis ipse implacabilis ad antistites et sacerdotes Dei, putas circa te Dominum posse placari?