I cannot have remained in this tortured state for more than three months; it seemed impossible that anyone could bear so many ills together. I am amazed at myself now, and think of the patience which His Majesty gave me as a great mercy, for it clearly came from the Lord. It was a great help to my patience that I had read the story of Job in the Morals of St Gregory, which the Lord seems to have used to prepare me for this suffering. The life of Teresa of Avila by herself ' That Teresa of Avila should have suffered, both physically and spiritually, comes as no surprise to a modern audience. We expect her, indeed, to have played upon her vulnerability in recounting both her relationship with the divine and with her human friends and adversaries. A generation of work on female religious experience in the pre-industrial West has taught us that women often seek authority for their religious experience precisely, and paradoxically, by stressing their weakness.2 What Teresa reminds us, however, is that the rhetoric of suffering was derived not only from a lexicon of frail womanhood: it was possible to appeal to the Fathers of the Church specifically, to Gregory the Great and Augustine of Hippo3 as paragons of vulnerability.