What concern do we restless ones have with hell, for that which can remain still over fire is not true mercury.

The poet plays brilliantly with the nature of mercury, a metal so inherently restless that the moment it touches fire, it instantly leaps away or vaporizes rather than sitting still. Restless souls and ardent lovers share this very nature; their inner turmoil and longing are already far more intense than any external torment. If a flame could force someone to stay put and suffer quietly, they were never truly mercury to begin with—meaning Hell's fires hold no terror for those whose spirits are already a blaze of restlessness.