Dorn's fountain is doing something specific that the pneumatic tradition almost never permits: it runs downward, toward the body, not away from it. Every other fountain in the Western inheritance — Ficino's solar fountain, the Neoplatonists' emanation, even much of Jung's later language about the Self — flows from above and draws the soul up. This one draws the mind down to drink with the body, and the peace promised is not transcendence but the peace of enemies who have stopped fighting. That is a structurally different outcome.

What makes the passage hard to sit with is that it frames body-hunger as vain appetite to be restrained, and yet restraint is not the telos — union is. The ascetic grammar is in service of something the ascetic tradition never actually wanted: a body that remains present in the wholeness, not sublimated out of it. Dorn's "one man of mind and body" is not a spiritualized body; it is a body that has been met. The alchemical insistence on matter — sulfur, salt, the *corpus* as genuine third — keeps catching on precisely this hook: that any framework promising relief from the body's claims is offering a solution to the wrong problem. The fountain does not eliminate thirst. It changes what you are thirsty for.