From: Libanius, rhetorician in Antioch
To: Modestus
Date: ~359 AD
Context: A nuanced letter defending an accused man and praising the judge handling the case.
Don't worry -- you won't be deceived, and Eupeithius won't turn out to be a villain. I wrote this letter not to warn you to pay attention or to beg you to acquit a guilty man. Let me explain what I feel in cases like this.
Whenever I see a sycophant fall upon a decent man like a flash flood, my soul aches. I sometimes even weep, and I'm eager to help however I can. What I can do is write letters -- and that's what I'm doing now.
So let me say to a good judge: Metrodorus may have been fairly judged an impostor, but Eupeithius was unfairly thrown in along with him -- driven by anger rather than evidence when the charge was added.
Here's the proof: after the investigation of Metrodorus was already underway, the anger against Eupeithius surfaced as an afterthought, and a charge was tacked on that was so significant it would have come first if it weren't fabricated.
The accuser will pay the price; the accused will go free -- I'm sure of it. As for the judge who brought them both before him, I've always praised his character, and I can hardly express how much I admire him now. He conducted himself not as someone about to hand over the accused, but as someone determined to protect them...
**To Modestus** (359/60)
It is not because I fear you will be led astray, nor because Eupeithius will prove to be a scoundrel, that I have written this letter — as though I were advising you to pay attention, or begging you to release someone already convicted. But let me describe my feelings in such matters.
Whenever I learn that a sycophant has fallen upon a decent man like a winter torrent, my soul aches, I shed tears, and I am eager to do whatever I can to help. What I can do is write letters — which is what I am doing now.
And so I say to a good governor: Eupeithius, in judging Metrodorus a dissembler, perhaps justly attacked him, but was carried toward the charge unjustly, by sheer anger rather than by any hope of proof.
Here is the evidence: after the matters concerning that man had already been examined, Eupeithius later recalled his grudge against this one too, and tacked on an accusation so enormous that, had it not been a fabrication, it would have appeared first among the charges.
But the prosecutor will pay the penalty for these things, and the defendant will come through safely — of that I am certain. As for the man escorting them both, whose character I have always praised, I could not begin to say how much I admired him on this occasion.
For as though he were not delivering up the prisoners but were himself about to stand trial, he approached me and begged me to write something favorable about him, "so that," he said, "I might take heart." "And what," I asked, "is troubling you?" "Nothing serious," he said, "but all the same, I would like the gaze of the noble Modestus to be made gentle toward me."
This persuaded me to make mention of Eusebius, and I trust it will also persuade you to look kindly upon a man of guileless disposition.
Context:A nuanced letter defending an accused man and praising the judge handling the case.
Don't worry -- you won't be deceived, and Eupeithius won't turn out to be a villain. I wrote this letter not to warn you to pay attention or to beg you to acquit a guilty man. Let me explain what I feel in cases like this.
Whenever I see a sycophant fall upon a decent man like a flash flood, my soul aches. I sometimes even weep, and I'm eager to help however I can. What I can do is write letters -- and that's what I'm doing now.
So let me say to a good judge: Metrodorus may have been fairly judged an impostor, but Eupeithius was unfairly thrown in along with him -- driven by anger rather than evidence when the charge was added.
Here's the proof: after the investigation of Metrodorus was already underway, the anger against Eupeithius surfaced as an afterthought, and a charge was tacked on that was so significant it would have come first if it weren't fabricated.
The accuser will pay the price; the accused will go free -- I'm sure of it. As for the judge who brought them both before him, I've always praised his character, and I can hardly express how much I admire him now. He conducted himself not as someone about to hand over the accused, but as someone determined to protect them...
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.