To Themistius. (359)
The wrongs being done to Cleobulus, who is my teacher and a friend to us both, and who is doing them -- he has explained all this in his own letter. He wrote it without much confidence; a certain hesitation kept entering his mind, and he repeatedly drew back from the page.
When I asked him where this anxiety came from and reminded him of your old familiarity and his just claims, he said he was well aware of all that. But he confessed that during your recent visit he had been somewhat negligent, and this made him fear that the old warmth had cooled. That was why he hesitated.
I laughed at his timidity. Could he really have spent so much time in your company and still so badly misjudge you as to think you would hold a grudge -- just because Cleobulus, amid his own preoccupations, had not attached himself to you during your stay?
After all, we ourselves do not get angry with him for preferring his own pleasures to our company, even though he lives nearby. He has been granted a special privilege: no one accuses him of laziness. By the same token we honor Palamedes [likely a mutual friend, given an indulgent nickname] by sparing the man who honors his memory.
So laugh, and the Cleobulus who is hesitant to approach you...
**To Themistius** (359 AD)
The wrongs done to Cleobulus — my teacher, and a friend to both you and me — and by whom they are done, he himself has made clear in what he wrote. Yet he wrote without much confidence; a certain hesitation crept into his mind, and many times he drew back from the letter.
When I asked him the cause of this reluctance, reminding him of your old familiarity and of those just claims, he said he knew all that well enough, but that during your stay he had been guilty of a certain negligence toward you, and because of this he believed that your former warmth had grown cooler — and so he hesitated.
I laughed at his timidity, and at the thought that after spending so long in your company he had so misjudged you as to imagine you would bear a grudge — if Cleobulus, unable to escape his own preoccupations, had failed to attach himself to you.
For not even I resort to anger against him when, living close by, he amuses himself rather than keeps my company. He has been granted this privilege: that no one may accuse him of his idleness. And by the same token we surely honor Palamedes too, sparing the man who honors what belongs to that hero.
So then, laugh it off yourself, and counting that accursed Severus — the man who drags Cleobulus into troubles — as your own enemy too, convince Cleobulus that even those of us who sit far away have the power to defend him from close at hand. For though you have charge of many affairs — since the city has many needs, and you are its guardian — count this too among the things that serve her interest: that wicked men be prevented from indulging their nature.
The wrongs being done to Cleobulus, who is my teacher and a friend to us both, and who is doing them -- he has explained all this in his own letter. He wrote it without much confidence; a certain hesitation kept entering his mind, and he repeatedly drew back from the page.
When I asked him where this anxiety came from and reminded him of your old familiarity and his just claims, he said he was well aware of all that. But he confessed that during your recent visit he had been somewhat negligent, and this made him fear that the old warmth had cooled. That was why he hesitated.
I laughed at his timidity. Could he really have spent so much time in your company and still so badly misjudge you as to think you would hold a grudge -- just because Cleobulus, amid his own preoccupations, had not attached himself to you during your stay?
After all, we ourselves do not get angry with him for preferring his own pleasures to our company, even though he lives nearby. He has been granted a special privilege: no one accuses him of laziness. By the same token we honor Palamedes [likely a mutual friend, given an indulgent nickname] by sparing the man who honors his memory.
So laugh, and the Cleobulus who is hesitant to approach you...
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.