LETTER XXIV
Sidonius to his dear Turnus, greetings.
1. How fittingly the words of the Mantuan poet apply to your name and your situation:
"Turnus, what no god would have dared to promise the hopeful,
see -- the turning of days has brought unbidden."
Your father Turpio, a man of tribunician rank, some time ago -- if you recall -- borrowed a sum of money from Maximus the Palatine official, pledging nothing in the way of security or collateral, neither silver nor the bond of his estates. But as the signed agreement shows, interest at twelve percent was stipulated for the lender, and this, compounded over a decade, brought the sum owed to double the principal.
2. But when your father, as death drew near and disease pressed harder, began to succumb, and the public authority began to compel the ailing head of household more forcibly to reform his debt, and the importunity of the collectors could not be endured, your father -- already in despair -- wrote to me as I was setting out for Toulouse, commanding me by letter to request of your creditor at least a modest extension. I promptly agreed to his pleas, since between Maximus and me there were bonds not merely of acquaintance but of longstanding hospitality. And so I gladly turned aside from my route to visit my friend, although his villa lay not a few miles from the public road.
3. When I arrived, I was met by the man himself, whom I had previously known as upright in body, brisk in step, free in speech, and generous in countenance -- now much changed from his former self. His dress was devout, his gait modest, his complexion and conversation those of a religious man; his hair was short, his beard long; there were tripods and stools, Cilician curtains hanging at the doors, a bed with no feather, a table with no purple, a hospitality gracious though frugal, with not so much abundance of meat as of vegetables -- and if the food was at all rich, he indulged not himself but his guests.
4. When we rose from table, I privately inquired of those standing by which of the three orders of life he had taken up -- whether he was living as a monk, a cleric, or a penitent. They said he had recently been bound, despite his protests, by the duty of the priesthood, which the partisan love of his fellow citizens had imposed upon a reluctant man. The next day, while servants and dependents busied themselves with hunting, I sought an opportunity for a private conversation. He granted it. I embraced the unsuspecting man and first confirmed my congratulations for the eminence of his new station; then I wove in the prayers that followed.
5. I laid before him the requests on behalf of our friend Turpio, pleading his necessities, lamenting his desperate circumstances -- which seemed all the harder to his grieving friends because a man in bondage to debt was being released by death from his body. I begged him therefore to remember his new profession and his old friendship, and to moderate the barbarous pressure of his howling collectors by granting at least a temporary extension. If the sick man should die, let him give the heirs the respite of a year of mourning, free from demands. And if -- as I prayed -- Turpio should recover his former health, let him give the exhausted man the leisure to convalesce.
6. I was still pleading when suddenly this man of charity began to weep copiously -- not over the delay of the debt but over the danger to the debtor. Choking back his sobs, he said: "God forbid that I, now a cleric, should demand these things from a sick man, which I would scarcely have demanded as a soldier from a healthy one. And I love his children so much that even if the worst should happen to our friend, I shall demand nothing more from them than the terms of my duty allow. Therefore write to those who are anxious, and so that they may trust your letter more, join mine to it: whatever the outcome of his illness -- and I pray God it may be favorable for our brother -- I shall both extend the period of repayment by a full year and forgive the accumulated half that has accrued through the name of interest, content with the return of the simple principal alone."
7. For this I gave the greatest thanks to God and great thanks to my host, who loved his reputation as much as his conscience, affirming that the friend was sending ahead to heaven what he remitted to you, and was purchasing a heavenly kingdom by not selling earthly kindnesses. It remains, therefore, for you to ensure that the original sum at least is paid promptly at your initiative, and that you give enormous thanks also on behalf of those who, bound to you by kinship, may by reason of age be unable to comprehend the magnitude of the gift they have received.
8. There is no point in beginning to say: "I have co-heirs, the estate has not yet been divided; I have been treated more harshly than my fellow heirs; my brother and sister are still under guardianship; no husband has been found for my sister, no guardian for my brother, no surety for the guardian." All of which may be said, fairly enough, to creditors -- but to bad ones. When such a person holds the contract, who is willing to release half when he could demand the whole, if he then suffers delay, whatever he mercifully conceded he may justly reclaim on account of the injury. Farewell.
EPISTULA XXIV
Sidonius Turno suo salutem.
1. Bene nomini, bene negotio tuo congruit Mantuani illud:
Turne, quod optanti divum promittere nemo
auderet, volvenda dies en attulit ultro.
pecuniam pater tuus Turpio, vir tribunicius, mutuam pridem, si recordaris, a Maximo Palatino postulavit impetravitque, nil quidem loco fiduciae pignorisque vel argenti sequestrans vel obligans praediorum; sed, ut chirographo facto docetur, cauta centesima est faeneratori, quae per bilustre producta tempus modum sortis ad duplum adduxit.
2. sed cum pater tuus morti propinquae morbo incumbente succumberet atque ob hoc ipsum publica auctoritas male valentem patremfamilias violentius ad reformandum debitum artaret nec sustineri valeret improbitas executorum, proficiscenti mihi Tolosam iam desperatus litteris imperavit, ut me rogante creditor vester modicas saltim largiretur indutias. precibus orantis citus annui, quia cum Maximo mihi non notitiae solum verum et hospitii vetera iura. igitur ad amicum libens ex itinere perrexi, quamquam villa non paucis aggere a publico milibus abesset.
3. ut veni, occurrit mihi ipse, quem noveram anterius corpore erectum gressu expeditum, voce liberum facie liberalem, multum ab antiquo dissimilis incessu. habitus viro, gradus pudor, color sermo religiosus, tum coma brevis barba prolixa, tripodes sellae, Cilicum vela foribus appensa, lectus nil habens plumae, mensa nil purpurae, humanitas ipsa sic benigna quod frugi, nec ita carnibus abundans ut leguminibus; certe si quid in cibis unctius, non sibi sed hospitibus indulgens.
4. cum surgeremus, clam percontor adstantes, quod genus vitae de tribus arripuisset ordinibus, monachum ageret an clericum paenitentemve. dixerunt nuper impacto sacerdotio fungi, quo recusantem factiose ligasset civicus amor. luce revoluta, dum pueri clientesque capiendis animalibus occuparentur, secretae conlocutionis peto copiam. praestat: amplector nil opinantem gratularique me primum pro sui status apice confirmo, tum consequentes misceo preces.
5. Turpionis nostri rogata profero, allego necessitates, extrema deploro, quae duriora maerentibus amicis hinc viderentur, quod faenore ligatus corpore solveretur: meminisset ergo professionis novae, sodalitatis antiquae, exactorumque circumlatrantum barbaram instantiam indultis tantisper indutiis moderaretur; et, si decessisset aeger, tribueret heredibus annui luctus tempus immune; si, quod optarem, pristinam Turpio salutem recuperasset, indulgeret exhausto per otium facultatem convalescendi.
6. adhuc rogabam, cum repente vir caritatis flere granditer coepit non moram debiti sed periculum debitoris; frenatoque singultu: 'absit a me', inquit, 'ut haec reposcam clericus ab aegro, quae vix petissem miles a sospite. sed et liberos eius ita diligo, ut etiam, si quid adversum cesserit amico, nil sim ab his amplius postulaturus quam mei officii ratio permittit. quapropter scribe sollicitis quoque plus credant litteris tuis, meas iunge, quisquis ille fuerit languoris eventus, quem tamen fratri prosperum optamus, quod et annuum solutioni spatium prorogabo et superpositam medietatem, quae per usurae nomen accrevit, indulgeam, sola simpli restitutione contentus.'
7. egi ad haec gratias deo maximas, hospiti magnas, qui sic amaret tam suam famam quam conscientiam, confirmans amicum praemittere sibi quod dimitteret vobis, atque hinc superna regna mercari, quod beneficia terrena non venderet. ergo quod restat enitere, ut auctore te protinus saltim commodata summa solvatur, sic ut ingentes nihilominus gratias agas etiam nomine illorum, qui tibi germanitate coniuncti fors per aetatem sapere non possunt, quid muneris consequantur.
8. non est cur dicere incipias: 'habeo consortes necdum celebrata divisio est; avarius me constat esse tractatum quam coheredes; frater ac soror sub annis adhuc tutelaribus agunt; sorori necdum maritus, fratri necdum curator, curatori necdum satisdator inventus est.' quod quidem totum creditoribus bene, sed malis dicitur; at cum habet talis persona contractum, quae velit medium relaxare, cum totum possit exigere, si moram patitur, quicquid propter misericordiam concesserat pie, iuste reposcit propter iniuriam. vale.
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LETTER XXIV
Sidonius to his dear Turnus, greetings.
1. How fittingly the words of the Mantuan poet apply to your name and your situation:
"Turnus, what no god would have dared to promise the hopeful, see -- the turning of days has brought unbidden."
Your father Turpio, a man of tribunician rank, some time ago -- if you recall -- borrowed a sum of money from Maximus the Palatine official, pledging nothing in the way of security or collateral, neither silver nor the bond of his estates. But as the signed agreement shows, interest at twelve percent was stipulated for the lender, and this, compounded over a decade, brought the sum owed to double the principal.
2. But when your father, as death drew near and disease pressed harder, began to succumb, and the public authority began to compel the ailing head of household more forcibly to reform his debt, and the importunity of the collectors could not be endured, your father -- already in despair -- wrote to me as I was setting out for Toulouse, commanding me by letter to request of your creditor at least a modest extension. I promptly agreed to his pleas, since between Maximus and me there were bonds not merely of acquaintance but of longstanding hospitality. And so I gladly turned aside from my route to visit my friend, although his villa lay not a few miles from the public road.
3. When I arrived, I was met by the man himself, whom I had previously known as upright in body, brisk in step, free in speech, and generous in countenance -- now much changed from his former self. His dress was devout, his gait modest, his complexion and conversation those of a religious man; his hair was short, his beard long; there were tripods and stools, Cilician curtains hanging at the doors, a bed with no feather, a table with no purple, a hospitality gracious though frugal, with not so much abundance of meat as of vegetables -- and if the food was at all rich, he indulged not himself but his guests.
4. When we rose from table, I privately inquired of those standing by which of the three orders of life he had taken up -- whether he was living as a monk, a cleric, or a penitent. They said he had recently been bound, despite his protests, by the duty of the priesthood, which the partisan love of his fellow citizens had imposed upon a reluctant man. The next day, while servants and dependents busied themselves with hunting, I sought an opportunity for a private conversation. He granted it. I embraced the unsuspecting man and first confirmed my congratulations for the eminence of his new station; then I wove in the prayers that followed.
5. I laid before him the requests on behalf of our friend Turpio, pleading his necessities, lamenting his desperate circumstances -- which seemed all the harder to his grieving friends because a man in bondage to debt was being released by death from his body. I begged him therefore to remember his new profession and his old friendship, and to moderate the barbarous pressure of his howling collectors by granting at least a temporary extension. If the sick man should die, let him give the heirs the respite of a year of mourning, free from demands. And if -- as I prayed -- Turpio should recover his former health, let him give the exhausted man the leisure to convalesce.
6. I was still pleading when suddenly this man of charity began to weep copiously -- not over the delay of the debt but over the danger to the debtor. Choking back his sobs, he said: "God forbid that I, now a cleric, should demand these things from a sick man, which I would scarcely have demanded as a soldier from a healthy one. And I love his children so much that even if the worst should happen to our friend, I shall demand nothing more from them than the terms of my duty allow. Therefore write to those who are anxious, and so that they may trust your letter more, join mine to it: whatever the outcome of his illness -- and I pray God it may be favorable for our brother -- I shall both extend the period of repayment by a full year and forgive the accumulated half that has accrued through the name of interest, content with the return of the simple principal alone."
7. For this I gave the greatest thanks to God and great thanks to my host, who loved his reputation as much as his conscience, affirming that the friend was sending ahead to heaven what he remitted to you, and was purchasing a heavenly kingdom by not selling earthly kindnesses. It remains, therefore, for you to ensure that the original sum at least is paid promptly at your initiative, and that you give enormous thanks also on behalf of those who, bound to you by kinship, may by reason of age be unable to comprehend the magnitude of the gift they have received.
8. There is no point in beginning to say: "I have co-heirs, the estate has not yet been divided; I have been treated more harshly than my fellow heirs; my brother and sister are still under guardianship; no husband has been found for my sister, no guardian for my brother, no surety for the guardian." All of which may be said, fairly enough, to creditors -- but to bad ones. When such a person holds the contract, who is willing to release half when he could demand the whole, if he then suffers delay, whatever he mercifully conceded he may justly reclaim on account of the injury. Farewell.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.