Letter 29

WHEN PONTIUS PAULINUS THE YOUNGER HAD STILL NOT ANSWERED A FOURTH LETTER, THIS WAS WRITTEN TO HIM: This fourth letter lays bare to you, Paulinus, the complaint you know well, and with coaxing words it provokes you in your idleness. But no page repays my loyal attention, inscribing auspicious openings upon greeting-bearing sheets. How has my luckless paper earned this rebuff, which your lingering inaction scorns with such great disdain? Yet enemy receives greeting from enemy, even in barbarous speech, and "Hail" passes between weapons in the thick of arms. The very rocks answer a man, and speech struck back from caverns returns; the woods' echoing image returns as well. The cliffs by the shore cry out, the streams give forth murmurs, the hedgerow cropped by the bees of Hybla [a Sicilian district famed for honey] whispers. There is musical melody too along the reed-grown banks, and the pine's foliage talks with its winds whenever the light eastern breeze [Eurus] presses upon the sharp-pointed leaves; the songs of Dindymus answer the grove of Gargara [two peaks of Mount Ida]. Nature gave nothing voiceless: neither the bird of the air nor the four-footed beasts are silent; the serpent too has its own hissing, and the creature of the sea pants with a thin substitute for a voice. Cymbals give sound at the clash, the stages give it when struck by the leaping of feet, the hollow drums boom with their stretched hides; the Mareotic [Egyptian] sistra stir up the tumults of Isis, nor does the ringing of the bronze of Dodona [its oracular cauldrons] fall silent, as often as the basins, struck by the beating rods, dutifully answer with rhythmic blow. But you, as though you dwelt silent in Oebalian Amyclae [a Spartan town proverbial for silence], or as though the Egyptian Sigalion [god of silence] sealed your lips, hold your tongue in your stubbornness, Paulinus. I recognize your shame: this very ceaseless inaction nurses its own fault, and while you are ashamed of having been silent so long, it pleases you not to keep up the exchange of courtesies; long idleness comes to love its own guilt. Who forbids you to write "Hail" and "Farewell" with ready brevity and to commit happy greetings to your sheets? I do not demand that your page weave out lengthy verses and load your tablets with manifold discourse. There was but a single letter by which the Spartans made reply, and in their refusal they pleased an angry king. For terseness is indeed courteous: so, report tells, the reborn Pythagoras taught, when, as babblers strung together many things in ambiguous words, he alone answered everything with "It is so" or "It is not." O sure rule of speaking! For nothing is shorter and fuller than these words, which by affirming approve, or by denying strike down. No one ever pleased by silence; many have pleased by brevity of speech. But where am I being carried, who just now spoke so spaciously, like a fool? How much a fault differs from itself, yet stands so near its opposite! Speaking much and keeping wholly silent, neither of us pleases. Nor can I hold my peace, for free affection never bears the yoke, nor loves to set truth behind flattering words. Have you, sweetest Paulinus, changed your character? Do the glades of the Vascones [the Basques] and the snowy lodgings of the Pyrenees do this, and the forgetting of our sky? What curse should I not justly call down upon you, land of Iberia! May the Carthaginians plunder you, may treacherous Hannibal burn you, may the exile Sertorius seek you out again as the seat of war. Shall Bilbilis then, or Calagurris clinging to its crags, or shall Ilerda - parched, looking down over its rugged ridges among toppled ruins upon the rushing Sicoris [the river Segre] - possess the glory of myself and of my country, the pillar of the Senate? Is it here, Paulinus, that you set up your consular robe and your Latin curule chair, and is it there that you will bury your ancestral honors? Yet who is that impious man who urged upon you so long a silence? May he turn no voice to any use, may no joys quicken him, no sweet songs of poets, no winding melody of seductive lament; may no wild beast, no flocks, no bird soothe him, nor Echo, who hidden in the woodland groves of shepherds consoles us by answering back our words. Sad and destitute, let him haunt the wastes and silently wander the regions joined to the Alpine ridges - as once, they say, Bellerophon, bereft of his mind and shunning the gatherings and the footsteps of men, ranged in his wandering through pathless places. This I pray, this cry, Boeotian deities, you Muses, receive, and call back the bard to the Latin Camenae [the Roman Muses].

THIS is the fourth letter in which I have laid bare to thee, Paulinus, my familiar complaint, and with caressing words sought to stir thee from thy lethargy. But never a page comes to repay my loving attentions, no propitious words writ at the head of sheets which bring me greeting.5 How has my luckless letter, for which your long neglect shows such disdain, deserved this rebuff? Yet foe from foe receives greeting 6 in savage speech and hail comes between opposed arms. Even rocks make answer to mankind and speech beating back from caves returns, returns too the vocal mimicry of the woods; cliffs by the sea-shore cry out, streams utter their murmurs, the hedges, whereon bees of Hybla feed,1 are ever whispering. Reed-grown banks also have their tuneful harmonies, and the pine's foliage in trembling accents talks with its beloved winds. So oft as the light eastern breeze leans on the shrill-voiced leaves, strains of Dindymus respond to the grove of Gargara. 2 Nature made nothing dumb. Birds of the air and four-footed beasts are not mute, even the serpent has its own hissing note, and the herds of the deep sigh with faint semblance of a voice. Cymbals give sound at a clash, stages at beat of bounding feet, the taut skins of hollow drums give back a booming; Mareotie 3 sistra raise rattling din in Isis' honour nor does Dodona's brazen tinkling cease as oft as the lavers at the clappers' measured stroke obediently reply with rhythmic beat.1 2,; Thou, as though thou wert a mute citizen of Oebalian Amyclae,5 or Egyptian Sigalion 6 were sealing thy lips, stubbornly keepest silence, Paulinus. I recognise shame in thee, for continued negligence cherishes her own defeet, and in shame for long silenee thou dost resolve not to maintain interchange of courtesies; and lengthened idleness loves its own fault. Who forbids you to write hail and farewell with studied brevity, and to commit to paper these words of greeting? I do not demand that thy page should weave a long drawn out web of verse and burden thy letter with a multitude of words. Twas but one letter wherewith the Spartans made reply and, though refusing, pleased the angry king.1 For indeed terseness is courteous; so, report says, taught reborn Pythagoras.2 While babblers would be stringing indecisive words, in all cases he would answer only Yes or No. O stable rule of speech! For nothing is shorter and more adequate than these, which approve the valid or reject the invalid. None pleased by silence; many by brief reply. 45"But I, whither with foolish amplitude of speech have I been long careering? How distant from itself and yet how near is error! I with long speech, thou with utter silence, we both displease. Yet can not keep silence, for free affection never bears yoke, nor loves to screen truth with glozing words. Hast thou, dearest Paulinus, changed thy nature? Do Biscayan glades and sojourns in the snowy Pyrenees and doth forgetfulness of our clime work thus? What curse shall I not righteously call down on thee, O land of Spain? May Carthaginians ravage thee, may faithless Hannibal waste thee with fire, may banished Sertorius again seek in thee the seat of war! Shall then Birbilis or Calagorris clinging to its crags, or parched Ilcrda3 whose ruins, littered over rugged hills, look down on brawling Sicoris, possess him who is mine and his country's pride, the mainstay of the Senate? Here dost thou, Paulinus, establish thy robe consular and Roman curule chair, and wilt thou bury there thy native honours? But who is that unhallowed wretch who has urged you to so long silence? May he turn no sound to any advantage, may no joys enliven him, no sweet poets' lays, no melting harmonies of seductive elegy, may no cry of beast nor low of cattle nor song of bird cheer him, nor yet Echo, who hidden in shepherds' bosky groves consoles us while repeating our complaints. Sad, needy let him dwell in waste places and in silence roam the borders of Alpine hills, even as, 'tis said, in days of old Beller-ophon, distraught, avoided the company of men and wandered straying through untrodden places.1 This is my prayer, this cry, Boeotian Muses divine, receive ye and with Latin strains call back your bard!

CUM PONTIUS PAULINUS IUNIOR QUARTIS IAM LITTERIS NON RESPONDISSET SIC AD EUM SCRIPTUM EST quarta tibi haec notos detexit epistula questus, Pauline, et blando residem sermone lacessit. officium set nulla pium mihi pagina reddit, fausta salutigeris adscribens orsa libellis, unde istam meruit non felix charta repulsam, spernit tam longo cessatio quam tua fastu? hostis ab hoste tamen per barbara verba salutem accipit et Salve mediis intervenit armis, respondent et saxa homini et percussus ab antris sermo redit, redit et nemorum vocalis imago; litorei clamant scopuli, dant murmura rivi, Hyblacis apibus saepes depasta susurrat. est et harundineis modulatio musica ripis cumque suis loquitur tremulum coma pinea ventis, incubuit foliis quotiens levis curus acutis, Dindyma Gargarico respondent cantica luco. nil inlitum natura dedit, non aeris ales quadrupedesve silent, habet et sua sibila serpens, et pecus aequoreum tenui vice vocis anhelat. cymbala dant flictu sonitum, dant pulpita saltu icta pedum, tentis reboant cava tympana tergis; Isiacos agitant Mareotica sistra tumultus nec Dodonaci cessat tinnitus aeni, in numerum quotiens radiis ferientibus ictae respondent dociles modulato verbere pelves. Tu velut Oebaliis habites taciturnus Amyclis aut tua Sigalion Aegyptius oscula signet, obnixum, Pauline, taces, agnosco pudorem, quod vitium fovet ipsa suum cessatio iugis, dumque pudet tacuisse diu, placet officiorum non servare vices; et amant longa otia culpam, quis prohibet Salve atque Vale brevitate parata scribere felicesque notas mandare libellis? non ego, longinquos ut texat pagina versus, postulo multiplicique oneret sermone tabellas. una fuit tantum, qua respondere Lacones littera, et irato regi placuere negantes, est etenim comis brevitas: sic fama renatum Pythagoram docuisse refert, cum multa loquaces ambiguis sererent verbis, contra omnia solum Est, respondebat, vel Non. o certa loquendi regula! nam brevius nihil est et plenius istis, quae firmata probant aut infirmata relidunt. nemo silens placuit, multi brevitate loquendi. Verum ego quo stulte dudum spatiosa locutus provehor? ut diversa sibi vicinaque culpa est! multa loquens et cuncta silens non ambo placemus. nec possum reticere, iugum quod libera numquam fert pietas nec amat blandis postponere verum, vertisti, Pauline, tuos dulcissime mores? Vasconis hoc saltus et ninguida Pyrenaei hospitia et nostri facit hoc oblivio caeli? inprecer ex merito quid non tibi, Hiberia tellus! te populent Poeni, te perfidus Hannibal urat, te belli sedem repetat Sertorius exul. ergo meum patriaeque decus columenque senati Birbilis aut haerens scopulis Calagorris habebit, aut quae deiectis iuga per seruposa ruinis arida torrentem Sicorim despectat Hilerda? hic trabeam, Pauline, tuam Latiamque curulem constituis, patriosque istic sepelibis honores? Quis tamen iste tibi tam longa silentia suasit impius? ut nullos hie vocem vertat in usus, gaudia non illum vegetent, non dulcia vatum carmina, non blandae modulatio flexa querellae, non fera, non illum peeudes, non mulceat ales, non quae pastorum nemoralibus abdita lueis solatur nostras Eeho resecuta loquellas. tristis, egens deserta eolat tacitusque pererret Alpinis conexa iugis, eeu dicitur olim mentis inops coetus hominum et vestigia vitans avia perlustrasse vagus loca Bellerophontes. Haec preeor, hanc vocem, Boeotia numina M usae, accipite et Latiis vatem revocate eamenis.