Letter 47: Chrysostom playfully accepts Namaia's letter but complains that it came late.

Why are you going around looking for an apology and asking pardon for things for which we crown and proclaim you? We gladly accept that you wrote. What we have grounds to complain about is that you wrote late and slowly. So if you think writing was a daring act, put that aside and practice your apology for the charge of delay. Compose that defense. The more you say you loved us genuinely, both present and absent, the more you increase the accusation. If you were merely one of those well disposed toward us, a long silence would not be so strange. But you said you showed us such genuine and fervent love that, if illness had not prevented you, you would not have refused to come along this harsh road besieged by the fear of so many robbers. Only one defense remains: send us storms of letters able to console us for the reason behind your long silence. Do this, and we have received everything. Since this letter, though late, breathed fervent love, it paid the debt for the time past. But let the rest of your letters not imitate its lateness. This one will show that it was late not through hesitation but through empty fear, as you yourself said, if the rest come to us quickly and often.

ΜΖʹ. Ναμαίᾳ. Τί περιέρχῃ ἀπολογίαν ζητοῦσα, καὶ συγγνώμην αἰτοῦσα ὑπὲρ ὧν ἡμεῖς σε στεφανοῦμεν καὶ ἀνακηρύττομεν, ὅτι μὲν ἔγραψας, ἀποδεχόμενοι, ὅτι δὲ ὀψὲ καὶ βραδέως, ἐγκαλεῖν ἔχοντες; Ὥστε εἰ νομίζεις μεγάλα τετολμηκέναι τῷ γράψαι, τοῦτο ἀφεῖσα πρὸς τὸ ἔγκλημα τῆς βραδύτητος μελέτα, καὶ συντίθει τὴν ἀπολογίαν. Καὶ γὰρ ὅσῳπερ ἂν λέγῃς καὶ παρόντας καὶ ἁπόντας ἠγαπηκέναι γνησίως, τοσούτῳ μειζόνως αὔξεις τὴν κατηγορίαν. Εἰ μὲν γὰρ ἁπλῶς τῶν περὶ ἡμᾶς διακειμένων ἦσθα, οὐδὲν ἀπεικὸς μακρὸν χρόνον οὕτω σιγῆσαι· ἐπειδὴ δὲ οὕτω γνησίαν καὶ θερμὴν περὶ ἡμᾶς ἐπιδεδεῖχθαι ἀγάπην ἔφης, ὡς μηδὲ ἂν ἐλθεῖν παραιτήσεσθαι ὁδὸν οὕτω χαλεπὴν, καὶ φόβῳ λῃστῶν τοσούτων πολιορκουμένην, εἰ μὴ τὰ τῆς ἀῤῥωστίας διέκοπτεν, ἕν σοι λοιπὸν ἀπολογίας λείπεται εἶδος, τὸ νιφάδας ἡμῖν πέμπειν γραμμάτων, δυναμένων τὴν ἐκ τῆς μακρᾶς σιγῆς παραμυθήσασθαι αἰτίαν. Τοῦτο δὲ ποίει, καὶ τὸ πᾶν ἀπειλήφαμεν. Ἐπειδὴ καὶ αὕτη χρονία ἐλθοῦσα ἡ ἐπιστολὴ, ἐπειδὴ θερμῆς ἔπνει τῆς ἀγάπης, καὶ τοῦ παρελθόντος χρόνου τὸ χρέος ἀπέτισεν. Πλὴν ἀλλ' αἱ λοιπαὶ μὴ μιμείσθωσαν τὴν ταύτης βραδυτῆτα. Οὕτω γὰρ καὶ αὕτη δυνήσεται δεῖξαι ὅτι οὐ δι' ὄκνον, ἀλλὰ διὰ δέος μάταιον, καθὼς καὶ αὐτὴ ἔφης, χρονία παραγέγονεν, εἰ αἱ λοιπαὶ μετὰ τάχους καὶ πολλῆς παραγένοιντο τῆς συνεχείας ἡμῖν.