To Simplicius.
There is a proverb — "you are urging a willing runner" — that fits anyone asked to do what he would have done anyway without being asked. You may wonder where this is leading. The bearer of this letter earnestly begged me to let him carry a letter to you. But once I learned he was traveling your way, I would certainly have asked him even if he had kept silent — for this courtesy was prompted by my love for you rather than by any regard for the carrier. The man considers that he has earned a favor by granting one, since he received exactly what he asked for — though he has no idea of the bonds of friendship between us.
So although I am far away, I can easily imagine the sudden astonishment he will feel when, admitted graciously into your presence out of regard for me, he realizes that my letter was more idly requested than delivered. I can already picture the scene: for a man who is not exactly quick-witted, everything will be new. He will be invited — a stranger — into a home, nervous into a conversation, a rustic into merriment, a pauper to a table. And whereas among the common folk he normally keeps company with people reeking of onion-breath, he will find himself treated with such courtesy that he might as well have been belching among the gourmets of Apicius and the dinner-dancers of Byzantium his whole life.
Still, whatever sort of man he is, he has made me thoroughly content with the fulfillment of my longed-for duty. But though such carriers are generally rather contemptible, our love for absent friends suffers a real loss if we are kept from regular correspondence simply because of the low status of the available messengers. Farewell.
EPISTULA VII
Sidonius Simplicio suo salutem.
1. Solet dicere 'currentem mones' qui rogatur, ut faciat quod facturus fuerat etiam non rogatus. percontere forsitan, quo spectet ista praemitti. baiulus apicum sedulo precatur, ut ad vos a me litteras ferat, cuius a nobis itinere comperto id ipsum erat utique, si tacuisset, orandus; namque hoc officium vester potius amor quam geruli respectus elicuit. ceterum hic ipse beneficium se computat meruisse, qui praestitit, quamquam identidem quod poposcit acceperit, sed quae nobis amicitiarum iura minime agnoscens.
2. unde quamquam absens facile coniecto, quo repente stupore ferietur, cum intuitu nostri dignanter admissus intellexerit se paginam meam magis otiose flagitasse quam tradere. videre mihi videor, ut homini non usque ad invidiam perfaceto nova erunt omnia, cum invitabitur peregrinus ad domicilium, trepidus ad conloquium, rusticus ad laetitiam, pauper ad mensam, et cum apud crudos caeparumque crapulis esculentos hic agat vulgus, illic ea comitate tractabitur, ac si inter Apicios epulones et Byzantinos chironomuntas hucusque ructaverit.
3. attamen qualis ipse quantusque est, percopiose me officii votivi compotem fecit. sed quamquam huiuscemodi saepe personae despicabiles ferme sunt, in sodalibus tamen per litteras excolendis dispendii multum caritas sustinet, si ab usu frequentioris alloquii portitorum vilitate revocetur. vale.
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To Simplicius.
There is a proverb — "you are urging a willing runner" — that fits anyone asked to do what he would have done anyway without being asked. You may wonder where this is leading. The bearer of this letter earnestly begged me to let him carry a letter to you. But once I learned he was traveling your way, I would certainly have asked him even if he had kept silent — for this courtesy was prompted by my love for you rather than by any regard for the carrier. The man considers that he has earned a favor by granting one, since he received exactly what he asked for — though he has no idea of the bonds of friendship between us.
So although I am far away, I can easily imagine the sudden astonishment he will feel when, admitted graciously into your presence out of regard for me, he realizes that my letter was more idly requested than delivered. I can already picture the scene: for a man who is not exactly quick-witted, everything will be new. He will be invited — a stranger — into a home, nervous into a conversation, a rustic into merriment, a pauper to a table. And whereas among the common folk he normally keeps company with people reeking of onion-breath, he will find himself treated with such courtesy that he might as well have been belching among the gourmets of Apicius and the dinner-dancers of Byzantium his whole life.
Still, whatever sort of man he is, he has made me thoroughly content with the fulfillment of my longed-for duty. But though such carriers are generally rather contemptible, our love for absent friends suffers a real loss if we are kept from regular correspondence simply because of the low status of the available messengers. Farewell.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.