Sidonius to his lord, Bishop Megethius.
I deliberated long and hard, even though my spirit was stirred by affection and the eagerness to comply, over whether I should send you the little formal pieces I composed, as you requested. In the end, the view that I ought to obey you won out. So I have sent what you asked for — and what shall we say now? Is this great obedience? I think it is. But it is an even greater impudence. For with this kind of brazenness, we could send water to rivers and timber to forests. With this kind of audacity, we could present Apelles with a paintbrush, Phidias with a chisel, and Polyclitus with a hammer.
So you will forgive the presumption, holy, eloquent, and venerable bishop — a presumption that chatters away at your most learned judgment with its native garrulity. It is our custom and our way: though we publish little, we scribble much. It is much the same with dogs — even when they do not bark, they still growl. Please remember me in your prayers, my lord bishop.
EPISTULA III
Sidonius domino papae Megethio salutem.
1. Diu multumque deliberavi, quamquam mihi animus affectu studioque parendi sollicitaretur, an destinarem, sicuti iniungis, contestatiunculas, quas ipse dictavi. Vicit ad ultimum sententia, quae tibi obsequendum definiebat. igitur petita transmisi: et quid modo dicemus? grandisne haec oboedientia? puto, grandis est: grandior impudentia tamen. hac enim fronte possemus fluminibus aquas, silvis ligna transmittere; hac [enim] temeritate Apellen peniculo, caelo Phidian, malleo Polyclitum muneraremur.
2. dabis ergo veniam praesumptioni, papa sancte facunde venerabilis, quae doctissimo examini tuo naturali garrulitate deblaterat. habet consuetudo nostra pro ritu, ut etsi pauca edit, multa conscribat, veluti est canibus innatum, ut, etsi non latrant, tamen hirriant. memor nostri esse dignare, domine papa.
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Sidonius to his lord, Bishop Megethius.
I deliberated long and hard, even though my spirit was stirred by affection and the eagerness to comply, over whether I should send you the little formal pieces I composed, as you requested. In the end, the view that I ought to obey you won out. So I have sent what you asked for — and what shall we say now? Is this great obedience? I think it is. But it is an even greater impudence. For with this kind of brazenness, we could send water to rivers and timber to forests. With this kind of audacity, we could present Apelles with a paintbrush, Phidias with a chisel, and Polyclitus with a hammer.
So you will forgive the presumption, holy, eloquent, and venerable bishop — a presumption that chatters away at your most learned judgment with its native garrulity. It is our custom and our way: though we publish little, we scribble much. It is much the same with dogs — even when they do not bark, they still growl. Please remember me in your prayers, my lord bishop.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.