strive to console yourself, since we also, though suffering not a little, find the greatest consolation for our grief in the virtue of the man, B which I believe brings you also the greatest consolation. For if the one who departed had been some wicked man, and full of vice, one would need to lament and groan on his account; but since he has lived as all the city knows—with gentleness, with kindness, always honoring justice, using the proper freedom of speech, with independence, with courage, deeming present things as nothing, but having become a stranger to worldly concern—one must rejoice, and take pleasure both with him and with your Excellence, because you have sent ahead such a brother, henceforth in an inviolable treasury, having the good things which he possessed when he departed. Do not therefore deem anything unworthy of yourself, my most admirable lord, by being broken by grief, but show yourself even in this present time, and be entreated to signify to us that you have gained some further benefit also from our letters, so that we, sitting at such a distance, may take pride in having been able, by a mere letter, to cut away much of this despondency.
CXCVIII. To Hesychius.
What is this? Having loved us so vehemently (for you have not escaped us, since it is not possible for a fervent lover to escape the beloved), have you not deemed us worthy of letters, but have you endured to hold your love in silence? What then is the cause? I for my part have no way to say; but it would be yours, after breaking the silence, to also signify the reason for the silence. For it was for this reason that we even previously hastened to send letters to your Nobility, so that not even this path of retreat might be left to you. Write, then, C constantly to us, most reverend and noble lord, and fulfill our desire. For, having been once captured by mere rumor alone, and bound to your Nobility, we could not henceforth be silent ourselves, nor endure your silence; but we will provide you with a thousand troubles unless you send us constant and frequent letters, contriving by the frequency of your letters the pleasure [that comes] from your presence.
CXCIX. To Daniel the Presbyter.
Blessed be God, who provides consolation greater than the afflictions, and who gives you such patience that you even bear the accompanying sorrows with much joy. This is what truly doubles your reward, to both bear them, and to bear them with joy; this also provides us with much consolation, when we hear of your courage, your freedom of speech, the unswerving nature of your mind, your vigor, your patience, your endurance, your zeal more fervent than fire. For these reasons, even being in a wilderness, D and beset by the fear of brigands, we find the consolation of your fortitude, and of the freedom with which you speak, and of the constancy, patience, and zeal of your minds.