Carolo Diodato.
JAm istuc demum plane video te agere, ut obstinato silentio nos aliquando pervincas; quod si ita
est, euge habe tibi istam gloriolam, en scribimus priores: quanquam certe si unquam hæc res in contentionem
veniret, cur neuter alteri οὕτω
διά χρόνου
scripserit, cave putes quin sim ego multis partibus excusatior futurus: δηλον ‘οτι ὡς βραδ`ης κα`ι οκνηρός τις ὤν φύσει πρός τ`ο γράφειν, ut probi nôsti, cum tu contra sive naturâ, sive consuetudine, ad hujusmodi Literarias προσφωνήσεις haud ægre perduci soleas. Simul &
illud pro me facit, quod tuam studendi rationem ita institutam cognovi, ut crebro interspires, ad amicos
visas, multa scribas, nonnunquam iter facias; meum
sic est ingenium, nulla ut mora, nulla quies, nulla ferme illius rei cura, aut cogitatio distineat, quoad
pervadam quo feror, & grandem aliquam studiorum meorum quasi periodum consiciam. Atque hinc omnino, nec aliunde, sodes, est factum, uti ad officia
quidem ultro deferenda spissius accedam, ad respondendum tamen, O noster Theodote non sum adeo cessator; neque enim commisi ut tuam Epistolam unquam ullam debitâ vice nostra alia ne clauserit.
Quid! quod tu, ut audio, Literas ad Bibliopolam, ad Fratrem etiam sæpiuscule; quorum utervis propter
vicinitatem satis commode præstitisset, mihi, si quæ essent, reddendas. Illud vero queror, te, cum esses
pollicitus ad nos fore ut diverteres cum ex urbe discederes, promissis non stetisse; quæ promissa abs te
præterita si vel semel cogitasses, non desuisset prope
necessarium scribendi argumentum. Atque hæc habui quæ in te merito, ut mihi videor, declamitarem.
Tu quæ ad hæc contra parabis ipse videris. Verum
interim quid est quæso? recténe vales? ecquinam iis in locis erudituli sunt quibuscum libenter esse, & garrire possis, ut nos consuevimus? quando redis?
quamdiu tibi in animo est apud istos ‘υπερβορε´ιους commorari? tu velim ad hæc mihi singula respondeas:
sed enim ne nescias non nunc demum res tuæ cordi
mihi sunt, nam sic habeto me ineunte autumno ex
itinere ad fratrem tuum eo consilio deflexisse, ut quid ageres, scirem. Nuper etiam cum mihi temere Londini perlatum esset à nescio quo te in urbe esse, confestim & quasi αὐτοβοε`ι proripui me ad cellam tuam, at illud σκ´ιας ὄναρ, nusquam enim compares. Quare quod sine tuo incommodo fiat, advola ocyus & aliquo in loco te siste, qui locus mitiorem spem præbeat, posse quoquo modo fieri ut aliquoties inter nos saltem visamus, quod utinam nobis non aliter esses vicinus, rusticanus atque es urbicus, ἀλλ`α το˜υτο ὥσπερ θε˜ω φίλον. Plura vellem & de nobis, & de studiis nostris, sed mallem coram; & jam cras sumus rus illud nostrum redituri, urgetque iter, ut vix hæc propere in chartam conjecerim. Vale.
Londino, Septemb. 2. 1637.
To Charles Diodati.
At last I see what you are driving at—to get the
better of me by obstinate silence. If so, very well,
enjoy your little triumph; I am the first to write,
as you see. All the same, if ever the question arises between us why neither has written to the other for so
long, you may well find that I have far the better excuse. For I am by nature backward and slow to write, as you well know, while you, on the contrary, are always ready, either by nature or by habit, to engage in epistolary conversation of this kind. This too is on my side, that your method of study is, as I know, such as to allow of frequent breathing-spaces, visits to friends, a good deal of writing and not infrequent journeys; while my own disposition is such that no delay, no rest, no thought or care for anything else, can divert me from my purpose, until I reach my goal and complete some great cycle of my studies. This is the one and only reason, I beg you to believe, why I am reluctant to enter into any voluntary engagements; but I am not so dilatory in replying to favors received, my good Diodati; and I have never failed to repay any letter of yours by one of mine when it was due.
What am I to say of your having written to your bookseller, and frequently to your brother, as I hear? Either of these, as they live so near, would readily have undertaken to forward letters to me, had there been any.
But my chief complaint is that you broke the promise
you made to pay me a visit on leaving town. If you had
even once thought of your failure to carry out this
promise you would have had an excellent reason for
writing.
These are grounds enough, I think, for a formal
accusation against you; the defense is your affair.
But meanwhile, what is the cause of your silence?
Are you in good health? Are there any budding
scholars in your part of the world whose society and talk
you can enjoy as we used to do each other's? When do
you return? How long do you intend to stay among
those Hyperboreans? Please answer each one of my questions; but be sure that the interest I take in your affairs
is nothing new, for you must know that early in the
autumn, when I was on a journey, I went out of my way
to see your brother, on purpose to find out how you
were. Besides, not long ago, happening to hear in
London from someone or other that you were in town,
I rushed off post-haste, and, as I might say, as if by storm, to your lodgings; but it was all "the dream of a
shade," for you were nowhere to be found. Therefore,
if you can conveniently do so, come quickly, and settle
in some place which may at least give better hope of our being able to pay occasional visits to each other: I only wish you could be as near a neighbour to us in the
country as you are in town—but be that as God wills.
I have much more to say to you about myself and
about my studies, but would rather tell you in person; and tomorrow I am due to return to my
country home, and I am on the point of starting for the
journey, so that I have barely time to scribble this note to you. Farewell.
London, September 2nd, 1637.
Translation by Phyllis B. Tillyard
