Letter 9002: Item ad Chilpericum et Fredegundem reginam

To Chilperic and Queen Fredegund — A Consolation A harsh condition and the irrevocable lot of the hour! What the sad origin gave to the human race — when the persuading serpent poured its venom from its mouth, and the death from the serpent's bite was sinful Eve: from father Adam himself the earth then took its sorrow, and the groaning world receives its bitterness from its mother. Transgressing, both are condemned with bitter reproach: he suffers by toil, she groans in childbearing. Death came from there, devouring, passed on to their own descendants, and the harmful origin carries off its own heirs. Look — this sad crime our parents begot for us: from where it first began, every race falls. First Abel fell, slain by a pitiful wound, and a brother's hoe dug his brother's limbs. After him Seth died too, restored in Abel's place, and though he came back, he was not without end. What shall I mention of Noah, praised by the Thunderer's voice? Whom the light ark carried, now the heavy earth presses. So too Shem and Japheth, the most righteous offspring — the holy progeny ran the same course. What of the patriarch Abraham, or Isaac, or worthy Jacob, when no one stands free from the law of death? Melchizedek too, the priest made sacred by the Lord's mouth, Job too and his children — so they departed. The lawgiver himself, Moses, lies down, and Aaron the priest, and the worthy friend of God's colloquies perishes. His successor Joshua, the renowned leader of the people — the fathers you read of in books lay down in death. What of Gideon, Samson, or whoever in the order of judges? No one escapes death under the Lord as judge. The mighty Israelite David, king and prophet, is buried in the tomb with his Solomon. Isaiah, Daniel, Samuel, and blessed Jonah — living under the sea, now he stands pressed by the earth. Peter, prince by the key, Paul, first in doctrine — however lofty their souls, earth covers their bodies. The one held greater than any born of human seed, the powerful Baptist John himself — he too dies. Enoch and Elijah — these two still await this: whoever is born of a human being is also destined to die. The Creator himself, Christ, rising joyfully from the shadows — because he was born here as man, he was buried in flesh in the earth. Who, I ask, does not die, when salvation itself tasted death? When my own Life chose to die for me? Tell me — what can emperors or the heights of kings do, when the limbs of the Creator lay upon the rocks? Arms do not hold back the strong, nor purple the kings: whatever man comes from dust, dust he shall be. We are born equal and we all die equally: one death comes from Adam, one salvation from Christ. The reward is varied, but the funeral is one for all: infants, young men — so you too shall die, old men. What then do we do about this, I ask you, lofty power, when we can be no help to the matter? We weep, we groan, but we cannot avail: mourning is before the eyes, but there is no fruit of help. The bowels are twisted, the heart is torn by tumult; dear ones are extinguished, eyes fall in weeping. Love is called but the loved one is no longer called back; the one whom the sunken rock covers no longer seeks us. Though we cry out, deaf death flees and does not hear, nor knows how to return to a tender feeling. But, willing or not, I shall migrate with all to that place: we shall all go from here; no one returns from there — until at the Lord's coming the dead flesh may live, and from its own dust a man may rise again, when moist skin begins to cover the dry ashes and living cinders leap from the tombs. We shall all go, then, to be placed in another region; we shall go to the homeland — we whom a foreign land holds. Do not torture yourself, therefore, holy king, strongest prince, that your children go where every person goes. As it pleases the potter, so the clay vessel is shaped; when it pleases the potter, the broken vessels fall. What the Almighty commands, we cannot resist — at whose glance the stars and earth tremble. He himself creates humankind: what can we say? He who gave also takes back: he commits no crime. Look — we are his handiwork, and from him the spirit comes: when he commands, we who are his work go hence. If he wishes, in an hour he changes mountains, seas, and stars — whose own works serve him: what can a man, a smoke, do? I beg you then, powerful king: do what profits you most, what profits the soul with the help of the Godhead. Be a manly ornament; patiently conquer your sorrows: what cannot be avoided, let the burden at least be borne. What we take on by being born, without this no one passes through: what no one changes, let it at least be borne with reason. Take counsel for the queen your lady, the loved and loving one, who takes all good things with you by her side. Bid the grieving maternal affection be calmed, and neither weep yourself nor allow her tears. While you reign as her husband, it does not befit her to be sad, but rather let her rejoice, lifted up by your marriage-bed. I beg this too, wishing a full life for your wife: take counsel for your daughter, take counsel for your homeland. The people will be such as all see you to be, and from your face the populace will reap its prayers. And finally: Job, losing seven children in one sad blow, brought back praises to God from his mouth. David the psalmist, when he lost his beloved son, straightaway set him in the tomb and gave a festive dinner. The twice-blessed woman, the pious mother of the Maccabees, carried seven sons in one funeral, rejoicing, readily saying to the Lord: "Always glory to you, Ruler; when you will, highest Father, the mother has her pledges." Whence let thanks be given rather to our God, who from your offspring causes one to go to heaven, and picks beautiful gems from the world's dung, and from the midst of mud leads them to the starry throne. Your harvest pleased God, which he stores in his granaries while he gathers sweet grain from the tender ears. You do not produce chaff but whole wheat, not to be burned on the fire but to be restored in heaven — especially those who, pure by holy baptism, merited to be snatched hence, made new by the washing font. Standing before God like golden vessels of beauty, or like a beautiful lamp shining on candelabras — spotless souls, always radiant in honor, they hold their place in the land of the living, planted in the house of the Lord, they bloom in light, white lilies mingled with red roses. And when the Lord commands the buried limbs to return, then a beautiful robe will clothe your children, or a palm-embroidered cloak woven under ruddy gold, and their foreheads will bear a diadem of varied gems; wearing a snow-white mantle over their bright breasts, a gleaming belt binds the purple toga. Then, father and mother, you will rejoice among them, when you see them among the starry company. But the Almighty who multiplied the seed of Abraham will give to you what he gave to Job in love, restoring the number of children with worthy offspring, and will bring back your line with ennobling faith. He who gave Solomon's birth to the throne of David, when the son returns to the father in place of the brother — he will be able to give you a son from your wife, for a father to play with and a mother to nurse at the breast, who, crawling between you over the necks of his parents, may prepare long joys for the kings and the homeland.

II Item ad Chilpericum et Fredegundem reginam Aspera condicio et sors inrevocabilis horae! quod generi humano tristis origo dedit, cum suadens coluber proiecit ab ore venenum, morsu et serpentis mors fuit Eva nocens: sumpsit ab ipso ex tunc Adam patre terra dolorem, et de matre gemens mundus amara capit. praevaricando duo probro damnantur acerbo: ille labore dolet, haec generando gemit. mors venit inde vorax, transmissa nepotibus ipsis, heredesque suos tollit origo nocens. ecce hoc triste nefas nobis genuere parentes: coeperat unde prius, hinc ruit omne genus. primus Abel cecidit miserando vulnere caesus, ac fraterna sibi sarcula membra fodent. post quoque Seth obiit, sub Abel vice redditus isdem, et quamvis rediit, non sine fine fuit. quid Noe memorem, laudatum voce Tonantis? quem levis arca tulit, nunc gravis arva premit. sic quoque Sem et Iafeth, iustissima denique proles sancta et progenies tale cucurrit iter. quid patriarcha Abraham vel Isac, Iacob quoque dignus, cum de lege necis nemo solutus adest? Melchisedech etiam, domini sacer ore sacerdos, Iob quoque seu geniti sic abiere sui. legifer ipse iacet Moyses Aaronque sacerdos, alloquiisque dei dignus amicus obit. successorque suus, populi dux inclitus Iesus, quos legitis libris occubuere patres, quid Gedeon, Samson vel quisquis in ordine iudex? morti sub domino iudice nemo fugit. Israhelita potens David rex atque propheta est situs in tumulo cum Salomone suo. Esaias Danihel Samuel Ionasque beatus, vivens sub pelago, stat modo pressus humo. princeps clave Petrus, primus quoque dogmate Paulus, quamvis celsae animae, corpora terra tegit. semine ab humano cui nullus maior habetur, vir baptista potens ipse Iohannes obit. Enoch Heliasque hoc adhuc spectat uterque: qui satus ex homine est et moriturus erit. ipse creator ovans surgens cito Christus ab umbris, hic quia natus homo est, carne sepultus humo. quis, rogo, non moritur, mortem gustante salute? dum pro me voluit hic mea vita mori? dic mihi, quid poterunt Augusti aut culmina regum, membra creatoris cum iacuere petris? brachia non retrahunt fortes neque purpura reges, vir quicumque venit pulvere, pulvis erit. nascimur aequales morimurque aequaliter omnes: una ex Adam est mors, Christus et una salus. diversa est merces, funus tamen omnibus unum: infantes, iuvenes, sic moriere senes. ergo quid hinc facimus nunc te rogo, celsa potestas, cum nihil auxilii possumus esse rei? ploramus, gemimus, sed nec prodesse valemus: luctus adest oculis, est neque fructus opis. viscera torquentur, lacerantur corda tumultu; sunt cari extincti, flendo cadunt oculi. ecce vocatur amor neque iam revocatur amator, . nos neque iam repetit quem petra mersa tegit. quamvis clamantem refugit mors surda nec audit, nec seit in affectum dura redire pium. sed, nolo atque volo, migrabo cum omnibus illuc; ibimus hinc omnes, nemo nec inde redit: donec [ad] adventum domini caro mortua vivat, surgat et ex proprio pulvere rursus homo, coeperit ut tegere arentes cutis uda favillas et vivi cineres de tumulis salient. ibimus ergo omnes alia regione locandi, ibimus ad patriam quos peregrina tenent. ne cruciere igitur, pie rex, fortissime princeps, quod geniti pergunt quo petit omnis homo. quale placet figulo vas fictile, tale paratur; quando placet figulo, vasa soluta ruunt. quod iubet omnipotens, non possumus esse rebelies, cuius ad intuitum sidera terra tremunt. ipse creat hominem: quid dicere possumus? idem qui dedit et recipit: crimina nulla gerit. illius ecce sumus figmentum et spiritus inde est: cum iubet, hinc imus qui sumus eius opus. si libet, in hora montes freta sidera mutat cui sua facta favent: quid homo fumus agit? rex precor ergo potens, age quod tibi, maxime, prosit, quod prodest animae cum deitatis ope: esto virile decus, patienter vince dolores: quod non vitatur, vel toleretur onus. quod trahimus nascendo, sine hoc non transigit ullus: quod nemo inmutat, vel ratione ferat. consuleas dominae reginae et amantis amatae, quae bona cuncta capit te sociante sibi; maternum affectum placare iubeto dolentem, nec simul ipse fleas nec lacrimare sinas. te regnante viro tristem illam non decet esse, sed magis ex vestro gaudeat alta toro. deprecor hoc etiam, vitam amplam coniugis optans, consuleas genitae, consuleas patriae. talis erit populus qualem te viderit omnis, deque tua facie plebs sua vota metet. denique Iob natos septem uno triste sub ictu amittens laudes rettulit ore deo. David psalmographus genitum cum amisit amatum, mox tumulo posuit, prandia festa dedit. femina bis felix pia mater Machabeorum natos septem uno funerc laeta tulit, prompta aiens domino: 'semper tibi gloria, rector, cum vis, summe pater, pignora mater habet', unde deo potius referatur gratia nostro, germine de vestro qui facit ire polo, eligit et gemmas de mundi stercore pulchras de medioque luto ducit ad astra throno. messis vestra deo placuit, quam in horrea condit dum spicis teneris dulcia grana metat. non paleas generas, frumenta sed integra gignis, nec recremanda focis, sed recreanda polis: praesertim qui sic sancto baptismate puri hinc meruere rapi, fonte lavante novi. stantes ante deum velut aurea vasa decoris aut quasi candelabris pulchra lucerna nitens, inmaculatae animae, radiantes semper honore, vivorum retinent in regione locum inque domo domini plantati lumine vernant, candida ceu rubeis lilia mixta rosis. iusserit et dominus cum membra redire sepulta, vestibit genitos tunc stola pulchra tuos aut palmata chlamys rutilo contexta sub auro, et variis gemmis frons diadema geret; utentes niveam per candida pectora pallam, purpureamque togam fulgida zona ligat. tunc pater et genetrix mediis gaudebitis illis, cum inter sidereos cernitis esse viros. est tamen omnipotens, Abrahae qui semen adauxit, vobis atque dabit Iob quod amore dedit, restituens numerum natorum germine digno, progeniemque refert nobilitante fide. qui in solium David Salomonis contulit ortum, pro vice germani cum redit ipse patri, ille tibi potent de coniuge reddere natum, cui pater adludat, ubere mater alat, qui medius vestri reptans per colla parentum regibus et patriae gaudia longa paret.