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To Olympias.
HAVING risen from the very gates of death I address this letter
to the discreet lady; and I am very glad that thy servants have met me
just as I am anchoring at last in harbour. For had they met me when
I was still tossing on the open sea, and experiencing the cruel waves
of bodily sickness, it would not have been easy for me to deceive your
cautious spirit, by sending good tidings instead of sorrowful. For
the winter, which has become more than commonly severe, brought on a
storm of internal disorder even more distressing, and during the last
two months I have been no better than one dead, nay worse. For I
had just enough life to be sensible of the horrors which encircled me,
and day and dawn and noon were all one night to me as I spent all my
time closely confined to my bed, and in spite of endless contrivances
I could not shake off the pernicious effects of the cold; but although
I kept a fire burning, and endured a most unpleasant amount of smoke,
and remained cooped up in one chamber, covered with any quantity of
wraps, and not daring to set a foot outside the threshold I underwent
extreme sufferings, perpetual vomiting supervening on headache, loss
of appetite, and constant sleeplessness. Thus restlessly did I pass
through my long dark sea of troubles But not to distress thy mind by
dwelling upon my miseries, from all of them I am now relieved. For
as soon as spring approached, and a little change in the temperature
took place, all my troubles spontaneously vanished. Nevertheless I
still require great care as regards diet; therefore I put only a light
load on my stomach, so that it may be able to digest it easily. But
it has occasioned me no little concern to learn that my discreet
mistress was brought to the verge of death. Nevertheless in
consideration of my great affection, and anxiety, and solicitude for
your welfare I was relieved from this care, even before the arrival of
your letters, many persons having come from thence who brought me
tidings of your restoration to health.
And now I am exceedingly glad and delighted to hear, not only that
you have been released from your infirmity, but above all that you bear
the things which befall you so bravely, calling them all but an idle
tale; and, which is indeed a greater matter, that you have applied
this name even to your bodily infirmity, which is an evidence of a
robust spirit, rich in the fruit of courage. For not only to bear
misfortunes bravely-but to be actually insensible to them, to overlook
them, and with such little exertion to wreathe your brows with the
garland prize of patience, neither labouring, nor toiling, neither
feeling distress nor causing it to others, but as it were leaping and
dancing for joy all the while, this is indeed a proof of the most
finished philosophy. Therefore I rejoice, and leap for joy; I am
in a flutter of delight, I am insensible to my present loneliness,
and the other troubles which surround me, being cheered, and
brightened, and not a little proud on account of your greatness of
soul, and the repeated victories which you have won, and this, not
only for your own sake, but also for the sake of that large and
populous city, where you are like a tower, a haven, and a wall of
defence, speaking in the eloquent voice of example, and through your
sufferings instructing either sex to strip readily for these contests,
and descend into the lists with all courage, and cheerfully bear the
toils which such contests involve. And the wonder is that without
thrusting yourself into the forum, or occupying the public centres of
the city, but sitting all the while in a small house and confined
chamber you serve and anoint the combatants for the contest, and whilst
the sea is thus raging round you, and the billows are rising to a
crest, and crags and reefs, and rocky ledges and fierce monsters
appear on every side, and everything is shrouded in the most profound
darkness you,setting the sails of patience, float on with great
serenity, as if it was noonday, and calm weather, and a favourable
breeze wafting you on, and so far from being overwhelmed by this
grievous tempest are not even sprinkled by the spray; and very
naturally so; such is the force of virtue as a rudder. Now merchants
and pilots, and sailors and voyagers when they see clouds gathering
up, or fierce winds rushing down upon them, or the breakers seething
with an abundance of foam keep their vessels moored inside harbour; and
if they chance to be tempest-tossed in the open sea they do their
best, and devise every means to bring their ship to some anchorage, or
island or shore. But you, although such innumerable winds, and
fierce waves burst upon you together, and the sea is heaved up from its
very depths owing to the severity of the storm, and some are
submerged, others floating dead upon the water, others drifting naked
upon planks, you plunging into the mid ocean of calamities call all
these things an idle tale, sailing on with a favourable breeze in the
midst of the tempest; and naturally so; for pilots, even if they are
infinitely wise in that science, nevertheless have not skill sufficient
to withstand every kind of storm; consequently they often shrink from
doing battle with the waves. But the science which you have is
superior to every kind of storm--the power of a philosophic
soul--which is stronger than ten thousand armies, more powerful than
arms, and more secure than towers and bulwarks. For the arms, and
bulwarks, and towers which soldiers have, are serviceable for the
security of the body only, and this not always, nor in every way; but
there are times when all these resources are baffled, and leave those
who fly to them for refuge destitute of protection. But thy powers do
not repel the weapons of barbarians, nor the devices of hostile men,
nor any assaults and stratagems of that kind, but they have trampled
under foot the constraining forces of nature, put down their tyranny
and levelled their citadel. And whilst ceaselessly contending with
demons, you have won countless victories, yet have not received a
single blow, but stand unwounded in the midst of a storm of darts and
turn the spears which are hurled at you back upon those who discharge
them. Such is the wisdom of your art; by the sufferings which you
undergo you take vengeance on those who inflict them; by the plots of
which you are the subject you put your enemies to pain, possessing in
their malice the best foundation for the materials of fame. And you,
knowing these things well yourself, and having gained perception by
experience, naturally call them all an idle tale. For how, pray,
should you not call them by that name, possessing as you do a mortal
body, and yet despising death as if you were hastening to quit a
foreign country, and return to your own land; a chronic sufferer from
the most severe infirmity, and yet more cheerfully disposed than the
thriving and robust, not depressed by insults, nor elated by honours
and glory, the latter being a cause of infinite mischief to many who
after an illustrious career in the priesthood, and after reaching
extreme old age, and the most venerable hoar hairs, have fallen into
disgrace on this account, and become a common spectacle of derision for
those who wish to make merry. But you on the contrary, woman as you
are, clothed with a fragile body, and subject to these severe
attacks, have not only avoided falling into such a condition yourself,
but have prevented many others from so doing. They indeed before they
had advanced far in the contest, even at the very outset and starting
point, have been overthrown; whereas you, after having gone countless
times round the farther turning post, have won a prize in every
course, after playing your part in manifold kinds of wrestling and
combats. And very naturally so; for the wrestlings of virtue do not
depend upon age, or bodily strength, but only on the spirit and the
disposition. Thus women have been crowned victors, while men have
been upset; so also boys have been proclaimed conquerors. while aged
men have been put to shame. It is indeed always fitting to admire
those who pursue virtue, but especially when some are found to cling to
it at a time when many are deserting it. Therefore, my sweet lady,
you deserve superlative admiration, inasmuch as after so many men,
women, and aged persons who seemed to enjoy the greatest reputation
have been turned to flight, all lying prostrate before the eyes of the
world, and this not after a severe onslaught, nor any alarming muster
of the enemy's force, but overthrown before the encounter and worsted
before the struggle, you on the contrary after so many battles and such
large muster of the enemy are so far from being unstrung, or dismayed
by the number of your adversities, that you are all the more vigorous,
and the increase of the contest gives you an increase of strength. For
the recollection of what has been already achieved becomes the ground of
cheerfulness, and joy, and greater zeal. Therefore I rejoice, and
leap for joy; for I will not cease repeating this, and taking about
with me everywhere the material of my joy; so that although my
separation from you distresses you, yet you have this very great
consolation arising from your successful exploits; for I also who am
banished to so great a distance gain no small cheerfulness from this
cause,--I mean your courage.
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