Letters151 Letter CLI. To Philip, the intruded archbishop of Tours.l (A.D. 1133)
Letter CLI. To Philip, the intruded archbishop of Tours.l (A.D. 1133)
He expresses the great grief he felt that Philip should attempt to gain the Archbishopric of Tours by illegitimate means.
I am grieved for you, my dear Philip, but I beseech you mock not at my grief. For if by any chance you think that there is no cause for grief, then you are the more to be grieved for. Whatever you may think about yourself, for my part I think that a fount of tears is insufficient to lament for you. My grief is not one that calls for ridicule, but for compassion; for it is not a grief for flesh and blood, not for the loss of things that perish, but for you yourself, Philip. I cannot better describe the greatness of my grief than by saying that Philip is the cause of it. And when I say this, I declare the great lamentation of the Church, who once cherished you in her bosom, as a lily springing up, adorned with every celestial gift. Who, then, was there that did not loudly proclaim you to be a youth of good hope, a young man of good disposition? But, alas! the fair promise has disappeared. From what hope has France, who bore and nourished you, fallen! O, did you but know! But if you would apply your heart unto wisdom, you would also learn to grieve, and your grief would prevent mine from being sterile. I should go on if I were to give way to my feelings, but I do not wish to say much while in uncertainty, or to tight as one that beats the air. But I have written this that you may know my affection for you, and may learn that I am near you, if perchance God should inspire you with a desire for a conference, and if you should be willing to grant me what I greatly long for, an interview. I am at Viterbo, and I hear that you are staying at Rome. Vouchsafe to write back to me to say how you receive this letter of mine, that I may know what I ought to do, whether I am to grieve more or less. But if you despise everything, and will hi no way listen to me, I for my part shall not lose the fruit of my letter, for it proceeds from charity; but you will have to give an answer for your contempt before the dread tribunal.
Doleo super te, Philippe charissime: sed quaeso te ne rideas dolorem meum; nam si tibi minime videris forsitan esse dolendus, ideo magis dolendus. Tu videris quid de te sentias: ego te arbitror omni lacrymarum fonte plangendum. Dolor meus non est dignus subsannatione, sed compassione: quia dolor meus non est de carne et sanguine; non de amissione rerum periturarum, sed de te, o Philippe! Non potui expressius demonstrare magnitudinem causae doloris: Philippus est in causa. Cum hoc dico, gravem Ecclesiae pronuntio luctum, quae te aliquando suo gremio confovebat, germinantem sicut lilium, florentem donis coelestibus. Quis tunc temporis non clamabat, bonae spei juvenem, bonae indolis adolescentem? Sed heu! mutatus est color optimus. A quanta spe decidit Francia quae te genuit et nutrivit! O si cognovisses et tu! (Luc. XIX, 42.) Tu, inquam, si apponeres scientiam, apponeres et dolorem, et dolor tuus faceret ne noster omnium esset infructuosus. Procederem si sequerer spiritum meum: sed nolo proferre plurima in incertum, et esse quasi aerem verberans. Sed haec scripsi, ut nostrum utcumque erga te affectum cognosceres, et ut nos scires esse in proximo, si forte Deus inspiraret tibi nostrum curare colloquium, et optatam nobis tui velles exhibere praesentiam. Sumus enim Viterbii, et te morari in Urbe audivimus. Dignare rescribere nobis quidquid illud sit quod de his litteris nostris corde conceperis, ut sciamus quid faciendum sit nobis, plus videlicet minusve dolendum. Quod si omnia contemnis, et in nullo nos audis, ego quidem fructum non perdam litterarum, quae ex charitate procedunt; sed tu de contemptu ante tribunal terrificum respondebis.