Eidem.
PRiori illâ Epistola meâ non tam rescripsi tibi,
quam rescribendi vices deprecatus sum, alteram itaque brevi secuturam tacite promisi, in qua tibi me amicissime provocanti latius aliquanto responderem; verum ut id non essem pollicitus, hanc utcunque summo jure deberi tibi fatendum est, quandoquidem singulas ego literas tuas non nisi meis binis pensari posse existimem, aut si exactius agatur, ne centenis quidem meis. Negotium illud de quo scripsi subobscurius, ecce Tabellis hisce involutum, in quo ego, cum tua ad me pervenit Epistola, districtus temporis angustiâ, magno tum primùm opere desudabam: quidam enim Ædium nostrarum Socius, qui Comitiis his Academicis in Disputatione Philosophicâ responsurus erat, Carmina super quæstionibus pro more annuo componenda, prætervectus ipse jamdiu leviculas illiusmodi nugas, & rebus seriis intentior forte meæ Puerilitati commisit. Hæc quidem Typis donata ad te misi, utpote quem nôrim rerum Poeticarum judicem acerrimum, & mearum candidissimum. Quod si tua mihi vicissim communicare dignaberis, certe non erit qui magis iis delectetur,
erit, fateor, qui rectius pro eorum dignitate judicet. Equidem quoties recolo apud me tua mecum assidua pene colloquia (quæ vel ipsis Athenis, ipsâ in Academiâ, quæro, defideróque) cogito statim nec sine dolore, quanto fructu me mea fraudârit absentia, qui nunquam à te discessi sine manifesta Literarum accessione, & ’επιδ´οσει, plane quasi ad Emporium quoddam Eruditionis profectus. Sane apud nos, quod sciam, vix unus atque alter est, qui non Philologiæ, pariter & Philosophiæ, prope rudis & profanus, ad Theologiam devolet implumis; eam quoque leviter admodum attingere contentus, quantum forte sufficiat conciunculæ quoquo modo conglutinandæ, & tanquam tritis aliunde pannis consuendæ: adeo ut verendum sit ne sensim ingruat in Clerum nostrum sacerdotalis illa superioris sæculi Ignorantia. Atque ego profecto cum nullos fere studiorum consortes hic reperiam, Londinum rectà respicerem, nisi per justitium hoc æstivum in otium alte Literarium recedere cogitarem, & quasi Claustris Musarum delitescere. Quod cum jam tu indies facias, nefas esse propemodum existimo diutius in præsentia tibi interstrepere. Vale.
Cantabrigia, July 2. 1628.
To the Same. [Alexander Gill]
In my last letter I did not so much answer yours, as
excuse myself from answering, and so tacitly promise
to write another letter soon, to reply rather more fully
to your friendly challenge. But even apart from this
promise, I must admit that you have every right to
claim a letter, for I consider that every letter of yours
demands two of mine in return; or rather, to be more
accurate, it cannot be requited even by a hundred.
As to the composition of which I wrote with some
obscurity, I enclose it herewith. When your letter
arrived, I was very short of time, and had just begun to
work on it at high pressure. For a certain Fellow of our
College, who was to take part in a philosophical disputation at the last Commencement, being himself
already long past such frivolous trifles and occupied
with serious business, entrusted to my youthful efforts
the verses which have to be composed for the disputation in accordance with the annual custom. These have
been committed to print, and I have sent them to you,
knowing you to be a most acute judge of poetry in
general and a most fair one of mine in particular. If you
will be so kind as to send me yours in return, you will
certainly not find anyone to whom they would give
greater pleasure, though you might, I confess, find one
more fitted to do them justice.
Whenever I call to mind your almost constant conversations with me, the like of which I vainly seek even
in the very seat of learning, the University itself, I realize at once, to my sorrow, of how much profit my
absence deprives me. For I never quitted your company without some clear increase or crescendo of learning, just as if I had paid a visit to some mart of erudition.
At any rate, so far as I know, there are but one or two
among us who do not take their flight to theology before
ever they are fledged, almost untrained and uninitiated
in literature and philosophy alike. And even of theology
they are content with a mere smattering, if it be but
enough to enable them to piece together after a fashion
some little homily and patch it up as it were out of
scraps of other men's rags. So much so, that there is a
serious risk of our clergy gradually falling into the
popish ignorance of former ages.
As for myself, since I find here hardly any congenial
fellow students, I should turn my eyes straightway back
to London, if I were not planning this Long Vacation
to bury myself deep in literary retirement, and so to
speak take cover in the precincts of the Muses. As
this is your regular habit, I feel it to be little less than
impious to trouble your peace any longer at present.
And so farewell.
Cambridge, July 2nd, 1628.
Translation by Phyllis B. Tillyard
