LETTERS TO FLORENCE

The Florentines played with Catherine as history shows that subtle folk to

have played with more than one of the friends whose services they

accepted; the story of their dealings with her strongly recalls the

situation in Browning's _Luria_. Having been despatched ostensibly with

full powers as harbinger of the formal embassy to be sent later, Catherine

carried through her part of the negotiations with expedition, prudence and

entire success. It shows how such unconventional democracy and matter-of-

fact respect for spiritual values existed in the later middle ages, that

no one seems to have been surprised at the situation. Apparently it was

considered quite natural that a powerful republic should send as its

representative to the papal court a young woman, the daughter of simple

tradespeople, whose life had been quietly passed in her father's house.

Gregory bore himself to Catherine with compunctious deference. On the

third day after her arrival she spoke in full consistory, pleading the

cause of peace. The result she records in this letter: the Pope put the

whole matter in her hands. To the young Dominican were left the terms of

reconciliation between the two rival powers.

All now depended upon the arrival of the Florentine ambassadors; but these

gentlemen failed to appear, while Florence continued to pursue a

contumacious policy. The insult, alike to the Pope and to Catherine, was

obvious. Avignon jested, shrugged shoulders, finally sneered. Gregory

gently told Catherine the truth--that her friends had played her false.

Few more mortifying situations than that in which she found herself could

be conceived.

The spirited letter which follows was written ten days after her arrival.

She speaks, as usual, without reserve, but it is noteworthy that the

letter contains no word of personal reproof beyond the quiet statement:

"You might bring great shame and reproach upon me. For nothing but shame

and confusion could result if I told the Pope one thing and you another."

When at last the ambassadors arrived, they brought small comfort, for they

refused to confer with Catherine. In the second letter, written after they

had come to a personal friend in Florence, she tells the situation

frankly, and with dignity, but still with remarkable freedom from personal

bitterness. In this time of test, no lower element than sorrow for the

failure of her cause appears to have been present in her mind.

TO THE EIGHT OF WAR CHOSEN BY THE COMMUNE OF FLORENCE,

AT WHOSE INSTANCE THE SAINT WENT TO POPE GREGORY XI

In the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:

Dearest fathers and brothers in Christ Jesus: I Catherine, servant and

slave of the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood:

with desire to see you true sons, humble and obedient to your father in

such wise that you may never look back, but feel true grief and bitterness

over the wrong that you have done to your father. For if he who does wrong

does not rise in grief above the wrong he has done, he does not deserve to

receive mercy. I summon you to true humiliation of your hearts; not

looking back, but going forward, following up the holy resolutions which

you began to take, and growing stronger in them every day, if you wish to

be received in the arms of your father. As sons who have been dead, do you

ask for life; and I hope by the goodness of God that you shall have it, if

you are willing really to humble yourselves and to recognize your faults.

But I complain strongly of you, if it is true what is said in these parts,

that you have imposed a tax upon the clergy. If this is so, it is a very

great evil for two reasons. The first is that you are wronging God by it,

for you cannot do it with a good conscience. But it seems to me that you

are losing your conscience and everything good; it seems as if you cared

for nothing but transitory things of sense, that pass like the wind. Do

you not see that we are mortal, and must die, and know not when? Therefore

it is great folly to throw away the life of grace, and to bring death on

one's own self. I do not wish you to do so any more, for if you did you

would be turning back, and you know that it is not he who begins who

deserves glory, but he who perseveres to the end. So I tell you that you

would never reach an effective peace, unless by perseverance in humility,

no longer insulting or offending the ministers and priests of Holy Church.

This is the other thing that I was telling you was harmful and bad. For

beside the evil I spoke of that comes from wronging God, I tell you that

such action is ruin to your peace. For the Holy Father, if he knew it,

would conceive greater indignation against you.

That is what some of the cardinals have said, who are seeking and eagerly

desiring peace. Now, hearing this report, they say: "It doesn't seem true

that the Florentines want to have peace made; for if it were true, they

would beware of any least action that was against the will of the Holy

Father and the habits of Holy Church." I believe that sweet Christ on

earth himself may say these and like words, and he has excellent reason to

say them if he does.

I tell you, dearest fathers, and I beg you, not to choose to hinder the

grace of the Holy Spirit, which by no merits of yours He by His clemency

is disposed to give you. You might bring great shame and reproach upon me.

For nothing but shame and confusion could result if I told the Holy Father

one thing and you did another. I beg you that it may not be so any more.

Nay, do you exert yourselves to show in word and deed that you wish peace

and not war.

I have talked to the Holy Father. He heard me graciously, by God's

goodness and his own, showing that he had a warm love of peace; like a

good father, who does not consider so much the wrong the son has done to

him, as whether he has become humble, so that he may be shown full mercy.

What peculiar joy he felt my tongue could not tell. Having discussed with

him a good length of time, at the end of our talk he said that if your

case were as I presented it to him, he was ready to receive you as sons,

and to do what seemed best to me. I say no more here. It seems to me that

absolutely no other answer ought to be given to the Holy Father until your

ambassadors arrive. I marvel that they are not here yet. When they shall

have come, I shall talk to them, and then to the Holy Father, and as I

shall find things disposed I will write you. But you, with your taxes and

frivolities, are spoiling all that is sown. Do so no more, for the love of

Christ crucified and for your own profit. I say no more. Remain in the

holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.

Given in Avignon, the 28th day of June, 1376.

TO BUONACCORSO DI LAPO IN FLORENCE

WRITTEN WHEN THE SAINT WAS AT AVIGNON

In the Name of Jesus Christ crucified and of sweet Mary:

Dearest brother in Christ sweet Jesus: I Catherine, servant and slave of

the servants of Jesus Christ, write to you in His precious Blood: with

desire to see you and the others your lords, pacify your heart and soul in

His most sweet Blood, wherein all hate and warfare is quenched, and all

human pride is lowered. For in the Blood man sees God humbled to his own

level, assuming our humanity, which was opened and nailed and fastened on

the Cross, so that it flows from the wounds of the Body of Christ

crucified, and pours over us the Blood which is ministered to us by the

ministers of Holy Church. I beg you by the love of Christ crucified to

receive the treasure of the Blood given you by the Bride of Christ. Be

reconciled, be reconciled to her in the Blood; recognize your sins and

offences against her. For he who recognizes his sin, and shows that he

does so by his deeds, and humbles him, always receives mercy. But he who

shows repentance only in speech, and goes no further in works, never finds

it. I do not say this so much for you as for others who might fall into

this fault.

Oh me, oh me, dearest brother! I mourn over the methods which have

prevailed in asking the Holy Father for peace. For words have been more in

evidence than deeds. I say this because when I came yonder into the

presence of you and your lords, they seemed by their words to have

repented for their wrong, and to be willing to humble themselves and to

ask mercy from the Holy Father. And when I said to them: "See, gentlemen,

if you intend to show all possible humility in deed and speech, and wish

me to offer you like dead children to your father, I will take all the

trouble you wish in this matter, otherwise I will not go yonder," they

answered me that they were content. Alas, alas! dearest brothers, this was

the way and the door by which you ought to have entered, and there is no

other. Had this way been followed in deed as in word, you would have had

the most glorious peace that anyone ever gained. And I do not say this

without reason, for I know what the Holy Father's disposition was; but

since we began to leave that path, following the astute ways of the world,

doing differently from what our words had previously implied, the Holy

Father has had reason, not for peace, but for more disturbance. For when

your ambassadors came into these parts, they did not hold to the right way

which the servants of God indicated to them. You went on in your own ways.

And I never had a chance to confer with them, as you told me that you

would direct when I asked for a letter of credentials, so that we might

confer together about everything, and you said: "We do not believe that

this thing will ever be accomplished by any other hands than those of the

servants of God." Exactly the contrary has been done. All is because we

have not yet true recognition of our faults. I perceive that those humble

words proceeded rather from fear and policy than from a real impulse of

love and virtue; for had the wrong done really been recognized, deeds

would have corresponded to the sound of words, and you would have trusted

your needs and what you wished from the Holy Father to the hands of the

true servants of God. They would so have conducted your affairs and those

of the Holy Father that you would have reached a good understanding. You

have not done it; wherefore I have felt great bitterness, over the wrong

done to God and over our loss.

But you do not see what evil and what great misfortunes come from your

obstinacy, and clinging fast to your resolution! Oh me, oh me! loose

yourselves from the bond of pride, and bind you to the humble Lamb; and do

not scorn or oppose His Vicar. No more thus! For the love of Christ

crucified! Hold not His Blood cheap! That which has not been done in past

time, do it now. Do not feel bitter or scornful should it seem to you that

the Holy Father demanded what appeared very hard and impossible to do.

Nevertheless he will not wish anything but what is possible to you. But he

does as a true father, who beats his son when he does wrong. He reproves

him very severely, to make him humble, and cognizant of his fault; and the

true son does not grow angry with his father, for he sees that whatever he

does is done for love of him; therefore the more the father drives him

off, the more he returns to him, ever asking for mercy. So I tell you, on

behalf of Christ crucified, that the more times you should be spurned by

our father Christ on earth, so many times you are to flee to him. Let him

do as he will, for he is right.

Behold that now he is coming to his bride, that is to hold the seat of St.

Peter and St. Paul. Do you run to him at once, with true humility of heart

and amendment of your sins, following the holy principle with which you

began. So doing, you shall have peace, spiritual and bodily. And if you do

in any other way, our ancestors never had so many woes as we shall have,

for we shall call down the wrath of God upon us, and shall not share in

the Blood of the Lamb.

I say no more. Be as urgent as you can, now that the Holy Father is to be

at Rome. I have done, and shall do, what I can, until death, for the

honour of God and for your peace, in order that this obstacle may be

removed, for it hinders the holy and sweet Crusade. If no other ill should

come from it, we are worthy of a thousand hells. Comfort you in Christ our

sweet Jesus, for I hope by His goodness that if you will keep in the way

you should you will have a good peace. Remain in the holy and sweet grace

of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.

Letters of Catherine Benincasa · 第 28 / 51 题