AT last I perceive the reason for your frequent repetition of good wishes for my health, which others are as a rule content to express but once in their letters: you would give me to understand that in addition to mere wishes, which were all that you yourself could formerly give, and all that others can give even now, you can now add the crowning gift of your skill and of the whole might of Medicine. For you wish me good health a thousandfold, to my heart's content, to the utmost of my capacity, or even more. Why, you must just have been created High Steward of Health, to judge by the way you make free with Health's store- cupboard; or else Health herself must have become your poor dependent, so magnificently do you play the wealthy patron and command her obedience. So pray accept my congratulations and thanks, which are doubly due to you, first for your friendly interest and secondly for the notable skill you have acquired.

I waited long for a letter from you, according to our agreement; but in spite of having received none up to the present, I have not on that account, believe me, allowed my old good will toward you to cool in the least; for I felt sure that you would put forward the same plea in defence of your dilatoriness as you did at the beginning of our correspondence, one which you have every right to make use of, and which the friendly relations between us fully justify. For I would not have true friendship tried by the test of letters and good wishes, which may all be feigned; but its roots and the source of its strength should go deep into the mind, and it should spring from a pure origin, so that, even were all tokens of mutual regard to cease, yet it should endure throughout life, untainted by suspicion or recrimination. For its nurture the written word is less essential than a lively recollection of virtues on both sides. Nor does it follow that, in default of your writing, there is nothing to supply the omission; your integrity writes to me in your stead, and indites true letters on the tablets of my heart; the purity of your life and your love of virtue write to me, your whole character too, far above the common, writes to me and commends you to me more and more.

So, now that you have entered the despotic stronghold of Medicine, pray do not terrify me with your threats or reckon up the account in detail and demand of me the repayment in full of all those thousand good healths, should ever I prove a traitor to friendship, which God forbid. But remove that formidable embargo which you have put upon my freedom, forbidding me to be sick without your kind permission. To avert your threats, I assure you that it is impossible for me not to love such men as yourself, for though I know not God's intent toward me in other respects, yet of this I am sure, that he has imbued me especially with a mighty passion for Beauty. Ceres never sought her daughter Proserpine (as the legend tells) with greater ardor than I do this Idea of Beauty, like some image of loveliness; ever pursuing it, by day and by night, in every shape and form ("for many forms there are of things divine") and following close in its footprints as it leads. And so, whensoever I find one who spurns the base opinions of common men, and dares to be, in thought and word and deed, that which the wisest minds throughout the ages have approved; whensoever, I say, I find such a man, to him I find myself impelled forthwith to cleave. And if I am fated, either by nature or destiny, never to attain this high honour and glory in my own proper person, for all my toil and striving, yet sure I am that neither god nor man shall forbid me to honour and revere all my days those who have won such glory as this, or are happily striving toward it.

To change the subject, I know it is time to satisfy your curiosity. You make many eager enquiries, even asking about my thoughts. I will tell you, Diodati, but let me whisper it in your ear, to spare my blushes, and allow me for a moment to speak to you in a boastful strain. What am I thinking about? you ask. So help me God, of immortality. What am I doing? Growing wings and learning to fly; but my Pegasus can only rise on tender pinions as yet, so let my new wisdom be humble.

To be serious, my plan is to take rooms in one of the Inns of Court, where I hope to find a pleasant and shady spot in which to stroll, and which may afford a more convenient dwelling-place, among congenial companions, when I wish to stay at home, and a more suitable point d'appui if I prefer to roam abroad; here my life is, as you know, obscure and cramped.

Of my studies too I will tell you. My study of Greek history has brought me, by steady work, to the point at which they ceased to be Greeks. I have spent much time on the obscure history of Italy under the Lombards, Franks, and Germans, down to the time when it was set free by Rudolf, King of Germany. What follows, the history of each independent state, will be best studied separately.

But what are you doing? How long will you continue to be engrossed in domestic affairs, like a dutiful son, forgetful of your friends in town? Unless this stepmotherly warfare is worse than that against the Dacians or Sarmatians, you must certainly make haste, and take up your winter quarters, at any rate, with us. Meanwhile, if it is not troubling you too much, please send me Giustiniani's History of Venice; I promise either to keep it safe till you come, or if you prefer, to return it to you in a short time. Farewell.

London, September 23rd, 1637.

Translation by Phyllis B. Tillyard