14. To Theodard, Prior of La Charité

Partial first draft.

To the loved brother Theodard, the brother Peter, humble abbot of the Cluniacs sends good wishes.

What is it? To use the voice of the Jews, How long will you carry our soul? For how long will you pull one resisting? How long will you lead me around bound in chains? O how heavy is the shackle of love by which neither guilt is lessened, nor is innocence obtained! It is stronger than any metal, heavier than any weight, since love is as strong as death, rivalry is as harsh as the dead.I am held bound by this shackle, hard-pressed, I am weighed down by this load, I am bound by these chains wherever I go. The soul carries these things, never unmindful of you, and while it changes from region to region, province to province, it is never able to change only you, never able to drive you from it. Why this? Surely not leadership from you? Surely not a kingdom? Surely not the glory of the world? Surely it does not await the golden mountains? A friendly soul does not expect this, my beloved, nor that, and certainly not the last from you. What therefore does a friend expect? You yourself know! Why do I spend my time in speaking? I send your very self back to yourself. You must be the discoverer, the judge and the attorney of these matters. And to say something, beg Him for me whom I revere for being possible and whom I love in you. Which, although my mind meditates upon it, though my tongue speaks of it, nonetheless my life passes by it at a distance. Render therefore a return-gift to a friend, with the result that he always be held in constant memory who, amidst his harsh labours, is not forgetful of you in your sweet rest which is easier than many. I briefly sent first these words in writing; with God wishing it, you will be told in person what I passed over.