Chapter V.
The tables of the rich are sustained by the blood and life of many poor people; and therein, a most beautiful description is given of the pain and turmoil of a certain father, whose son was forced by a rich man to be sold; likewise, the immense hardness of the rich is shown, which the women themselves also increase with their own expenses and luxury.
19. How religious it would be if you considered the food of your banquet to be for the poor! That rich man would already be more tolerable, from whose table Lazarus desired to gather what fell, wishing to be satisfied: but even the table of that rich man consisted of the blood of many poor people; and his cups dripped with the discharge of many whom he had forced into the noose.
20. How many are killed so that what pleases you is obtained? Your deadly hunger, your deadly excess. He falls from the highest peaks in order to prepare ample storehouses for your grain. He falls from the lofty summit of a tall tree while exploring the different varieties of grapes to bring back, worthy of being poured at your feast. He is submerged in the sea, fearing that there will be no fish or oysters for your table. He freezes in the winter cold while searching for hares or trying to catch birds with snares. If anything displeased him, he would be beaten to death before your eyes and drench the very banquet with his spilt blood. Finally, there was a rich man who ordered the head of the poor prophet to be brought to his table, and he found no other way to reward a dancer than to command the poor man to be killed.
21. I saw a poor man being led, while he was being forced to pay what he did not have, being dragged to prison, because there was a lack of wine on the table of a powerful person; he had his children taken to an auction, so that he could postpone the punishment for a while. By chance, he found someone who would help him in that necessity, he returned to his dwelling with his poor ones, looking at everything that had been plundered, nothing left for himself to eat, groaning over the hunger of his children, regretting that he had not sold them to someone who could feed them. He returns to his plan, he takes the decision to sell. However, the injustice of poverty and the kindness of paternal duty clashed: hunger pushed towards profit, nature towards duty. Prepared to die for his children rather than be separated from them, he often advanced and often retracted this step. Nevertheless, necessity prevailed over will, and even kindness yielded to necessity.
22. Now let us consider the storms of the troubled homeland of the mind, which of the children shall I deliver first? Whom, he says, shall I sell first? For I know that the price of one is not enough for the sustenance of the others. This alone is the wealthy fecundity leading to hardship. Whom shall I offer? Whom will the auctioneer of grain gladly gaze upon? Shall I offer the firstborn? But he called me father first. This one is the eldest among the sons, whom I appropriately honor as the elder. But shall I give the younger one? I embrace him with a tenderer love. I blush for him, I pity him; for him I sigh, for him I am concerned; he already feels the pain, this one is ignorant; his pain moves me, his ignorance frustrates me. Should I turn to others? He flatters me more, he is more bashful; he is more like a parent, he is more useful; in him I sell my image, in him I reveal my hope. Woe is me! I do not find what I should do, I have nothing to choose. Faces of calamities surround me, a chorus of hardships.
23. This is a savage madness, to choose whom to deliver. The very wild animals, when they sense dangers approaching for their offspring and themselves, are accustomed to choose whom to free, not whom to offer. Therefore, how can I distinguish the attitude of nature? How can I forget, how can I shed my father's mind? How can I establish an auction for the sons? In what language shall I negotiate the price? In whose hands shall I entrust the servitude of my son? With what eyes shall I behold him as a servant? With what kisses shall I bid farewell as he departs? By what means can I excuse my actions? Son, I sold you in exchange for my own food. Therefore, the table of the poor is now more mournful than that of the rich. He enslaves others, I sell myself: he imposes necessity, I bring forth willingness. To make the cause more excusable, I will add: Son, you will serve for the sake of your brothers, so that food may be sought for them. And Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, afterwards he provided for them as well as his father. And he will answer: But it was not our father who sold him, rather he wept over the loss: but later he himself also came into the power of the rich man, and could barely be set free. Later, his son served under the riches of Egypt for a long time. Finally, father, sell me on this condition, that wealthy people do not buy.
24. Oh, I confess, what should I do? Should I sell nothing? But while I consider one thing, I see all perishing with hunger. If I give one away, with what eyes will I see the rest suspecting me of impiety, that I may not also sell others? With what shame shall I return home? How will I enter? With what feeling shall I dwell, when I have denied myself a son, whom neither sickness wasted away, nor death took away? With what conscience shall I consider my table, which, like young olives surrounding, used to clothe so many sons?
25. In your presence, this poor person laments and your greed blocks your ear, and your mind is not softened by the horror of your actions. The whole population groans, and you alone, rich person, are not moved, and you do not hear the Scripture saying: Lose money for the sake of your brother and friend, and do not hide it under a stone for your death (Sirach 29:13). And because you do not hear, therefore Ecclesiastes cries out saying: There is an evil disease that I have seen under the sun: riches being kept for the harm of their owner (Ecclesiastes 5:12). But perhaps you return home and consult with your wife: she will urge you to redeem what has been sold. Indeed, she will encourage you even more to engage in the women's world, from where you can rescue the poor even with a small amount. She will impose on you the necessity of expenses; that she may drink from a gem cup, sleep on a purple bed, recline on a silver couch, burden her hands with gold, and adorn her neck with necklaces.
Women are delighted by chains as long as they are made of gold. They do not consider them burdensome if they are precious; they do not think of them as chains if they sparkle with treasures. They are also delighted by wounds; so that gold can be inserted into their ears, and pearls can hang. They also have their own weights, and their own cooling garments. They sweat in gemstones, and freeze in silks; yet prices please them: and greed advocates what nature abhors. They eagerly seek emeralds, hyacinths, beryls, agates, topaz, amethysts, jasper, sardonyx with the utmost frenzy: even if half of their inheritance is sought, they do not spare the expense, as long as they indulge their desire. I do not deny that a certain splendor belongs to these stones, but they are still stones. And they themselves remind us that, contrary to nature, they are polished, so that they rid the stones of their roughness, rather than polishing the rigidity of the mind.