GREGORY: The most reverend man Libertinus, who in the time of Totila king of the Goths was prior of that same monastery of Fundi, was brought up and instructed in discipleship under him. Although a sure report of many has spread abroad his many virtues, nevertheless the aforesaid Laurence, a religious man who is still living, and who at that very time was most intimate with him, was wont to tell me many things about him, of which I will narrate a few that I recall. In that same province of Samnium which I mentioned above, this same man was making a journey for the benefit of the monastery. And when Darida, a duke of the Goths, had come with his army into that same place, the servant of God was thrown down from the horse on which he sat by his men.
Bearing willingly the loss of his lost beast, he even offered to those who were seizing it the whip that he was holding, saying: «Take it, that you may have wherewith to drive this beast»; and having said this, he at once gave himself to prayer. But the army of the aforesaid duke, in rapid course, came to a river named the Vulturnus, and there each one began to beat his horse with lances and to wound it with spurs; yet the horses, struck with blows and wounded with spurs, could be wearied but could not be moved; and thus they dreaded to touch the water of the river as though it were a deadly precipice. And when for a long time the several riders had wearied themselves with beating, one of them declared that it was because of the fault which they had committed against the servant of God on the way that they were suffering these losses of their journey.
At once returning, they found Libertinus behind them, prostrate in prayer. When they said to him: «Rise, take your horse,» he answered: «Go in peace, I have no need of a horse.» But dismounting, they lifted him, unwilling, onto the horse from which they had put him down, and straightway departed. Their horses crossed that river which before they could not cross with so great a speed, as though the channel of the river held no water at all. And thus it came to pass that when one horse was restored to the servant of God, all were received back by the several riders. At that same time also Buccellinus came with the Franks into the parts of Campania. And a rumour had gone out concerning the monastery of the aforesaid servant of God, that it held much money.
Entering the oratory, the Franks began, raging, to seek Libertinus, to shout for Libertinus, where he lay prostrate in prayer. A thing very marvellous: seeking and raging, the Franks, as they entered, kept striking against him, and yet could not see him; and thus, frustrated by their own blindness, they returned empty from the monastery. At another time also, for the affairs of the monastery, by command of the abbot who had succeeded Honoratus his master, he was journeying to Ravenna. Out of love for the same venerable Honoratus, wherever Libertinus went, he was accustomed always to carry the little sandal of Honoratus in his bosom. And so, as he was going along, it happened that a certain woman was carrying the little body of her dead son.
When she had beheld the servant of God, kindled with love for her son, she held his beast by the rein, and said with an oath: «You shall by no means depart, unless you raise up my son.» But he, being unaccustomed to such a miracle, was terrified at the oath of her petition: he wished to turn the woman away, but, by no means prevailing, he was left perplexed in mind. It is worth considering what a great struggle there was in his breast. For there the humility of his manner of life and the pity of a mother strove against each other: fear, lest he should presume upon the unaccustomed; grief, lest he should fail to succour the bereaved woman. But, to the greater glory of God, pity conquered that breast of virtue — which was for this reason strong, because it was conquered; for it would not have been a breast of virtue, if pity had not conquered it.
And so he dismounted, bent his knees, stretched out his hands to heaven, drew the little sandal from his bosom, and placed it upon the breast of the dead boy. As he prayed, the soul of the boy returned to the body; he took it by the hand, and gave it back living to its weeping mother, and completed the journey he had begun. PETER: What are we to say that this was? Did the merit of Honoratus, or the petition of Libertinus, work the power of so great a miracle? GREGORY: In the showing forth of so admirable a sign, together with the woman's faith, the virtue of both concurred; and therefore I judge that Libertinus was able to do these things because he had learned to trust more in his master's virtue than in his own. For he who placed his master's little sandal on the breast of the dead little body, judged without doubt that it was that master's soul which obtained what he asked.
For Elisha too, carrying his master's mantle and coming to the Jordan, struck once, and did not divide the waters at all. But when he suddenly said: «Where is the God of Elijah even now?» (2 Kings 2) he struck the river with his master's mantle, and made a way through the waters. Do you weigh, Peter, how much humility avails in the working of powers? Then he was able to display his master's power, when he recalled his master's name to memory. For because he returned in humility under his master, what his master had done he himself also did. PETER: What you say pleases me; but I beseech you, is there anything else which you may yet narrate about him for our edification? GREGORY: There is indeed, but only if there be someone who is willing to imitate it. For I believe the virtue of patience to be greater than signs and miracles.
For on a certain day, he who after the death of the venerable Honoratus held the government of the monastery blazed up with grievous wrath against this same venerable Libertinus, so that he beat him with his hands. And because he could by no means find a rod with which to strike him, seizing the footstool of a stool, he battered his head and face, and made his whole countenance swollen and livid; and Libertinus, vehemently beaten, withdrew silently to his own bed. But on the following day there was business appointed for the benefit of the monastery. When therefore the morning hymns were finished, Libertinus came to the abbot's bed and humbly begged a prayer of him.
But that man, knowing how much Libertinus was honoured and loved by all, supposed that, on account of the injury he had inflicted upon him, he wished to depart from the monastery, and asked him, saying: «Where do you wish to go?» He answered him: «Business has been appointed for the monastery, Father, which I cannot decline; yesterday I promised that I would go today, and I have resolved to go thither.» Then that man, considering from the depth of his heart his own harshness and hardness, and the humility and meekness of Libertinus, leaped from his bed, held the feet of Libertinus, and testified that he had sinned and was guilty, in that he had presumed to do so cruel an outrage to so great and such a man.
But Libertinus, on the contrary, prostrating himself on the ground and falling at his feet, kept declaring that what he had suffered had been of his own fault, not of the other's cruelty. And thus it came to pass that the Father was brought to great meekness, and the humility of the disciple became the mistress of the master. And when he had gone out to the settling of the business for the benefit of the monastery, many noted and noble men who greatly honoured him, vehemently astonished, anxiously inquired what this was, that he had so swollen and livid a face. To whom he said: «Yesterday evening, by the working of my sins, I struck against a footstool, and suffered this.»
And thus the holy man, preserving in his breast the honour of truth and of his master, neither betrayed the fault of his father, nor incurred the sin of falsehood. PETER: Do you suppose that this venerable man Libertinus, of whom you have related so many signs and miracles, did not leave in so ample a congregation imitators of himself in virtues?