Letter 81: Procopius tells Hieronymus to write even if he mocks Gaza and Elusa from the Nile.

Again it is Egypt and luxury. Meanwhile I am poor in your eyes, and no word is sent to absent friends. That is nothing serious. Laugh, if you like, while you look at the Nile flowing with gold. Raise your eyebrow even higher; I will endure being looked down on. But a day will come when you see Elusa again. Then you will weep over sand driven by the winds, stripping the vine down to the roots. There the nymphs are dry or salty, and Zeus the rain-bringer is nowhere. Then I will laugh and turn Fortune into comedy, while you call the man now thrown aside a happy one. While the Nile allows you your Egyptian luxury, only write. Call us small people, crawling close to the ground. In that way I will at least enjoy your letters, and I will console myself for your arrogance with hope for what is coming.

Ἱερωνύμωι Πάλιν Αἴγυπτος καὶ τρυφή, καὶ πένητες ἡμεῖς παρὰ σοὶ καὶ λόγος ἀπόντων οὐδείς. οὐδὲν τοῦτο πρᾶγμα· γέλα μόνον χρυσῷ ῥέοντα τὸν Νεῖλον ὁρῶν. κἂν ἔτι μᾶλλον τὴν ὀφρῦν ἀνασπάσῃς οἴσομεν πάντως ὑπερορώμενοι. ἔσσεται γὰρ ἦμαρ, ὅτε πάλιν ὄψει τὴν Ἐλοῦσαν, καὶ δακρύσεις ψάμμον μεθισταμένην τοῖς πνεύμασι καὶ γυμνοῦσαν εἰς ῥίζας τὴν ἄμπελον. ἔνθα καὶ νύμφαι ξηραί τινες καὶ θαλάττιαι, καὶ Ζεὺς ὑέτιος οὐδαμοῦ. τότε γελάσω μὲν ἐγὼ καὶ κωμῳδήσω τὴν τύχην, σὺ δὲ νομιεῖς εὐδαίμονα τὸν νῦν ἀπερριμμένον ἐμέ. πλὴν ἐν ὅσῳ σοι δίδωσιν ὁ Νεῖλος τρυφᾶν, γράφε μόνον καὶ κάλει σμικροὺς ἡμᾶς καὶ χαμαί τινας ἐρχομένους. οὕτω γὰρ καὶ σοῦ γράφοντος ἀπολαύσομεν καὶ τὴν σὴν ἀλαζονείαν τῇ τοῦ μέλλοντος ἐλπίδι παραμυθησόμεθα.