. . . . connected by marriage1 and not subject to guardianship and stationed besides in a social position in which, as Q. Ennius says,
All give foolish counsel, and look in all to pleasing only;
and Plautus, too, in his Colax, says finely on the same subject,
Crafty cajolers, who with fast-pledged faith Take in the trustful: these stand round a king, And what they speak is far from what they think.
These drawbacks used formerly to be confined to kings, but now, indeed, even the sons of kings have more than enough of men who, as Naevius2 says,
Still flatter with their tongues and still assent, And fawn upon them to their heart's content.3
I do right, then, my master, in being so ardent, right in setting before me one single aim, right in thinking of one man only when I take my pen in hand.
You very kindly ask for my hexameters, and I too should have sent them at once if I had had them with me. But my secretary—you know him, I mean Anicetus—did not pack up any of my work when I set out. For he knows my failing and was afraid that, if they came into my hands, I should do as I usually do, and consign them to the flames. But, as a matter of fact, those particular hexameters were in next to no danger. For, to tell my master the truth, I dote on them. I pore over them o' nights, for the day is spent in the theatre. And so I get through but little in the evening, being tired, and in the morning I get up sleepy. Still I have made for myself these last few days five notebooks full of extracts from sixty volumes. But when you read sixty, don't be staggered by the number, for included in them are the little Atellane farces of Novius and Scipio's speechlets.
As you have mentioned your Polemo, please don't mention Horace again, who, with Polio,4 is dead and done with as far as I am concerned. Farewell, my dearest, my most beloved friend; farewell, my most honourable consul, my most sweet master, whom I have not seen these two years. For as to what some say, that two months5 have intervened, they only count days. Shall I ever see you?
143 A.D.
To the most honourable consul, his master, M. Caesar, greeting.