Letter 104.13

To my master. 1. Gaius Aufidius is full of himself; he carries his own judgment to the skies, and declares that no man more upright than himself has ever come from Umbria to Rome—to put it no more strongly than that. What more need I say? He would rather be praised as a judge than as an orator. When I laugh, he looks down on me: he says it is an easy thing to sit yawning beside a judge, but that to give judgment is truly a splendid work. All this is aimed at me! But for all that the business has turned out nicely; it is well, and I am glad. 2. Your coming both makes me happy and makes me anxious. Why it makes me happy, let no one ask. But why it makes me anxious I will, so help me God, confess to you. For the piece you gave me to write—I have not, idle as I am, given it even the smallest bit of effort. Ariston's books at this season treat me well, and at the same time treat me badly: when they teach me better things, then of course they treat me well; but when they show me how far my own talent has fallen short of these better things, then all too often your pupil blushes and is furious with himself, because at twenty-five years of age I have as yet drawn into my soul nothing of sound opinions and purer reasonings. And so I do penance, I rage, I am gloomy, I am jealous [Greek: ζηλοτυπῶ, "I am consumed with envy/jealousy"], I go without food. 3. Bound fast now by these cares, I have put off the duty of writing each day until the next. But by now I shall contrive something; and, as a certain Attic orator once advised the assembly of the Athenians—"that the laws must now and then be allowed to sleep"—so, after making my peace with Ariston's books, I shall grant them leave to rest a little while, and turn myself wholly to that stage poet of yours, having first read through some little speeches of Tully [Cicero]. I shall, however, write only one side or the other of the case; for as to defending opposite positions on the same matter, Ariston will surely never sleep so soundly as to permit that! 4. Farewell, my best and most honorable master. My Lady sends you her greetings.

145–147 A.D. To my master. Gaius Aufidius gives himself airs, extols his own judgment to the skies, says that not another man more just than himself ever came from Umbria, for I must not exaggerate, to Rome. What need of more? He would rather win praise as a judge than as an orator. When I smile, he turns up his nose. Anyone, he says, can sit yawning beside a judge, but to be a judge is indeed to do noble work. This is meant for me! However the affair has turned out finely. All is well: I rejoice. Your coming makes me happy and at the same time uneasy. Why happy, it needs not to enquire: wherefore uneasy I will, 'fore heaven, avow to you. For with plenty of time on my hands I have not given an atom of it to the task you gave me to write. Ariston's books just now treat me well and at the same time make me feel ill. When they teach me a better way, then, I need not say, they treat me well; but when they shew me how far short my character comes of this better way, time and time again does your pupil blush and is angry with himself, for that, twenty-five years old as I am, no draught has my soul yet drunk of noble doctrines and purer principles. Therefore I do penance, am wroth with myself, am sad, compare myself with others, starve myself. A prey to these thoughts at this time, I have put off each day till the morrow the duty of writing. But now I will think out something, and as a certain Athenian orator once warned an assembly of his countrymen, that the laws must sometimes be allowed to sleep , I will make my peace with Ariston's works and allow them to lie still awhile, and after reading some of Tully's minor speeches I will devote myself entirely to your stage poet. However, I can only write on one side or the other, for as to my defending both sides of the question, Ariston will, I am sure, never sleep so soundly as to allow me to do that! Farewell, best and most honoured of masters. My Lady greets you.

ad M. Caesarem 4.13 [67 Hout; 1.214 Haines] Magistro meo. 1 C. Aufidius animos tollit, arbitratum suum in caelum fert, negat se hominem justiorem, ne quid immoderatius dicam, ex Umbria ullum alium Romam venisse. Quid quaeris? Judicem se quam oratorem volt laudari. Cum rideo, despicit: Facile esse ait oscitantem judici assidere, ceterum quidem judicare praeclarum opus. Haec in me. Sed tamen negotium belle se dedit, bene est, gaudeo. 2 Tuus adventus me cum beat tum sollicitat. Cur beet, nemo quaerat. Quamobrem sollicitet ego me dius Fidius fatebor tibi. Nam quod scribendum dedisti ne paululum quidem operae ei, quamvis otiosus, dedi. Aristonis libri me hac tempestate bene accipiunt atque idem habent male: Cum docent meliora, tum scilicet bene accipiunt; cum vero ostendunt, quantum ab his melioribus ingeium meum relictum sit, nimis quam saepe erubescit discipulus tuus sibique suscenset quod viginti quinque natus annos nihildum bonarum opinionum et puriorum rationum animo hauserim. Itaque poenas do, irascor, tristis sum, ζηλοτυπῶ, cibo careo. 3 His nunc ego curis devinctus obsequium scribendi cotidie in diem posterum protuli. Sed jam aliquid comminiscar et, quod orator quidam Atticus Atheniensium contionem monebat, “nonnumquam permittendem legibus dormire”, libris Aristonis propitiatis paulisper quiescere concedam meque ad istum histrionum poetam totum convertam lecteis prius oratiunculeis Tullianeis. Scribam autem alterutram partem, nam eadem de re diversa tueri numquam prosus ita dormiet Aristo uti permittat. 4 Vale, mi optime et honestissime magister. Domina mea te salutat.