Letter 217: I return to the subject of your building projects, not because I wish to criticize -- you know my admiration for...

To Andronicus. (360?) I thought the time of your governorship would be a time of good cheer for Theon's son -- given what I asked and what you promised. But perhaps he praises your predecessor; and if he does not say so openly, out of decency, he would be right to think it. Under that man everything was calm for him; under you, it has been the Straits of Sicily. Our friend has not even matched the moderation of those who are not my friends -- so far have you come in your "love" for me. Just so that one man, Ursus, may be flattered through unjust tax-collection, my claims on you have been trampled, the debts of gratitude are treated like a ram's feeding-bill, the verdicts of so many governors are scorned, and you see nothing wrong in driving the sword through your own people. It seems, dearest friend, that excessive praise has corrupted you, and you think that by persecuting your intimates you are surpassing Aeacus himself. But we do not even praise those who in a night battle lay hands on friends through ignorance -- we pity them, and they too pity themselves for not knowing what they did. But whoever does this in broad daylight and boasts of his impiety -- I do not know what purification exists for such a man. Come now, my good man: do not strike the Graces from the register of gods, and do not imagine it is equally safe to offend me and to offend a man who knows how to fight back and resembles lions -- the invincible Olympius.

Ἀνδρονίκῳ. (360?) Ἡμεῖς μὶν ᾠόμεθα τὸν τῆς σῆς ἀρχῆς χρόνον εὐθυμίας ἔσεσθαι τῷ παιδὶ τῷ Θέωνος χρόνον ἔκ τε ὧν ἐδεήθημεν ἔκ τε ὧν ἐπηγγέλλου, ὁ δ’ ἴσως ἐπαινεῖ τὸν πρότερον· εἰ δὲ οὐδὲ τοῦτο ποιεῖ διὰ τὴν ἐπιείκειαν, ἀλλ’ εἴπερ ἐπῄνει, δικαίως ἂν ἐπῄνει. γέγονε γὰρ αὐτῷ πάντα ἐκεῖνα γαλήνη, τὰ δὲ παρὰ σοῦ πορθμὸς Σικελίας καὶ οὐδὲ τὴν τῶν μὴ φίλων ἡμῖν ὁ φίλος ἐμιμήσω μετριότητα, πρὸς τοσοῦτον ἥκεις τοῦ φιλεῖν, ἀλλ’ ἕνα Οὖρσος δι’ εἰσπράξεως ἀδίκου κολακευθῇ, πεπάτηται μὲν τὰ πρὸς ἡμᾶς, καὶ τροφεῖα κριοῦ, καταπεφρόνηνται δὲ τοσούτων γνώσεις ὑπάρχων, δεινὸν δὲ οὐδέν, εἰ διὰ τῶν οἰ- κείων ὤσεις τὸ ξίφος ἔοικέ σε ὁ πολὺς ἔπαινος, ὦ φίλ- τατε, διεφθαρκέναι καὶ νομίζεις ἐν τῷ τοὺς ἐπιτηδείους ἐλαύ- νεῖν τὸν Αἰακὸν παρελᾶν. ἀλλ’ οὐδὲ τοὺς ἐν νυκτομαχίᾳ μέν- τοι τῶν φίλων ὑπ’ ἀγνοίας ἁπτομένους ἐπαινοῦμεν, ἀλλ’ ἐλε- οῦμεν, καὶ αὐτοὶ δέ εἰσι τῶν αὑτοὺς ἐλεούντων, ὅτι ἠγνόησαν. ὅστις δὲ ἐν ἡμέρᾳ καὶ φωτὶ τοῦτο ποιεῖ καὶ σεμνύνεται δυσ- σεβῶν, οὐκ οἶδα εἴ τι τούτῳ ἔστι καθάρσιον. ἀλλ’, ὦγαθέ, μὴ διάγραφε τὰς Χάριτας τοῦ καταλόγου τῶν θεῶν μηδ’ ὁμοίως ἀκίνδυνον ἡγοῦ τὸ λυπεῖν ἐμέ τε καὶ τὸν ἐπιστάμενον ἀμύ- νεσθαι καὶ λέουσιν ἐοικότα, τὸν ἀήττητον Ὀλύμπιον.