Letter 101.7

To my Lord. 1. I have received your letter, Caesar, and you will easily judge how greatly it delighted me if you weigh each point in turn. First, and this is the chief source of all my joy, I learned that you are in good health; and then I perceived that you love me so devotedly that you set no end and no limit to your affection, but every day you find some new way to act toward me more agreeably and more as a friend. For my own part, I have long since thought myself loved well enough, but for you it is not yet enough, not even how much you cherish me; so that no sea is as deep as your love toward me. Indeed I might justly complain on this very ground: why do you not yet love me as much as is utterly possible? For by loving me more day by day, you bring it about that what you loved most highly before that day was not, after all, the most. 2. Do you suppose that my consulship was as great a delight to me as the so many proofs of the deepest love you have given me in this single matter? You yourself recited to your father the excerpts of my speech [oratio] which I had selected, and you brought your full effort to the delivery; and in doing this you lent me the use of your eyes, your voice, your gesture, and above all your mind. Nor do I see which one of the ancient writers was more blessed than I, those whose writings Aesopus or Roscius declaimed before the people. My speech, however, has had Marcus Caesar both as its sponsor and as its declaimer, and it was by your work and your voice that I pleased the audience, since to be heard by you and to please you is for all men the highest thing to be wished for. I do not wonder, then, that the speech found favor, adorned as it was by the dignity of your delivery [literally, of your mouth]. For most things that lack their own particular charm borrow from outside a grace not their own. This happens even with those common dishes of the people: no vegetable or scrap of meat is so cheap or commonplace that it does not seem more elegant when set out in golden vessels. The same happens with flowers and garlands: they have one dignity when they are sold by the garland-makers, another when they are presented by the priests. 3. And so I am far more fortunate than Hercules or Achilles were, whose arms and weapons were borne by Patroclus and Philoctetes, men far inferior to them in valor; whereas my speech, by contrast, mediocre, not to say obscure, has been made illustrious by Caesar, the most learned and most eloquent of men. Nor did any stage ever possess so much dignity: Marcus Caesar the performer, Titus the emperor the listener. What greater thing can fall to anyone's lot, except the one thing that the poets relate happens in heaven, when the Muses sing with father Jove for an audience? Truly, with what words could I express my joy that you sent me that speech of mine copied out in your own hand? It is indeed true, as our Laberius says, that to instill love, "enticements" are "deliriums," and "benefactions" are "bewitchments" [Laberius's puns: delenimenta / deleramenta, beneficia / veneficia]. With what cup or what potion could anyone have struck so great a flame of love into me as you have, who by this deed of yours have rendered me dazed and thunderstruck with the burning ardor of your love? As many letters as there are in that document, just so many consulships, just so many laurels, triumphs, and embroidered robes [togae pictae, the garb of a triumphing general] do I reckon to have fallen to my lot. 4. What such fortune ever came to Marcus Porcius [Cato], or to Quintus Ennius, to Gaius Gracchus, or to the poet Titius? What to Scipio or to Numidicus, what such thing to Marcus Tullius [Cicero]? Their books are held more precious and retain the highest glory if they are copies written by the hand of Lampadio or Staberius, of Plautius or Decimus Aurelius, of Autrico or Aelius, or corrected by Tiro, or transcribed by Domitius Balbus, or by Atticus or Nepos. My speech will survive written in the hand of Marcus Caesar. Whoever scorns the speech will covet the lettering; whoever despises the writing will revere the writer. Just as, if Apelles had painted an ape or a fox, his picture would add value to that worthless beast; or as Marcus Cato (said) about an ailing slave... [four pages are missing]

? 144–145 A.D. To my Lord. 1. I have received your letter, O Caesar, and the great delight it gave me you will easily gauge if you consider these separate points. First, and this is the head and front of all my joy, that I know you are well; then because I felt that you loved me so well as not to be able to set any bound or limit to your love, so as not to find something to do for me every day more kindly and more friendly than before. In fine, I have long thought myself loved enough, but you are not yet satisfied with your affection for me, so that deeper than ever plummet sounded is your love toward me, insomuch that I might quite well make the complaint, Why do you not yet love me with the utmost love possible, for by loving me more from day to day you prove that your love hitherto has fallen short of its utmost measure? 2. Think you that my consulship has been such a delight as the many tokens you have given me of your love in this one case? Samples of my speech, which I had picked out for you, you read to your father yourself, and took the pains to declaim them, wherein you lent me your eyes, your voice, your gestures, and, above all, your mind for my service. Nor can I see which single one of the ancient writers, whose writings were declaimed to the people by Aesopus or Roscius, was more fortunate than I. My speech has had Marcus Caesar for its actor and declaimer, and it was by your agency and through your voice that I pleased the hearers, whereas to be heard by you and to please you would be the height of every man's ambition. No wonder, then, my speech found favour, set off, as it was, by the dignity of your utterance. For many a thing, that lacks all intrinsic charm, borrows from elsewhere a grace that is not its own, and this is the case even with our homeliest eatables. No pot-herb, no bit of flesh is so cheap or commonplace a food as not to gain piquancy if served in a golden dish. The same is true of flowers and garlands: they have one scale of worth when sold by flower-vendors in the Flower-market, another when offered in a temple by the priests. 3. So much more fortunate am I than was Hercules or Achilles, for their armour and weapons were borne by Philoctetes and Patroclus, men far inferior to them in manhood, while my poor, not to say sorry, speech has been rendered famous by Caesar the most learned and eloquent of all men. Never was scene so impressive—M. Caesar actor, Titus Imperator audience! What nobler fate could befall anyone save that alone, when in Heaven, as poets tell, the Muses sing, while Jove their sire is audience? Indeed, with what words could I express my delight at your sending me that speech of mine copied out with your own hand? True, surely, is what our Laberius says, that in inspiring love charms are but harms and the foison of gifts poison . For never with cup or philtre could anyone so have stirred the flame of passion in a lover as by this act of yours you have dazed and amazed me by the ardour of your love. For every letter of your letter I count myself to have gained a consulship, a victory, a triumph, a robe of honour. 4. What fortune like this befell M. Porcius or Quintus Ennius, Gaius Gracchus, or the poet Titius? What Scipio or Numidicus? What M. Tullius, like this? Their books are valued more highly and have the greatest credit, if they are from the hand of Lampadio or Staberius, of Plautius or D. Aurelius, Autrico or Aelius, or have been revised by Tiro or transcribed by Domitius Balbus, or Atticus or Nepos. My speech will be extant in the handwriting of M. Caesar. He that thinks little of the speech will be in love with the very letters of it; he who disdains the thing written will reverence the writer. Just as if Apelles painted an ape or a fox, he would add a value to the lowest of creatures. Or as M. Cato (said) of . . . .

ad M. Caesarem 1.7 [13 Hout; 1.162 Haines] Domino meo 1 Accepi, Caesar, litteras tuas, quibus quanto opere laetatus sim, facile aestimas, si reputaveris singula. Primum quod caput est omnis mei gaudii, cum te bene valere cognovi, tum quod ita amantem mei sensi, finem ut amori nullum neque modum statuas, quin cottidie aliquid reperias, quod circa me jucundius atque amicius facias. Ego denique olim jam me puto satis amari, tibi autem nondum, etiam quantum me diligas, satis est; ut non mare ullum tam sit profundum quam tuus adversus me amor: Sane ut illud queri possim, cur me nondum ames tantum quantum plurimum potest, namque in dies plus amando efficis, ne id quod ante diem amaveris plurimum fuerit. 2 Consulatum mihi putas tanto gaudio fuisse, quanto tua tot in una re summi amoris indicia? Orationis meae particulas, quas excerpseram recitasti patri tuo ipse studiumque ad pronuntiandum adhibuisti, qua in re et oculos mihi tuos utendos et vocem et gestum et inprimis animum accomodasti. Nec video, quis veterum scriptorum quisquam me beatior fuerit, quorum scripta Aesopus ad populum pronuntiavit aut Roscius. Meae vero orationi M. Caesar auctor contigit et pronuntiator, tuaque ego opera et voce audientibus placui, cum audiri a te ac tibi placere omnibus summe sit optabile. Non miror itaque, quod placuerit oratio oris tui dignitate exornata. Nam pleraque propria venustate carentia gratiam sibimet alienam extrinsecus mutuantur. Quod evenit etiam in plebis istis edulibus: Nullum adeo vile aut volgatum est holus aut pulpamentum, quin elegantius videatur vasis aureis adpositum. Idem evenit floribus et coronis: Alia dignitate sunt, quom a coronariis veneunt, alia, quom a sacerdotibus porriguntur. 3 Tantoque ego fortunatior, quam fuit Hercules atque Achilles, quorum arma et tela gestata sunt a Patricole et Philocteta, multo viris virtute inferioribus; mea contra oratio mediocris, ne dicam ignobilis, a doctissimo et facundissimo hominum Caesare inlustrata est. Nec ulla umquam scena tantum habuit dignitatis: M. Caesar actor, Titus imperator auditor. Quid amplius cuiquam contingere potest - nisi unum, quod in caelo fieri poetae ferunt, quom Jove patre audiente Musae cantant? Enimvero quibus ego gaudium meum verbis exprimere possim, quod orationem istam meam tua manu descriptam misisti mihi? Verum est profecto, quod ait noster Laberius, ad amorem iniciendum ‘delenimenta’ esse ‘deleramenta’, ‘beneficia’ autem ‘veneficia’. Quo poculo aut veneno quisquam tantum flammae ad amandum incussisset praeut ut tu me et facto hoc stupidum et attonitum ardente amore tuo reddidisti? Quot litterae istic sunt, totidem consulatus mihi, totidem laureas, triumphos, togas pictas arbitror contigisse. 4 Quid tale M. Porcio aut Quinto Ennio, C. Graccho aut Titio poetae, quid Scipioni aut Numidico, quid M. Tullio tale usuvenit? Quorum libri pretiosiores habentur et summam gloriam retinent si sunt Lampadionis aut Staberii, Plautii aut D. Aurelii, Autriconis aut Aelii manu scripta exempla aut a Tirone emendata aut a Domitio Balbo descripta aut ab Attico aut Nepote. Mea oratio extabit M. Caesaris manu scripta. Qui orationem spreverit, litteras concupiscet; qui scripta contempserit, scriptorem reverebitur. Ut si simiam aut volpem Apelles pinxerit, ei bestiae nihili pictura pretium adderet; aut quod M. Cato de aegro servo [quattuor paginae desunt]