Appius used some time back to repeat in conversation, and afterwards said openly, even in the senate, that if he were allowed to carry a law in the cornitia curiata, he vould draw lots with his colleague for their provinces; but if no curiatian law were passed, he would make an arralgement with his colleague and succeed you: that a curiatian law was a proper thing for a consul, but was not a necessity: that since he was in possession of a province by a decree of the senate, he should have imperiuns in virtue of the Cornelian law until such time as he entered the city. I don't know what your several connexions write to you on the subject: I understand that opinion varies. There are some who think that you can legally refuse to quit your province, because your successor is named without a curiatian law: some also hold that, even if you do quit it, you may leave some one behind you to conduct its government. For myself, I do not feel so certain about the point of law--although there is not much doubt even about that--as I do of this, that it is for your greatest honour, dignity, and independence, which I know you always value above everything, to hand over your province to a successor without any delay, especially as you cannot thwart his greediness without rousing suspicion of your own. I regard my duty as twofold--to let you know what I think, and to defend what you have done.
PS.--I had written the above when I received your letter about the publicani, to whom I could not but admire the justice of your conduct. I could have wished that you had been able by sonic lucky chance to avoid running counter to the interests and wishes of that order, whose honour you have always promoted. For my part, I shall not cease to defend your decrees: but you know the ways of that class of men; you are aware how bitterly hostile they were to the famous Q. Scaevola himself. However, I advise you to reconcile that order to yourself, or at least soften its feelings, if you can by any means do so. Though difficult, I think it is, nevertheless, not beyond the reach of your sagacity.
To C. TREBATIUS TESTA (IN GAUL)
IN the "Trojan Horse," just at the end, you remember the words, "Too late they learn wisdom." You, however, old man, were wise in time. Those first snappy letters of yours were foolish enough, and then--! I don't at all blame you for not being over-curious in regard to Britain. For the present, however, you seem to be in winter quarters somewhat short of warm clothing, and therefore not caring to stir out:
"Not here and there, but everywhere, Be wise and ware: No sharper steel can warrior bear."
If I had been by way of dining out, I would not have failed your friend Cn. Octavius; to whom, however, I did remark upon his repeated invitations, "Pray, who are you?" But, by Hercules, joking apart, be is a pretty fellow: I could have wished you had taken him with you! Let me know for certain what you are doing and whether you intend coming to Italy at all this winter. Balbus has assured me that you will be rich. Whether he speaks after the simple Roman fashion, meaning that you will be well supplied with money, or according to the Stoic dictum, that "all are rich who can enjoy the sky and the earth," I shall know hereafter. Those who come from your part accuse you of pride, because they say you won't answer men who put questions to you. However, there is one thing that will please you: they all agree in saying that there is no better lawyer than you at Samarobriva!
YES, I saw well enough what your feelings were as I parted from you; what mine were I am my own witness. This makes it all the mote incumbent on you to prevent an additional decree being passed, so that this mutual regret of ours may not last more than a year. As to Annius Saturninus, your measures are excellent. As to the guarantee, pray, during your stay at Rome, give it yourself. You will find several guarantees on purchase, such as those of the estates of Memmius, or rather of Attilius. As to Oppius, that is exactly what I wished, and especially your having engaged to pay him the 8oo sestertia (about 6,400 pounds), which I am determined shall be paid in any case, even if I have to borrow to do so, rather than wait for the last day of getting in my own debts.
I now come to that last line of your letter written crossways, in which you give me a word of caution about your sister. The facts of the matter are these. On arriving at my place at Arpinum, my brother came to see me, and our first subject of conversation was yourself, and we discussed it at great length. After this I brought the conversation round to what you and I had discussed at Tusculum, on the subject of your sister. I never saw anything so gentle and placable as my brother was on that occasion in regard to your sister: so much so, indeed, that if there had been any cause of quarrel on the score of expense, it was not apparent. So much for that day. Next day we started from Arpinum. A country festival caused Quintus to stop at Arcanum; I stopped at Aquinum; but we lunched at Arcanum. You know his property there. When we got there Quintus said, in the kindest manner, "Pomponia, do you ask the ladies in, I will invite the men." Nothing, as I thought, could be more courteous, and that, too, not only in the actual words, but also in his intention and the expression of face. But she, in the hearing of us all, exclaimed, "I am only a stranger here! " The origin of that was, as I think, the fact that Statius had preceded us to look after the luncheon. Thereupon Quintus said to me, "There, that's what I have to put up with every day!" You will say, "Well, what does that amount to?" A great deal, and, indeed, she had irritated even me: her answer had been given with such unnecessary acrimony, both of word and look. I concealed my annoyance. We all took our places at table except her. However, Ouintus sent her dishes from the table, which she declined. In short, I thought I never saw anything better tempered than my brother, or crosser than your sister: and there were many particulars which I omit that raised my bile more than did that of Quintus himself. I then went on to Aquinum; Quintus stopped at Arcanum, and joined me early the next day at Aquinum. He told me that she had refused to sleep with him, and when on the point of leaving she behaved just as I had seen her. Need I say more? You may tell her herself that in my judgment she shewed a marked want of kindness on that day. I have told you this story at greater length, perhaps, than was necessary, to convince you that you, too, have something to do in the way of giving her instruction and advice.
- of three-halfpence, two fowls, one of which, the Indian
- “Have you a lover, Henriette, and has he ever taken you
- and low tide, and the grass that lies over at certain hours,
- And from the first of June it was closed time for hare
- He divided his small following into two parties, entrusting
- from my pocket and rattled them, to break the loneliness.
- Quiet as ever. I get up and move on, sit down and get up
- “Wait a minute — I’ll go with you,” he said, and
- heavy rain set in, which was hardly sufficient to drive
- passing within them, and what they think of me. I find
- nothing. Walking there for restlessness, perhaps, for joy;
- I said. “In winter, I come walking along, and see, perhaps,
- tables, and lifting Helen Cumberly, carried her half-way
- I sat with my back turned to the rest of the room, and
- books were several educational works; Herr Mack was a man
- and she goes off with him, full of rejoicing from top to
- and the land was wooded down to the water’s edge. In
- of her eyes that I may understand. And when she comes,
- It was a good place for me; I could lie down on the ground
- leaves rustle underfoot as I walk. The monotonous breathing
- moving westward. Then, one day, he announced that half
- “To-morrow? Yes, indeed. I shall have time enough.”
- back on the sofa and began talking about putting up a sign
- Everyone assured me laughingly that it did not matter.
- They were approaching the river, and there was a fog to-night!
- perhaps there may be a little living creature on every
- they were wings, and smiled. Then he offered me his boat
- convinced that I was right, and could not understand why
- resources were at an end; it must be another's work to
- It was a good place for me; I could lie down on the ground
- disposed towards me, mingles with my being; I love it all.
- of shooting stars in my life! And when summer comes, then
- In the afternoon we paid our respects to the governor —
- passed by my hut, and went down to Sirilund with ?sop and
- is working; the noise of it wakes me, and I stop suddenly,
- the Maybug; its humming mingled with the buzz of the night
- sought her out. She did not know that he had even better
- before long I have tracked it down again. There is always
- live on fish. I would borrow her father’s boat and row
- and milfoil already, and the chaffinches had come (I knew
- barter. Money was scarcely worth anything, but their eagerness
- I stayed. She blushed, and asked me why I had come to the
- I feel it a good deal. I sit here mostly playing patience.
- Why kill more? I lived in the woods, as a son of the woods.
- ‘beware’ for nothing.” They were soon anxious for
- I pick up a little dry twig and hold it in my hand and
- Here is a little blade of grass all a-quivering. Or if
- before known what it was to be so alone as on the first
- was anxious to examine a reported coal-mine which turned
- has one branch that makes me think of it a little, too.