Letter 59

Greetings, my best teacher. Am I really to study while you are in pain, especially when you are in pain because of me? Should I not punish myself of my own accord with every hardship? By Hercules, I would deserve it. Who else stirred up that pain in your knee, which you write grew worse last night, who else but Centumcellae, not to mention myself? What then am I to do, when I cannot see you and am tortured by such anxiety? Add to this that, even if I wanted to study, the courts prevent it; according to people who know, they consume whole days. Still, I have sent you today's maxim and the commonplace from the day before yesterday. Yesterday we spent the whole day on the road. Today it is hard to do anything beyond the evening maxim. "Do you sleep through such long nights?" you ask. I can sleep, yes, for I sleep a great deal; but there is so much cold in my room that one can hardly put a hand out from under the covers. In truth, the thing that most drove my mind away from study was this: by loving literature too much, I made things harder for you at the Harbor, as the outcome showed. So farewell to all the Catos, Ciceros, and Sallusts, as long as you are well and I can see you strong, even without books. Farewell, my chief joy, sweetest teacher. My Lady greets you. Send me three maxims and three commonplaces.

? 140–143 A.D. , my best of masters. What, am I to study while you are in pain, above all in pain on my account? Shall I not of my own accord punish myself with every kind of penance? It were only right, by Hercules. For who else brought on that pain in the knee, which you write was worse last night, who else if not Centumcellae, not to mention myself? What then shall I do, who cannot see you and am racked with such anxiety? Besides, however much I might be minded to study, the courts forbid it, which, as those say who know, will take up whole days. Still I send you to-day's maxim and the day-before-yesterday's commonplace. The whole day yesterday we spent on the road. To-day it is hard to find time for anything but the evening maxim. Do you sleep, say you, the livelong night? Aye, I can sleep, for I am a great sleeper; but it is so cold in my room that I can scarcely put my hand outside the bed-clothes. But in good sooth what most of all put my mind off study was the thought that by my undue fondness for literature I did you an ill turn at the Harbour, as the event shewed. And so farewell to all Catos and Ciceros and Sallusts, as long as you fare well and I see you, though with never a book, established in health. Farewell, my chief joy, sweetest of masters. My Lady greets you. Send me three maxims and commonplaces.

ad M. Caesarem 5.74 [85 Hout; 1.52 Haines] Have mi magister optime. 1 Egone ut studeam, cum tu doleas, praesertim cum mea causa doleas? Non me omnibus incommodis sponte ipse adflictem? Merito hercule. Quis enim tibi alius dolorem genus, quem scribis nocte proxuma auctum, quis alius cum suscitavit nisi Centum Cellae, ne me dicam? Quid igitur faciam, qui nec te video et tanto angore discrucior? Adde eo quod, etiamsi libeat studere, judicia prohibent, quae, ut dicunt, qui sciunt, dies totos eximunt. Misi tamen tibi hodiernam γνώμην et nudiustertianum locum communem. Heri totum diem in itinere adtrivimus. Hodie difficile est, ut praeter vespertinam γνώμην quicquam agi possit. “Nocte”, inquis, “tam longa dormis?” et dormire quidem possum; nam sum multi somni. Sed tantum frigoris est in cubiculo meo, ut manus vix exseri possit. Sed revera illa res maxime mihi animum a studiis depulit, quod, dum ninium litteras amo, tibi incommodius apud Portum fui, ut res ostendit. Itaque valeant omnes Porci et Tulli et Crispi, dum tu valeas et te vel sine libris firmum tamen videam. 3 Vale praecipuum meum gaudium, magister dulcissime. Domina mea te salutat. γνώμας tres et locos communes mitte.