Letter 102.2

I give in. You have won. In loving, you have plainly beaten every lover who has ever lived. Take the crown, and let the herald proclaim your victory aloud before the tribunal: Marcus Cornelius Fronto, consul, wins and is crowned in the contest of the Great Games of Friendship. Yet even though I am defeated, I shall not retreat or fail in my devotion. So you, my teacher, will love me more than any person has ever loved another; and I, who have less force in loving, will love you more than anyone else loves you, and more even than you love yourself. Now I shall have a contest with Gratia, and I fear I may not be able to surpass her. In her case, as Plautus says, "the rain of love has not merely soaked her dress with heavy drops; it has flowed on into her very marrow." What a letter you must think you wrote to me. I would dare to say that even the woman who bore and nursed me never wrote me anything so delightful or so sweet. This is not because of your fluency or eloquence. By that measure not only my mother but everyone alive would yield the palm to you at once. No, that letter of yours to me was not learned or showy; it overflowed with kindness, affection, and love. I cannot adequately say how it lifted my heart high with joy, stirred it with the most burning longing, and, as Naevius says, filled it with overpowering love. Your other letter, explaining why you would postpone the Senate speech in praise of my lord, gave me such pleasure that I could not stop myself, rashly or not, from reading it aloud to my father himself. I need not describe how much it delighted him, since you know both his great goodwill toward you and the exceptional grace of your letter. From it, however, there arose between us a long conversation about you, far longer than the conversation you and your quaestor had about me. So your ears too must have been ringing in the forum at about the same time. My lord approves and loves the reasons for which you have put off your recitation to a later day. [The rest is lost.]

most honourable consul, Fronto. 1. I give in, you have won: beyond question you have conquered in loving all lovers that have ever lived. Take the wreath and let the herald, too, proclaim in the ears of all before your tribunal this your victory— M. Cornelius Fronto, consul, is the winner . He is crowned in the contest of the Great Friendship-Games . Yet, though vanquished, will I not falter or fail in my devotion. Therefore shall you indeed, my master, love me more than any of men loves any man, while I, who have less energy in loving, will love you more than anyone else loves you, more, in fact, than you love yourself. I see I shall have a competitor in Gratia, and I fear that I may not be able to surpass her. For, as Plautus says, in her case, "not only has the rain of love drenched her dress with its thunder-drops, but soaked into her very marrow." 2. If you only knew what a letter you have written me! I could venture to say that she who bore me and nursed me, even she never wrote me anything so delightful, so honeyed. Nor is this due to your word-mastery or eloquence, for apply that test and not my mother only but all that breathe would, as they do, yield the palm at once to you. But I cannot express in words how that letter of yours to me, not for its eloquence or learning, but bubbling up as it does with so much kindness, brimful of such affection, sparkling with so much love, has lifted my heart up to the heavens, inspired it with the most glowing fondness, in a word, as Naevius says, filled it with a love transcendent . 3. That other letter of yours, in which you pointed out why you were going to put off the delivery of the speech in the Senate in which you intend to eulogize my Lord, delighted me so much that—forgive me if I was too hasty—I could not refrain from reading it aloud to my father himself. I need not dwell on the pleasure it gave him, for you know his entire good-will towards you and the matchless felicity of your letter. But from this occasion arose a long talk between us about you, much, much longer than yours and your quaestor's about me. So your ears too must have been tingling about that time in the forum. My Lord, then, quite approves and sympathizes with your reasons for putting off the delivery of your speech till later . . . .

ad M. Caesarem 2.5 [25 Hout; 1.112 Haines] Mi Fronto consul amplissime 1 Manus do: Vicisti. Tu plane omnis qui umquam amatores fuerunt vicisti amando. Cape coronam atque etiam praeco pronuntiet palam pro tribunali victoriam istam tuam: Μ. Κορνήλιος Φρόντων ὕπατος νικᾷ, στεφανοῦται τὸν ἀγῶνα τῶν μεγάλων φιλοτησίων. At ego quamquam superatus tamen nihil de mea prothymia decesssero aut defecero. Igitur tu quidem me magis amabis quam ullus hominum ullum hominem amat; ego vero te, qui minorem vim in amando possideo, magis amabo quam ullus hominum te amat, magis denique quam tu temet ipsum amas. Jam mihi cum Cratia certamen erit quam timeo ut superare possim. Nam illius quidem, ut Plautus ait, “amoris imber grandibus guttis non vestem modo permanavit sed in medullam ultro fluit”. 2 Quas tu litteras te ad me existimas scripsisse! Ausim dicere quae me genuit atque aluit nihil umquam tam jucundum tamque mellitum eam ad me scripsisse. Neque hoc fit facundia aut eloquentia: Alioqui non modo mater mea sed omnes qui spirant quod faciunt confestim tibi cesserint. Sed istae litterae ad me tuae neque disertae neque doctae, tanta benignitate scatentes, tanta adfectione abundantes, tanto amore lucentes, non satis proloqui possum ut animum meum gaudio in altum sustulerint, desiderio fraglantissimo incitaverint, postremo, quod ait Naevius, “animum amore capitali conpleverint”. 3 Illa alia epistula tua, qua indicabas cur tardius orationem qua laudaturus es dominum meum in senatu prolaturus esses, tanta me voluptate adfecit ut temperare non potuerim (et videris tu an temere fecerim), quin eam ipsi patri meo recitarem. Quanto opere autem eum juverit, nihil me oportet persequi quom tu et illius summam benevolentiam et tuarum litterarum egregiam elegantiam noris. Sed ex ea re longus sermo nobis super te exortus est, multo multoque longior quam tibi et quaestori tuo de me. Itaque nec tibi dubito ibidem in foro diu tinnisse auriculas. Conprobat igitur dominus meus et amat causas propter quas recitationem tuam in longiorem diem protulisti <“--quattuor paginae desunt--”>