of his reading. Not until then do they enter the room, and even then
they come in slowly and languidly. Nor do they sit it out; no, before
the close of the recital they slip away, some sidling out so as not to
attract attention, others rising openly and walking out boldly. And
yet, by Hercules, our fathers tell a story of how Claudius Caesar one
day, while walking up and down in the palace, happened to hear some
clapping of hands, and on inquiring the cause and being told that
Nonianus was giving a reading, he suddenly joined the company to every
one's surprise. But nowadays even those who have most time on their
hands, after receiving early notices and frequent reminders, either fail
to put in an appearance, or if they do come they complain that they have
wasted a day just because they have not wasted it. All the more praise
and credit, therefore, is due to those who do not allow their love of
writing and reciting to be damped either by the laziness or the
fastidiousness of their audiences. For my own part, I have hardly ever
failed to attend. True, the authors are mostly my friends, for almost
all the literary people are also friends of mine, and for this reason I
have spent more time in Rome than I had intended. But now I can betake
myself to my country retreat and compose something, though not for a
public recital, lest those whose readings I attended should think I went
not so much to hear their works as to get a claim on them to come and
hear mine. As in everything else, if you lend a man your ears, all the
grace of the act vanishes if you ask for his in return. Farewell.


1.XIV.--TO JUNIUS MAURICUS.

You ask me to look out for a husband for your brother's daughter, and
you do well to select me for such a commission. For you know how I
looked up to him, and what an affection I had for his splendid