had a really recherché dinner. In fact, I shewed that I was somebody. However, he is not a guest to whom one would say, "Pray look me up again on your way back." Once is enough. We didn't say a word about politics. There was plenty of literary talk. In short, he was pleased and enjoyed himself. He said he should stay one day at Puteoli, another at Baiæ. That's the story of the entertainment, or I might call it the billeting on me—trying to the temper, but not seriously inconvenient. I am staying on here for a short time and then go to Tusculum. When he was passing Dolabella's villa, the whole guard formed up on the right and left of his horse, and nowhere else.[1] This I was told by Nicias.
DCLXXVII (F IX, 12)
TO P. CORNELIUS DOLABELLA (AT BAIÆ)
Puteoli (December)
I congratulate our favourite Baiæ on its becoming, as
you say, a healthy place; unless perchance it is fond of
and flatters you and, so long as you are there, has forgotten
its usual habits. If that is really so, it doesn't at all surprise
me that sky and land are foregoing their usual evil effects.
My poor little speech for Deiotarus, for which you asked, I have with me, though I thought I had not. Accordingly I am sending it to you. Please read it with the understanding that it is a slight and weak case and not much worthy of being committed to writing. But I wished to send an old host and friend a small present—of loose texture and coarse thread—as his own presents usually are.[2] As for yourself, I
- ↑ This was apparently a sort of salute of honour to Dolabella, who was at this time irritated about the consulship for B.C. 44. Caesar had, it seems, promised it him, but now meant to take the first three months of it himself (2 Phil. § 79). See the next letter.
- ↑ Apparently native cloths or textures sent as presents to his friends at Rome.
