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I have thought it better to be neglected than to fawn, to be dumb

than to feign, to be seldom a friend than to be often a

flatterer. I have sought little, deserved not little. So far as I

could, I have assisted each according to my means. I have given

help readily to the deserving, fearlessly to the undeserving. No

one by proving to be ungrateful has made me more slow to bestow

promptly all benefits I could give, nor have I ever been harsh to

ingratitude. (A fragmentary passage follows, in which he appears

to speak of his desire for a peaceful end, and the desolation of

his house.) I have suffered long and painful sickness, my beloved

Marcus. Then I was visited by pitiful misfortunes: my wife I have

lost, my grandson I have lost in Germany:[46] woe is me! I have

lost my Decimanus. If I were made of iron, at this tine I could

write no more.'

[46] In the war against the Catti.