To Julian. (356 AD)
I was glad to see Ablabius for many reasons, not least because he brought me a letter from you. We will sooner hate ourselves than find any fault with you — so thoroughly have you made it your practice to advance our interests. You are already fighting a regular war, and a long one, out of your refusal to tolerate anyone speaking ill of me.
And yet you ought to know how to laugh and to forgive those who slander one man in order to flatter another. They live by flattery — it is their livelihood, as rowing is the sailor's.
As for that wise fellow whose character Ablabius described to us but whose name he could not supply — in other respects he did not trouble me, but this one thing stung: that in mentioning me he committed solecisms, and I, who had done nothing wrong, found myself caught in the middle of his barbarisms.
So persuade him first to learn not to make such errors, and only then to speak ill of me. Or perhaps once he's learned, he won't speak ill at all — but for now the man is a whole arena of blunders. And if his abuse of you annoys you and you'd like a fitting punishment, nothing could be easier: shut your doors to him at dinner, tell him to eat at home, and seek no greater revenge. As things stand, he grows insolent from stuffing himself and drinks your wine against you.
So punish his unruly tongue in this way — and do let me know what his name actually is, so that when I compose a panegyric in his honor, the man won't be praised anonymously.
I was glad to see Ablabius for many reasons, not least because he brought me a letter from you. We will sooner hate ourselves than find any fault with you — so thoroughly have you made it your practice to advance our interests. You are already fighting a regular war, and a long one, out of your refusal to tolerate anyone speaking ill of me.
And yet you ought to know how to laugh and to forgive those who slander one man in order to flatter another. They live by flattery — it is their livelihood, as rowing is the sailor's.
As for that wise fellow whose character Ablabius described to us but whose name he could not supply — in other respects he did not trouble me, but this one thing stung: that in mentioning me he committed solecisms, and I, who had done nothing wrong, found myself caught in the middle of his barbarisms.
So persuade him first to learn not to make such errors, and only then to speak ill of me. Or perhaps once he's learned, he won't speak ill at all — but for now the man is a whole arena of blunders. And if his abuse of you annoys you and you'd like a fitting punishment, nothing could be easier: shut your doors to him at dinner, tell him to eat at home, and seek no greater revenge. As things stand, he grows insolent from stuffing himself and drinks your wine against you.
So punish his unruly tongue in this way — and do let me know what his name actually is, so that when I compose a panegyric in his honor, the man won't be praised anonymously.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.