Letter 35

Your letter reached me at Capua and gave me pure delight. It had a charm spread like Ciceronian honey, and its praise of my own writing was flattering — if not entirely accurate. I honestly can't decide what to admire more: the beauty of your language or the kindness of your heart. Your eloquence is so far above everyone else's that it's intimidating to write back. And yet you approve of my work so generously that silence feels impossible. If I praised you at length, I'd look like I was scratching your back — imitating the form of your compliments rather than honestly assessing them.

Merum mihi gaudium eruditionis tuae scripta tribuerunt, quae Capuae locatus accepi. erat quippe in his oblita TuUiano melle festivitas et sermonis mei non tam vera, quam blanda laudatio. quid igitur magis mirer, sententiae incertus addubito, 25 omamenta oris an pectoris tui. quippe ita facundia antistas oeteris, ut sit formido rescribere, ita benigne nostra conprobas, ut libeat non tacere. si plura de te prae- dicem, videbor mutuum scabere et magis imitator tui esse alloquii, quam probator.