Letter 5
You certainly imitate the style of Menippean Varro, but you surpass his talent. Those epigrams you've recently been composing about our contemporaries — I think they outshine even his famous "Portraits of the Week." Your work is just as sober, yet more polished; his, though struck in good metal, never got the final buffing.
And you're tackling harder material, if I'm not mistaken. Varro wrote about Pythagoras, who first argued that souls are eternal; about Plato, who made the case for the gods; about Aristotle, who reduced the art of speaking well to a system; about the poor but commanding Curius; about the stern Catos, the Fabian clan, the glory of the Scipios, and that whole triumphal Senate — and he covered them all with restrained praise. You, by contrast, are illuminating the living figures of our own age. It's a difficult feat to add luster to modest subjects.
You ask me to append a few verses of my own to yours. But your own Horace wouldn't approve — not if we follow that opening principle of his Poetic Art: "Don't stick a horse's neck on a human head." I'd rather displease you by stubbornly refusing the task than by recklessly attempting it.
We'll discuss this further in person, since I plan to follow this letter closely — or catch up with it. In the meantime, carry on with what you've started and be generous with that brilliant eloquence of yours. As for me: I may deny you the service of my tongue, but I'll gladly lend you my ears. Farewell.
Modern English rendering for readability. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek for scholarly use.
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