But I am going too far. I forgot that I am writing to you. However, let me assure you of this, that not only I, who am not in his confidence, but even the leader himself is unable to say what is going to happen. For, while we are his slaves, he is a slave to circumstances: and so neither can he possibly be sure of what circumstances will demand, nor we of what he is designing. The reason that I did not send you this answer before was not because I am usually idle, especially in the matter of writing, but because, as I had no certainty about anything, I did not choose to cause you either anxiety from the hesitation, or hope from the confidence of my words. However, I will add this, which is the most absolute truth, that during the present crisis I have not heard a word about the danger you mention.[1] In any case you will be bound, like the man of sense that you are, to hope for the best, prepare yourself for the worst, and bear whatever happens.
CCCCLXXIX (F IX, 15)
TO L. PAPIRIUS PÆTUS (AT NAPLES)
Rome (September)
I will answer two letters of yours: one which I received
four days ago from Zethus, a second which your letter-carrier
Phileros brought. From your former letter I gathered that
you were much gratified by my anxiety about your health,
and I rejoice that you have been convinced of it.[2] But,
believe me, you will never see it in its full reality from
a letter. For though I perceive that I am being sought
out and liked by a considerable number of people—a
thing it is impossible for me to deny—there is not one
of them all nearer to my heart than yourself. For that you
