However in this business he excites my laughter rather than my rage, and evidently he does not consider sufficiently what he writes and to whom.

The young Quintus, I fancy, yes I am sure, read your letter addressed to his father, for he usually opens his father’s letters—and that by my advice—in case there is anything he ought to know. The letter contained that same passage about your sister that you wrote to me. The boy was awfully upset. He

mecum est questus. Quid quaeris? miram in eo pietatem, suavitatem humanitatemque perspexi. Quo maiorem spem habeo nihil fore aliter, ac deceat. Id te igitur scire volui.

Ne illud quidem praetermittam. Hortensius filius fuit Laodiceae gladiatoribus flagitiose et turpiter. Hunc ego patris causa vocavi ad cenam, quo die venit, et eiusdem patris causa nihil amplius. Is mihi dixit se Athenis me exspectaturum, ut mecum decederet. “Recte,” inquam; quid enim dicerem? Omnino puto nihil esse, quod dixit; nolo quidem, ne offendam patrem, quem mehercule multum diligo. Sin fuerit meus comes, moderabor ita, ne quid eum offendam, quem minime volo.

Haec sunt; etiam illud. Orationem Q. Celeris mihi velim mittas contra M. Servilium. Litteras mitte quam primum; si nihil, nihil fieri vel per tuum tabellarium. Piliae et filiae salutem. Cura, ut valeas.

IV
CICERO ATTICO SAL.

Scr. in itinere paulo post Non. Iun. a. 704

Tarsum venimus Nonis Iuniis. Ibi me multa moverunt, magnum in Syria bellum, magna in Cilicia latrocinia, mihi difficilis ratio administrandi, quod paucos dies habebam reliquos annui muneris, illud autem difficillimum, relinquendus erat ex senatus consulto,

came to me complaining in tears. I saw much good feeling in him, and a kind and courteous disposition, which increases my hope for a satisfactory issue to the matter: so I want you to know it.

There is one thing I must not pass over. The young Hortensius, during the gladiatorial exhibition at Laodicea, behaved in a shameful and scandalous way. For his father’s sake I invited him to my table on the day of his arrival, and for the same father’s sake treated him handsomely.[[219]] He said that he would await my departure in Athens, that we might go home together. I could only say, “Very well.” But I don’t fancy at all that he meant what he said. I hope not, lest I offend his father, who is my very good friend. But if he comes in my suite, I will arrange so as to avoid offence to a man I don’t want to offend.