At Ostia laden with black Spanish wool:
Send that to the factor. That’s all: but remember
Our bailiff from Nomentum comes this afternoon:
He is short of hands. Mind he pick sturdy fellows;
And check the ration-bills to correspond.
Now lastly, love, I want five hundred copies
Made of my letters to Lucilius.
Bid the clerks set routine aside for this;
’Tis for the provinces. I am pleased, my love,
To think how good the work is; and ’tis new: