I send this with love, my dearest Terentia, hoping that you and my
little Tullia and my Marcus are all well.
From the letters of several people and the talk of everybody I hear that
your courage and endurance are simply wonderful, and that no troubles of
body or mind can exhaust your energy. How unhappy I am to think that
with all your courage and devotion, your virtues and gentleness, you
should have fallen into such misfortunes for me! And my sweet Tullia
too,--that she who was once so proud of her father should have to
undergo such troubles owing to him! And what shall I say about my boy
Marcus, who ever since his faculties of perception awoke has felt the
sharpest pangs of sorrow and misery? Now could I but think, as you tell
me, that all this comes in the natural course of things, I could bear it
a little easier. But it has been brought about entirely by my own fault,
for thinking myself loved by those who were jealous of me, and turning
from those who wanted to win me.... I have thanked the people you wanted
me to, and mentioned that my information came from you. As to the block
of houses which you tell me you mean to sell--why, good heavens! my dear
Terentia, what _is_ to be done! Oh, what troubles I have to bear! And if
misfortune continues to persecute us, what will become of our poor boy?
I cannot continue to write--my tears are too much for me; nor would I
wish to betray you into the same emotion. All I can say is that if our
friends act up to their bounden duty we shall not want for money; if
they do not, you will not be able to succeed only with your own. Let our
unhappy fortunes, I entreat you, be a warning to us not to ruin our
boy, who is ruined enough already. If he only has something to save him
from absolute want, a fair share of talent and a fair share of luck will
be all that is necessary to win anything else. Do not neglect your
health; and send me messengers with letters to let me know what goes on,
and how you yourselves are faring. My suspense in any case cannot now be
long. Give my love to my little Tullia and my Marcus.
DYRRACHIUM, Nov. 26.
P.S.--I have moved to Dyrrachium because it is not only a free city, but
very much in my interest, and quite near to Italy; but if the bustle of
the place proves an annoyance I shall betake myself elsewhere and give
you notice.