A soldier of Lucullus, [having run through] a great many hardships, was robbed of his collected stock to a penny, as he lay snoring in the night quite fatigued:  after this, like a ravenous wolf, equally exasperated at himself and the enemy, eager, with his hungry fangs, he beat off a royal guard from a post (as they report) very strongly fortified, and well supplied with stores.  Famous on account of this exploit, he is adorned with honorable rewards, and receives twenty thousand sesterces into the bargain.  It happened about this time that his officer being inclined to batter down a certain fort, began to encourage the same man, with words that might even have given courage to a coward:  “Go, my brave fellow, whither your valor calls you:  go with prosperous step, certain to receive ample rewards for your merit.  Why do you hesitate?” Upon this, he arch, though a rustic:  “He who has lost his purse, will go whither you wish,” says he.

It was my lot to have Rome for my nurse, and to be instructed [from the Iliad] how much the exasperated Achilles prejudiced the Greeks.  Good Athens give me some additional learning:  that is to say, to be able to distinguish a right line from a curve, and seek after truth in the groves of Academus.  But the troublesome times removed me from that pleasant spot; and the tide of a civil war carried me away, unexperienced as I was, into arms, [into arms] not likely to be a match for the sinews of Augustus Caesar.  Whence, as soon as [the battle of] Philippi dismissed me in an abject condition, with my wings clipped, and destitute both of house and land, daring poverty urged me on to the composition of verses:  but now, having more than is wanted, what medicines would be efficacious enough to cure my madness, if I did not think it better to rest than to write verses.

The advancing years rob us of every thing:  they have taken away my mirth, my gallantry, my revelings, and play:  they are now proceeding to force poetry from me.  What would you have me do?

In short, all persons do not love and admire the same things.  Ye delight in the ode:  one man is pleased with iambics; another with satires written in the manner of Bion, and virulent wit.  Three guests scarcely can be found to agree, craving very different dishes with various palate.  What shall I give?  What shall I not give?  You forbid, what another demands:  what you desire, that truly is sour and disgustful to the [other] two.

Beside other [difficulties], do you think it practicable for me to write poems at Rome, amid so many solicitudes and so many fatigues?  One calls me as his security, another to hear his works, all business else apart; one lives on the mount of Quirinus, the other in the extremity of the Aventine; both must be waited on.  The distances between them, you see, are charmingly commodious.  “But the streets are clear, so that there can be no obstacle to the thoughtful.”—­A builder in heat hurries along with his mules and porters: