Posteritati

Et de primo quidem varie erunt hominum voces; ita enim ferme quisque loquitur, ut impellit non veritas sed voluptas: nec laudis nec infamie modus est. Vestro de grege unus fui autem, mortalis homuncio, nec magne admodum nec vilis originis, familia — ut de se ait Augustus Cesar — antiqua, natura quidem non iniquo neque inverecundo animo, nisi ei consuetudo contagiosa nocuisset.

On the first question, men's voices will differ; for almost everyone speaks as he is driven, not by truth but by pleasure, and there is no measure either in praise or in blame. I was, though, one of your own flock: a little mortal man, of an origin neither very high nor low, of a family — as Augustus Caesar says of himself — that was old; by nature not of an unjust or shameless mind, had not the contagion of habit done it harm.

Ingenio fui equo potius quam acuto, ad omne bonum et salubre studium apto, sed ad moralem precipue philosophiam et ad poeticam prono; quam ipse processu temporis neglexi, sacris literis delectatus, in quibus sensi dulcedinem abditam, quam aliquando contempseram, poeticis literis non nisi ad ornatum reservatis. Incubui unice, inter multa, ad notitiam vetustatis, quoniam michi semper etas ista displicuit; ut, nisi me amor carorum in diversum traheret, qualibet etate natus esse semper optaverim, et hanc oblivisci, nisus animo me aliis semper inserere. Historicis itaque delectatus sum; non minus tamen offensus eorum discordia, secutus in dubio quo me vel veri similitudo rerum vel scribentium traxit autoritas.

My mind was balanced rather than sharp, fit for every good and wholesome study, but drawn above all to moral philosophy and to poetry. In the course of time I let poetry go, delighting in sacred letters, in which I found a hidden sweetness I had once despised, and keeping poetic letters only for ornament. Among many things I gave myself above all to knowing antiquity, because this age of ours always displeased me; so that, if the love of those dear to me had not pulled me the other way, I would always have wished to be born in any other age, and to forget this one, striving always in spirit to set myself among others. So I took delight in the historians; though I was no less troubled by their disagreements, and where in doubt I followed wherever the likelihood of the facts or the authority of the writers led me.

Eloquio, ut quidam dixerunt, claro ac potenti; ut michi visum est, fragili et obscuro. Neque vero in comuni sermone cum amicis aut familiaribus eloquentie unquam cura me attigit; mirorque eam curam Augustum Cesarem suscepisse. Ubi autem res ipsa vel locus vel auditor aliter poscere visus est, paulo annisus sum; idque quam efficaciter, nescio: eorum sit iudicium coram quibus dixi. Ego, modo bene vixissem, qualiter dixissem parvi facerem: ventosa gloria est de solo verborum splendore famam querere.

My speech, some have said, was clear and strong; to me it seemed frail and obscure. In ordinary talk with friends and those close to me, care for eloquence never touched me, and I wonder that Augustus Caesar took that trouble. But where the matter itself, or the place, or the listener seemed to ask for something else, I made a little effort; how well, I do not know: let those before whom I spoke be the judges. For my part, if only I had lived well, I would think little of how I had spoken. It is a windy glory that seeks fame from the shine of words alone.