Page:Correspondence of Marcus Cornelius Fronto volume 1 Haines 1919.djvu/249

 ? 144–145 A.D.

, my sweetest of masters.

At last the messenger is starting, and at last I can send you my three days' budget of news. But I cannot say anything, to such an extent have I exhausted my breath by dictating nearly thirty letters. For as to your last opinion on the question of letters, I have not yet broached the matter to my father. But when we come, God willing, to Rome, remind me to tell you something on this matter. But you and I are so much up in the clouds that neither will you remind me nor I tell you: and yet, indeed, it really needs consideration. Farewell, my—what shall I say when whatever I say is inadequate?—farewell my longing, my light, my delight.

? 144–145 A.D.

To my master, greeting.

Your brother but now brought me the good news of your arrival. Heaven knows I long for you to be able to come, if only your health will allow of it, for I hope that the sight of you may do something for my health also. Sweet 'tis to look into a friend's kind eyes, as Euripides, I take it, says. My present condition you can easily gauge by the shakiness of my handwriting. As far as my strength is concerned, it is certainly beginning to come back. The pain in my chest, too, is quite gone; but the ulcer the trachea. I am under treatment and taking every care that nothing militates 185