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 exist, but by all who shall live after our day. I owe therefore, as I said, a debt of gratitude to you for the poem; and in writing this composition at my desire you have gratified the present and future generations. But as for me and mine—your letter revealed some such intention—I beg you by the God of friendship and by the social hearth to make no mention of me at all in your poetry for evil—if such I was—or for good. My fate has given to my name a discordant sound. Let Phalaris be written in the heart of Stesichorus, whether your idea of him be better than the report which prevails among men, or the reverse.

I wrote, as you asked, to Stesichorus about the elegy, and suggested the proper style; and he gladly granted me at the prompting of his own nature more than I asked, thinking that his art would be a consolation to you in your sorrow. Your loss, indeed, admits of little consolation; it is too heavy to be lightened by words—a twofold bereavement and under