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I do not wish to preach your virtues to you; you recognize them well enough, you who bear the envy they provoke. The time will come when a wondrous posterity will inquire into your character and will recount as examples what your own age did not know of you. Thus, virtue will reclaim the reward it granted you from your own life, and you will extort from the truth the praises that others have sought from fortune. No mortal will say that I am being flattering, once they have known you or me, for whatever is said of you will always be less than the truth. But you do not place much value on those who admire false praise, for you possess all true ones; nor does the state of my fortune force me to be a sycophant, nor does any desire for glory among you incite me. For, established in a modest fortune, I can do without other safeguards, and any glory—whatever it may be—will always be inferior to my efforts and to my most propense goodwill toward you, for which I offer and dedicate this booklet as a monument and pledge. If you do not approve of the gift, you will certainly not disapprove of the giver's spirit. Farewell, most illustrious of men; and continue, as you do, to cherish literature.