1Albius, honest critic of my satires, what am I to say you are doing now in the region of Pedum? 3Writing something to outdo the little works of Cassius of Parma, or creeping silently among the healthful woods, caring for whatever is worthy of a wise and good man? 6You were never a body without a heart: the gods gave you beauty, the gods gave you riches and the art of enjoying them. 8What greater thing could a nurse pray for her sweet charge than that he be able to be wise and to speak what he feels, and that favour, fame and health should come to him abundantly, and a decent table with a purse that never runs dry?
12Amid hope and anxiety, amid fears and angers, believe that every day that has dawned for you is your last; the hour which is not hoped for will come as welcome. 15As for me, when you want a laugh, you will come and find me fat and sleek with well-tended skin, a pig from Epicurus' herd.