1Do you ask how this reached me, who told me that you were thinking of what you had told no one? 1The one who knows the most: rumour. 1'What then?' 1you say. 'Am I so important that I can stir up rumour?' 1There is no reason why you should measure yourself by looking back to this place; 1look to the place where you are staying. 2Whatever stands out among its neighbours is great there, where it stands out. 2For greatness has no fixed measure; 2comparison either raises it or lowers it. 2A ship which is large on a river is very small on the sea. 2A rudder which is large for one ship is tiny for another.
3You are now, in your province, a great man, though you may despise yourself. 3What you do, how you dine, how you sleep, is asked about and known; 3all the more carefully, then, must you live. 3But only judge yourself happy when you can live in public, when your walls will cover you, not conceal you, walls which we generally believe are built around us not so that we may live more safely but so that we may sin more secretly. 4I shall tell you something from which you may judge our morals: you will scarcely find anyone who can live with his door open. 4It is our conscience, not our pride, that has set doorkeepers in the way; 4we live in such a way that to be suddenly seen is to be caught.
4But what use is it to hide oneself and shun the eyes and ears of men? 5A good conscience calls in the crowd; a bad one is anxious and troubled even in solitude. 5If what you do is honourable, let everyone know it; if it is shameful, what does it matter that no one knows, when you know? 5How wretched you are if you despise this witness! 5Farewell.