ear friend, how much I enjoy the military
life I have not witnessed for so long. I understand little about it,
but the pomp and pride and power of war stir me very strongly.

It is a pleasure to see the rule of a man like Saturninus. He cannot
scan a verse of Alcaeus, but he knows how to arrange a camp according to
the demands and advantages of the location, better than I can write an
Alcaean strophe. Here, on this steep hillside in the midst of the
Barbarian forests, he had applied Frontinus's rules to the given space
most admirably. It would please an old soldier like you to see our
camp, the strength of wall and moat, the arrangement of the spaces
between the tents, the distribution of horse and foot-soldiers,
luggage, and camp followers.

III. BEFORE THE KALENDS OF SEPTEMBER.

And why should you not see it? For what purpose has Athene or the
clever Ph[oe]nicians taught us the art of writing? I begged Saturninus
to dictate to his fat slave scribe a sketch of our whole camp, with all
the points important for defence and the distribution of our troops. I
will put it on the papyrus.

How stately is the entrance! Four squadrons of mailed warriors at the
Porta Decumana, and all the baggage also piled up there. The wall eight
feet high; the ditch five feet deep. The weakest point is the northwest
corner, so the best troops are there: Batavian and spearmen of the
Emperor's Thracian Guard: etc.

I will not repeat here in detail what the inclosure will contain; but
the paper is not yet finished. He has taken it away to make the drawing
more accurate.

II. BEFORE THE KALENDS OF SEPTEMBER.

Ah, what avails dissimulation, playing hide and seek with myself? If
you drive her out with a pitchfork, Nature will always return, says the
Bandusian fellow. I am trying to make you--and myself--believe that my
thoughts are on ditch and wall and mailed soldiers. It is not true. I
think only of the little maid. Her image alone hovers before my eyes
day and night. It is already half decided that you shall see her.

When this expedition is over, I at any rate shall return to Gaul,
perhaps the whole army; for the Emperor Valens seems to be able to deal
with the Goths without needing our aid; he does not ask for us. Then I
can take the little maid as my guest for a short visit to Burdigala.

True, she is still considered the Tribune's slave. It is an odd
caprice of the valiant soldier. No, no, my