The next day all Rome knew the poem by heart. And it was a cowardly, blackguard thing to do, and I shall _never_ speak to him again as long as I live, and I shall _never_, _never_ let him come into my house again. Not being a gentleman he can’t know what one feels about those kind of things. He is thoroughly second-rate and coarse to the core, although he oughtn’t to be. Of course, I really don’t care a bit. Only if Lalage writes and tells you about it, don’t believe a word she says. I hate Catullus. I must stop now. Your loving CLODIA. _P.S._--Lalage had the impertinence to say that I ought to make allowance for men of genius. As if Catullus was a genius! I asked Cicero (who likes him) if his poetry was really good, and he said that, to be honest, it was a _bad_ imitation of Calvus’s and his own, only that it was very good for an amateur. _P.P.S._--Julius Caesar is coming to stay with us next Saturday, if he can get away. Don’t forget the Persian silk, the palest shade, six and a half yards. CLEOPATRA AT ROME _Letter from Charmian, at Alexandria, to her friend Chloe, at Baiae, 44 B.C._ It all came so suddenly. I never thought that I should leave Rome without seeing you again and without being able to say farewell. Even now I cannot believe that it is true and that the whole thing is not a dream. I keep on thinking that I shall wake up and find myself once more by the banks of the Tiber, sitting in the shade of the terebinths, listening to the amusing discussions of Atticus, Cicero, and Caesar.