There are yet remaining {Fables} for me to write, but I purposely abstain; first, that I may not seem troublesome to you, whom a multiplicity of matters distract; and next, that, if perchance any other person is desirous to make a like attempt, he may still have something left to do; although there is so abundant a stock of matter that an artist will be wanting to the work, not work to the artist. I request that you will give the reward to my brevity which you promised; make good your word. For life each day is nearer unto death; and the greater the time that is wasted in delays, the less the advantage that will accrue to me. If you dispatch the matter quickly, the more lasting will be {my} enjoyment; the sooner I receive {your favours}, the longer shall I have the benefit {thereof}. While there are yet some remnants of a wearied life,[43] there is room for {your} goodness; in aftertimes your kindness will in vain endeavour to aid me, infirm with old age; for then I shall have ceased to be able to enjoy your kindness, and death, close at hand, will be claiming its due. I deem it foolish to address my entreaties to you, when your compassion is so ready, spontaneously, to render assistance. A criminal has often gained pardon by confessing; how much more reasonably ought it to be granted to the innocent? It is your province[44] {now to judge of my cause}; it will fall to others by-and-by; and again by a like revolution, the turn of others will come. Pronounce the sentence, as religion--as your oath permits; and give me reason to rejoice in your decision. My feelings have passed the limits they had proposed; but the mind is with difficulty restrained, which, conscious of unsullied integrity, is exposed to the insults of spiteful men. “Who are they?” you will ask: they will be seen in time. For my part, so long as I shall continue in my senses, I shall take care to recollect that “it is a dangerous thing for a man of humble birth to murmur in public.[45]” [Footnote III.42: This and the following Prologue seem better suited to their present places than to the close of the Fourth Book, where in most of the editions they appear.] [Footnote III.43: _Of a wearied life_)--Ver. 15. It is impossible to say with any certainty to what he refers; but the most probable conjecture is that he has again got into trouble through his compositions, and is begging Eutychus, in some public capacity, immediately to give a favourable decision in his behalf. That “Languens ævum” means a life worn out with misfortune, and does not refer to himself as sinking, in want, under old age, is evident from the next line. It has been conjectured by some that Phædrus wrote these lines in prison, where he had been thrown through the malice of his enemies.]