They bestow upon us immortality. Once, there were foolish, ignorant, and greedy princes who might have let poets wither in poverty without offering them a proper cause for praise. However, if Octavius, armed with all the knowledge he possesses in various domains, his love for beautiful works, his use of poetry for entertainment, his constant demonstration of honor, and his own achievements which could place him among the most respected authors— if Octavius, despite having these advantages, only meagerly rewarded those devoted to belles-lettres, he would be shamed. It would be almost less disgraceful for him to be foolish, ignorant, and greedy, than to be learned and greedy. But thanks to the Gods, his own will, and your advice, he has prevented this duty from tarnishing his life.
       To know if Octavius truly loved the arts and sciences, it is enough to check the rewards he gave to those practicing them. Among all those excelling in the art which the gods have taught men, it must be acknowledged that those who have the courage to undertake an epic poem deserve the primary place among kings. These are the people who should be particularly regarded. For, among all forms of poetry we admire, this work is the grandest, the most renown, the most challenging and the most glorious, both for its creator and for the hero he chooses. Logically, the epic poem encompasses within itself all the beauty of other forms of poetry, yet even more. 
       Those who compose elegies immortalize more their loves, their passions, and their sufferings than the merits of their princes. Odes only reveal abstract paintings where most elements do not clearly stand out. Sometimes, a single action might be too great for this work, and ultimately, the boundaries of odes are too small to challenge time and destiny. Eclogues remind posterity that the golden age was happy, at a time when the Muses could devote themselves to making shepherds speak rather than complain about the tyranny of their kings. Satires, these depictions where everyone can recognize themselves, are glorious for princes only if their names are not in any of them. In other words, their silence constitutes the greatest honors they can offer. Epigrams are only diamond chips whose brilliance, although dazzling, cannot illuminate a great prince's life. These speeches are essentially the fruit of imagination, an intellectual exercise that can preserve the reputation of the one who masters the art of eloquence, but not that of poetry.
       Tragedy, although it claims to teach while entertaining and is even considered the pièce de résistance of poetry, should not be as important to a prince as the heroic poem. The one who composes tragedies works more for himself than for his king. He creates works, this is a fact, but his prince can only claim another form of recognition than that of fully appreciating their beauty, carefully preserving them, and rewards while he is alive. 
       
       


  
 

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