Moreover, the historian covers a plethora of themes, making it nearly inevitable that<hr>
the reign of the prince whose life he narrates is entwined with those of his subjects. He employs his pen for<hr>
all the criminals of this era, just as much as for the honorable characters. He does not have<hr>
the liberty of choosing his subject, he must take it as time and chance present it to him. The<hr>
prince and his subjects are so intertwined that they can almost never be distinguished, save in the<hr>
armies, public places, and the populous crowd. The poet, on the other hand, separates the prince from the people.<hr>
He chooses his theme and his material, he follows his hero to the grave, he only speaks of what<hr>
pleases him and addresses the twists and turns when he deems them useful. Therefore, the objective of the historian is<hr>
simply the truth, while that of the poet is the glory and immortality of his hero. You<hr>
can see that I agree with you and that the conversations between Octavian and Maecenas have given me<hr>
sufficient knowledge about everything concerning poetry to speak about it<hr>
reasonably. That being said, I think I can affirm that kings should put all their<hr>
effort into making themselves loved by poets, and that Octavian owes you more for the friendship<hr>
of Horace and Virgil than for having prevented him from relinquishing power. Alexander was certainly<hr>
right to envy the fate of Achilles, for he had the advantage of having Homer to<hr>
perpetuate his glory. But Octavian has no cause to complain about his era since the gods granted him<hr>
such friends as Virgil, Horace, and Maecenas.<hr>
       However, I believe that he has reasons to condemn fate for having compelled him to<hr>
exile Ovid. You know, however, the regret he voiced about this and how much he struggled to<hr>
deny your plea for pardon. I confess, Maecenas, that I fear that the exile of such a brilliant mind will one<hr>
day be criticized more than all the exiles of the Triumvirate. Those individuals capable of darkening<hr>
or illuminating the entire life of a prince should be greatly feared or<hr>
loved. Out of benevolence or self-interest, they ought to be revered by all the kings of the world.<hr>
Conquerors can erect trophies, build triumphal arches, place their<hr>
statues in public squares, and etch magnificent inscriptions on their graves to<hr>
immortalize their glory. Yet, all these things inevitably crumble to ruin,<hr>
sink beneath the earth and fade into oblivion. Their memory will perish with the marble they used<hr>
to erect it. But when a true poet worthy of the title undertakes to champion a hero, he is<hr>
capable of defying envy, time, and destiny. Nothing could maintain his<hr>
reputation better, his protector demolishes all his enemies and, from century to century, breathes new life<hr>
into him and bestows on him a fresh lustre. The writings of Virgil and Horace will not only cast<hr>
Octavian in the annals of history, but wherever these authors are admired.<hr>
       Those who read with awe and admiration Virgil’s Aeneid will find this<hr>
prince enviable by all monarchs of the world, for he was able to garner the praises and
friendship of the most talented man of all ages. Those who read Horace's works will<hr>
realize how advantageous it was for Octavian to have earned the goodwill of such a man<hr>
capable of guiding the mind toward virtue by criticizing vice, and to hold an integral place in such<hr>
<hr>
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                                                    119<hr>