Zeuxis or Antiochus (1-2)

Recently I was on my way home after lecturing to you, when a number of my recent audience met me (I see no objection to telling you a story like this now that you and I are friends)—they met me, then, and after greeting me gave some indication of approval. They accompanied me for some distance, vying in noisy praise until I blushed for shame at the thought that I fell far short of their praises. The substance of their approbation, which all alike emphasised, was the strangeness of the thought in my composition and the degree of freshness it displayed. It would be better to quote verbatim: “What novelty! What marvellous paradoxes! How inventive he is! The freshness of thought is beyond compare!” They continued in this strain. They had clearly been taken with the lecture—I don’t suppose they could have any reason for telling lies and flattering a stranger as they did, one who had no other reason for claiming their attention.

To be honest, however, their praise caused me considerable annoyance, and when they had gone and I was left alone, I reflected as follows: “So this is the only attraction in my writings, that they are unconventional and keep off the beaten track, while good vocabulary, conformity to the ancient canon,