And so I have learned at first hand of the power of Roma and of the insignificance of the formerly great. Our lovely Venetia was only a way station for him. Constantinopolis of Imperial grandeur will be the same. It was a powerful lesson: I have been thoroughly educated in the ways of Roma and the Romans, to my own great cost, for I see now as I never could have seen before that they are everything and we, polished and refined as we may be, are nothing at all.
I had underestimated Quintus Pompeius Falco at every turn; I had underestimated his race the same way. As had we all, which is why they once again rule the world, or most of it, and we smile and bow and hope for their favor.
He has written to me several times. So I must have made a strong impression on him. He speaks fondly, if guardedly, of our times together. He says nothing, though, about hoping that I will pay a visit to Constantinopolis to see him.
But perhaps I will, one of these days, nevertheless. Or perhaps not. It all depends on what the new proconsul is like.