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Cicero and his son greet Tiro. This is the seventh day of my detention at Corcyra, while Quintus—father and son—are at Buthrotum. I am wonderfully anxious about your health. But I am not surprised at getting no letter from you; for a voyage from your present residence requires winds, such that, if they were blowing now, we should not be loitering at Corcyra. So then take care of yourself and get strong, and, as soon as your health and the time of year allow of your sailing without discomfort, come to us who love you dearly. No one loves us without having a regard for you. Your arrival is eagerly expected, and you will find an affectionate welcome from everyone. Take care of your health. Again and again, dear Tiro, good-bye!

Corcyra, 16 November.

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