Non incunabula haec tibi, Caesar, et rudimenta, cum puer admodum Parthica lauro gloriam patris augeres, nomenque Germanici iam tum mererere, cum ferociam superbiamque Parthorum ex proximo auditus magno terrore cohiberes, Rhenumque et Euphratem admirationis tuae societate coniungeres? cum orbem terrarum non pedibus magis quam laudibus peragrares, apud eos semper maior et clarior quibus postea contigisses? Et necdum imperator, necdum dei filius eras.
Now, Caesar, let us turn to the very cradle and starting point of your career. You were scarcely more than a boy when your successes in Parthia helped to win fame for your father, when you already deserved the name of Germanicus, when the mere sound of your approach struck terror into the proud hearts of savage Parthians, when Rhine and Euphrates were united in their admiration for you. Your fame travelled the world ahead of your person, yet always proved less than reality among those who knew you later. And still you were not yet Emperor, not yet the son of a god.
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