DLXXIII (F IV, 6)
TO SERVIUS SULPICIUS RUFUS (IN
ACHAIA)
(FICULEA, APRIL)
YES, indeed, my dear Servius, I would have
wished—as you say—that you had
been by my side at the time of my grievous loss.
How much help your presence might have given me,
both by consolation and by your taking an almost
equal share in my sorrow, I can easily gather from
the fact that after reading your letter I
experienced a great feeling of relief. For not
only was what you wrote calculated to soothe a
mourner, but in offering me consolation you
manifested no slight sorrow of heart yourself.
Yet, after all, your son Servius by all the
kindnesses of which such a time admitted made it
evident, both how much he personally valued me,
and how gratifying to you he thought such
affection for me would be. His kind offices have
of course often been pleasanter to me, yet never
more acceptable. For myself again, it is not only
your words and (I had almost said) your
partnership in my sorrow that consoles me, it is
your character also. For I think it a disgrace
that I should not bear my loss as you—a
man of such wisdom-think it should be borne. But
at times I am taken by surprise and scarcely offer
any resistance to my grief, because those
consolations fail me, which were not wanting in a
similar misfortune to those others, whose examples
I put before my eyes. For instance, Quintus
Maximus, who lost a son who had been consul and
was of illustrious character and brilliant
achievements, and Lucius Paullus, who lost two
within seven days, and your kinsman Gallus and M.
Cato, who each lost a son of the highest character
and valour;-all lived in circumstances which
permitted their own great position, earned by
their public services, to assuage their grief. In
my case, after losing the honours which you
yourself mention, and which I had gained by the
greatest possible exertions, there was only that
one solace left which has now been
torn away. My sad musings were not interrupted by
the business of my friends, nor by the management
of public affairs: there was nothing I cared to do
in the forum: I could not bear the sight of the
senate-house; I thought—as was the
fact—that I had lost all the fruits both
of my industry and of fortune. But while I thought
that I shared these losses with you and certain
others, and while I was conquering my feelings and
forcing myself to bear them with patience, I had a
refuge, one bosom where I could find repose, one
in whose conversation and sweetness I could lay
aside all anxieties and sorrows. But now, after
such a crushing blow as this, the wounds which
seemed to have healed break out afresh. For there
is no republic now to offer me a refuge and a
consolation by its good fortunes when I leave my
home in sorrow, as there once was a home to
receive me when I returned saddened by the state
of public affairs. Hence I absent myself both from
home and forum, because home can no longer console
the sorrow which public affairs cause me, nor
public affairs that which I suffer at home. All
the more I look forward to your coming, and long
to see you as soon as possible. No reasoning can
give me greater solace than a renewal of our
intercourse and conversation. However, I hope your
arrival is approaching, for that is what I am
told. For myself, while I have many reasons for
wishing to see you as soon as possible, there is
this one especially—that we may discuss
beforehand on what principles we should live
through this period of entire submission to the
will of one man who is at once wise and liberal,
far, as I think I perceive, from being hostile to
me, and very friendly to you. But though that is
so, yet it is a matter for serious thought what
plans, I, don't say of action, but of passing a
quiet life by his leave and kindness, we should
adopt. Good-bye.
(FICULEA, APRIL)