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B.C. 45. Dictator, r.p.c., C. Iulius Caesar III. Magister Equitum, M. Aemilius Lepidus. Coss., C. Iulius Caesar IV., sine collega. Q. Fabius Maximus, mort., C. Caninius Rebilus, C. Trebonius.

B.C. 45. Dictator, r.p.c., C. Iulius Caesar III. Magister Equitum, M. Aemilius Lepidus. Coss., C. Iulius Caesar IV., sine collega. Q. Fabius Maximus, mort., C. Caninius Rebilus, C. Trebonius.
During this year Cicero remained at Rome or some of his country villas, till the death of his daughter Tullia after childbirth. In deep grief he retired to Astura, where he sought consolation partly in prosecuting a design for building a temple in her memory, partly in writing. He produced a Consolatio, and the two treatises, de Finibus and Academica (the latter first in two books, afterwards rearranged in four). He also projected, but did not carry out, a treatise on the reconstruction of the constitution, to be addressed to Caesar. In December of the previous year Caesar had started for Spain to attack the Pompeian army commanded by Gnaeus and Sextus Pompeius. The victory of Munda (17th March) and the subsequent death of Gnaeus seemed to settle the question of Spain—though the opposition under Sextus Pompeius survived many years—and Caesar returned to Rome in October. Much of the correspondence of this year concerns Cicero's grief for his daughter. When he touches on political affairs, however, his discontent with the Caesarian government and general policy is made very evident.

DXXIX (F xv, 18)

1 MY letter would have been longer, had not the messenger come for it when he was just on the point of starting for you. It would have been longer also if it had any persiflage in it, for we cannot be serious with safety. "Can we laugh, then?" you will say. No, by Hercules, not very easily. Yet other means of distraction from our troubles we have none. "Where, then," you will say, "is your philosophy?" Yours indeed is in the kitchen, mine in the schools. 2 For I am ashamed of being a slave. Accordingly, I pose as being busy about other things, to avoid the reproach of Plato. 3 We have no Certain intelligence from Spain as yet—in fact, no news at all. For my sake I am sorry that you are out of town, for your own I am glad. But your letter-carrier is getting clamorous. Good-bye then, and love me as you have done from boyhood.

DXXX (F XV, 16)

I think you must be a little ashamed at this being the third letter inflicted on you before I have a page or a syllable from you. But I will not press you: I shall expect, or rather exact, a longer letter. For my part, if I had a messenger always at hand, I should write even three an hour. For somehow it makes you seem almost present when I write anything to you, and that not "by way of phantoms of images," as your new friends express it, 4 who hold that "mental pictures" are caused by what Catius called "spectres"—for I must remind you that Catius Insuber the Epicurean, lately dead, calls "spectres" what the famous Gargettius, and before him Democritus, used to call "images." Well, even if my eyes were capable of being struck by these "spectres," because they spontaneously run in upon them at your will, I do not see how the mind can be struck. You will be obliged to explain it to me, when you return safe and sound, whether the "spectre" of you is at my command, so as to occur to me as soon as I have taken the fancy to think about you; and not only about you, who are in my heart's core, but supposing I begin thinking about the island of Britain—will its image fly at once into my mind? But of this later on. I am just sounding you now to see how you take it. For if you are angry and annoyed, I shall say more and demand that you be restored to the sect from which you have been ejected by "violence and armed force." 5 In an injunction of this sort the words "within this year" are not usually added. Therefore, even if it is now two or three years since you divorced Virtue, 6 seduced by the charms of Pleasure, 7 it will still be open for me to do so. And yet to whom am I speaking? It is to you, the most gallant of men, who ever since you entered public life have done nothing that was not imbued to the utmost with the highest principle. In that very sect of yours I have a misgiving that there must be more stuff than I thought, if only because you accept it. "How did that come into your head?" you will say. Because I had nothing else to say. About politics I can write nothing: for I don't choose to write down my real opinions.


FOR my book not having been delivered to you so quickly, forgive my timidity, and pity my position. My son, I am told, was very much alarmed at the book 8 being put in circulation, and with reason—since it does not matter so much in what spirit it is written, as in what spirit it is taken—for fear lest a stupid thing like that should stand in my light, and that too when I am still suffering for the sins of my pen. In that matter my fate has been a strange one: for whereas a slip of the pen is cured by erasure, and stupidity is punished by loss of reputation, my mistake is corrected by exile: though my greatest crime is having spoken ill of the enemy when engaged in active service. There was no one on our side, I presume, who did not pray for victory for himself; no one who, even when offering sacrifice for something else, did not breathe a wish for Caesar's speedy defeat. If he imagines that not to be the case, he is a very fortunate man. If he does know it, and has no delusion on the subject, why be angry with a man who has written something against his views, when he has pardoned all those who offered every sort of petition to the gods against his safety?

But to return to my subject, the cause of my fear was this. I have written about you, on my honour, sparingly and timidly, not merely checking myself, but almost beating a retreat. Now everyone knows that this style of writing ought not merely to be free, but even vehement and lofty. One is thought to have a free hand in attacking another, yet you must take care not to fall into mere violence: it is not open to one to praise oneself, lest the result should be the vice of egotism: there is no other course than to praise the man, on whom any blame that you may cast is necessarily set down to weakness or jealousy. And I rather think that you will like it all the better, and think it more suited to your present position. For what I could not do in good style, it was in my power first of all not to touch upon, and, as next best, to do so as sparingly as possible. But after all I did check myself: I softened many phrases, cut out many, and a very large number I did not write down at all. Then, as in a ladder, if you were to remove some rounds, cut out others, leave some loosely fastened, you would be contriving the means of a fall, not preparing a way of ascent, just so with a writer's genius: if it is at once hampered and frustrated by so many disadvantages, what can it produce worth listening to or likely to satisfy? When, indeed, I come to mention Caesar himself, I tremble in every limb, not from fear of his punishing, but of his criticising me. For I do not know Caesar thoroughly. What do you think of a courage that talks thus to itself? "He will approve of this: that expression is open to suspicion." "What if I change it to this? But I fear that will be worse." Well, suppose I am praising some one: "Shan't I offend him ?" Or when I am criticising some one adversely: "What if it is against his wish ?" "He punishes the pen of a man engaged in a campaign: what will he do to that of a man conquered and not yet restored ?"

You yourself add to my alarm, because in your Orator you shield yourself under the name of Brutus, 9 and try to make him a party to your apology. When the universal "patron" does this, what ought I to do—an old client of yours, and now everyone's client? Amidst such misgivings therefore created by fear, and on the rack of such blind suspicion, when most of what one writes has to be adapted to what one imagines are the feelings of another, not to one's own judgment, I feel how difficult it is to come off successfully, though you have not found the same difficulty, because your supreme and surpassing genius has armed you for every eventuality. Nevertheless, I told my son to read the book to you, and then to take it away, or only to give it to you on condition that you would promise to correct it, that is, if you would give it a totally new complexion.

About my journey to Asia, though the necessity for my making it was very urgent, I have obeyed your commands. Why should I urge you to exert yourself for me? You are fully aware that the time has come when my case must be decided. There is no occasion, my dear Cicero, for you to wait for my son. He is a young man: he cannot from his warmth of feeling, or his youth, or his timidity, think of all necessary measures. The whole business must rest on you: you is all my hope. Your acuteness enables you to hit upon the measures which Caesar likes, and which win his favour. Everything must originate with you, and be brought to the desired conclusion by you. You have great influence with Caesar himself, very great with all his friends. If you will convince yourself of this one thing, that your duty is not merely to do what you are asked—though that is a great and important thing—but that the whole burden rests on you, you will carry it through: unless—which I don't believe—my misfortunes make me too inconsiderate, or my friendship too bold, in placing this burden upon you. But your lifelong habits suggest an excuse for both: for from your habit of exerting yourself for your friends, your intimates have come not so much to hope for that favour at your hands, as to demand it as a right. As for my book, which my son will give you, I beg that you will not let it out of your hands, or that you will so correct it as to prevent it doing me any harm.


EVERY time I see your son—and that is nearly every day—I promise him my zealous and active support, without any reserve as to labour, prior engagement, or time: but the exertion of my interest or favour with this reservation, "as far as I have the opportunity or power." Your book has been read and is still being read by me with attention, and kept under lock and key with the greatest care. Your prospects and fortunes are of the highest concern to me. They seem to me to grow brighter and less complicated every day: and I can see that many are much interested in them, of whose zeal, 'as well as of his own hopes, I feel certain that your son has written fully to you. But as to those particulars, in which I am reduced to conjecture, I do not take upon myself to profess greater foresight than I am convinced that your own eyes and your own intelligence give you: but all the same, as it may. very well be that your reflexions on those points are somewhat agitated, I think it is incumbent upon me to explain my opinions. It is neither in the nature of things nor the ordinary revolutions of time that a position such as either your own or that of the rest should be protracted, or that so outrageous an injustice should be persistently maintained in so good a cause and in the case of such good citizens. In which matter, in addition to the hope which your own case gives me to a degree beyond the common—I don't mean only from your high position and admirable character, for these are distinctions which you share with others-there are the claims which brilliant genius and eminent virtue make peculiar to yourself. And to these, by Hercules, he in whose power we are allows much weight. Accordingly, you would not have remained even a moment in your present position, had it not been that he thought himself to have been insulted by precisely that accomplishment of yours, in which he takes delight. But this feeling is softening every day, and those who live with him hint to me, that this very opinion which he entertains of your genius will do you a great deal of good with him. Wherefore, in the first place, keep up your spirits and courage: for your birth, education, learning, and character in the world demand that you should do so. In the next place, entertain the most certain hopes for the reasons which I have given you. On my side, indeed, I would have you feel sure that everything I can do is most completely at your service and at that of your sons: for this is no more than our longstanding friendship, and my invariable conduct to my friends, and your many kindnesses to me demand.


Immediately on the receipt of the letter from your servant Seleucus I sent a note to Balbus asking him what the provision of the law was. He answered that auctioneers in actual business were excluded from being municipal counsellors, retired auctioneers were not excluded. 10 Wherefore certain friends of yours and mine need not be alarmed, for it would have been intolerable, while those who were now acting as haruspices were put on the roll of the senate at Rome, all who had ever been auctioneers should be excluded from becoming counsellors in the municipal towns.

There is no news from Spain. However, it is ascertained to be true that Pompey has a great army: for Caesar has himself sent me a copy of a despatch from Paciaecus, in which the number was reckoned as eleven legions. Messalla has also written to Quintus Salassus to say that his brother Publius Curtius has been put to death by Pompey's order in the presence of the army, for having, as he alleged, made a compact with certain Spaniards, that if Pompey entered a particular town to get corn, they should arrest him and take him to Caesar. As to your business in regard to your being a guarantee for Pompey, when your fellow guarantor Galba 11 —a man generally very careful in money matters-comes back to town, I will at once consult with him to see whether anything can be done, as he seems inclined to have confidence in me.

I am much delighted that you approve so highly of my Orator. 12 My own view of it is that I have put into that book all the critical power I possessed in the art of speaking. If the book is such as you say that you think it to be, then I too am somewhat. If not, then I do not decline to allow the same deduction to be made from my reputation for critical judgment as is to be made from the book. I am desirous that our dear Lepta 13 should take pleasure in such writings. Though his age is not yet ripe for them, yet it is not unprofitable that his ears should ring with the sound of such language.

I am kept at Rome in any case by Tullia's confinement; but when she gets as well again as I can wish, I am still detained till I can get the first instalment of the dowry 14 out of Dolabella's agents. Besides, by Hercules, I am not so much of a traveller as I used to be. My building and my leisure satisfy me entirely. My town house is now equal to any one of my villas: my leisure is more complete than the loneliest spot in the world could supply. So I am not hindered even in my literary employments, in which I am plunged without interruption. Wherefore I think that I shall see you here before you see me there. Let our dearest Lepta learn his Hesiod by heart, and have ever on his lips: “On virtue's threshold god sets sweat and toil.” 15


I have received16 two letters from you, dated Corcyra. In one of these you congratulated me because you had heard, as you say, that I was enjoying my former position; in the other you said that you wished what I had done might turn out well and prosperously. Well, certainly, if they entertain honest sentiments on public affairs and to get good men to agree with them constitute a "position," then I do hold my position. But if "position" depends upon the power of giving effect to your opinion, or in fine of supporting it by freedom of speech, then I have not a trace of my old position left: and it is great good fortune if I am able to put sufficient restraint upon myself to endure without excessive distress what is partly upon us already and partly threatens to come. That is the difficulty in a war of this kind: its result shews a prospect of massacre on the one side, and slavery on the other. In this danger it affords me no little consolation to remember that I foresaw all this at the time when I was feeling greatly alarmed even at our successes-not merely at our reverses—and perceived at what immense risk the question of constitutional right was to be decided in arms. And if in that appeal to arms those had conquered, to whom, induced by the hope of peace and not the desire for war, I had given in my adhesion, I nevertheless was well aware how bloody the victory of men swayed by anger, rapacity, and overbearing pride was certain to be: while if they had been conquered, what a clean sweep would be surely made of citizens, some of the highest rank, some too of the highest character, who, when I predicted these things and advised the measures best for their safety, preferred that I should be considered over-timid rather than moderately wise.

For your congratulations on what I have done, I am sure you speak your real wishes: but at such an unhappy time as this I should not have taken any new step, had it not been that at my return I found my domestic affairs in no better order than those of the state. For when, owing to the misconduct of those, to whom, considering my never-to-be-forgotten services, my safety and my fortune ought to have been their dearest object, I saw nothing safe within the walls of my house, nothing that was not the subject of some intrigue, I thought it was time to protect myself by the fidelity of new relations against the treachery of the old. But enough, or rather too much, about my own affairs. 17

As to yours, I would have you feel as you ought to do, namely, that you have no reason to fear any measure directed specially against yourself. For if there is to be some constitution, whatever it may be, I see clearly that you will be free of all danger: for I perceive that the one party is reconciled to you, the other has never been angry with you. However, of my disposition towards you I would have you make up your mind that, whatever steps I understand to be required—though I see my position at this time and the limits of my powers—I will yet be ready with my active exertions and advice, and at least with zeal, to support your property, your good name, and your restoration. Pray be exceedingly careful on your part to let me know both what you are doing and what you think of doing in the future.

DXXXV (F IV, 10)

THOUGH I have nothing fresh to say to you, and am now beginning more to expect a letter from you, or rather to see you in person, yet, as Theophilus was starting, I could not refrain from giving him some sort of letter. Do your best, then, to come at the earliest Opportunity: your coming, believe me, will be welcomed not only by us, I mean by your personal friends, but by absolutely everybody. I say this because it occurs to me sometimes to be a little afraid that you have a fancy for postponing your departure. Now, had you had no other sense than that of eyesight, I should have sympathized with you in your shrinking from the sight of certain persons: but since what is heard is not much less distressing than what is seen, while I suspected that your early arrival much concerned the safety of your property, and was of importance in every point of view, I thought I ought to give you a hint on the subject. But as I have shewn you my opinion, I will leave the rest to your own wisdom. Still, pray let me know about when to expect you.


I DID not venture to allow our friend Salvius to go without a letter to you; yet, by Hercules, I have nothing to say except that I love you dearly : 18 of which I feel certain that you do not doubt without my writing a word. In any case I ought rather to expect a letter from you, than you one from me. For there is nothing going on at Rome such as you would care to know: unless it would interest you to know that I am acting as arbitrator between our friend Nicias and Vidius! The latter puts forward in two lines, I think, a claim for money advanced to Nicias: the former, like a second Aristarchus, obelizes them. I am to be in the position of a critic of old days, and to judge whether they really are the poet's or are interpolations. I imagine you putting in here: "Have you forgotten, then, those mushrooms which you had at Nicias's dinner, and the big dishes joined to Septima's learned talk?" 19 What! do you think my old preciseness so entirely knocked out of me, that there is no trace of my former regard for appearances to be seen even in the forum? However, I will see our delightful boon companion through his little trouble, nor will I, by securing his condemnation, give you the opportunity of re storing him, that Plancus Bursa 20 may have some one to teach him his rudiments.

But what am I doing? Though I have no means of knowing whether you are in a quiet state of mind, or, as generally happens in war, are involved in some more important anxiety or occupation, yet I drift on farther and farther. So when I shall have ascertained for certain that you are in the vein for a laugh, I will write at greater length. However, I want you to know this, that the people have been very anxious about the death of Publius Sulla before they knew it for certain. Since then they have ceased to inquire how he perished: they think in knowing that they know enough. For the rest I bear it with equanimity: the only thing I fear is lest Caesar's auctions should have received a blow. 21


ROME (JANUARY) Though22 the universal upset is such that each man thinks his position the worst possible, and that there is no one who does not wish to be anywhere but where he is, yet I feel no doubt that at the present moment the most miserable place for a good man to be in is Rome. For though wherever any man is, he must have the same feeling and the same pang from the ruin that has overtaken the fortunes both of himself and of the state, yet, after all, one's eyes add to the pain, which force us to see what others only hear, 23 and do not allow us to turn our thoughts from our miseries. Therefore, though you must necessarily be pained by the absence of many objects, yet from that particular sorrow, with which I am told that you are specially overpowered—that you are not at Rome—pray free your mind. For though you must feel great uneasiness at being without your family and your surroundings, yet, after all, the objects of your regret are maintaining all their rights. They could not maintain them better, if you were here, nor are they in any special danger. Nor ought you, when thinking of your family, to demand any special favour of fortune for yourself, or to refuse to bear what is common to all. In regard to yourself personally, Torquatus, your duty is to think over everything, but not to take counsel with despair or fear. For it is not the case that the man, who has as yet been harsher to you than your character deserved, has given no signs of softened feeling towards you. But, after all, that person himself, of whom your safety is being asked, is far from having the way to secure his own clear and plain before him. And while the results of all wars are uncertain, I perceive that from the victory of the one side there is no danger for you, seeing that such danger has nothing to do with the general overthrow, while from the victory of the other I feel sure that you yourself have never had any fear. I must therefore conclude that the very thing which I count as a consolation—the common danger to the state—is what is chiefly torturing you. That is an evil so great that, however philosophers may talk, I fear it admits of no real consolation being found, except that which is exactly proportioned to the strength and mettle of each man's mind. For if right thinking and right doing are sufficient to secure a good and happy life, I fear that it is impious to call a man miserable who can support himself by the consciousness of having acted on the best motives. For neither do I consider that we abandoned country and children and property at that time from the hope of the rewards of victory on the contrary, I think we were following a just and sacred duty, due at once to the Republic and our own honour-neither, at the time we did so, were we so mad as to feel certain of victory. Wherefore, if that has happened, of which, when we were entering upon the cause, the possibility was fully before us, we ought not to be crushed in spirit, as though something had happened which we never contemplated as possible. Let us then take the view, which reason and truth alike enjoin, that in this life we should not feel ourselves bound to guarantee anything except to do nothing wrong: and that, since we are free from that imputation, we should bear every misfortune incident to humanity with calmness and good temper. And so my discourse amounts to this, that, though all be lost, virtue should shew that she can after all support herself. But if there is some hope of a public recovery, you certainly ought not to be without your share in it, whatever the constitution of the future is to be. And yet, as I write this, it occurs to me that I am the man whose despair you were wont to blame, and whom you used your influence to rouse from a state of hesitation and anxiety. It was at a time, indeed, when it was not the goodness of our cause, but the wisdom of our policy with which I was dissatisfied. For I saw that, when too late, we were opposing arms which had long before been rendered formidable by ourselves, and I grieved that a constitutional question should be settled by spears and swords, not by consultation and the weight of our influence. Nor, when I said that those things would occur, which actually did do so, was I divining the future. I was only expressing a fear lest what I saw to be possible and likely to be ruinous, if it did occur, should happen; especially as, if I had to promise one way or the other about the result and end of the campaign, what did actually occur would have been the more obvious promise for me to make. For the points in which we had the advantage were not those which appear on the field of battle, while in the use of arms and the vigour of our soldiers we were at a disadvantage. But pray shew the spirit now which you thought that I ought to have shewn then. I write this because on my making all sorts of inquiries about you from your freedman Philargyrus, he told me with feelings, as I thought, of the utmost devotion to you, that at times you were apt to be excessively anxious. You ought not to be so, nor to doubt either that, if any form of constitution is restored, you will have your due place in it, or that, if it is gone for ever, you will be in no worse position than the rest. The present position, indeed, which is one of alarm and suspense for us all, you ought to bear with the greater calm-ness of spirit from the fact that you are living in a city which gave birth to and fostered a systematic rule of life, and that you have with you in Servius Sulpicius one for whom you have always had a singular affection: one who no doubt consoles you by his kindness and wisdom; whose example and advice, if we had followed, we should have remained at peace under Caesar's supremacy, rather than have taken up arms and submitted to a conqueror.

But perhaps I have treated these points at too great a length: the following, which are more important, I will express more briefly. There is no one to whom I owe more than to yourself. Those, to whom I was indebted to an extent of which you are aware, the result of this war has snatched from me. My position at the present moment I fully understand. But since there is no one so utterly prostrate as not to be able, if he gives his whole attention to what he is doing, to accomplish and carry out something, I should wish you to consider as deservedly at the service of yourself and your children, of course all my zeal, but also all my powers of counsel and action.


IN my former letter I was somewhat lengthy, more from warmth of affection than because the occasion demanded it. For neither did your virtue require fortifying by me, nor were my own case and position of such a nature as to allow of my encouraging another when in want of every source of encouragement myself. On the present occasion I ought to he briefer. For if there was no need of so many words then, there is no more need of them now, or if there was need of them then, what I said is enough, especially as there has been nothing new to add. For though I am every day told some items of news, which I think are conveyed to you, yet the upshot is the same, as is also the result: a result which I see as clearly in my mind as what I actually see with my eyes; and yet in truth I see nothing that I am not well assured that you see also. For though no one can prophesy the result of a battle, yet the result of a war I can see: and if not that, yet at least this—since one or the other side must win—how victory on the one side or the other will be used. And having a clear grasp of this, what I see convinces me that no evil will occur, if that shall have happened to me, even before, which is held out as the most formidable of all terrors. For to live on the terms on which one would then have to live, is a most miserable thing, while no philosopher has asserted death to be a miserable thing even for a prosperous man. But you are in a city in which the very walls of the houses seem capable of telling you these things, even at greater length and in nobler style. I assure you of this—though the miseries of others supply but a poor consolation—that you are now in no greater danger than anyone else, either of those who went away, 24 or of those who remained. The one party are now in arms, the other in terror of the conqueror. But this, I repeat, is a poor consolation. There is another, which I hope you use, as I certainly do: I will never, while hive, let any-thing give me pain, so long as I have done nothing wrong: and if I cease to live, I shall cease to have any sensation. But to write this to you is again a case of "an owl to Athens." 25 To me both you and your family and all your interests are, and while I live will be, the subject of the greatest concern. Good-bye.


I have no news to give you, and if there is some after all, I know that you are usually informed of it by your family. About the future, however, difficult as it always is to speak, you may yet sometimes get nearer the truth by conjecture, when the matter is of the kind whose issue admits of being foreseen. In the present instance I think that I perceive thus much, that the war will not be a protracted one, though even as to that there are some who think I am wrong. For myself, even as I write this, I believe that something decisive has occurred, not that I know it for certain, but because the conjecture is an easy one. For while all chances in war are open, and the results of all battles are uncertain, yet on this occasion the forces on both sides are so large, and are said to be in such a state of preparation for a pitched battle, that whichever of the two conquers it will be no matter of surprise. It is an opinion that grows daily stronger that even if there is considerable difference in the merits of the causes of the combatants, there will yet be little difference in the way in which they will use their victory. Of the one side we have now had a pretty full experience: of the other there is no one that does not reflect how much reason there is to fear an armed victor inflamed with rage.

On this point, if I appear to increase your anxiety while I ought to have been lightening it by consolation, I confess that I can find no consolation for our common disasters except that one, which after all—if you can avail yourself of it—is the highest and the one to which I have daily greater recourse: namely, that the consciousness of good intentions is the greatest consoler of misfortune, and that there is no serious evil except misconduct. As from this last we are so far removed, that our sentiments have been absolutely unimpeachable, while it is the result of our policy, not the policy itself, which is criticised: and as we have fulfilled all our obligations, let us bear what has happened without excessive grief. But I do not take upon myself, after all, to console you for misfortunes affecting all alike. Rightly to console them requires a greater intelligence, and to bear them requires unique courage. But anyone can easily shew you why you ought not to feel any sorrow peculiar to yourself. For as to Caesar's decision concerning your restoration, though he has been somewhat slower in relieving you than I had thought he would be, I have no doubt whatever. As to the other party, I do not think that you are at a loss to know my sentiments. Finally, there is the pain that you feel at being so long absent from your family. It is distressing, especially considering the character of your sons, than which nothing can be more charming. But, as I said in my last letter, the state of things is such that everyone thinks his own position the most miserable of all, and most dislikes being precisely where he is. For my part, I consider that the most wretched of all are we who are at Rome, not merely because in all misfortunes it is more painful to see than to hear, but also because we are more exposed to all the risks of sudden perils, than if we were out of town. For myself however, who set up to console you, my feelings have become softened, not so much by literature, to which I have always been devoted, as by lapse of time. You remember how keen my sorrow was. In regard to that the first consolation is that I shewed greater foresight than the rest, when I desired to have peace on any terms however inequitable. And although this was from chance, and not from any prophetic powers of mine, yet I take pleasure in this poor reputation for wisdom. Another source of consolation common to us both is that, if I am called upon to end my life, I shall not be torn from a republic such as I should grieve to lose, especially as I shall then be beyond all consciousness. An additional consolation is my age and the fact that my life is now all but over, which both gives me pleasure in reflecting upon its honourably accomplished career, and forbids my fearing any violence at a period to which nature herself has now almost brought me. Lastly, considering what a great man, or rather what great men, fell in that war, it seems shameless to decline to share the same fortune, if circumstances render it necessary. For my part, I regard everything as possible for myself, nor is there any evil too great for me to believe to be hanging over my head. But since there is more evil in fear than in the thing itself which is feared, I cease to indulge in it, especially as that now hangs over me, in which there will not only be no pain, but also the end of all pain. But I have said enough, or rather more than was needed. It is not love of talking, however, but affection for you that makes my letters too long. I was sorry to hear that Servius had left Athens; for I do not doubt that your daily meeting, and the conversation of a man at once most intimate and of the highest character and wisdom have been a great alleviation to you. Pray keep up your spirits, as you ought and are accustomed to do, by your own virtue. For myself, I shall look after everything with zeal and diligence which I may think to be in accordance with your wishes or for the interests of your self and your family. In doing so I shall imitate your goodness to me, I shall never equal your services.

DXL (F XV, 17)

YOU have most unreasonable letter-carriers, though I am not personally angry with them. But, after all, when they are leaving me they demand a letter, when they come to me they bring none. And even as to the former, they would have consulted my convenience better if they had given me some interval for writing; but they come to me with their travelling caps on, declaring that their company is waiting for them at the city gate. Therefore you must pardon me: you shall have here another short note, but expect full details presently. Yet why should I apologize to you, when your men come to me with empty hands and return to you with letters. Here—for after all I will write something to you—we have the death of P. Sulla 26 the elder: according to some from an attack of footpads, according to others from an attack of indigestion. The people don't trouble themselves, for they are assured that he is dead and burnt. Your philosophy will enable you to bear this; though we have lost a well-known "feature of the city." People think that Caesar will be vexed for fear of his auctions becoming flat. Mindius Marcellus 27 and Attius the paintseller are delighted at having lost a rival bidder.

There is no news from Spain, and a very great anxiety for some: the rumours are rather gloomy, but are not authenticated. Our friend Pansa left town in military array 28 on the 29th of December. It is enough to convince anyone of what you have recently begun to doubt, that "the good is desirable for its own sake." 29 For because he has relieved many of their misfortunes, and has shewn humanity in these evil times, he was attended by an extraordinary display of affection on the part of good men. I very much approve of your having stayed on at Brundisium, and I am very glad you have done so, and, by Hercules, I think that you will act wisely if you don't trouble yourself about vain things. 30 Certainly I, who love you, shall be glad if it is so. And pray, next time you are sending a packet home, don't forget me. I will never allow anyone, if I know it, to go to you without a letter from me.

DXLI (F XV, 19)

If you are well, I am glad. There is nothing, by Hercules, that I more like doing on this tour of mine than writing to you: for I seem to be talking and joking with you in person. Nor does this Come to pass owing to Catius's "images" : 31 for which expression I will in my next retort on you by quoting such a number of ill-educated Stoics, that you will acknowledge Catius to have been a true-born Athenian. That our friend Pansa left the city in military array with such expressions of goodwill from everybody, I rejoice both for his own sake and also, by Hercules, for the sake of all our party. For I hope that people will understand how odious cruelty is to everybody, and how attractive honesty and clemency: and that the objects which bad men seek and desire above everything come spontaneously to the good. For it is difficult to persuade men that "the good is desirable for its own sake": but that "pleasure" and "peace of mind" 32 are obtained by virtue, justice, and "the good" is both true and convincing. In fact, Epicurus himself says-from whom all your Catiuses and Amafiniuses, those poor translators of his words, proceed—"to live pleasantly is impossible without living well and justly." So it is that Pansa, whose summum bonum is "pleasure," keeps his virtue; and those too who are called by you "pleasure-lovers" are "lovers of the good" and "lovers of the just," 33 and practise and maintain all the virtues. Accordingly Sulla, whose judgment we are bound to respect, seeing that philosophers disagreed, did not ask what was good, but bought up all goods indifferently: whose death, by Hercules, I have borne with some fortitude! Nor will Caesar, after all, allow us to feel his loss very long: for he has plenty of condemned persons to restore for us in his place, nor will he be without some one to bid at his auctions as long as Sulla's son is in his sight.

Now for public affairs. Write and tell me what is going on in Spain. Upon my life I feel anxious, and prefer to have our old and merciful master rather than a new and bloodthirsty one. You know what a fool Gnaeus is: you know how he thinks cruelty is courage: you know how he always thinks that we laugh at him. I am afraid he will want to retort the joke in rustic fashion with a blow of the sword. If you love me, write and say what is happening. Dear, dear, how I wish I knew whether you read this with an anxious or a quiet mind! For then I should at the same time know what it becomes me to do. Not to be too wearisome, I will say good-bye. Love me as ever. If Caesar has conquered, expect me with all speed.

DXLII (F IX, 13)

C. SUBERNIUS of Cales is both my friend and very closely connected with Lepta, who is a very intimate friend of mine. Having for the express purpose of avoiding the war one to Spain with M. Varro before it began, with a view of being in a province in which none of us had thought that there was likely to be any war after the defeat of Afranius, 34 he found himself plunged into the precise evils which he had done his very best to avoid. For he was overtaken by a sudden war, which being set in motion by Scapula was afterwards raised to such serious proportions by Pompey, that it became impossible for him to extricate himself from that unhappy affair. 35 M. Planius Heres, also of Cales, and also a very close friend of our friend Lepta, is in much the same position. These two men, therefore, I commend to your protection with a care, zeal, and heartfelt anxiety beyond which I cannot go in commending anyone. I wish it for their own sake, and in this matter I am also strongly influenced by motives of humanity no less than by friendship. For since Lepta is so anxious that his fortunes would seem to be at stake, I cannot but be in a state of anxiety next or even equal to his. Therefore, although I have often had proof of how much you loved me, yet I would have you be convinced that I shall have no better opportunity than this of judging that to be so. I therefore ask you, or, if you allow it, I implore you to save from disfranchisement two unhappy men, who owe their loss of citizenship to fortune—which none can avoid-rather than to any fault of their own. Be so good as to allow me by your help to bestow this favour both on the men themselves, who are my friends, and also on the municipium of Cales, with which I have strong ties, and lastly upon Lepta, whom I regard more than all the rest. What I am going to say I think is not much to the point, yet, after all, there is no harm in saying it. The property of one of them is very small, of the other scarcely up to the equestrian standard. Wherefore, seeing that Caesar, with his usual high-mindedness, has granted them their lives, and since there is very little else that can be taken from them, do secure these men their return, if you love me as much as I am sure you do. The only possible difficulty is the long journey; which their motive for not shirking is their desire to be with their families and to die at home. That you do your best and exert yourself, or rather that you carry it through—for as to your ability to do it I have no doubt—I strongly and repeatedly entreat you.


OF all our men of rank there is no one of whom I have been fonder than of Publius Crassus the younger; and though I have had very great hopes of him from his earliest years, I began at once to entertain brilliant ideas of his abilities when I was informed of your high opinion of him. His freedman Apollonius I always valued and thought well of even when Crassus was alive: for he was very attentive to Crassus and extremely well suited to promote his best tastes: and, accordingly, was much liked by him. But after the death of Crassus he seemed the more worthy of admission to my confidence and friendship, because he regarded it as his duty to be attentive and polite to those whom the late Crassus had loved and by whom he had been beloved. Accordingly, he came to stay with me in Cilicia, and in many particulars his fidelity and good sense were of great use to me; and, as I think, he rendered you all the service in the Alexandrine war that was within the range of ability and fidelity. Hoping that you would think the same, he has started to join you in Spain—chiefly indeed on his own initiative, but also on my advice. I did not promise him a letter of recommendation, not because I doubted its weight with you, but because he did not seem to want any, for he had been on active service in your army, and had been put on your staff from respect to the memory of Crassus. And if he did choose to avail himself of introductions, I saw that he could accomplish that by means of others. It is a testimony to my opinion of him, which he values highly and which I also have found to have weight with you, that I hereby give him with pleasure. Well, then, I have found him to be well instructed and devoted to the highest pursuits, and that from a boy. For he lived much at my house from his boyhood along with the Stoic Diodotus, a man in my opinion of the most profound learning. At present, fired with admiration of your achievements, he desires to write a history of them in Greek. I think he is capable of doing it. He has great genius: great experience: for a long time past he has been engaged in that branch of study and literature: he is wonderfully eager to do justice to the immortal fame of your glorious achievements. You have here the record of my opinion, but your supreme wisdom will enable you to decide with much greater ease upon this point. Yet, after all, though I said I would not do so, I recommend him to you. Whatever favour you shew him will be more than ordinarily gratifying to me.

[The death of Cicero's daughter Tullia, after confinement, occurred, it seems, in the last days of February, either at Rome (p. 181) or Tusculum. His grief seems to have been very acute, though not very lasting. He was minded to purchase and throw open some gardens near Rome, containing a shrine dedicated to her to commemorate her name, but this scheme, like that of building a porticus for the Academy at Athens, went gradually off, probably from considerations as to means: for the necessity of repaying Terentia's dowry made him seriously embarrassed at this time.]


I36 am disturbed about Attica, though I agree with Craterus. 37 Brutus's letter, full of wisdom and affection as it is, has yet cost me many tears. This solitude is less painful to me than the crowds of Rome. The only person I miss is yourself; but although I find no more difficulty in going on with my literary work than if I were at home, yet that passionate unrest haunts and never quits me, not, on my word, that I encourage it, I rather fight against it: still it is there. As to what you say about Appuleius, I don't think that there is any need for your exerting yourself, nor for applying to Balbus and Oppius, to whom he undertook to make things right, and even sent me a message to say that he would not be troublesome to me in any way. But see that my excuse of ill-health for each separate day is put in. Laenas undertook this. Add C. Septimius and L Statilius. In fact, no one, whomsoever you ask, will refuse to make the affidavit. But if there is any difficulty, I will come and make a sworn deposition myself of chronic ill-health. 38 For since I am to absent myself from the entertainments, I would rather be thought to do so in virtue of the augural law, than in consequence of grief. Please send a reminder to Cocceius, for he does not fulfil his promise: while I am desirous of purchasing some hiding-place and refuge for my sorrow.

DXLV (A XII, 14)

I wrote to you yesterday about making my excuses to Appuleius. I think there is no difficulty. No matter to whom you apply, no one will refuse. But see Septimius, Laenas, and Statilius about it. For three are required. Laenas, however, undertook the whole business for me. You say that you have been dunned by Iunius: Cornificius 39 is certainly a man of substance, yet I should nevertheless like to know when I am said to have given the guarantee, and whether it was for the father or son. None the less pray do as you say, and interview the agents of Cornificius and Appuleius the land-dealer.

You wish me some relaxation of my mourning: you are kind, as usual, but you can bear me witness that I have not been wanting to myself. For not a word has been written by anyone on the subject of abating grief which I did not read at your house. But my sorrow is too much for any consolation. Nay, I have done what certainly no one ever did before me—tried to console myself by writing a book, which I will send to you as soon as my amanuenses have made copies of it. I assure you that there is no more efficacious consolation. I write all day long, not that I do any good, but for a while I experience a kind of check, or, if not quite that—for the violence of my grief is overpowering-yet I get some relaxation, and I try with all my might to recover composure, not of heart, yet, if possible, of countenance. When doing that I sometimes feel myself to be doing wrong, sometimes that I shall be doing wrong if I don't. Solitude does me some good, but it would have done me more good, if you after all had been here: and that is my only reason for quitting this place, for it does very well in such miserable circumstances. And even this suggests another cause of sorrow. For you will not be able to be to me now what you once were: everything you used to like about me is gone. I wrote to you before about Brutus's letter to me: it contained a great deal of good sense, but nothing to give me any comfort. As to his asking in his letter to you whether I should like him to come to see me—by all means: he would be sure to give me some help, considering his strong affection for me. If you have any news, pray write and tell me, especially as to when Pansa goes. 40 I am sorry about Attica: yet I believe in Craterus. Tell Pilia not to be anxious: my sorrow is enough for us all.


SINCE you do not approve of a standing plea of ill-health, please see that my excuse is made each day to Appuleius. 41 In this lonely place I have no one with whom to converse, and plunging into a dense and wild wood early in the day I don't leave it till evening. Next to you, I have no greater friend than solitude. In it my one and only conversation is with books. Even that is interrupted by tears, which I fight against as long as I can. But as yet I am not equal to it. I will answer Brutus, as you advise. You will get the letter tomorrow. Whenever you have anyone to take it, write me a letter.


I DON'T wish you to come to me to the neglect of your business. Rather I will come to you, if you are kept much longer. And yet I should never have gone so far as to quit your sight, had it not been that I was getting absolutely no relief from anything. But if any alleviation had been possible, it would have been in you alone, and as soon as it will be possible from anyone, it will be from you. Yet at this very moment I cannot stand being without you. But to stay at your town house was not thought proper, and it was impossible at mine; nor, if I had stopped at some place nearer Rome, should I have been with you after all. For the same reason would have hindered you from being with me, as hinders you now. As yet nothing suits me better than this solitude, which I fear Philippus 42 will destroy: for he arrived at his villa yesterday evening. Writing and study do not soften my feelings, they only distract them.


To fly from recollections, which make my soul smart as though it were stung, I take refuge in recalling my plans to your memory. Pray pardon me, whatever you think of this one. The fact is that I find that some of the authors, whom I am now continually reading, suggest as a proper thing to do just what I have often discussed with you, and for which I desire your approval. I mean about the shrine-pray think of it as earnestly as your affection for me should suggest. 43 About the design I do not feel any doubt, for I like that of Cluatius, nor about the building of it at all—for to that I have made up my mind: but about the site I do sometimes hesitate. Pray therefore think over it. To the fullest capacity of such an enlightened age, I am quite resolved to consecrate her memory by every kind of memorial borrowed from the genius of every kind of artist, Greek or Latin. This may perhaps serve to irritate my wound: but I look upon myself as now bound by a kind of vow and promise. And the infinite time during which I shall be non-existent has more influence on me than this brief life, which yet to me seems only too long. For though I have tried every expedient, I find nothing to give me peace of mind. For even when I was composing that essay, of which I wrote to you before, I was in a way nursing my sorrow. Now I reject every consolation, and find nothing more endurable than solitude, which Philippus did not, as I feared, disturb. For after calling on me yesterday, he started at once for Rome. The letter which, in accordance with your advice, I have written to Brutus I herewith send you. Please see it delivered to him with your own. However, I am sending you a copy of it, in order that, if you disapprove, you should not send it. You say my domestic affairs are being managed properly: please tell me what they are. For there are some points on which I am expecting to hear. See that Cocceius does not play me false. For Libo's promise, mentioned by Eros in his letter, I regard as secure. As to my capital, I trust Sulpicius, and, of course, Egnatius. About Appuleius why need you trouble yourself, when my excuse is so easily made? Your coming to me, as you shew an intention of doing, may, I fear, be difficult for you. It is a long journey, and when you went away again, which you will perhaps have to do very quickly, I should be unable to let you go without great pain. But all as you choose. Whatever you do will in my eyes be right, and done also in my interest.


MARCIANUS has written to tell me that my excuse was made to Appuleius by Laterensis, Naso, Laenas, Torquatus, Strabo: please see that a letter is sent to each of them in my name, thanking them for their kindness. As for the assertion of Flavius that more than twenty-five years ago I gave a guarantee for Cornificius, though he is a man of substance, and Appuleius is a respectable dealer in land, yet I should like you to take the trouble to ascertain by inspecting the ledgers of my fellow guarantors whether it is so. For before my aedileship I had no dealings with Cornificius, yet it may be the case all the same, but I should like to be sure. And call upon his agents for payment, if you think it right to do so. However, what does it matter to me? Yet, after all Write and tell me of Pansa's departure for his province when you know. Give my love to Attica, and take good care of her, I beseech you. My compliments to Pilia.

DL (A XII, 18 a)

HAVING learnt yesterday from the letters of others of Antony's arrival, I was surprised to find no mention of it in yours. But perhaps it was written the day before it was sent. It does not matter to me: yet my own idea is that he has hurried back to save his securities. 44 You say that Terentia speaks about the witnesses to my will: in the first place, pray believe that I am not paying attention to things of that sort, and that I have no leisure for business which is either unimportant or fresh. Yet, after all, where is the analogy between us? She did not invite as witnesses those whom she thought would ask questions unless they knew the contents of her will. Was that a danger applicable to me? Yet, after all, let her do as I do. I will hand over my will for anyone she may select to read: she will find that nothing could have been in better taste than what I have done about my grandson. As for my not having invited certain witnesses: in the first place, it did not occur to me; and, in the second place, it did not occur to me because it was of no consequence. You know, if you have not forgotten, that I told you at the time to bring some of your friends: what need of a great many was there ? 45 For my part, I had bidden members of my household. At the time it was your opinion that I ought to send word to Silius: hence it came about that a message was sent to Publilius. 46 But neither was necessary. This matter you will handle as you shall think right.

DLI (A XII, 19)

THIS is certainly a lovely spot, right in the sea, and within sight of Antium and Cerceii: but in view of the whole succession of owners—who in the endless generations to come may be beyond counting, supposing the present empire to remain—I must think of some means to secure it being made permanent by consecration. 47 For my part, I don't want large revenues at all, and can put up with a little. I think sometimes of purchasing some pleasure-grounds across the Tiber, and principally for the reason that I don't think that there is any other position so much frequented. But what particular pleasure-grounds I shall purchase we will consider when we are together; but it must be on condition that the temple is finished this summer. Nevertheless, settle the contract with Apella of Chius for the columns. What you say about Cocceius and Libo I quite approve, especially as to my jury-service. If you have seen light at all about the question of my guarantee, and what after all Cornificius's agents say, I should like to know about it: but I don't wish you, when you are so busy, to bestow much trouble on that affair.

About Antony, Balbus also in conjunction with Oppius wrote me a full account, and said that you had wished them to write to save me from anxiety. 48 I have written to thank them. I should wish you to know however, as I have already written to tell you, that I was not alarmed by that news, and am not going to be alarmed by any in future. If Pansa has started for his province today, as you seemed to expect, begin telling me henceforward in your letters what you are expecting about the return of Brutus, that is to say, about what days. 49 You will be easily able to guess that, if you know where he is. I note what you say to Tiro about Terentia: pray, my dear Atticus, undertake that whole business. You perceive that there is at once a question of duty on my part involved—of which you are cognizant-and, as some think, of my son's pecuniary interest. 50 For myself, it is the former point that affects my feelings much the more strongly: it is more sacred in my eyes and more important, especially as I do not think we can count on the latter as being either sincerely intended or what we can rely upon.

DLII (A XII, 20)

You don't yet appear to me to be fully aware how indifferent I have been about Antony, and how impossible it is for anything of that sort now to disturb me. I wrote to you about Terentia in my letter of yesterday. You exhort me-Saying that other people look for it also—to hide the fact that my grief is as deep as it is. Could I do so more than by spending whole days in literary composition? Though my, purpose in doing so is not to hide, but rather to soften and heal my feelings: yet, if I don't do myself any good, I at least do what keeps up appearances. I write the less fully to you because I am waiting your answer to my letter of yesterday. What I most want to hear is about the temple, and also something about Terentia. Pray tell me in your next whether Cn. Caepio, father of Claudius's wife Servilia, perished in the shipwreck before or after his father's death: also whether Rutilia died in the lifetime of her son C. Cotta, or after his death. 51 These facts affect the book I have written "On the Lessening of Grief."

DLIII (A XIII, 6.1-3)

ABOUT the aqueduct you did quite right. You may perhaps find that I am not liable to the pillar-tax. However, I think I was told by Camillus that the law had been altered. What more decent answer can be given to Piso than the absence of Cato's guardians? Nor was it only from the heirs of Herennius that he borrowed money, as you know, for you discussed the matter with me, but also from the young Lucullus: and this money his guardian had raised in Achaia. I mention this because it is one element in the case also. 52 But Piso is behaving well about it, for he says that he will do nothing against my wishes. So when we meet, as you say, we will settle how to untangle the business. You ask me for my letter to Brutus: I haven't got a copy of it, but it is in existence all the same, and Tiro says that you ought to have it. To the best of my recollection, along with his letter of remonstrance I sent you my answer to it also. Pray see that I am not troubled by having to serve on a jury.

DLIV (F IV, 5)

WHEN I received the news of your daughter Tullia's death, I was indeed as much grieved and distressed as I was bound to be, and looked upon it as a calamity in which I shared. For, if I had been at home, I should not have failed to be at your side, and should have made my sorrow plain to you face to face. That kind of consolation involves much distress and pain, because the relations and friends, whose part it is to offer it, are themselves overcome by an equal sorrow. They cannot attempt it without many tears, so that they seem to require consolation themselves rather than to be able to afford it to others. Still I have decided to set down briefly for your benefit such thoughts as have occurred to my mind, not because I suppose them to be unknown to you, but because your sorrow may perhaps hinder you from being so keenly alive to them.

Why is it that a private grief should agitate you so deeply? Think how fortune has hitherto dealt with us. Reflect that W& have had snatched from us what ought to be no less dear to human beings than their children-country, honour, rank, every political distinction. What additional wound to your feelings could be inflicted by this particular loss? Or where is the heart that should not by this time have lost all sensibility and learn to regard everything else as of minor importance? Is it on her account, pray, that you sorrow? How many times have you recurred to the thought—and I have often been struck with the same idea—that in times like these theirs is far from being the worst fate to whom it has been granted to exchange life for a painless death? Now what was there at such an epoch that could greatly tempt her to live? What scope, what hope, what heart's Solace? That she might spend her life with some young and distinguished husband? How impossible for a man of your rank to select from the present generation of young men a son-in-law, to whose honour you might think yourself safe in trusting your child! Was it that she might bear children to cheer her with the sight of their vigorous youth? who might by their own character maintain the position handed down to them by their parent, might be expected to stand for the offices in their order, might exercise their freedom in supporting their friends? What single one of these prospects has not been taken away before it was given? But, it will be said, after all it is an evil to lose one's children. Yes, it is: only it is a worse one to endure and submit to the present state of things.

I wish to mention to you a circumstance which gave me no common consolation, on the chance of its also proving capable of diminishing your sorrow. On my voyage from Asia, as I was sailing from Aegina towards Megara, I began to survey the localities that were on every side of me. Behind me was Aegina, in front Megara, on my right Piraeus, on my left Corinth: towns which at one time were most flourishing, but now lay before my eyes m ruin and decay. I began to reflect to myself thus: "Hah! do we mannikins feel rebellious if one of us perishes or is killed—we whose life ought to be still shorter—when the corpses of so many towns lie in helpless ruin? Will you please, Servius, restrain yourself and recollect that you are born a mortal man?" Believe me, I was no little strengthened by that reflexion. Now take the trouble, if you agree with me, to put this thought before your eyes. Not long ago all those most illustrious men perished at one blow: the empire of the Roman people suffered that huge loss: all the provinces were shaken to their foundations. If you have become the poorer by the frail spirit of one poor girl, are you agitated thus violently? If she had not died now, she would yet have had to die a few years hence, for she was mortal born. You, too, withdraw soul and thought from such things, and rather remember those which become the part you have played in life: that she lived as long as life had anything to give her; that her life outlasted that of the Republic; that she lived to see you—her own father-praetor, consul, and augur; that she married young men of the highest rank; that she had enjoyed nearly, every possible blessing; that, when the Republic fell, she departed from life. What fault have you or she to find with fortune on this score? In fine, do not forget that you are Cicero, and a man accustomed to instruct and advise others; and do not imitate bad physicians, who in the diseases of others profess to understand the art of healing, but are unable to prescribe for themselves. Rather suggest to yourself and bring home to your own mind the very maxims which you are accustomed to impress upon others. There is no sorrow beyond the power of time at length to diminish and soften: it is a reflexion on you that you should wait for this period, and not rather anticipate that result by the aid of your wisdom. But if there is any consciousness still existing in the world below, such was her love for you and her dutiful affection for all her family, that she certainly does not wish you to act as you are acting. Grant this to her-your lost one! Grant it to your friends and comrades who mourn with you in your sorrow! Grant it to your country, that if the need arises she may have the use of your services and advice.

Finally—since we are reduced by fortune to the necessity of taking precautions on this point also—do not allow anyone to think that you are not mourning so much for your daughter as for the state of public affairs and the victory of others. I am ashamed to say any more to you on this subject, lest I should appear to distrust your wisdom. Therefore I will only make one suggestion before bringing my letter to an end. We have seen you on many occasions bear good fortune with a noble dignity which greatly enhanced your fame: now is the time for you to convince us that you are able to bear bad fortune equally well, and that it does not appear to you to be a heavier burden than you ought to think it. I would not have this be the only one of all the virtues that you do not possess.

As far as I am concerned, when I learn that your mind is more composed, I will write you an account of what is going on here, and of the condition of the province. Good-bye.

DLV (A XII, 12)

As to the dowry, make a clean sweep of the business all the more. To transfer the debt to Balbus is a rather high and mighty proceeding. 53 Settle it on any terms. It is discreditable that the matter should hang fire from these difficulties. The "island" at Arpinum might suit a real "dedication," but I fear its out-of-the-way position would diminish the honour of the departed. My mind is therefore set on suburban pleasure-grounds: but I will wait to inspect them when I Come to town. As to Epicurus, 54 it shall be as you please: though I intend to introduce a change in future into this sort of impersonation. You would hardly believe how keen certain men are for this honour. I shall therefore fall back on the ancients: that can create no jealousy. I have nothing to say to you; but in spite of that, I have resolved to write every day, to get a letter out of you. Not that I expect anything definite from your letters, but yet somehow or another I do expect it. Wherefore, whether you have anything or nothing to say, yet write something and—take care of yourself.

DLVI (A XII, 21)

I have read Brutus's letter, and hereby return it to you. it was not at all a well-informed answer to the criticisms which you had sent him. But that is his affair. Yet it is discreditable that he should be ignorant of this. He thinks that Cato was the first to deliver his speech as to the punishment of the conspirators, whereas everyone except Caesar had spoken before him. And whereas Caesar's own speech, delivered from the praetorian bench, was so severe, he imagines that those of the consulars were less so-Catulus, Servilius, the Luculli, Curio, Torquatus, Lepidus, Gellius, Volcatius, Figulus, Cotta, Lucius Caesar, Gaius Piso, Manius Glabrio, and even the consuls-designate Silanus and Muraena. "Why, then," you may say, "was the vote on Cato's motion?" Because he had expressed the same decision in clearer and fuller words. Our friend Brutus again confines his commendation of me to my having brought the matter before the senate, without a word of my having unmasked the plot, of my having urged that measures should be taken, of having made up my mind on the subject before I brought it before the senate. It was because Cato praised these proceedings of mine to the skies, and moved that they should be put on record, that the division took place on his motion. Brutus again thinks he pays me a high compliment in designating me as "the most excellent consul." Why, what opponent ever put it in more niggardly terms? But to your other criticisms what a poor answer! He only asks you to make the correction as to the decree of the senate. He would have done that much even at the suggestion of his copyist. But once more that is his affair.

As to the suburban pleasure-grounds, as you approve of them, come to some settlement. You know my means. If, however, we get any more out 55 of Faberius, there is no difficulty. But even without him I think I can get along. The pleasure-grounds of Drusus at least are for sale, perhaps those of Lamia and Cassius also. But this when we meet.

About Terentia I can say nothing more to the point than you say in your letter. Duty must be my first consideration: if I have made any mistake, I would rather that I had reason to be dissatisfied with her than she with me. A hundred sestertia have to be paid to Ovia, wife of C. Lollius. Eros says he can't do it without me: I suppose because some land has to pass at a valuation between us. 56 I could wish that he had told you. For if the matter, as he writes, is arranged, and he is not lying on that very point, it could have been settled by your agency. Pray look into and settle the business.

You urge me to reappear in the forum: that is a place which I ever avoided even in my happier days. Why, what have I to do with a forum when there are no law courts, no senate-house, and when men are always obtruding on my sight whom I cannot see with any patience? You say people call for my presence at Rome, and are unwilling to allow me to be absent, or at any rate beyond a certain time: I assure you that it is long since I have valued your single self higher than all those people. Nor do I undervalue myself even, and I much prefer abiding by my own judgment than by that of all the rest. Yet, after all, I go no farther than the greatest philosophers think allowable, all whose writings of whatever kind bearing on that point I have not only read—which is itself being a brave invalid and taking one's physic—but have transcribed in my own essay. That at least did not look like a mind crushed and prostrate. From the use of these remedies do not call me back to the crowds of Rome, lest I have a relapse.


I DO not recognize your usual consideration for me in throwing the whole burden upon my shoulders in regard to Terentia. For those are precisely the wounds which I cannot touch without a loud groan. Therefore I beg you to make the fairest settlement in your power. Nor do I demand of you anything more than you can do; yet it is you alone who can see what is fair.

As to Rutilia, since you seem to be in doubt, please write and tell me when you ascertain the truth, and do so as soon as possible. Also whether Clodia survived her son Decimus Brutus, the ex-consul. The former may be ascertained from Marcellus, or at any rate from Postumia; the latter from M. Cotta or Syrus or Satyrus.

As to the suburban pleasure-grounds, I am particularly urgent with you. I must employ all my own means, and those of men whom I know will not fail to help me: though I shall be able to do it with my own. I have also some property which I could easily sell. But even if I don't sell, but pay the vendor interest on the purchase money—though not for more than a year—I can get what I want if you will assist me. The most readily available are those of Drusus, for he wants to sell. The next I think are those of Lamia; but he is away. Nevertheless, pray scent out anything you can. Silius does not make any use of his either, and he will be very easily satisfied by being paid interest on the purchase money. Manage the business your own way; and do not consider what my purse demands-about which I care nothing—but what I want.


I thought that your letter was going to tell me some news, to judge from the opening sentence, which said that though I did not care about what was going on in Spain, you would yet write and tell me of it: but in point of fact you only answered my remark about the forum and senate-house. "But your town-house," you say, "is a forum." What do I want with a town-house itself, if I have no forum? Ruined, ruined, my dear Atticus! That has been the case for a long while, I know: but it is only now that I confess it, when I have lost the one thing that bound me to life. Accordingly, I seek solitude: and yet, if any necessity does take me to Rome, I shall try, if I possibly can—and I know I can—to let no one perceive my grief except you, and not even you if it can by any means be avoided. And, besides, there is this reason for my not coming. You remember the questions Aledius asked you. If they are so troublesome even now, what do you think they will be, if I come to Rome? Yes, settle about Terentia in the sense of your letter; and relieve me from this addition—though not the heaviest—to my bitter sorrows. To shew you that, though in mourning, I am not prostrate, listen to this. You have entered in your Chronicle the consulship in which Carneades and the famous embassy came to Rome. I want to know now what the reason of it was. It was about Oropus I think, but am not certain. And if so, what were the points in dispute? 57 And farther, who was the best known Epicurean of that time and head of the Garden at Athens? Also who were the famous political writers at Athens? These facts too, I think, you can ascertain from the book of Apollodorus.

I am sorry to hear about Attica; but since it is a mild attack, I feel confident of all going well. About Gamala I had no doubt. For why otherwise was his father Ligus so fortunate ? 58 For what could I say of myself, who am in-capable of having my grief removed, though all my wishes should be gratified. I had heard of the price put on Drusus's suburban pleasure-grounds, which you mention, and, as I think, it was yesterday that I wrote to you about it: but be the price what it may, what one is obliged to have is a good bargain. In my eyes, whatever you think—for I know what I think of myself—it brings a certain alleviation, if not of sorrow, yet of my sense of solemn obligation. I have written to Sicca because he is intimate with L. Cotta. If we don't come to terms about pleasure-grounds beyond the Tiber, Cotta has some at Ostia in a very frequented situation, though confined as to space. Enough, however, and more than enough for this purpose. Please think the matter over. And don't be afraid of the cost of the pleasure-grounds. I don't want plate, nor rich furniture coverings, nor particular picturesque spots: I want this. I perceive too by whom I can be aided. But speak to Silius about it. There's no better fellow. I have also given Sicca a commission. He has written back to say that he has made an appointment with him. He will therefore write and tell me what he has arranged, and then you must see to it.

DLIX (A XII, 24)

I am much obliged to Aulus Silius for having settled the business: for I did not wish to disavow him, and yet I was nervous as to what I could afford. Settle about Ovia on the terms you mention. As to my son, it seems time to arrange. But I want to know whether he can get a draft changed at Athens, or whether he must take the money with him. And with regard to the whole affair, pray consider how and when you think that he ought to go. You will be able to learn from Aledius whether Publilius is going to Africa, and when: please inquire and write me word.

To return to my own triflings, pray inform me whether Publius Crassus, son of Venuleia, died in the lifetime of his father P. Crassus the ex-consul, as I seem to remember that he did, or after it. I also want to know about Regillus, son of Lepidus, whether I am right in remembering that his father survived him. Pray settle the business about Cispius, as also about Precius. As to Attica—capital! Give my kind regards to her and Pilia.

DLX (A XII, 25)

Sicca has written to me fully about Silius, and says that he has reported the matter to you—as you too mention in your letter. I am satisfied both with the property and the terms, only I should prefer paying ready money to assigning property at a valuation. For Silius will not care to have mere show-places: while, though I can get on with my present rents, I can scarcely do so with less. How am I to pay ready money? You can get 600 sestertia (about £4,800) from Hermogenes, especially if it is absolutely necessary, and I find I have 6oo in hand. For the rest of the purchase money I will even pay interest to Silius, pending the raising of the money from Faberius or from some debtor of Faberius. I shall besides get some from other quarters. But manage the whole business yourself. I, in fact, much prefer these suburban pleasure-grounds to those of Drusus: and the latter have never been regarded as on a level with them. Believe me, I am actuated by a single motive, as to which I know that I am infatuated. But pray continue as before to indulge my aberration. You talk about a "solace for my old age": that is all over and done with; my objects now are quite different.

DLXI (A XII, 26)

SICCA says in his letter that, even if he has not concluded the business with Aulus Silius, he is coming to me on the 23rd. Your engagements are sufficient excuse in my eyes, for I know what they are. Of your wish to be with me, or rather your strong desire and yearning, I feel no doubt. You mention Nicias : 59 if I were in a frame of mind to enjoy his cultivated conversation, there is no one whom I would have preferred to have with me. But solitude and retirement are now my proper sphere. And it was because Sicca is likely to be content with them, that I am the more looking forward to his visit. Besides, you know how delicate our friend Nicias is, how particular about his comforts and his habitual diet. Why should I consent to be a nuisance to him, when I am not in a state of mind to receive any pleasure from him? However, I am gratified by his wish. Your letter was all on one subject, 60 as to which I have resolved to make no answer. For I hope I have obtained your consent to relieve me of that vexation. Love to Pilia and Attica.


As to the bargain with Silius, though I am acquainted with the terms, still I expect to hear all about it today from Sicca. Cotta's property, with which you say that you are not acquainted, is beyond Silius's villa, which I think you do know: it is a shabby and very small house, with no farm land, and with sufficient ground for no purpose except for what I want it. What I am looking out for is a frequented position. But if the bargain for Silius's pleasure-grounds is completed, that is, if you complete it—for it rests entirely with you—there is of course no occasion for us to be thinking about Cotta's. As to my son, I will do as you say: I will leave the date to him. Please see that he is able to draw for what money he needs. If you have been able to get anything out of Aledius, as you say, write me word. I gather from your letter, as you certainly will from mine, that we neither of us have anything to say. Yet I cannot omit writing to you day after day on the same subjects—now worn threadbare—in order to get a letter from you. Still, tell me anything you know about Brutus. For I suppose he knows by this time where to expect Pansa. If; as usual, on the frontier of his province, it seems likely that he will be at Rome about the 1st of April. I could wish that it might be later: for I have many motives for shunning the city. 61 Accordingly, I am even thinking whether I should draw up some excuse to present to him. That I see might easily be found. But we have time enough to think about it. Love to Pilia and Attica.


I have learnt nothing more about Silius from Sicca in conversation than I knew from his letter: for he had written in full detail If; therefore, you have an interview with him, write and tell me your views. As to the subject on which you say a message was sent to me, whether it was sent or not I don't know; at any rate not a word has reached me. Pray therefore go on as you have begun, and if you come to any settlement on such terms as to satisfy her—though I, for my part, think it impossible-take my son with you on your visit, if you think it right. It is of some importance to him to seem to have wished to do something to please. I have no interest in it beyond what you know, which I regard as important.

You call upon me to resume my old way of life: well, it had long been my practice to bewail the republic, and that I was still doing, though somewhat less violently, for I had something capable of giving me ease. Now I positively pursue the old way of life and old employments; nor do I think that in that matter I ought to care for the opinion of others. My own feeling is more in my eyes than the talk of them all. As to finding consolation for myself in literature, I am content with my amount of success. I have lessened the outward signs of mourning: my sorrow I neither could, nor would have wished to lessen if I could.

About Triarius you rightly interpret my wishes. But take no step unless the family are willing. I love him though he is no more, I am guardian to his children, I am attached to the whole household. As to the business of Castricius,—if Castricius will accept a sum for the slaves, and that at the present value of money, certainly nothing could be more advantageous. But if it has come to the point of his taking the slaves themselves away, I don't think it is fair, as you ask me to tell you what I really think: for I don't want my brother Quintus to have any trouble, and in that I think I have gathered that you agree with me. If Publilius is waiting for the aequinox—as you say that Aledius tells you—I think he must be on the point of sailing. He told me, however, that he was going by way of Sicily. 62 Which of the two it is, and when, I should like to know. And I should like you some time or other, when convenient to yourself, to see young Lentulus, 63 and assign to his service such of the slaves as you may think right. Love to Pilia and Attica.


SILIUS, you say, sees you today. Tomorrow therefore, or rather as soon as you can, you will write and tell me, if there is anything to tell after you have seen him. I neither avoid Brutus, nor after all expect any consolation from him. But there are reasons for my not wishing to be at Rome at the present juncture; and if those reasons remain in force, I must find some excuse with Brutus, and as at present advised they seem likely to remain in force. About the suburban pleasure-grounds do, I beseech you, come to some conclusion. The main point is what you know it to be. Another thing is that I want something of the sort for myself: for I cannot exist in a crowd, nor yet remain away from you. For this plan of mine I find nothing more suitable than the spot you mention, and on that matter pray tell me what you advise.

I am quite convinced—and the more so because I perceive that you think the same—that I am regarded with warm affection by Oppius and Balbus. Inform them how strongly and for what reason I wish to have suburban pleasure-grounds, and that it is only possible if the business of Faberius 64 is settled; and ask them therefore whether they will promise the future payment. Even if I must sustain some loss in taking ready money, induce them to go as far as they can in the matter—for payment in full is hopeless. You will discover, in fact, whether they are at all disposed to assist my design. If they are so, it is a great help; if not, let us push on in any way we can. Look upon it—as you say in your letter—as a solace for my old age, or as a pro-vision for my grave. The property at Ostia is not to be thought of. If we can't get this one—and I don't think Lamia will sell—we must try that of Damasippus.

DLXV (A XII, 33)

As I wrote to you yesterday, if Silius is the sort of man you think and Drusus will not be obliging, I would have you approach Damasippus. He, I think, has broken up his property on the Tiber into lots of I don't know how many acres apiece, with a fixed price for each, the amount of which is not known to me. Write and tell me therefore whatever you have settled upon. I am very much troubled about our dear Attica's ill-health: it almost makes me fear that some indiscretion has been committed. Yet the good character of her tutor, 65 the constant attention of her doctor, and the careful conduct in every particular of the whole establishment forbid me on the other hand to entertain that suspicion. Take care of her therefore. I can write no more.


I am trying to think of something to say to you; but there is nothing. The same old story every day. I am much obliged to you for going to see Lentulus. 66 Assign some slaves to his service: I leave the number and choice of them to you. As to Silius being willing to sell, and on the question of price, you seem to be afraid first that he won't sell, and secondly not at that price. Sicca thought otherwise; but I agree with you. Accordingly, by his advice I wrote to Egnatius. Silius wishes you to speak to Clodius: you have my full consent; and it is more convenient that you should do so than, as he wished me to do, that I should write to Clodius 67 myself. As to the slaves of Castricius I think Egnatius is making a very good bargain, as you say that you think will be the case. With Ovia pray let some settlement be made. As you say it was night when you wrote, I expect more in today's letter.

DLXVII (A XII, 31.3, 32)

EGNATIUS has written to me. If he has said anything to you, as the matter can be settled most conveniently through him, please write and tell me. I think too that the negotiation should be pressed. For I don't see any possibility of coming to terms with Silius. Love to Pilia and Attica.

What follows is by my own hand. Pray see what is to be done. Publilia has written to tell me that her mother, on the advice 'of Publilius, is coming to see me with him and that she will come with them if I will allow it: she begs me in many words of intreaty that she may be allowed to do so, and that I would answer her letter. You see what an unpleasant business it is. I wrote back to say that it would be even more painful than it was when I told her that I wished to be alone, and that therefore I did not wish her to come to see me at this time. I thought that, if I made no answer, she would come with her mother: now I don't think she will. For it is evident that her letter is not her own composition. Now this is the very thing I wish to avoid, which I see will occur-namely, that they will come to my house: and the one way of avoiding it is to fly away. I would rather not, but I must. I beg you to find out the last day I can remain here without being caught. Act, as you say, with moderation.

I would have you propose to my son, that is, if you think it fair, to adapt the expenses of this sojourn abroad to what he would have been quite content with, if; as he thought of doing, he had remained at Rome and hired a house—I mean to the rents of my property in the Argiletum and Aventine And in making that proposal to him, pray arrange the rest of the business for our supplying him with what he needs from those rents. I will guarantee that neither Bibulus nor Acidinus nor Messalla, who I hear are to be at Athens, will spend more than the sum to be received from these rents. Therefore, please investigate who the tenants are and what their rent is, and take care that the tenant is a man to pay to the day. See also what journey money and outfit will suffice. There is Certainly no need of a carriage and horses at Athens. For such as he wants for the journey there is enough and to spare at home, as you observe yourself.

DLXVIII (A XII, 31.1-2)

SICCA expresses surprise at Silius having changed his mind. He makes his son the excuse, and I don't think it a bad one, for he is a son after his own heart. Accordingly, I am more surprised at your saying that you think he will sell, if we would include something else which he is anxious to get rid of, as he had of his own accord determined not to do so. You ask me to fix my maximum price and to say how muck I prefer those pleasure grounds of Drusus. I have never set foot in them. I know Coponius's villa to be old and not very spacious, the wood a fine one, but I don't know what either brings in, and that after all I think we ought to know. But for me either one or the other is to be valued by my occasion for it rather than by the market price. Pray consider whether I could acquire them or not. If I were to sell my claim on Faberius, I don't doubt my being able to settle for the grounds of Silius even by a ready money payment, if he could only be induced to sell. If he had none for sale, I would have recourse to Drusus, even at the large price at which Egnatius told you that he was willing to sell. For Hermogenes can give me great assistance in finding the money. But I beg you to allow me the disposition of an eager purchaser; yet, though I am under the influence of this eagerness and of my sorrow, I am willing to be ruled by you.

DLXIX (A XII, 34, 35.1)

I could get on here even without Sicca—for Tiro is better—very comfortably considering my troubles, but as you urge me to take care not to be caught 68 (from which I am to understand that you are unable to fix a day for the departure I mentioned), I thought it would be more convenient to go to Rome, which I see is your opinion also. Tomorrow therefore I shall be in Sicca's suburban villa; thence, as you advise, I think I shall stay in your house at Ficulea. 69 We will talk about the subject you mention when we meet, as I am coming in person. I am extraordinarily touched by your kindness, thoroughness, and wisdom, both in carrying out my business and in forming and suggesting plans to me in your letters. However, if you come to any understanding with Silius, even on the very day on which I am to arrive at Sicca's house, please let me know, and above all, what part of the site he wishes to withdraw from the sale. You say "the farthest"—take care that it isn't the very spot, for the sake of which I thought about the matter at all. 70 I enclose a letter from Hirtius just received, and written in a kindly spirit.


Cicero to Caesar, imperator.71I recommend Precilius to your special favour, the son of a connexion of your own, a very intimate friend of mine, and a most excellent man. For the young man himself I have an extraordinary affection on account of his rectitude, culture, and the spirit and affection he has displayed to myself: but of his father also I have had practical reason to know and thoroughly learn what a warm friend he has ever been to me. Now see!—this is the man that more than anyone else has been used to ridicule and chide me for not attaching myself to you, especially when invited to do so by you in the most Complimentary manner: “But in my breast my heart he ne'er could move.” For I heard our nobles shouting: “ Be staunch, and unborn men shall speak thee fair.
He spake, and on him fell black clouds of woe.
” However, these same men give me consolation also: they wish even now—though once singed—to inflame me with the fire of glory, and speak thus: "Nay, not a coward's death nor shorn of fame, But after some high deed to live for aye." 72 But they move me less than of yore, as you see. Accordingly from the high style of Homer I transfer myself to the true maxims of Euripides: “Out on the sage that cannot guide himself!” This is a verse that the elder Precilius praises to the skies, and says that a man may be able to see both "before and behind," and yet “Still may excel and rise above the crowd.” But to return to what I began with: you will greatly oblige me, if you give this young man the benefit of the kindness which so distinguishes you, and will add to what I think you would do for the sake of the Precilii themselves as much as my recommendation may be worth. I have adopted a new style of letter to you, that you might understand that my recommendation is no common one. 73

DLXXI (F V, 13)

Although the consolation contained in your letter is in itself exceedingly gratifying to me—for it displays the greatest kindness joined to an equal amount of good sense-yet quite the greatest profit which I received from that letter was the assurance that you were shewing a noble disdain of human vicissitudes, and were thoroughly armed and prepared against fortune. And I assert it to be the highest compliment to philosophy that a man should not depend upon externals, nor allow his calculations as to the happiness or unhappiness of his life to be governed by anything outside himself. Now this conviction, though it had never been altogether lost—for it had sunk deep—had yet by the violence of tempests and a combination of misfortunes been considerably shaken and loosened at its roots. I see that you are for giving it support, and I also feel that by your last letter you have actually done so, and that with considerable success. Therefore, in my opinion, I ought to repeat this often, and not merely hint to you, but openly to declare, that nothing could be more acceptable to me than your letter. But while the arguments which you have collected with such taste and learning help to console me, yet nothing does so more than the clear perception I have got of the unbending firmness and unshaken confidence of your spirit, not to imitate which I think would be an utter disgrace. And so I consider that I am even braver than yourself—who give me lessons in courage—in this respect, that you appear to me still to cherish a hope that things will be some day better: at least "the changes and chances of gladiatorial combats" and your illustrations, as well as the arguments collected by you in your essay, were meant to forbid me entirely to despair of the republic. Accordingly, in one respect it is not so wonderful that you should be braver, since you still cherish hope: in another it is surprising that you should still have any hope. For what is there that is not so weakened as to make you acknowledge it to be practically destroyed and extinct? Cast your eye upon all the limbs of the republic, with which you are most intimately acquainted: you will not find one that is not broken or enfeebled. I would have gone into details, if I had seen things more clearly than you see them, or had been able to mention them without sorrow: though in accordance with your lessons and precepts all sorrow ought to be put away. Therefore I will bear my domestic misfortunes in the spirit of your admonition, and those of the state perhaps with even a little more courage than even you, who admonish me. For you are supported, as you say, by some hope; but I shall keep up my courage though I despair of everything, as in spite of that you exhort and admonish me to do. Yes, you give me pleasant reminders of what my conscience tells me I have done, and of those achievements which I performed with you among my foremost supporters. For I did for my country at least not less than I was bound to do, certainly more than was demanded from the spirit or wisdom of any one human being. Pray pardon my saying something about myself. You wished me to be relieved from my sorrow by thinking over these things. Well, even by mentioning them I obtain alleviation. Therefore, according to your advice, I will withdraw myself to the best of my power from all sorrows and anguish, and fix my mind on those topics by which prosperity receives an added charm, and adversity a support. I will be in your society also exactly as much as our respective age and health will allow; and if we cannot be together as much as we desire, we will so enjoy our union of hearts and community of tastes as to seem never separated.


Although at the moment of my writing this letter,74 the end of this most disastrous war appears to be approaching, and already some decisive blow to have been struck, yet I daily mention that you were the one man in that immense army who agreed with me and I with you, and that we two alone saw what terrible evil was involved in that war. For when all hope of peace was shut out, victory itself was likely to be calamitous in its results, since it meant death if you were on the losing, and slavery if on the winning, side. Accordingly I, whom at the time those brave and wise men the Domitii and Lentuli declared to be frightened—and I was so without doubt, for I feared that what actually happened would occur—am now in my turn afraid of nothing, and am prepared for anything that may happen. So long as any precaution seemed possible, I was grieved at its being neglected. Now, however, when all is ruined, when no good can be done by wise policy, the only plan seems to be to bear with resignation whatever occurs: especially as death ends all, and my conscience tells me that, as long as I was able to do so, I consulted for the dignity of the republic and, when that was lost, determined to save its existence. 75 I have written thus much, not with the object of talking about myself, but that you, who have been most closely united with me in sentiment and purpose, might entertain the same thoughts: for it is a great consolation to remember, even when there has been a disaster, that your presentiments were after all right and true. And I only hope we may eventually enjoy some form of constitution, and may live to compare the anxieties which we endured at the time when we were looked upon as timid, because we said that what has actually happened would do so. For your own fortunes I assure you that you have nothing to fear beyond the destruction affecting the republic in general; and of me I would have you think as of one who, to the best of his ability, will ever be ready with the utmost zeal to support your safety and that of your children. Good-bye.


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.


I BEG you not to think that forgetfulness of you is the cause of my writing to you less often than I used to do; but either illness-from which however I am now recovering—or absence from the city, which prevents my knowing who is starting to where you are. Wherefore I would have you make up your mind that I always remember you with the most perfect affection, and regard all your interests as of no less concern to me than my own. That your case has experienced more vicissitudes than people either wished or expected is not, believe me, in these bad times a thing to give you anxiety. For it is inevitable that the republic should either be burdened by an unending war, or should at last recover itself by its cessation, or should utterly perish. If arms are to carry the day, you have no need to fear either the party by whom you are being taken back, nor that which you actually assisted; if—when arms are either laid down by a composition or thrown down from sheer weariness—the state ever recovers its breath, you will be permitted to enjoy your position and property. But if universal ruin is to be the result, and the end is to be what that very clear-sighted man Marcus Antonius used long ago to fear when he suspected that all this misfortune was impending, there is this consolation—a wretched one indeed, especially for such a citizen and such a man as yourself, but yet the only one we can have—that no one may make a private grievance of what affects all alike. If, as I am sure you will, you rightly conceive the meaning of these few words—for it was not proper to trust more to an epistle-you will certainly understand even without a letter from me that you have something to hope, nothing under this or any definite form of the constitution to fear. If there is general ruin, as you would not wish, even if you could, to survive the republic, you must bear your fortune, especially one which involves no blame to you. But enough of this. Pray write and tell me how you are and where you intend to stay, that I may know where to write or come.


I HAD rather that even my own death had been the cause of your being without a letter from me than the misfortune which has so grievously afflicted me. I should have borne it at least with greater firmness if I had had you; for your wise conversation, no less than your marked affection for me, would have been a support. But since I am about, as I think, to see you before long, you shall find that though much broken I am yet in a state to receive great assistance from you; not that I am so crushed as to be unable to remember my manhood, or to think it right to give in to fortune. But in spite of that the old cheerfulness and gaiety, in which you took more delight than anybody else, have all been taken from me. Nevertheless, you will find in me the same fortitude and firmness—if I ever had these qualities—as you left.

You say that you have to fight my battles: I don't so much care about my detractors being refuted by you, as I wish it to be known—as is plainly the case—that I retain your affection. I urge you repeatedly to let it be so, and to pardon the brevity of my letter; for in the first place I think I shall see you very shortly, and in the second place I have not yet sufficiently recovered my calmness for writing.

DLXXVI (A XII, 35.2)

BEFORE I left your house 76 last it never occurred to me that if a sum was spent on the monument in excess of some amount or other allowed by the law, the same sum has to be paid to the exchequer. 77 This would not have disturbed me at all, except that somehow or another-perhaps unreasonably—I should not like it to be known by any name except that of a "shrine." That being my wish, I fear I cannot accomplish it without a change of site. Consider, please, what to make of this. For though I am feeling the strain less than I did, and have almost recovered my equanimity, yet I want your advice. Therefore I beg you again and again-more earnestly than you wish or allow yourself to be intreated by me—to give your whole mind to considering this question.


I WISH to have a shrine built, and that wish cannot be rooted out of my heart. I am anxious to avoid any likeness to a tomb, not so much on account of the penalty of the law as in order to attain as nearly as possible to an apotheosis. This I could do if I built it in the villa itself, but, as we often observed to each other, I dread the changes of owners. Wherever I constructed it on the land, I think I could secure that posterity should respect its sanctity. 78 These foolish ideas of mine—for I confess them to be so-you must put up with: for I don't feel such confidence in taking even myself into my own confidence as I do in taking you. But if you approve of the idea, the site, and the plan, pray read the law and send it to me. If any method of evading it occurs to you, I will adopt it.

If you are writing to Brutus at all, reproach him, unless you think you had better not, for not staying at my Cuman villa for the reason he gave you. For when I come to think of it I am of opinion that he couldn't have done anything ruder. Finally, if you think it right to carry out the idea of the shrine as we began, pray urge on Cluatius and stir him up: for even if we decide on a different site, I think I must avail myself of his labour and advice. Perhaps you'll be at your villa tomorrow.

DLXXVIII (A XII, 37.1-3)

I received two letters from you yesterday, the first delivered on the previous day to Hilarus, the other on the same day to a letter-carrier; and I learnt from my freedman Aegypta, on the same day, that Pilia and Attica were quite well. Thanks for Brutus's letter. He wrote me a letter also, which did not reach me till the 13th day. I am sending you that letter itself, and the copy of my answer to it.

As to the shrine, if you don't find me some sort of suburban pleasure-grounds, which you really must find me, if you value me as highly as I am sure you do, I much approve of your suggestion as to the Tusculan site. However acute in hitting on plans you may be, as you are, yet unless you had been very anxious for me to secure what I greatly wished, that idea could never have come into your head so aptly. But somehow or other what I want is a frequented spot. So you must manage to get me some suburban pleasure-grounds. This is best to be found on Scapula's land: besides, there is the nearness to the city, so that you can go there without spending the whole day at the villa. Therefore, before you leave town, I should much like you to call on Otho, 79 if he is at Rome. If it comes to nothing, I shall succeed in making you angry with me, however accustomed you are to putting up with my folly. For Drusus at least is willing to sell. So, even if nothing else turns up, it will be my own fault if I don't buy. Pray take care that I don't make a mistake in this business. The only way of making certain of that is our being able to get some of Scapula's land. Also let me know how long you intend being in your suburban villa. With Terentia I need your power of conciliation as well as your influence. But do as you think right. For I know that whatever is to my interest is a subject of more anxiety to you than to myself.

DLXXIX (A XII, 37.4)

Hirtius has written to tell me that Sextus Pompieus has quitted Cordova and fled into Northern Spain, and that Gnaeus has fled I don't know whither, nor do I care. 80 I know nothing more. Hirtius wrote from Narbo on the 18th of April. You mention Caninius's shipwreck as though the news was doubtful. Please write, therefore, if there is any more certain intelligence. You bid me dismiss my melancholy: you will have done much to remove it if you secure me a site for the shrine. Many thoughts occur to me in favour of an apotheosis; but I must certainly have a site. Therefore, go and call on Otho also.

DLXXX (A XII, 38.1-2)

I have no doubt that your being overwhelmed with business accounts for your not sending me a letter. But what a rascal not to wait for your convenience, when that was the sole motive for my having sent him! By this time, unless anything has happened to detain you, I suspect that you are in your suburban villa. But I am here, writing from one day's end to another without getting any relief, though I do at any rate distract my thoughts. Asinius Pollio has written to me about my infamous relation. 81 The younger Balbus told me about him pretty plainly, Dolabella in dark hints, and now Pollio has done so with the utmost openness. I should have been much annoyed, if there had been room in my heart for any new sorrow. Yet, could there be anything more blackguardly? What a dangerous fellow! Though in my eyes indeed- But I must restrain my indignation! As there is nothing that is pressing, only write to me if you have time.

DLXXXI (A XII, 38.3-4)

You think that by this time my composure of spirit ought to be en evidence, and you say that certain persons speak with more severity of me than either you or Brutus repeat in your letters: if anybody supposes me to be crushed in spirit and unmanned, let them know the amount of my literary labours and their nature. I believe, if they are only reasonable men, they would think, if I am so far recovered as to bring a disengaged mind to writing on difficult subjects, that I am not open to their criticism; or if I have selected a diversion from sorrow in the highest degree noble and worthy of a scholar, that I even deserve to be praised. But though I do everything I can to relieve my sorrow, pray bring to a conclusion what I see that you are as much concerned about as I am myself. I regard this as a debt, the burden of which cannot be lightened unless I pay it, or see a possibility of paying it, that is, unless I find a site such as I wish. If Scapula's heirs, as you say that Otho told you, think of cutting up the pleasure-grounds into four lots, and bidding for them between themselves, there is of course no room for a purchaser. But if they are to come into the market we will see what can be done. For that ground once belonging to Publicius, and now to Trebonius and Cusinius, has been suggested to me. But you know it is a town building site. I don't like it at all. Clodia's I like very much, but I don't think they are for sale. As to Drusus's pleasure-grounds, though you say that you dislike them, I shall take refuge in them after all, unless you find something. I don't mind the building, for I shall build nothing that I should not build even if I don't have them. "Cyrus, books IV and V" pleased me about as much as the other works of Antisthenes 82 —a man of acuteness rather than of learning.


As the letter-carrier arrived without a letter from you, I imagined the your reason for not writing was what you mentioned yesterday in the very epistle to which I am now replying. Yet, after all, I was expecting to hear something from you about Asinius Pollio's letter. But I am too apt to judge of your leisure by my own. However, if nothing imperative occurs, I absolve you from the necessity of writing, unless you are quite at leisure. About the letter-carriers I would have done as you suggest, had there been any letters positively necessary, as there were some time ago, when, though the days were shorter, the carriers nevertheless arrived every day up to time, and there was something to say-about Silius, Drusus, and certain other things. At present, if Otho had not cropped up, there would have been nothing to write about: and even that has been deferred. Nevertheless, I feel relieved when I talk to you at a distance, and much more even when I read a letter from you. But since you are out of town—for so I suppose—and there is no immediate necessity for writing, there shall be a lull in our letters, unless anything new turns up.


What the nature of Caesar's invective in answer to my panegyric 83 is likely to be, I have seen clearly from the book, which Hirtius has sent me, in which he collects Cato's faults, but combined with very warm praise of myself. Accordingly, I have sent the book to Musca with directions to give it to your copyists. As I wish it to be made public: to facilitate that please give orders to your men. I often try my hand at an "essay of advice." 84 I can't hit upon anything to say: and yet I have by me Aristotle and Theopompus "to Alexander." But where is the analogy? They were writing what was at once honourable to themselves and acceptable to Alexander. Can you find any similar circumstance in my case? For my part nothing occurs to me. You say in your letter that you fear that both our popularity and influence will suffer by such mourning as mine. I don't know what people object to or expect. That I should not grieve? How can that be? That I should not be prostrated? Who was ever less so? While I was finding consolation in your house, who was ever refused admittance to me? Who ever came to see me who felt any awkwardness? I came to Astura from your house. Those cheerful friends of yours who find fault with me cannot read as much as I have written. Well or ill is not the question: but the substance of my writings was such as no one could have composed who was broken down in spirit. I have been thirty days in your suburban villa. 85 Who ever failed to find me at home or reluctant to converse? At this very moment the amount of my reading and writing is such that my people find a holiday more laborious than I do working days. If anyone wants to know why I am not at Rome,—"because it is the vacation." Or why I am not staying at the humble places of mine on this coast, which are now in season,—"because I should have been annoyed by the crowd of visitors there." I am therefore staying at the place, where the man who considered Baiae the queen of watering-places used year after year to spend this part of the season. When I come to Rome I will give no cause for unfavourable remark either by my look or my conversation. That cheerfulness by which I used to temper the sadness of the situation I have lost for ever; but firmness and fortitude either of heart or speech will not be found wanting. As to Scapula's pleasure-grounds, it seems possible that as a favour, partly to you and partly to me, we might secure their being put up to auction. Unless that is done, we shall be cut out. But if we come to a public auction, we shall outbid Otho's means by our eagerness. For as to what you say about Lentulus, he is not solvent. 86 If only the Faberian business is certain, 87 and you are making an effort, as I am sure you are doing, we shall get what we want. You ask how long I am staying on here. Only a few days: but I am not certain. As soon as I have settled, I will write to you: and write to me yourself, and tell me how long you intend to be in your suburban villa. The day on which I am sending this to you, I have the same news as you give me about Pilia and Attica, both by letter and messenger.


If you are well, I am glad: I am as usual, or even a little worse than usual. I have often wished to see you. I was surprised to find that you have not been at Rome since your departure: 88 and I am still surprised at it. I don't feel certain as to the exact motive which withdraws you from Rome. If it is solitude that charms you, provided that you write or carry on some of your accustomed pursuits, I rejoice, and have no fault to find with your resolution. For nothing can be pleasanter than that, I don't mean merely in such unhappy and grievous times as these, but even when everything is peaceful and answerable to our wishes. Especially if your mind is either so far wearied as to need repose after heavy engagements, or so richly endowed as ever to be producing something capable of charming others and adding brilliancy to your own reputation. If, however, as you indicate, you have surrendered yourself to tears and melancholy thoughts, I grieve that you are grieving and suffering: I cannot—if you permit me to say what I really think-altogether acquit you of blame. For reflect: will you be the only man not to see what is as clear as day, you whose acuteness detects the most profound secrets? Will you fail to understand that you do no good by daily lamentations? Will you fail to understand that the sorrow is doubled, which your wisdom expects you to remove? Well, if I cannot prevail upon you by persuasion, I put it to you as a personal favour and as a special request, that, if you care to do anything for my sake, you would free yourself from the bonds of that sorrow and return to our society and to your ordinary way of life, whether that which we share in common with you, or that which is characteristic of and peculiar to yourself. My desire is not to worry you, if I cannot give you pleasure, by a display of earnestness on my part: what I desire is to prevent you from abiding by your present purpose. At present these two opposite desires do somewhat puzzle me—I should wish you either in regard to the latter of them to yield to my advice, or in regard to the former not to feel any annoyance with me. Good-bye.

DLXXXV (A XII, 42.1-3)

I never desired you to have a regular day for writing: for I understood the state of things you mention, 89 and yet I suspected or rather was quite aware that there was nothing for you to tell me. On the 10th of the month, indeed, I think you must be out of town and quite see that you have no news to give. However, I shall continue sending you a letter nearly every day. For I prefer writing for nothing to your not having a carrier at hand to whom to give a letter, if anything does turn up which you think I ought to know. Accordingly, I have received on the 10th your letter with its dearth of news. For what was there for you to send? To me however that was not unpleasing, whatever it contained, even if I learnt nothing else but that you had nothing to tell me. Yet, after all, you did say something-about Clodia. Where then is she, and when does she arrive? I like her property so much, that I put it next to Otho's above all others. But I don't think that she will sell, for she likes it and is rich: and as for that other, you are quite aware of the difficulty. But pray let us exert ourselves to hit upon some way of obtaining what I desire. I think of leaving this place on the 16th: but it will be either to Tusculum or my town house, and thence perhaps to Arpinum. when I know for certain I will write you word.


YOUR perfect affection manifests itself in every sentence of the last letter which I received from you: not that it was anything new to me, but all the same it was grateful to my feelings and all that I could desire. I should have called it "delightful," had not that word been lost to me for ever: and not for that one reason which you imagine, and in regard to which you chide me severely, though in the gentlest and most affectionate terms, but because what ought to have been the remedies for that sorrow are all gone. Well then! Am I to seek comfort with my friends? How many of them are there? You know—for they were common to us both. Some of them have fallen, others I know not how have grown callous. With you indeed I might have gone on living, and there is nothing I should have liked better. Long-standing affection, habit, community of tastes—what tie, I ask, is there lacking to our union? Is it possible then for us to be together? Well, by Hercules, I know not what prevents it: but, at any rate, we have not been so hitherto, though we were neighbours at Tusculum and Puteoli, to say nothing of Rome; where, as the forum is a common meeting-place, nearness of residence does not matter. But by some misfortune our age has fallen upon circumstances, which, just when we ought to be at the very height of prosperity, make us ashamed even of being alive. For what had I to fly to when deprived of everything that could afford me distinction or console my feelings at home or in public life? Literature, I suppose. Well, I devote myself to that without ceasing. But in some indefinable way literature itself seems to shut me out from harbour and refuge, and as it were to reproach me for continuing a life in which there is nothing but extension of utter wretchedness. In these circumstances, do you wonder at my keeping away from the city, in which my own house has no pleasure to offer me, while the state of affairs, the men, the forum, and the senate-house are all utterly repulsive to me? Accordingly, what I seek from literature, on which I spend my whole time, is not a lasting cure but a brief oblivion of pain. But if you and I had done what on account of our daily fears it never occurred to us to do, we should have been always together, and neither would your weak health have annoyed me, nor my sorrow you. Let us aim at securing this as far as it may be possible: for what could suit both of us better? I will see you therefore at an early day.


I have nothing to write about. However, I want to know where you are: if you are out of town or about to be so, when you intend to return. Please, therefore, let me know. And, as you wish to be informed when I leave this place, I write to tell you that I have arranged to stay at Lanuvium on the 16th, thence next day at Tusculum or Rome. Which of the two I am going to do you shall know on the day itself. You know how misery is inclined to grumble. It is not at all in regard to yourself, yet I feel a restless desire as to the shrine. I don't say unless it is built, but unless I see it being built—I venture to say this much, and you will take it as you ever do words of mine—my vexation will redound upon you, not that you deserve that it should do so; but you will have to endure what I say, as you endure and always have endured everything that affects me. Pray concentrate all your methods of consoling me upon this one thing. If you want to know my wishes, they are these: first Scapula's, second Clodia's; then, if Silius refuses and Drusus does not behave fairly, the property of Cusinius and Trebonius. I think there is a third owner; I know for certain that Rebilus was one. If however you are for Tusculum, as you hinted in one of your letters, I will agree to your suggestion. Pray bring this business to a conclusion in any case, if you wish me to feel consoled. You are already finding fault with me in somewhat severer terms than is customary with you; but you do so with the utmost affection, and perhaps tired out by my weakness. Yet all the same, if you wish me to be consoled, this is the very greatest of consolations and, if you would know the truth, the only one.

If you have read Hirtius's letter, which appears to me to be a kind of "first sketch" of the invective which Caesar has composed against Cato, please let me know, when you can conveniently do so, what you think of it. To return to the shrine: unless it is finished this summer, which you perceive is all before us, I shall not consider myself cleared of positive guilt.

DLXXXVIII (A XII, 42.3, 43)

IT has occurred to me to remind you to do the very thing which you are doing. For I think you can transact the business you have in hand more conveniently at home by preventing any interruption. For myself, I intend, as I told you before, to stay at Lanuvium on the 16th, and thence to go to Tusculum or Rome. You shall know which of the two. You say truly that this erection will be a consolation to me. Thank you for saying so: but it is a consolation to a degree beyond what you can conceive. 90 It is a sufficient proof of how keenly desirous I am for it, that I venture to confess it to you, though I think you do not approve of it so very warmly. But you must put up with my aberration in this matter. Put up with it, do I say? Nay, you must even assist it. About Otho I feel uncertain: perhaps because I am eager for it. But after all the property is beyond my means, especially with a competitor in the field anxious to purchase, rich, and one of the heirs. The next to my taste is Clodia's. But if that can't be secured, make any bargain you please. I regard myself as under a more sacred obligation than anyone ever was to any vow. See also about the pleasure-grounds of Trebonius, though the owners are away. But, as I said yesterday, please also consider the Tusculan suggestion, lest the summer slip away. That must not be allowed on any account.

DLXXXIX (A XII, 44, 45.1)

THAT Hirtius wrote to you in an agitated tone about me does not trouble me—for he meant it kindly—and that you did not forward me his letter troubles me much less. For that was even kinder of you. His book which he sent me about Cato I wish to be published by your copyists, to enhance Cato's reputation from the nature of their invectives.

So you are negotiating through Mustela: well, he is well suited for the purpose, and much attached to me since the affair of Pontianus. Therefore make some bargain or other. Why, what else is wanted except an opening for a purchaser? And that could be secured by means of any one of the heirs. But I think Mustela will accomplish that, if you ask him. For myself, you will have secured for me not only a site for the purpose I have at heart, but also a solace for my old age. For the properties of Silius and Drusus do not seem to me to be sufficiently suited to a paterfamilias. What! spend whole days in the country house! 91 My preference therefore is-first Otho's, second Clodia's. If neither of them comes off; we must try and outwit Drusus, or have recourse to the Tusculan site. You have acted prudently in shutting yourself in your house. But pray finish off your business and let me find you once more at leisure. I leave this place for Lanuvium, as I told you, on the 16th. Next day I shall be at Tusculum. For I have well disciplined my feelings, and perhaps conquered them, if only I keep to it. 92 You shall know, therefore, perhaps tomorrow, at the latest the day after.

But what does this mean, pray? Philotimus reports that Pompeius is not invested at Carteia, and that a serious war remains to be fought. Oppius and Balbus had sent me a copy of a letter written to Clodius of Patavium on this investment, saying that they thought it was so. It is just like Philotimus to act the second-rate Fulvinius. 93 Nevertheless, tell me anything you know. About the shipwreck of Caninius also I want to know the truth. 94

While here I have finished two long treatises. 95 It was the only way I had to give my unhappiness the slip, if I may use the expression. As for you, even if you have nothing to tell, as I foresee will be the case, still write to say that you have nothing to say—so long as you don't use these exact words.

DXC (A XIII, 26)

ABOUT Vergilius's share I quite approve. 96 Settle it that way therefore. And indeed it will be my first choice, next to Clodia. If neither comes off, I fear I shall cast prudence to the winds and go for Drusus. 97 My eagerness for the object with which you are acquainted deprives me of all self-control. Accordingly, I come back again and again to the idea of Tusculum. Anything rather than not have it completed this summer. For myself, considering my circumstances, there is no place where I can live at greater ease than Astura. But because my people—I suppose from being unable to endure my melancholy—are in a hurry to get to Rome, though there is nothing to prevent my staying on, yet, as I told you, I shall leave this place, that I may not appear altogether stranded. But whither? From Lanuvium my endeavour is to go to Tusculum. 98 But I will let you know at once. Yes, please write the letters for me. The amount I write is in fact beyond belief—for I work in the night hours also, as I cannot sleep. Yesterday I even finished a letter to Caesar; for you thought I ought to do so. There was no harm in its being written, in case you thought that it was by any chance needed. As things stand now, there is certainly no necessity to send it. But that is as you shall think good. However, I will send you a copy perhaps from Lanuvium, unless it turns out that I come to Rome. But you shall know tomorrow.

DXCI (A XII, 46, 47.1)

I SHALL conquer my feelings, I think, and go from Lanuvium to Tusculum. For either I must for ever give up the use of that property—for the sorrow will remain unchanged, only somewhat less evident—or I must regard it as immaterial whether I go now or ten years hence. 99 For it will not remind me a whit more vividly than the thoughts by which I am racked day and night. What then, you will say, can literature do nothing for you? In this particular I fear rather the reverse. For perhaps I should have been less sensitive without it. In a cultivated mind there is no coarse fibre, no insensibility. Yes, do come as you suggest, but not if it is inconvenient to you. One letter and its answer will be enough. I will even come to see you if necessary. So that shall be as you find it possible.

DXCII (A XII, 47.1-2)

ABOUT Mustela 100 do as you say in your letter, though it is a big business. All the more am I inclining to Clodia. However, in either case we must find out about the money due from Faberius. 101 On that subject it will do no harm if you talk to Balbus, telling him indeed—what is the fact—that we neither will nor can buy unless we recover that debt, and should not venture upon it whilst any doubt remained on that point. But when is Clodia to be at Rome, and at what do you value her property? My eyes are quite turned in her direction: not but that I should prefer the other, but it is a serious venture; and it is besides difficult to outbid one who is at once eager, rich, and an heir. Though in the matter of eagerness I shall yield to none; in other respects we are in a weaker position. But of this when we meet.

DXCIII (A XII, 47.3, 48.1)

YES, go on to publish Hirtius's book. As to Philotimus, I think the same as you do. I can see that the market value of your house will go up with Caesar for a neighbour. 102 I am expecting my letter-carrier today: he will give me news of Pilia and Attica. I can easily believe that you are glad to be at home. But I should like to know how much you have still to do, or whether you have finished by this time. I expect you at Tusculum, and the more because you wrote word to Tiro that you were coming, and added that you thought it necessary.

DXCIV (A XII, 45.2-3)

As to Attica,—excellent! Your depression makes me uneasy, though you say in your letter that it is nothing. I shall find being at Tusculum all the more convenient that I shall get letters from you more frequently and shall see you personally from time to time. In other respects life was more tolerable at Astura, but the thoughts that re-open my wounds do not give me greater pain here than there; though after all, wherever I am, they are ever with me. I mentioned your "neighbour " 103 Caesar to you because I learnt about it from your own letter. I would rather he shared temples with Quirinus than with "Safety." Yes, publish Hirtius, 104 For I entertained precisely the opinion expressed in your letter, that while our friend's ability was shewn by it, the purpose of discrediting Cato was rendered ridiculous.

DXCV (A XII, 50)

As your arrival cheered, so your departure has depressed me. Wherefore, as soon as you can, that is, after attending Sextus's auction, repeat your visit. Even one day will do me good, to say nothing of the pleasure. I would come to Rome myself, that we might enjoy each other's society, if I could see my way on a certain matter.

DXCVI (A XII, 48 AND 49)

I FELT all along how much good your presence was doing me, but I feel it much more since your departure. Wherefore, as I wrote to you before, either I must come bodily to you or you to me, as may be possible. Yesterday, not much after you left my house, I think, some men from the city, as they seemed, brought me a message and a letter from "Gaius Marius, son of Gaius, grandson of Gains," 105 written at great length: "they begged me in the name of our relationship to them, in the name of the famous Marius on whom I had composed a poem, 106 in the name of the eloquence of his grandfather L. Cassius, to undertake his defence,"—he then stated his case in full detail. I wrote back to say that he had no need of counsel, as all power was in the hands of his relation Caesar, who was a most excellent and fair-minded man, but that I would support him.

What times we live in! To think that Curtius should be hesitating as to whether he should stand for the consulship ! 107 But enough of this. I am anxious about Tiro. But I shall know directly how he is: for I sent a man yesterday to see, to whom also I entrusted a letter for you. I enclose a letter for my son. Please let me know what day is advertised for the sale of the pleasure-grounds.


TIRO is come back sooner than I hoped. Nicias has also arrived, and I hear that Valerius is coming today. However many they may be, I shall still be more alone than if you were here by yourself. But I expect you, at any rate after you have done with Peducaeus. 108 You however give some hints of an earlier date; but that must be as you find it possible. As to Vergilius, 109 it is as you say. Yet what I should like to know is when the auction is to be. I see you are of opinion that the letter should be sent to Caesar. Well! I was very much of that opinion also, and the more so that there is not a word in it unbecoming the most loyal of citizens, that is, as loyal as the state of the times permit, to which all political writers teach us that we must bow. But observe, I stipulate that your Caesarian friends read it first. 110 So please see to it. But unless you clearly understand that they approve, it must not be sent. Now you will detect whether they really approve or only pretend to do so. Pretence will in my eyes be equivalent to rejection. You must probe that question.

Tiro told me what you thought ought to be done about Caerellia: that it was unbecoming to me to be in debt; that you were in favour of an assignment : 111 “Fear this and not the other? passing strange!” 112 But this and much besides when we meet. However, we must suspend the payment of the debt to Caerellia till we know about Meton and Faberius.


You know L. Tullius Montanus, who has gone abroad with my son. I have received a letter from his sister's husband saying that Montanus owes Plancus twenty-five sestertia (about £200) as security for Flaminius; and that you had received some request from Montanus on that subject. I should be much obliged if you could assist him either by making an application to Plancus, if that is necessary, or by any other way. I think myself bound to do something for him. If it happens that you know more about the business than I do, or if you think application should be made to Plancus, please write and tell me, that I may know how the matter stands and what sort of application ought to be made. I am waiting to hear what you have done about the letter to Caesar. About Silius I don't so very much care. Yes, you must secure either the grounds of Scapula or Clodia. But you seem to have some hesitation about Clodia—is it as to the time of her return or as to whether her grounds are for sale? But what is this I hear of Spinther having divorced his wife? 113 As to the Latin language, set your mind at ease. You will say—"What, when you write on such subjects?" 114 They are translations. They don't cost so much trouble therefore; I only contribute the language, in which I am well provided.


THOUGH I have nothing to write about to you, I write all the same, because it makes me think that I am talking to you. I have Nicias and Valerius with me here. I am expecting a letter from you early today. Perhaps there will be another in the afternoon, unless your Epirus correspondence hinders you, which I do not wish to interrupt. I am sending you letters for Marcianus and Montanus. Please put them into the same packet, unless you chance to have already despatched it.


In your letter to my son you spoke with a serious gravity, and yet with a moderation which nothing could surpass. It is exactly what I should have wished. Your letters to the Tullii 115 also are extremely wise. So either these letters will fulfil their object or we must think of other measures.

As to money moreover I perceive that you are making every effort or rather have done so. If you succeed, I shall owe the suburban pleasure-grounds to you. There is indeed no other kind of property that I should prefer, principally of course for the purpose which I have resolved to carry out. And in regard to this you relieve my impatience by your promise, or rather your undertaking as to this summer. In the second place, there is nothing that can possibly be better adapted for my declining years and for an alleviation of my melancholy. My eagerness for this drives me at times to wish to spur you on. But I suppress the impulse: for I have no doubt that, when you know me to be very much set on a thing, your eagerness will surpass my own. Accordingly I look upon it as already done.

I am anxious to hear what those friends of yours 116 decide as to the letter to Caesar. Nicias is as devoted to you as he is bound to be, and is greatly delighted at your remembering him. I am indeed strongly attached to our friend Peducaeus. For I have on the one hand transferred to him all the esteem which I had for his father, and on the other I love him for his own sake as much as I loved the other,—but it is you that I love the most for wishing us to be thus mutually attached. If you inspect the pleasure-grounds and tell me about the letter, you will give me something to write to you about: if not, I shall yet write something. For a subject will never be quite wanting.

DCI (A XIII, 2.1)

Your promptitude pleases me better than the contents of your letter. 117 For what could be more insulting? However, I am by this time hardened to such things, and have divested myself of all human feelings. I look forward to your letter today, not that I expect anything new, for what should there be? But all the same—


I had always determined, and on very good grounds, that your friends should read my letter to Caesar before it was sent. If I had acted otherwise, I should have been wanting in courtesy to them, and almost rash in regard to my own danger in case my letter should prove offensive to him. Now your friends have acted frankly, and have obliged me by not suppressing their opinion; but best of all by suggesting so many alterations, that I have no reason for writing it all over again. And yet, in the matter of the Parthian war, what ought I to have kept in view except what I thought was Caesar's wish ? 118 What, in fact, was the point of my letter at all except to say smooth things to him ? 119 Do you suppose that if I had wanted to give him the advice which I thought best, I should have been at a loss for language? Therefore the whole letter is altogether superfluous. For when no great "hit" is possible, and a "miss," however slight, would bring unpleasant consequences, what need to run the risk? Especially as it occurs to me that, as I have not written to him before, he will think that I should probably not have written had not the war been over. Moreover, I fear his thinking that I meant this as a sop for my "Cato." There is no more to be said. I am extremely sorry I wrote it; nor could anything in this affair have fallen out more in accordance with my wishes, than to find that my intrusion is not approved. For I should have found myself also involved with that party, and among them with your relative. 120 But to return to the pleasure-grounds. I absolutely will not have you go to them unless entirely convenient to yourself. There is no hurry. Whatever happens let us devote our efforts to Faberius. How ever, tell me the day of the auction, if you know it. The bearer of this has just come from Cumae, and as he reported that Attica was quite recovered, and said that he had a letter from her, I have sent him straight to you.

DCIII (A XIII, 28, 29.1)

As you are going to inspect the pleasure-grounds today, I shall hear of course tomorrow what you think of them. About Faberius again you will write when he has arrived. As to the letter to Caesar, believe my solemn assertion, -I cannot! Nor is it the dishonour of the thing that deters me, though it ought to do so most of all. For where is the disgrace of flattery, in view of the disgrace of living at all? But as I began by saying, it is not the dishonour that deters me: and, indeed, I only wish it could—for then I should have been the man I ought to be—but I cannot think of anything to say. For those exhortations addressed to Alexander by men of eloquence and learning-think of the circumstances in which they were delivered! Here was a young man fired with ambition for the purest glory, desiring to have some suggestions made to him as to how to win undying fame, and they exhort him to follow honour. There is no lack of something to say in such a case. But what can I say? Nevertheless, I had roughhewn what seemed to me a kind of model. Because there were some things in it which were slightly coloured beyond the actual facts-present and past-adverse criticism is provoked, and I am not sorry for it. For if that letter had reached its destination, believe me, I should have repented it. Why, don't you see that even that famous pupil of Aristotle, distinguished for the very best ability and the most perfect conduct, no sooner got the title of king than he became haughty, cruel, and ungovernable? Well now, do you think that this god of the procession, this messmate of Quirinus, 121 is likely to be gratified by temperate letters such as I should write? In truth, I would rather that he felt annoyed at not receiving what I had not written, than disapprove of what I had. In fine, let it be as he pleases. What was goading me on to action, at the time I put the "Archimedian problem" 122 before you, is now all gone. By Heaven, I am now actually desirous—and much more earnestly—of that same misfortune of which I was then afraid, 123 or any other he chooses. Unless anything else prevents you, pray come to me: you will be very welcome. Nicias having been urgently summoned by Dolabella—for I read the letter-has gone against my will, yet at the same time on my advice. What follows I have written with my own hand.

While I was by way of questioning Nicias about other matters in regard to men of learning, we fell upon the subject of Thalna. He did not speak highly of his genius, but said that he was steady and of good character. But what follows did not seem to me to be satisfactory. He said that he knew him to have lately tried to marry Cornificia, daughter of Quintus, who was quite an old woman and had often been married before: that the ladies did not accept his proposal because they found that his property did not amount to more than 800 sestertia. I thought you ought to know this. 124

DCIV (A XIII, 29.2-3)

I was informed about the suburban pleasure-grounds by your letter and by Chrysippus. In the villa, the vulgarity of which I have known of old, I see that nothing or very little has been changed: however, he praises the larger bath, and says that of the smaller one winter apartments might be made. Therefore, a small covered passage will have to be added, the building of which on the same scale as the one I constructed at Tusculum will cost about half less in that district. For the erection of the fane also, which I desire, nothing could be better suited than the grove which I used to know. But at that time it was not at all frequented, now I hear it is very much so. I couldn't have anything I should like better. In this matter "in heaven's name indulge my whim." 125 All I have to say more is—if Faberius pays his debt, don't stop to inquire the price: outbid Otho. I don't think, however, that he will lose his head about it, for I think I know the man. Moreover, I am told that he has been so hard hit, that I don't think that he is a buyer. Otherwise would he have let it come to the hammer? But why discuss that? If you get the money from Faberius, let us purchase even at a high price: if not, we can't do it even at a low one. So then we must go to Clodia. From her also I seem to have more hope, because, in the first place, the property is much less costly, and in the next place, Dolabella's debt 126 seems so safe that I feel certain of being also able to get ready money to pay for it. Enough about the pleasure-gardens. Tomorrow I shall see you, or hear some reason for your not coming: I expect it will be in connexion with Faberius. But do come, if you can.

DCV (A XIII, 2, §§ 1, 2)

Please order the letters to be delivered to Oppius and Balbus; and, by the way, see Piso whenever you can about the gold. If Faberius comes to town, you will please see that I am credited with the right amount, if there is to be any crediting at all. 127 You will learn what it is from Eros. Ariarathes son of Ariobarzanes 128 has come to Rome. He wants, I suppose, to buy some kingdom from Caesar. For, as at present situated, he hasn't a foot of ground to call his own. After all, our friend Sextus—as a sort of official entertainer-has monopolized him, for which I am not sorry. However, as I am very intimate with his brothers, owing to the great services I did them, I am writing to invite him to stay in my house. As I was sending Alexander for that purpose, I have given him this letter to take.


On the morning of the 28th Demeas handed me a letter written the day before, according to which I should expect you today or tomorrow. But while longing for your arrival, it is I after all, as I think, who will hinder you. For I don't suppose the Faberius business will be so promptly settled, even if it is ever to be so, as not to cause some delay. Come when you can then, since your arrival is still deferred. I should be much obliged if you would send me the books of Dicaearchus which you mention: add also the book of the "Descent." 129 As to the letter to Caesar, my mind is made up. And yet the very thing which your friends assert that be writes—that he will not go against the Parthians until everything is settled at home—is exactly the advice I gave all through that letter. I told him to do whichever he chose: that he might rely on my support. No doubt he is waiting for that, and is not likely to do anything except on my advice! Pray let us dismiss all such follies, and let us at least be half-free. That we can obtain by holding our tongues and living in retirement.

Yes, approach Otho as you suggest, and finish that business, my dear Atticus: for I can hit on no other place where I can at once keep away from the forum and enjoy your society. As to the price however, the following occurs to me. Gaius Albanius is the nearest neighbour: he bought 1,000 iugera of M. Pilius, as far as I can remember, for 11,500 sestertia. 130 Prices are lower all round now. But we must add a great desire to buy, in which, with the exception of Otho, I do not think we shall have any competitor. But you will be able to influence him personally: you could have done so still more easily if you had had Canus with you. What vulgar gluttony! I am ashamed of his father. 131 Write by return if you want to say anything.


I am sending you back Q. Cicero's letter. 132 How hard-hearted of you not to be agitated by his dangers! He has something to say against me also. I am sending you half the letter. For the other half, with the account of his achievements, I think you have in duplicate. I have sent a letter-carrier to Cumae today. I have given him your letter to Vestorius, which you had given Pharnaces. I had just sent Demeas to you when Eros arrived, but there was nothing new in the letter he brought except that the auction was to last two days. So you will come after it is over, as you say; and I hope with the Faberius affair settled. But Eros says that he won't settle today: he thinks he will tomorrow morning. You must be very polite to him. But such flatteries are almost criminal. I shall see you, I hope, the day after tomorrow. If you can do so from any source, find out who Mummius's ten legates were. Polybius doesn't give their names. I remember the consular Albinus and Spurius Mummius: I think Hortensius told me Tuditanus; but in Libo's annals Tuditanus was praetor fourteen years after Mummius's Consulship. That certainly doesn't square with it. I have in my mind a Political Conference, to be held at Olympia or where you will, after the manner of your friend Dicaearchus. 133

DCVIII (A XIII, 2, § 3, AND 3, § I)

So the auction of Peducaeus is tomorrow. Come when you can, therefore. Although perhaps Faberius will delay you; yet as soon as you are free. Our friend Dionysius complains loudly, and with some justice after all, that he is so long away from his pupils. He has written a long letter to me, and I believe also to you. In my opinion he will be still longer away. Yet I could have wished it were otherwise, for I miss him much. I am hoping for a letter from you: that is, not just yet, for I am writing this answer early in the morning.


Having received a second letter from you today I did not wish you to be content with only one from me. Yes, pray do as you say about Faberius. For on our success in that depends entirely what I have in my mind. If that idea had never occurred to me I should, believe me, have been as in different to that as I am about everything else. Wherefore as you are doing at present—and I am sure it cannot be improved upon-push the matter on: don't let it rest: carry it through. Please send me both the books of Dicaearchus—on the "Soul" and on the "Descent." I can't find his "Tripoliticus" and his letter to Aristoxenus. I should be specially glad to have these three books; they would bear upon what I have in my mind. "Torquatus" is at Rome: I have ordered it to be given to you. "Catulus" and "Lucullus" I think you have already. To these books a new preface has been added, in which both of them are spoken of with commendation. I wish you to have these compositions, 134 and there are some others. You didn't quite understand what I said to you about the ten legates, I suppose, because I wrote in shorthand. What I wanted to know was about Tuditanus. Hortensius once told me that he was one of the ten. I see in Libo's annals that he was praetor in the consulship of P. Popilius and P. Rupilius. 135 Could he have been a legatus fourteen years before he was praetor, unless his quaestorship was very late in life? 136 And I don't think that that was so. For I notice that he easily obtained which Polybius was employed to explain to the inhabitants. The labours of the commissioners occupied six months, and Polybius thinks that they did a very noble piece of work in the way of constitution-building. Hence Cicero meant to choose them as speakers in a dialogue on constitutions, which, however, was never composed (Polyb. 39.15-16). the curule magistracies in his regular years. However, I did not know that Postumius, whose statue you say you remember in the Isthmus, was one of them. He is the man who was consul with L. Lucullus. 137 I have to thank you for this addition of a very suitable person to my "Conference." So please see to the rest, if you can, that I may make a fine show even with my dramatis personae.


Yes, the debtors you mention appear to be so satisfactory that my only hesitation arises from the fact that you seem to have doubts. The fact is, I don't like your referring the matter to me. What! was I to manage my own business without your advice? But, after all, I quite understand that you do so more from your habitual caution than because you doubt the soundness of the debtors. The fact is, you don't think well of Caelius, and you don't want a multiplicity of debtors. In both sentiments I concur. We must therefore be content with the present list. 138 Sooner or later, indeed, you would have had to go security for me even in the auction with which we are now concerned. 139 All then shall be provided from my own pocket: but as to the delay in getting in the debts, I think—if we do but hit upon what we want—that a time of grace may be obtained from the auctioneer, and at any rate from the heirs.

See about Crispus and Mustela, and let me know what the share of the two is. I had already been informed of the arrival of Brutus; 140 for my freedman Aegypta brought me a letter from him. I am sending it to you, because it is expressed in obliging terms.

DCXI (A XII, 5, § 2)

Yes, inquire about Caelius 141 as you say; I know nothing. We ought to ascertain his character, not only his means. Do the same as to Hortensius and Verginius, if you feel any doubt: yet I don't think you will easily find anybody more eligible, as far as I can see. Yes, negotiate with Mustela in the manner you suggest, when Crispus arrives. I have written to tell Avius to inform Piso of the facts, with which he is well acquainted, as to the gold. 142 For I quite agree with you: that business has dragged on too long, and we must now call in money from all directions. I have no difficulty in seeing that you neither do nor think of anything but what is to my interests, and that it is by my business that your eagerness to visit me is foiled. But I imagine you by my side, not merely because you are employed in my service, but also because I seem to see how you are acting. And, indeed, not a single hour which you devote to my business escapes my observation. I see that Tubulus was praetor in the consulship of and Purser; but it is very likely corrupt. Dr. Reid, in particular, rejects a me igitur omnia. Lucius Metellus and Quintus Maximus. 143 At present I should like to ascertain in what Consulship Publius Scaevola, the Pontifex Maximus, was tribune. I think it was in that of Caepio and Pompeius : 144 for he was praetor in the year of Lucius Furius and Sextus Atilius. 145 Please therefore tell me the year of Tubulus's tribunate, and, if you Can, on what charge he was tried. And pray look to see whether Lucius Libo, who brought in the bill about Servius Galba, was tribune in the consulship of Censorinus and Manilius, or T. Quinctius and Manius Acilius. 146 Also I am puzzled about Brutus's epitome of the history of Fannius. I put down what I found at the end of that epitome, and taking it as my guide, I stated that Fannius—the author of the history-was son-in-law to Laelius. But you proved to demonstration that I was wrong. Now Brutus and Fannius refute you. However, I had good authority—that of Hortensius—for my statement as it appears in the "Brutus." 147 Please therefore set this matter right.

DCXII (F IV, 12)

Servius sends many good wishes to Cicero. Though I know that I shall be giving you no very pleasant news, yet since chance and nature bear the sway among us men, I thought it incumbent on me to give you information of whatever kind it might be. On the 23rd of May, on sailing into the Piraeus, I met my colleague M. Marcellus, 148 and spent the day there in order to enjoy his society. Next day, when I parted from him with the design of going from Athens to Boeotia, and finishing what remained of my legal business, 149 he told me that he intended to sail round Cape Malea and make for Italy. On the third day after that, just as I was intending to start from Athens, at the tenth hour of the night my friend Publius Postumius called on me with the information that my colleague M. Marcellus just after dinner had been stabbed with a dagger by his friend P. Magius Cilo, and had received two wounds, one in the stomach, a second in the head behind the ear; but that hopes were entertained that he might survive; and that Magius had killed himself afterwards. He added that he had been sent by Marcellus to tell me this, and to ask me to send some physicians. Accordingly, I summoned some physicians, and immediately started just as day was breaking. When I was not far from Piraeus, a slave of Acidinus met me bearing a note containing the information that Marcellus had expired a little before daybreak. So there is a man of most illustrious character cut off in a most distressing manner by the vilest of men. His personal enemies had spared him in consideration of his character; but one of his own friends was found to inflict death upon him. However, I continued my journey to his tent. There I found two freedmen and a few slaves: they said the rest had run away in terror, because their master had been killed in front of the tent. 150 I was obliged to carry him back to the city in the same litter in which I had ridden down and to use my own bearers: and there, considering the means at my disposal at Athens, I saw to his having an honourable funeral. I could not induce the Athenians to grant him a place of burial within the city, 151 as they alleged that they were prevented by religious scruples from doing so; and it is a fact that they had never granted that privilege to anyone. But they allowed us, which was the next best thing, to bury him in any gymnasium we chose. 152 We chose a place in the most famous gymnasium in the world—that of the Academy—and there we burnt the body, and afterwards saw to these same Athenians giving out a contract for the construction of a marble monument over him. So I think I have done all for him alive and dead required by our colleagueship and close connexion. Goodbye.

31 May, Athens.


I have received the result of your kind labours as to the ten legates. I agree with you about Tuditanus; it was his son that was quaestor the year after the consulship of Mummius. 153

Well, since you repeatedly ask me whether I am satisfied about the debtors, I also repeatedly tell you in answer that I am satisfied. 154 If you can come to any settlement with Piso, do so. For I think Avius will fulfil his obligations. I wish you could come before Brutus; but if you can't, at least stay with me when he comes to Tusculum. It is of great importance to me that we should be together. And you will be able to ascertain the day if you tell your servant to ask.


I had thought that Spurius Mummius was one of the ten legates; but he was, of course—as was natural—a legatus to his brother. For he was at the capture of Corinth. I am sending "Torquatus" 155 to you. Yes, do talk to Silius, as you suggest, and urge him on. He said the day for payment was not in May; 156 he didn't deny that it was the day you mention. But pray be careful about this business, as you always are. As to Crispus and Mustela 157 —of course: as soon as you have come to any settlement. As you promise to be with me by the time Brutus comes, that's enough: especially as the intervening days are being spent in important business of my own.

DCXV (A XIII, 33, §§ 1-3)

Astonishing carelessness! Do you suppose that Balbus and Faberius only once told me that the return was made? Why, I even sent a man at their bidding to make the return. For they said that that was what the law required. 158 My freedman Philotimus made the return. I believe you know my copyist. But write, and tell me too that it has been settled. I am sending a letter to Faberius as you think I ought. But with Balbus I think you have come to some arrangement in the Capitol today. 159

I have no scruple about Vergilius: for I am not bound to consider him, and if I purchase, what right will he have to expostulate? But see that he is not in Africa when the time comes, like Caelius. As to the debt, please look into the matter along with Cispius: but if Plancus bids, 160 then a difficulty arises. Yes, both of us wish you to come here, but this business on which you are engaged must on no account be abandoned. I am very glad to hear you say that you hope that Otho can be outbidden. As to the assignment on valuation we will consider, as you say, when we have begun discussing terms: although he did not say a word in his letter, except about the amount of land. Yes, talk to Piso, in case he may be able to do anything. I have received Dicaearchus's book, and I am waiting for his "Descent." 161 If you will commission some one, he will find the information in the book containing the decrees of the senate in the consulship of Gnaeus Cornelius and Lucius Mummius. 162 Your opinion about Tuditanus is very reasonable, that at the time that he was at the siege of Corinth—for Hortensius did not speak at random—he was quaestor or military tribune, and I rather think it was so. You will be able to ascertain from Antiochus, of course, in what year he was quaestor or military tribune. If he was neither, hunt him up and see whether he was among the praefecti 163 or the attachés-always provided that he was engaged in that war at all.

DCXVI (A XIII, 6, § 4)

The Tuditanus you mention—great-grandfather of Hortensius—I was quite unacquainted with, and I had imagined it to have been the son, who at that time could not have been a legatus. 164 I hold it to be certain that Spurius Mummius was at Corinth. For the Spurius of our time, lately dead, frequently used to recite to me his letters written in witty verse sent to his friends from Corinth. But I feel sure he was legatus to his brother, not one of the ten. And, besides, I have been taught that it was not the custom of our ancestors to nominate on a commission men who were related to the imperators, as we—in our ignorance of the best principles of government, or rather from carelessness of them-sent Marcus Lucullus and Lucius Muraena and others closely connected with him as commissioners to Lucius Lucullus. 165 But it is exceedingly natural that he should have been among the first of his brother's legates. What an amount of trouble you have taken—in busying yourself with such matters as these, in clearing up my difficulties, and in being much less earnest in your own business than in mine!


I have absolutely nothing to say to you. For you have only just left me, and shortly after your departure have sent me back my note-book. Please see that the accompanying packet is delivered to Vestorius, and instruct some one to inquire whether there is any land of Quintus Staterius's, on his Pompeian or Nolan properties, for sale. Please send me Brutus's epitome of the annals of Caelius; and ask Philoxenus for Panaetius "On Foresight." Be sure I see you and your party on the thirteenth.


Sestius came to see me yesterday and so did Theopompus. He told me that a letter had arrived from Caesar to the effect that he was resolved to remain at Rome, 166 and that he gave as his reason the one mentioned in my letter 167 —for fear of his laws being disregarded if he were away, just as his sumptuary law had been. That is reasonable, and is what I had suspected. But one must give in to your friends, unless you think I might urge this same conclusion. He also told me that Lentulus had certainly divorced Metella. But you know all that better than I. Write back therefore anything you choose, so long as you write some-thing. For at the moment I cannot think of anything you are likely to write about, unless by any chance you have seen your way at all in regard to Mustela, or have had an interview with Silius.

Brutus arrived at his Tusculan villa yesterday between four and five in the afternoon. Today therefore he will see me, and I could have wished that you were here. I have myself given orders that he should be told that you had waited for his arrival as long as you could and would come if you were told of it, and that I would inform you at once, as I hereby do. 168


Hitherto I have felt nothing more than a natural affection for Dolabella: I was under no obligation to him—for it never chanced to be necessary—and he was in my debt for my having stood by him in his hours of danger. 169 Now, however, I have become bound to him by so strong an obligation—for having previously in regard to your property, and on the present occasion in the matter of your recall, gratified me to the fullest possible degree—that I can owe no one more than I do him. In regard to this matter, while I warmly congratulate you, I wish you to congratulate rather than thank me. The latter I do not in the least desire, the former you will be able to do with truth. For the rest, since your high character and worth have secured your return to your family, you will be acting in a manner worthy of your wisdom and magnanimity if you forget what you have lost, and think of what you have recovered. You will be living with your family; you will be living with us; you have gained more in personal consideration than you have lost in property: though of course your recovered position would have been a greater source of pleasure to you, if there had been any constitution left. Our friend Vestorius tells me in a letter that you express very great gratitude to me. This avowal on your part is, of course, very gratifying to me, and I have nothing to say against your making it, whether to others, or by heaven! to our friend Siro : 170 for what one does one likes to have approved most by the wisest men. I desire to see you at the earliest opportunity.


You had only just left me yesterday when Trebonius arrived and a little later Curtius—the latter merely intending to call, but he stayed on being pressed. We have Trebatius with us. Early this morning Dolabella arrived. We had much talk to a late hour in the day. I cannot exaggerate its cordial and affectionate tone. However, we came at last to the subject of Quintus. 171 He told me many things beyond words-beyond expression: but there was one of such a kind that, had it not been notorious to the whole army, I should not have ventured, I don't say to dictate to Tiro, but even to write it with my own hand. But enough of that. Very opportunely, while I had Dolabella with me Torquatus arrived; and in the kindest manner Dolabella repeated to him what I had been saying. For I had been just speaking with very great earnestness in his cause, 172 an earnestness which seemed to gratify Torquatus. I am waiting to hear what news you have about Brutus. However, Nicias thinks that the matter is settled, but that the divorce 173 does not find favour.

All the more am I anxious for the same thing as you are. 174 For if any scandal has been caused, this step may put it right. I must go to Arpinum: for in the first place my small property there needs putting straight, and in the second place I fear I may not be able to leave town when once Caesar has come, as to whose arrival Dolabella has the same opinion as you had-founded on your letter from Messalla. 175 When I have got there and ascertained what amount of business there is to do, I will write and tell you the days of my return journey. 176


I am not at all surprised either at your sorrow in regard to Marcellus or at your misgiving as to increased sources of danger. For who would have feared such a thing as this —a thing that had never happened before and which nature seemed to forbid the possibility of happening? Therefore there is nothing that may not be feared.

But this is an historical slip of yours—the last person I should have expected to make it—that "I am the sole remaining consular." Why, what do you think of Servius? 177 However, this survival has of course no value of any sort-especially to me, who think that their fate is no less happy than my own. For what am I, and what influence do I possess? Is it at home or abroad? Well, if it had not occurred to me to write my poor books, I shouldn't have known what to do with myself. Yes, as you say, I think I must dedicate to Dolabella some treatise of a more general kind and more political in tone. Something certainly I must compose for him; for he is very desirous that I should do so. If Brutus takes any step, 178 pray be careful to let me know. I think he ought to do it as soon as possible, especially if he has made up his mind. He will thereby either entirely stop, or at any rate mitigate, any little talk there may be about it. For there are people who talk even to me. But he will settle these things best himself, especially if he also consults you. I intend starting on the 21st: for I have nothing to do here, nor, by Hercules! there either, or anywhere: yet there, after all, there is something. Today I am expecting Spinther; for Brutus has sent him to me. He writes to clear Caesar in regard to the death of Marcellus—on whom no suspicion would have fallen, even if his assassination had been the consequence of a plot. As it is, as there is no doubt whatever about Magius. Does not his madness account for the whole thing? I don't clearly understand what he means. Please explain therefore. However, for myself my only doubt is as to the cause of Magius's mad fury. Marcellus had even gone security for him. No doubt that is the true explanation—he was insolvent. I suppose he had asked some indulgence from Marcellus, who—as was his way—had answered him somewhat decidedly.


"Not the same look." 179 I thought I shouldn't mind. It was quite the reverse, when I found myself more widely separated from you. But I had to do it, both in order to settle the small rents of my properties, and to avoid burdening Brutus with the necessity of shewing me attention. For at a future time we shall be able to keep up our acquaintance at Tusculum on easier terms. But at the present juncture, when he wanted to see me every day and I could not go to him, 180 he was losing all enjoyment of his Tusculan villa. Please therefore write and tell me whether Servilia 181 has arrived, whether Brutus has taken any decided step, even if he has determined on doing so, and when he starts to meet Caesar- anything in fact that I ought to know. If you can, call on Piso : 182 you see how pressing it is. 183 Yet only if it is no inconvenience to you.


Your letters about our dear Attica stung me to the heart. However, they also healed the wound. For the fact that you consoled yourself in the same letter gave me sufficient assurance to alleviate my distress. You have given my speech for Ligarius 184 a famous start. Henceforth, whenever I write anything, I shall intrust the advertising to you. As to what you say in your letter about Varro, you are aware that heretofore my speeches and writings of that nature have been composed in a way that made the introduction anywhere of Varro impossible. But when I began these more literary works, Varro had already announced to me a dedication of an important treatise. Two years have passed, and that "Callippides," 185 though perpetually on the move, has not advanced a yard. I, on the other hand, am preparing to return anything he sent me, "measure and all and even better"—if I had but the power: for even Hesiod adds the proviso "if you can." 186 As things stand at present I have plighted to Brutus, as you advised, my treatise de Finibus, of which I think very highly, and you wrote to say that he was not unwilling to accept it. So let us transfer to Varro my Academica, in which the speakers are men of rank, as far as that goes, but being in no respect men of learning are made to speak with a subtlety beyond them. It contains the doctrines of Antiochus, with which he is in full agreement. 187 I will make it up to Catulus and Lucullus in some other work. However, this depends on your approval, so pray write me an answer on this point.

I have had a letter from Vestorius about the auction of Brinnius's estate. He says that the direction of the business has been unanimously confided to me 188 —they presumed evidently that I should be at Rome or at Tusculum on the 24th of June. Please therefore speak to my co-heir, your friend Spurius Vettius, or to our friend Labeo, to put off the auction a short time, and say that I shall be at Tusculum about the 7th of July. Yes, please settle with Piso. You have Eros with you. Let us give our whole minds to Scapula's pleasure-grounds. The day is close at hand.


Under the influence of your letter-because you wrote to me on the subject of Varro—I have taken my Academica bodily from men of the highest rank and transferred it to our friend and contemporary. I have also rearranged it so as to form four books instead of two. 189 They Certainly have a more imposing effect than the previous edition, yet after all a good deal has been cut out. But I should much like you to write and tell me how you discovered that he wished it. This much at any rate I long to know—of whom you perceived him to have been jealous: unless perchance it was Brutus! By heaven, that's the last straw! However, I should be glad to know. The books themselves have left my hands—unless I am deceived by the usual author's self-love—so well elaborated, that there is nothing on the subject even among Greek writers to be compared with them. Pray do not be annoyed at your own loss in having had the treatise on the Academics now in your hands copied out in vain. 190 This second edition, after all, will be much more brilliant, concise, and better. In these circumstances, however, I don't know which way to turn. I wish to satisfy Dolabella's earnest desire. I don't see my way to anything, and at the same time "I fear the Trojans." 191 Now, even if I do hit on something, shall I be able to escape adverse criticism? I must therefore be idle or strike out some other kind of subject.

But why concern ourselves about these trivialities? Pray tell me how my dear Attica is. She causes me deep anxiety. But I pore over your letter again and again: I find comfort in it. Nevertheless, I wait anxiously for a fresh one.


Brinnius's freedman—my coheir-has written to tell me that the joint heirs wish, if lam willing, that he and Sabinus Albius should come to see me. I won't have that at any price: the inheritance isn't worth it. Nevertheless they will be easily able to be present at the day of the sale—it is on the 9th 'of July—if they meet me at my Tusculan villa on the morning of the 6th. But if they wish to postpone the day of sale farther, they can do so for two or three days, or any time they choose. It makes no difference. Therefore, unless these gentlemen have started, please keep them from doing so. If any more news about Brutus or about Caesar has come to your knowledge, pray write and tell me.

I should like you again and again to consider the question as to whether you think what I have written 192 should be sent to Varro. Although it is not altogether without interest to yourself personally; for let me tell you that you have been put in as a third interlocutor in that dialogue. In my opinion, then, we ought to think the matter over. Though the names have been entered, they can be crossed out or changed.


Pray let me know how our dear Attica is. For this is the third day since I received any letter from you. I am not surprised at that, for no one has come here; and there was perhaps no reason for sending. Accordingly, I have not anything to write about. But on the day on which I give this letter to Valerius I am expecting one of my men. If he arrives and brings anything from you, I see that I shall have no lack of subject-matter for a letter.


THough my object was to find streams 193 and solitary spots, in order the easier to keep up my spirits, I have not as yet stirred a foot outside my villa: so violent and persistent is the rain which we are having. The "Academic treatise" I have transferred bodily to Varro. At one time it was in the mouths of Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius. Next, as there seemed a lack of appropriateness in that, because those men were notoriously, I don't say ill-educated, but unversed in those particular subjects, immediately upon my arrival at the villa I transferred the same discourses to Cato and Brutus. Then came your letter about Varro. The argument of Antiochus seemed to suit him better than anyone else. Yet, after all, I should like you to write and say, first, whether you wish me to dedicate anything to him, and if so, whether this particular treatise.

What about Servilia? Has she yet arrived? Brutus, too, is he taking any steps, and when ? 194 About Caesar, what news? I shall arrive by the 7th of July, as I said. Yes, come to a settlement with Piso, if you can.


I was expecting some news from Rome on the 27th, so I could wish that you had given your men some message. 195 As you have not, I have only the same questions to ask as before: What is Brutus doing? Or, if he has already taken any step, is there any news from Caesar? But why talk of these things which I care less about? What I am anxious to know is how Attica is. Though your letter—which however is now rather out of date-bids me hope for the best, yet I am anxious for something recent. You see what advantage there is in our being near each other. By all means let us get suburban pleasure-grounds: we seemed to be conversing with each other when I was in my Tusculan villa—so frequent was the interchange of letters. But that at least will soon be the case again. Meanwhile, acting on your hint, I have completed some books-really quite clever ones - addressed to Varro. Nevertheless I await your answer to what I wrote to you: first, how you learnt that he wanted something of the sort from me, since he has never, for all his extraordinary literary activity, addressed a line to me: secondly, of whom he was jealous, unless I am to think it to be Brutus. For if he is not jealous of him, much less can he be so of Hortensius or of the interlocutors in the de Republica. I should like you to make this quite clear to me: especially whether you abide by your opinion that I should send him what I have written, or whether you think it unnecessary. But of this when we meet.


Hilarus the copyist had just left me on the 28th, to whom I had delivered a letter for you, when your letter-carrier arrived with yours dated the day before: in which the sentence that pleased me most was, "Our dear Attica begs you not to be cast down," and that in which you say that all danger is over. To my speech for Ligarius I see that your authority has served as an excellent advertisement. For Balbus and Oppius have written to say that they like it extremely, and have therefore sent that poor little speech to Caesar. So this is what you meant by what you wrote to me before. As to Varro, I should not be influenced by the motive you mention, that is, to avoid being thought fond of great men—for my principle has always been not to include any living person among the interlocutors of my dialogues. But as you say that it is desired by Varro and that he will value it highly, I have composed the books and finished a complete review of the whole Academic philosophy in four books—how well I can't say, but with a minute care which nothing could surpass. In them the arguments so brilliantly deduced by Antiochus against the doctrine of ἀκαταληψία (impossibility of attaining certainty) I have assigned to Varro. To them I answer in person. You are the third personage in our conversation. If I had represented Cotta and Varro as keeping up the argument, according to the suggestion contained in your last letter, I should have been myself a persona muta. This is often the case with graceful effect in ancient dramatis personae—for instance, Heraclides did it in many of his dialogues, and so did I in the six books of the de Republica. So again in my three books de Oratore with which I am fully satisfied. In these too the persons represented are of such a character that silence on my part was natural. For the speakers are Antonius, the veteran Catulus, Gaius Iulius, the brother of Catulus, Cotta, and Sulpicius. The conversation is represented as taking place when I was a mere boy, so that I could have no part in it. On the other hand, my writings in the present period follow the Aristotelian fashion—the conversation of the other characters is so represented as to leave him the leading part. My five books de Finibus were so arranged as to give L. Torquatus the Epicurean arguments, Marcus Cato the Stoic, Marcus Piso the Peripatetic. I thought that could rouse no jealousy, as all those persons were dead. This new work Academica, as you know, I had divided between Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius. It was quite inappropriate to their characters: for it was more learned than anything they would appear likely to have ever dreamed of. Accordingly, I no sooner read your letter about Varro than I caught at the idea as a godsend. For there could be nothing more appropriate than Varro to that school of philosophy, in which he appears to me to take the greatest pleasure, and that my part should be such as to avoid the appearance of having arranged to give my side of the argument the superiority. For in fact the arguments of Antiochus are very convincing. As carefully translated by me they retain all the acuteness of Antiochus, with the polish peculiar to the language of our countrymen—if there is indeed any such to be found in me. But pray consider carefully whether I ought to present these books to Varro. Certain objections occur to me—but of those when we meet.

DCXXX (A XIII, 21, §§ 4-7)

Now just tell me—do you think it right, to begin with, to publish at all without an order from me? Hermodorus himself used not to do that—the man who made a practice of circulating Plato's books, whence came the line: "In note-books Hermodorus makes his gain." 196 And again: do you think it right to shew it to anyone before Brutus, to whom, on your advice, I dedicate it? For Balbus has written to tell me that you have allowed him to take a copy of the fifth book of the de Finibus, in which, though I have not made very many alterations, yet I have made some. I shall be very much obliged to you if you will keep back the other books, so that Balbus may not have what is uncorrected, and Brutus what is stale. But enough of that, lest I seem "to make a fuss about trifles." 197 Yet, in the present circumstances, these things are of the utmost consequence in my eyes. For what else is there to care about? What I have written 198 I am in such haste to send to Varro, as you advise, that I have already despatched it to Rome to be copied out. This you shall have at once, if you so wish. For I have written to tell the copyists that your men should have permission to make a copy of them if you chose. Please, however, keep it to yourself till I see you, as you always do with the greatest care when you have been told by me to do so. But how did it escape me to tell you? Caerellia—wonderfully inflamed no doubt by a zeal for philosophy—is taking a copy from yours: she already has those very books of the de Finibus. Now I assure you—though I am mortal and fallible—that she did not get them from mine, for they have never been out of my sight: and so far from my men having made two copies, they scarcely completed one copy of each book. However, I don't charge your men with any dereliction of duty, and so I would have you think: for I omitted to say that I did not wish them to get abroad yet. Dear me! what a time I am talking about trifles! The fact is, I have nothing to say on business. About Dolabella I agree with you. Yes, I will meet my co-heirs, as you suggest, at my Tusculan villa. As to Caesar's arrival, Balbus writes to say that it will not be before the 1st of August. I am very glad to hear about Attica, that her attack is lighter and less serious, and that she bears it cheerfully. You mention that idea of ours, in which I am as earnest as yourself. As far as my knowledge goes, I strongly approve of the man, the family, and the fortune. What is most important of all, though I don't know him personally, I hear nothing but good of him, among others recently from Scrofa. We may add, if that is of any consequence, that he is better born even than his father. Therefore when we meet I will talk about it, and with a predisposition in favour of him. I may add that I am—as I think you know-with good reason attached to his father, and have been so for a long time past, more even than not only you but even he himself is aware. 199


I like modesty in language: you prefer plain speaking. 200 The latter I know was the doctrine of Zeno, a man by heaven! of keen insight, though our Academy had a serious quarrel with him. However, as I say, the Stoic doctrine is to call everything by its right name. 201 They argue as follows: nothing is obscene, nothing unfit to be expressed: for if there is anything disgraceful in obscenity, it consists either in the thing meant or in the word: there is no third alternative. Now it is not in the thing meant. Accordingly, in tragedies as well as in comedies there is no concealment. For Comedy, take the character in the Demiurgus : 202 you know the monologue beginning "Lately by chance," and you remember how Roscius recited, "So naked has she left me": the whole speech is covert in language, in meaning is very immodest. As for tragedy, what do you say to this: "The woman who"—notice the expression—"uses more than one bed." Or again, "He dared intrude upon her bed, Pheres." Or again: “ A virgin I, and sheer against my will
Did luppiter achieve his end by force.
203 "Achieve his end" is a decent way of putting it; and yet it means the same as a coarser word, which however no one would have endured. You see then that though the thing meant is the same, yet, because the words are not so, there is thought to be no impropriety. Therefore obscenity is not in the thing meant: much less is it in the expressions. For if the thing meant by a word is not improper, the word which signifies it cannot be improper. For instance, you call the anus by another name; why not by its own? If mention of it is improper, don't mention it even under another name. If not, do so for choice by its own. The ancients called a tail a penis; whence comes the word penicillus ("paint-brush"), from its similarity in appearance. Nowadays penis is regarded as an obscene word. "But," you will say, "the famous Piso Frugi in his 'Annals' complains of young men being given up to lust (peni)." What you call in your letter by its own name, he, with more reserve, calls penis. Yes; but it is because many use the word in that sense that it has become as obscene as the word you used. Again, suppose we use the common phrase: "When we (cum nos) desired to visit you"—does that suggest obscenity? I remember once in the senate an eloquent consular expressing himself thus: "Am I to say that this or that is the greater culpability?" Could it have been expressed more obscenely ? 204 "Not so," you say, "for he did not mean it in that sense." Therefore obscenity does not consist in the word used: I have shewn that it does not do so in the thing meant: therefore it does not exist anywhere. How entirely decent is the expression: "To exert oneself for children "? Even fathers beg their sons to do so, though they do not venture to mention the name of the "exertion." Socrates was taught the lyre by a very famous musician named Connus: do you think the name obscene? When we use the numeral terni there is no suggestion of obscenity: but if I speak of bini there is. "Only to Greeks," 205 you will say. That shews that there is nothing obscene in a word, for I know Greek and yet use the word bini to you; and you assume that I am speaking Greek and not Latin. Again, we may speak without impropriety of "rue" (ruta) and "mint" (menta); but if I wish to use the diminutive of menta (mentula)-as one can perfectly well use that of ruta (rutula)-that is a forbidden word. So we may, without a breach of good manners, use the diminutive of tectoria (tectoriola); but if you try to do the same with pavimenta (pavimentula), you find yourself pulled up. Don't you see, then, that these are nothing but empty distinctions? That impropriety exists neither in word nor thing, and therefore is non-existent?

The fact is that we introduce obscene meaning into words in themselves pure. For instance, is not the word divisio beyond reproach? Yet in it there is a word (visium or visio, "a stench") which may have an improper meaning, to which the last syllables of the word intercapedo (pedo iripow) correspond. Are we, therefore, to regard these words as obscene? Again, we make a ridiculous distinction: if we say, "So-and—so strangled his father," we don't prefix any apologetic word. But if we use the word of Aurelia or Lollia we must use such an apology. Nay, more, words that are not obscene have come to be considered so. The word "grind," he says, is shameful; much more the word "knead." And yet neither is obscene. The world is full of fools. Testes is quite a respectable word in a Court of law: elsewhere not too much so. Again, "Lanuvinian bags " is a decent phrase; not so "bags" of Cliternum.

Again, can the same thing be at one time decent, at another indecent? Suppose a man to break wind—it is an outrage on decency. Presently he will be in a bath naked, and you will have no fault to find. Here is your Stoic decision—"The wise man will call a spade a spade."

What a long commentary on a single word of yours! I am pleased that you have no scruple in saying anything to me. For my own part I maintain and shall maintain Plato's modesty: and accordingly, in my letter to you, I have expressed in veiled language what the Stoics express in the broadest: for they say that breaking wind should be as free as a hiccough. All honour then to the Kalends of March! 206 Love me and keep yourself well.


I have received a letter of consolation from Caesar, dated 31st of May, at Hispalis. 207 I did not understand the nature of the bill published for extending the boundaries of the City: I should much like to know about it. 208 I am glad that Torquatus is satisfied with what I have done for him, and I will not cease adding to those services. To the speech for Ligarius it is not now either possible to add a clause about Tubero's wife and step-daughter 209 —for the speech is by this time very widely known-nor do I wish to annoy Tubero: for he is astonishingly sensitive. You certainly had a good audience! For my part, though I get on very comfortably in this place, I nevertheless long to see you. So I shall be with you as I arranged. I suppose you have met my brother. I am therefore anxious to know what you said to him. As to "reputation," I am not at all inclined to trouble myself, though I did say foolishly in that letter that it was "better than anything else." For it is not a thing for me to be anxious about. And don't you see how truly philosophical this sentiment is—"that every man is bound not to depart a nail's breadth from the strict path of conscience"? Do you think that it is all for nothing that I am now engaged in these compositions ? 210 I would not have you feel distressed by that remark, which amounted to nothing. For I return to the same point again. Do you suppose that I care for anything in the whole question except not to be untrue to my past? I am striving, forsooth, to maintain my reputation in the courts! Not in them I trust! I only wish I could bear my home sorrows as easily as I can disregard that! But do you think that I had set my heart on something that has not been accomplished? Self-praise is no commendation: still, though I cannot fail to approve of what I did then, 211 yet I can with a good grace refrain from troubling myself about it, as in fact I do. But I have said too much on a trivial subject.


As to Varro, I had my reasons for being so particular to ascertain your opinion. Certain objections occur to me, but of them when we meet. For yourself, I have introduced your name with the greatest possible pleasure, and I shall do it still more frequently; for from your last letter I have for the first time satisfied myself that you are not unwilling that it should be so. About Marcellus, 212 Cassius had written to me before; Servius sent details. What a melancholy thing! To return to my subject. There are no hands in which I would rather my writings were than yours: but I wish them not to be published before we both agree upon doing so. For my part, I absolve your copyists from all blame, nor do I find any fault with you; and yet, after all, what I mentioned in a previous letter was a breach of this understanding—that Caerellia had certain of my writings which she could only have had from you. As for Balbus, I quite understand that it was necessary to gratify him: only I don't like either Brutus being given anything stale, or Balbus anything unfinished. I will send it to Varro as soon as I see you, if you approve. Why I have hesitated about it, however, I will tell you when we meet. I fully approve of your calling in the money from the debtors assigned to me. I am sorry that you are being troubled about Ovia's estate. It is a great nuisance about our friend Brutus: but such is life! The ladies, however, don't shew very good feeling in their hostile attitude to each other—though both of them do all that propriety requires. 213 There was nothing in the possession of my secretary Tullius for you to demand if there had been I would have instructed you to do so. The fact is that he holds no money that was set apart for the vow, though there is something of mine in his hands. That sum I have resolved to transfer to this purchase. So we were both right—I in telling you where it was, he in denying it to you. But let us at once pounce upon this very money also. In the case of a shrine for human beings I don't think well of a grove, because it is not much frequented: yet there is something to say for it. However, this point too shall be settled in accordance with your opinion, as everything else is. I shall come to town the day I fixed: and I hope to heaven you will come the same day. But if anything prevents you—for a hundred things may do so—at any rate the next day. Why, think of the co-heirs, and of my being left to their tender mercies without your cunning! This is the second letter I have had without a word about Attica. However, I put a very hopeful construction on that. I don't lay the blame on you, but on her, that there isn't so much as a "kind regards." However, give my kindest, both to her and Pilia, and don't in spite of all hint that I am angry. I am sending you Caesar's letter, in case you have not read it.

DCXXXIV (A XIII, 33, §§ 4, 5)

We were talking of of a wolf, you know. 214 For he arrived at my house, and at such an hour of the day has married or is going to marry Porcia, daughter of Cato and widow of Bibulus. Naturally the Caesarians thought it a dangerous alliance, and especially his mother Servilia—the warm friend and perhaps mistress of Caesar. Cicero says that it is a pity the two ladies are unfriendly to each other, but, he adds, they keep up appearances and do all that their respective positions demand. that he had to be kept 215 But I didn't quite "tear his cloak" 216 in my efforts to keep him (for I remember that expression of yours), and they were a large party and I was not prepared. How did that help me? Soon after came Gaius Capito with Titus Carrinas. I hardly laid a finger on their cloaks; yet they stopped, and very à propos (though by chance) Capito fell to talking about the enlargement of the city: the Tiber is to be diverted, starting from the Milvian bridge along the Vatican Hills: the Campus Martius is to be covered with buildings; while the Vatican plain is to become a kind of new Campus Martius. "What do you say?" said I, "why, I was going to the auction, to secure Scapula's pleasure-grounds if I could safely do so." "Don't do anything of the sort," said he, "for the law will be carried. 217 Caesar wishes it." 218 I didn't betray any annoyance at the information, but I am annoyed at the scheme. What do you say to it? But I needn't ask: you know what a quidnunc Capito is, always finding some mare's nest: he is as bad as Camillus. 219 So let me know about the 15th : 220 for it is that business which is bringing me to Rome: I had combined some other pieces of business with it, which, however, I shall be easily able to do two or three days later. However, I don't want you to be tired out with travelling: I even excuse Dionysius. As to what you say in your letter about Brutus, I have left him quite free to do as he likes as far as I am concerned: for I wrote yesterday to tell him that I had no occasion for his assistance on the 15th.


Your morning letter of yesterday I answered at once. I will now answer your evening letter. I had rather that Brutus had asked me to come to Rome. For it would have been fairer, considering that a journey both unexpected and long was before him. And, by heaven! nowadays, as the state of our feelings forbids our getting on frankly together—for I certainly need not tell you what constitutes being "good company "-I should be glad if our meeting were at Rome rather than at Tusculum.

The books dedicated to Varro 221 won't be long delayed. They are completed, as you have seen. There only remains the correction of the mistakes of the copyists. About these books you know that I had some hesitation, but I leave it to you. Also those I am dedicating to Brutus 222 the copyists have in hand. Yes, as you say in your letter, get my business through. However, Trebatius says that everybody makes that rebate you mention; what, then, do you suppose those fellows will do ? 223 You know the gang. So settle the affair without any friction. You'd scarcely believe how indifferent I am about such things. I solemnly declare to you, and pray believe me, that those trumpery properties are more a bore than a pleasure to me. For I grieve more at not having anyone to whom to transmit them than at being in want of immediate cash. 224 And so Trebatius says that he told you. Now perhaps you were afraid that I should be sorry to hear your report. That was like your kindness, but believe me I am now quite indifferent about those things. Wherefore devote your energies to these conferences: get your knife well in and finish the business. When talking to Polla consider that you are talking with that fellow Scaeva, 225 and don't imagine that men who are accustomed to try to lay hands on what is not owed to them will abate anything that is. Only see that they keep their day, and even as to that be easy with them.


Vatinius226 imperator to his friend Cicero greeting. If you are well, I am glad. I and the army are well. If you keep up your old habit of pleading causes for the defence, Publius Vatinius presents himself as a client and wishes a case pleaded on his behalf. You will not, I presume, repulse a man when in office, whom you accepted when in danger. While for myself, whom should I select or call upon in preference to one whose defence taught me how to win? Should I have any fear that he, who in support of my political existence disregarded the coalition of the most powerful men in the state, will fail to hunt down and crush beneath your feet the slanders and jealousies of a set of malignant nobodies? Wherefore, if you retain your old affection for me, undertake me bodily, and look upon this burden and service to whatever it may amount, as what you are bound to undertake and support on behalf of my political position. You know that my success is such as somehow or other easily to find detractors-not, by heaven! from any fault of my own: but what does that matter, if nevertheless by some fatality it does happen? If it turns out that there is anyone who desires to prevent the compliment being paid me, 227 I beg you to let me count upon your usual good feeling to defend me in my absence. I append for your perusal an exact copy of my despatch to the senate on the result of my operations. I am told that your slave—the runaway reader—is with the Vardaei. 228 You gave me no instructions about him ; 229 I, however, gave orders by anticipation that he should be hunted down by land and sea, and I shall certainly find him for you, unless he has escaped to Dalmatia, 230 and even thence I will extract him sooner or later. Be sure you maintain your affection for me. Good-bye.

11 July, Narona.

DCXXXVII (A XIII, 24 AND 25, § 1)

What is this about Hermogenes Clodius having said that Andromenes told him that he had seen my son at Corcyra? I supposed that you must have heard it. Didn't he then give any letter even to him? Or didn't he see him? Pray therefore let me know. What answer am I to give you about Varro? You have the four parchment rolls in your hands: whatever you do I shall approve. It isn't after all a case of "fearing the Trojans." 231 Why should I? But I am more afraid of his own disapprobation of the business. But since you undertake it—I shall sleep on both ears. 232

About the "abatement" I have answered your full and careful letter. Please therefore settle the business, and that too without hesitation or reserve. This ought and must be done.


TO M. TARENTIUS VARRO (With a copy of the Academica)
To demand a gift, even if a man has promised it, 233 is more than even a nation will generally do, unless under great provocation: nevertheless I have so much looked forward to your present that I venture to remind you of it, though not to press for it. So I have sent you four reminders who are not afflicted with excessive modesty: for you know how brazen-faced the New Academy is. Accordingly, I am sending ambassadors enlisted from its ranks, who I fear may by chance lodge a demand, though I have only commissioned them to ask a favour. I have been waiting in fact for a long time now, and have been holding back, so as not to address any work to you before I had received something from you, in order that I might repay you as nearly as possible in your own coin. But as you were somewhat slow in doing it—that is, as I construe it, somewhat unusually careful—I could not refrain from making manifest by such literary composition as I was capable of producing the union of our tastes and affections. I have therefore composed a dialogue purposing to be held between us in my villa at Cumae, Pomponius being there also. I have assigned to you the doctrines of Antiochus, which I thought I understood to have your approval; I have taken those of Philo for myself. I imagine that when you read it you will be surprised at our holding a conversation, which we never did hold; but you know the usual method of dialogues. At some future time, my dear Varro, we shall—if such is your pleasure-have many a long conversation of our own also. It may perhaps be some time hence: but let the fortune of the state excuse the past; it is our business to secure this ourselves. And oh that we might pursue these studies together in a time of tranquillity and with the constitution established on some basis, which if not good may be at any rate definitely fixed! Though in that case there would be other calls upon us-honourable responsibilities and political activities. As things are now, however, what is there to induce us to live without these studies? In my eyes indeed, even with them, it is barely worth while: when they are withdrawn, not even so much as that. But of this when we meet, and often hereafter. I hope your change of houses and new purchase may turn out everything you can desire. I think you were quite right to make them. Be careful of your health.

DCXXXIX (A XIII, 25, §§ 2 AND 3)

About Andromenes, I thought what you say was the case. For you would have known and told me. Yet your letter is so full of Brutus, that you don't say a word about yourself. But when do you think he is coming? For I intend to arrive in Rome on the 14th. I meant in my letter to tell Brutus—but since you say that you have read it, I was not perhaps quite clear—that I understood from your letter that he did not wish me to come to Rome now out of compliment as it were to himself. But since my arrival in town is now approaching, pray take care that the Ides (the 15th) 234 don't prevent him from being at Tusculum if that suits his convenience. For I am not likely to want him at the auction. In a business of that kind why are you not sufficient by yourself? But I do want him at the making of my will. This, however, I wish to be on another day, that I may not appear to have come to Rome for that express purpose. I have written to Brutus, therefore, to say that there was not the occasion for his presence on the 15th, which I had contemplated. So I should like you to direct the whole of this business in such a way as to prevent our inconveniencing Brutus in any particular, however small.

But pray, why in the world are you in such a fright at my bidding you send the books to Varro at your own risk? Even at this eleventh hour, if you have any doubt, let me know. Nothing can be more finished than they are. I want Varro to take a part in them, especially as he desires it himself: but he is, as you know, “Keen-eyed for faults, to blame the blameless prone.” 235 The expression of his face often occurs to me as he perhaps complains, for instance, that in these books my side in the argument is defended at greater length than his own. That, on my honour, you will find not to be the case if you ever get your holiday in Epirus—for at present my works have to give place to Alexion's business letters. But after all I don't despair of the book securing Varro's approval, and I am not sorry that my plan should be persisted in, as I have gone to some expense in long paper; 236 but I say again and again—it shall be done at your risk. Wherefore, if you have any hesitation, let us change to Brutus, for he too is an adherent of Antiochus. What an excellent likeness of the Academy itself, with its instability, its shifting views, now this way and now that! But, please tell me, did you really like my letter to Varro? May I be hanged if I ever take so much trouble again about anything! Consequently I did not dictate it even to Tiro, 237 who usually takes down whole periods at a breath, but syllable by syllable to Spintharus. 238

DCXL (A XIII, 35 AND 36)

What a disgraceful thing! A countryman of yours 239 enlarges the city, which he had never seen two years ago, and regards it as too small to hold the great man, too! So I am longing for a letter from you on the subject.

You say that you will hand the books to Varro as soon as he comes to town. So by this time they have been presented and the matter is out of your hands. Ah, well, if you could but know what a risk you are running I Or perhaps my letter has caused you to put it off; though you had not read it when you wrote your last. I am therefore in a flutter to know how the matter stands. 240

About Brutus's affection and the walk you had together, though you have nothing new to tell me, only the old story, yet the oftener I hear it the more I like it. It gives me the greater gratification that you find pleasure in it, and I feel all the surer of it that it is you who report it.


Yes, I shall avail myself of the postponement of the day ; 241 and it was exceedingly kind of you to inform me, especially as I received the letter at a time when I wasn't expecting one, and you wrote it from your seat at the games. 242 I have in any case some matters of business to attend to at Rome, but I will settle them two days later.


Three days ago I delivered a letter for you to the servants of Gnaeus Plancius. I shall therefore be briefer, and as I tried to console you before, on the present occasion I shall offer you some advice. I think your wisest course is to wait where you are until you can ascertain what you ought to do. For, over and above the danger of a long voyage in winter and along a coast very ill-furnished with harbours, which you will thus have avoided, there is this point also of no small importance—that you can start at a moment's notice from where you are as soon as you get any certain intelligence. There is besides no reason for your being all agog to present yourself to them on their way home. 243 Several other fears occur to me which I have imparted to our friend Cilo.

To cut a long story short: in your present unfortunate position you could be in no more convenient spot from which to transfer yourself with the greatest facility and despatch whithersoever it shall be necessary for you to go. Thus, if Caesar gets home up to time, you will be at hand. But if—for many accidents may happen-something either stops or delays him, you will be in a place to get full information. This I am strongly of opinion is your better course. For the future, as I have repeatedly impressed on you by letter, I would have you convince yourself that in regard to your position you have nothing to fear beyond the calamity common to the whole state. And though that is exceedingly serious, yet we have lived in such a way and are at such a time of life, that we ought to bear with Courage whatever happens to us without fault on our part. Here in Rome all your family are in good health, and with the most perfect loyalty regret your absence, and retain their affection and respect for you., Mind you take care of your health and do not move from where you are without full consideration.


What a delightful letter! Though the procession was odious, it is nevertheless not odious "to know everything"—even about Cotta. The people were splendid not to clap even the figure of Victory owing to its impious neighbour. Brutus has been to see me, and is very strongly in favour of my writing something to Caesar. I assented, but this procession puts me off it. 244

Well, after all, did you venture to make the presentation to Varro? I am anxious for his opinion: but when will he read it through?

As to Attica, I quite approve: for it is something that her melancholy should be relieved both by taking part in the spectacle, as well as by the feeling of its sacred associations and the general talk about it.

Please send me a Cotta; I have got a Libo with me, and I had already possessed a Casca. 245 Brutus brought me a message from Titus Ligarius that the mention of L. Corfidius in my speech for Ligarius was a mistake of mine. But it was only what is called "a lapse of memory." I knew that Corfidius was very closely connected with the Ligarii, but I see now that he was already dead. Please therefore instruct Pharnaces, Antaeus, and Salvius to erase that name from all the copies. 246


I arrived at Astura on the evening of the 25th. For in order to avoid the heat I had rested three hours at Lanuvium. Pray, if it won't be a trouble to you, contrive that I shall not have to come to Rome before the 5th of next month-you can arrange it by means of Egnatius Maximus. Above all, come to a settlement with Publilius in my absence: as to which, write and tell me what people say. 247 "Much the people, of course, concern themselves about that!" 248 No, by heaven, I don't suppose they do. For it is already a nine days' wonder. But I wanted to fill my page. I need say no more, for I am all but with you unless you put me off. For I have written to you about the pleasure-grounds. 249

DCXLV (F VI, 19)

I am glad Macula has done his duty. His Falernian villa always seemed to me suitable for a place of call, if only it is enough roofed in to receive our retinue. In other respects I don't otherwise than like the situation. But I shall not on that account desert your Petrinian villa, 250 for both the house and the picturesqueness of its situation make it suitable for residence rather than for a temporary lodging. As to some official management of these "royal" exhibitions, 251 I have spoken to Oppius; for I have not seen Balbus since you left. He has such a bad fit of the gout that he declines visits. On the whole you would, in my opinion, be certainly acting more wisely if you did not undertake it; for your object 252 in incurring all that labour you will in no wise attain. For the number of his intimate entourage is so great, that it is more likely that some one of them should drop off than that there should be an opening for anyone new, especially for one who has nothing to offer but his active service, in which Caesar will consider himself—if indeed he knows anything about it—to have conferred a favour rather than received one. However, we should look out for something, but something which may give you some distinction; otherwise I think that you not only ought not to seek for it, but should even avoid it. For myself, I think I shall pro-long my stay at Astura until Caesar's return, whenever that may be. Good-bye.


YES, indeed, I should have been very comfortable here, and more so every day, had it not been for the reason which I mentioned to you in my previous letter Nothing could be pleasanter than the solitude of this place, except for the occasional inroads of the "son of Amyntas." 253 What a bore he is with his endless babble! In other respects don't imagine that anything could be more delightful than this villa. But all this doesn't deserve a longer letter, and I have nothing else to say and am very sleepy.


I hope from your letter that you are better, at any rate I desire it. Devote your whole energies to that, and don't have any uneasy feeling that you are acting against my wishes in staying away. You are with me if you are taking care of yourself. Therefore I would rather you were doing duty to your health than to my eyes and ears. For though it gives me pleasure both to hear and see you, it will give me much more pleasure If you are well. I am being idle here, because I don't write without an amanuensis; but I find extreme pleasure in reading. As you are on the spot, if there is anything in my handwriting which the copyists can't make out, please instruct them. There is at least one inserted passage somewhat difficult to decipher, which I often find it hard to make out myself-about Cato when he was four years old. 254 Look after the dinner table, as you have been doing. Tertia will come so long as Publius is not there. 255 Your friend Demetrius was never quite a Demetrius of Phalerum, but now he has become a regular Billienus. 256 Accordingly, I appoint you my representative: you will look after him. Although, after all: about those men-you know the rest. However, if you do have any conversation with him, write and tell me, that I may have something to put into a letter, and may have as long a one as possible from you to read. Take care of your health, my dear Tiro: you can't oblige me more than by doing that.


GOOD heavens, how sad about Athamas! As for your sorrow, it shews a kind heart, but it must be firmly kept within bounds. There are many ways to arrive at consolation, but the straightest is this: let reason secure what time is certain to secure. Let us however take care of Alexis, the living image of Tiro—whom I have sent back to Rome ill; and if "the hill " 257 is infected with some epidemic let us transfer him to my house along with Tisamenus. The whole upper story of my house is vacant, as you know. I think this is very much to the purpose.

DCXLIX (A XIII, 21, §§ 1-3)

I have despatched a very bulky letter to Hirtius which I recently wrote at Tusculum. That which you have sent me I will answer another time. For the present I prefer other subjects. What can I do about Torquatus 258 unless I hear something from Dolabella? As soon as I do you shall know at once. I expect letter-carriers from him today, or at latest tomorrow. As soon as they arrive they shall be sent on to you. I am expecting to hear from Quintus. For as I was starting from Tusculum on the 25th, as you know, I sent letter-carriers to him. Now to return to business: the word inhibere suggested by you, 259 which I thought very attractive, I am now strongly against. For it is an entirely nautical word. Of course I knew that, but I thought that the vessel was "held up" (sustineri) when the rowers were ordered inhibere. But that that is not the case I learnt yesterday, when a ship was being brought to land opposite my villa. For when ordered inhibere the rowers don't hold up the vessel, they backwater. Now that is a meaning as remote as possible from ἐποχή ("suspension of judgment"). Wherefore pray let it stand in the book as it was. Tell Varro this also, if by any chance he has made an alteration. One can't have a better authority than Lucilius: "Bring to a halt (sustineas) chariot and horses, as oft doth a skilful driver." Again, Carneades always uses the guard (προβολη) of a boxer and the pulling up (retentio) of a charioteer as metaphorical expressions for "suspension of judgment" (ἐποχή): but the inhibitio of rowers connotes motion, and indeed an unusually violent one—the action of the oars driving the vessel backwards. You see how much more eager and interested I am on this point than either about rumours or about Pollio. Tell me too about Pansa, whether there is any confirmation—for I think it must have been made public: also about Critonius, whatever is known, and at least about Metellus and Balbinus.

DCL (F XVI, 17)

I see what you are about: you want your letters also to be collected into books. But look here! You set up to be a standard of correctness in my writings—how came you to use such an unauthorized expression as "by faithfully devoting myself to my health"? How does fideliter come in there? The proper habitat of that word is in what refers to duty to others—though it often migrates to spheres not belonging to it. For instance: "learning," "house," "art,,' "land," can be called fidelis, granting, as Theophrastus holds, that the metaphor is not pushed too far. 260 But of this when we meet. Demetrius called on me, from whose company to Rome I escaped with considerable adroitness. It is plain that you could not have seen him; he will be in town tomorrow, so you will see him. I myself think of starting early the day after. Your ill-health makes me very anxious, but devote yourself to its cure and omit no means. If you do that, consider that you are with me and are giving me the most complete satisfaction. Thank you for attending to Cuspius; for I am much interested in him. Good-bye.

DCLI (A XIII, 47 b)

YESTERDAY evening I got a letter from Lepidus dated Antium, for he was there in a house which I sold him. He asks me earnestly to be in the senate on the 1st, saying that I shall greatly gratify both Caesar and himself by so doing. 261 I think, for my part, that there is nothing in it: for perhaps Oppius would have said something to you, as Balbus is ill. However, I preferred to come for nothing rather than be absent if I was wanted: I should have regretted it afterwards. So today I shall be at Antium; tomorrow, at my town house before noon. Pray dine with me, if nothing prevents you, on the 31st and bring Pilia. I hope you have settled with Publilius. I mean to hurry back to Tusculum on the 1st; for I prefer all negotiations with them to go on in my absence. I am sending you my brother Quintus's letter; it is not indeed a very kind response to mine, but still sufficient to satisfy you, as I imagine. That is your affair.


I am anxious to hear from you on many points, but much more to see you in person. Restore me Demetrius's friendship, 262 and anything else you can that is worth having. I don't say a word to stir you up about the Aufidian debt: I know you are looking after it. But settle the business. If that is what is detaining you, I accept the excuse; if it is not, fly to me. I am very anxious for a letter from you. Good-bye.


YESTERDAY, in the midst of the noise, I seem to have caught a remark of yours, that you were coming to Tusculum. Oh, that it may be so! Oh, that it may! I repeat. But only if convenient to yourself. Lepta begs me to hurry to Rome if he wants me in any way. For Babullius is dead. Caesar, I imagine, is heir to a twelfth—though I don't know anything for certain as yet—but Lepta to a third. Now he is in a fright that he may not be allowed to keep the inheritance. His fear is unreasonable, but nevertheless he is afraid. So if he does summon me, I will hurry to town: if he doesn't, it won't be in any way necessary. 263 Yes, send Pollex as soon as you can. I am sending you Porcia's funeral oration corrected: I have been expeditious in order that, if it is by any chance being sent to Domitius's son or to Brutus, it may be this edition that is sent. 264 If it isn't inconvenient to you I should like you to see to this very carefully; and please send me the funeral orations written by Marcus Varro and Ollius, at any rate that of Ollius. For though I have read the latter, I want to have a second taste of it. There are some things in it that I can scarcely believe that I have read. 265


THIS is my second letter today. As to Xenon's debt to you and the forty sestertia due to you in Epirus, no arrangement could be more convenient or suitable than what you suggest in your letter. Balbus the younger had made the same suggestion to me in conversation.

I have absolutely no news except that Hirtius has kept up a keen controversy with Quintus 266 on my behalf: that the latter talks violently in all kinds of places and especially at dinner parties: that much of this talk is directed against me, but that he also falls upon his father. Nothing he says, however, has a greater vraisemblance than his assertion that we are bitterly opposed to Caesar: that we are neither of us to be trusted, while I personally ought to be regarded with suspicion-this would have been truly terrible had I not perceived that our monarch knew that I had no courage left. Lastly, that my son is being bullied by me. But that he may say as much as he chooses.

I am glad I had handed Porcia's funeral oration to Lepta's letter-carrier before I got your letter. Take care then, as you love me, that it is sent to Domitius and Brutus—if it is going to be sent—in the form you mention.

About the gladiators and the other things, which you call in your letter "airy nothings," give me particulars day by day. I should wish, if you think it right, to apply to Balbus and Offilius. About giving notice of the auction I myself spoke to Balbus. He agreed—I presume that Offilius has a complete inventory, and so has Balbus—well, he agreed that it should be on an early day and at Rome: but that, if Caesar's arrival was delayed, it might be put off from day to day. 267 But the latter seems to be on the point of arriving. Therefore consider the whole business: for Vestorius is content.


As I was writing against the Epicureans before daybreak, I scratched a hasty note to you by the same lamp and in the same breath, and despatched it also before daybreak. Then, after going to sleep again and getting up at sunrise, a letter from your sister's son 268 is put into my hands, which I herewith send to you in the original copy. It begins with a gross insult. But perhaps he didn't stop to think. Well, this is how it begins: "Whatever can be said to your discredit I___" He will have it that much can be said to my discredit, but says that he does not endorse it. Could anything be in worse taste? Well, you shall read the rest—for I send it on to you—and judge for yourself. My belief is that it was because the fellow was disturbed by the daily and persistent compliments of our friend Brutus—the expression of which by him in regard to us has been reported to me by a very large number of people—that he has at length deigned to write to me and to you. Please let me know if that is so. For what he has written to his father about me I don't know. About his mother, how truly filial! "I had wished," he says, "to be with you as much as possible, and that a house should be taken for me; and I wrote to you to that effect. You have neglected to do it. Therefore we shall see much less of each other: for I cannot bear the sight of your house; you know why." The reason to which he alludes, his father tells me, is hatred of his mother. Now, my dear Atticus, assist me with your advice: “Scale the high-built wall shall I By justice pure and verity?” That is, shall I openly renounce and disown the fellow, or shall I proceed "by crooked wiles"? For as was the case with Pindar, "My mind divided cannot hit the truth." 269 On the whole the former is best suited to my character, the latter to the circumstances of the time. However, consider me as accepting whatever decision you have come to. What I am most afraid of is being caught at Tusculum. 270 In the crowd of the city these things would be less difficult. Shall I go to Astura then? What if Caesar suddenly arrives? 271 Help me with your advice, I beg. I will follow your decision, whatever it may be.


What astonishing duplicity! He writes to his father that he must abstain from entering his house on account of his mother: to his mother he writes a letter full of affection! My brother however is taking it more easily, and says that his son has reason for being angry with him. But I am following your advice: for I see that your opinion is in favour of "crooked ways." I shall come to Rome, as you think I ought, but sorely against the grain: for I cling strongly to my writing. "You will find Brutus," say you, "on the same journey." No doubt. But had it not been for this affair, that inducement would not have overcome my reluctance. For he has not come from a quarter which I should have preferred, nor has he been long away, nor has he written a syllable to me. But after all I am anxious to know what the net result of his trip has been to him. Please send me the books of which I wrote to you before, and especially Phaedrus 272 "On Gods" and... 273


REALLY? Does Brutus say that Caesar is going to join the Optimates? That's good news! But where will he find them? Unless he should by chance hang himself. 274 But what about Brutus? You say, "It is no good." What became, then, of that chef-d'oeuvre of yours which I saw in his "Parthenon"-I mean the Ahala and Brutus pedigree? 275 But what is he to do?

That's excellent hearing! "Not even has the prime author of the whole black business 276 a good word to say of our nephew." Why, I was beginning to be afraid that even Brutus was fond of him. For that seemed the meaning of the sentence in his letter to me: "But I could wish that you had a taste of his conversations with me." But, as you say, of this when we meet. And yet, which do you advise me to do? Am I to hurry to meet him or to stay where I am? The fact is, I am glued to my books, and on the other hand don't want to entertain him here. His father, as I am told, is gone as far as Saxa 277 to meet him in a high state of exasperation. He went in such an angry frame of mind that I was forced to remonstrate. But then I am much of a weather-cock myself. So we must wait and see. However, please consider your view as to my coming to Rome and the whole situation; if it appears plain to you tomorrow, let me know early in the day.


Yes, I sent Quintus the letter for your sister. When he complained that his son was on bad terms with his mother, and said that on that account he intended to give up the house to his son, I told him that the latter had written a becoming letter to his mother, but not a word to you. He expressed surprise at the former, but said that in regard to you the fault was his own, because he had frequently written in indignant terms to his son as to your unfairness to him. In this respect he says that his feelings have softened; so I read him your letter, and on the "crooked paths" 278 principle indicated that I would not stand in the way. The fact is, we went on to talk of Cana. 279 Certainly, if that were decided upon, it would be necessary for me to act thus. But, as you say, we must have some regard to our dignity, and both of us ought to take the same line, although the wrongs he has done me are the more serious, or at least the more notorious, of the two. If however Brutus also has some reasons to allege, all hesitation is at an end. But of this when we meet: for it is a very serious business and needs great caution. Tomorrow therefore, unless I get something from you this evening. 280


Lamia 281 came to see me after your departure and brought me a letter which he had received from Caesar. This letter, though dated earlier than that brought by Diochares, yet made it quite clear that he would arrive before the Roman games. 282 At the end of the letter there was a sentence ordering him to make all necessary preparations for the games, and not allow him to hurry back for nothing. Certainly from this letter it seemed beyond doubt that he would come before that day, and Lamia said that Balbus thought so too after reading that letter.

I perceive I have thus some additional days holiday, 283 but pray, as you love me, let me know how many. You will be able to ascertain from Baebius and your other neighbour Egnatius. You exhort me to spend these days in an exposition of philosophy. You are spurring a willing horse, 284 but you see that I am obliged to have Dolabella constantly with me on the days you mention. But had I not been detained by this business of Torquatus, 285 there would have been a sufficient number of days to allow of making an excursion to Puteoli 286 and returning in time. Lamia indeed has heard from Balbus, as it seems, that there is a large sum of ready money in the house, which ought to be divided as soon as possible, as well as a great amount of silver plate: that the auction of everything except the real property ought to take place at the first possible opportunity. Please write and tell me your opinion. For my part, if I had to pick out a man from the whole world, I couldn't easily have selected anyone more painstaking, obliging, or, by heaven, more zealous to serve me than Vestorius. 287 I have written him a very full and frank letter, and I suppose you have done the same. I think that is enough. What do you say? My only uneasiness is the fear of seeming too careless. So I shall wait for a letter from you.


POLLEX, for his part, having appointed to meet me by the 13th of August, has in fact done so at Lanuvium on the 12th. But he was true to his name—a thumb and not a finger, he pointed to nothing. You must get your information, therefore, from his own lips. I have been to call on Balbus; for Lepta, being anxious about his own contract for the wine, 288 had induced me to go and see him. He was staying in that villa at Lanuvium which he has made over to Lepidus. The first thing he said to me was: "I recently received a letter from Caesar, in which he positively asserts that he will arrive before the Roman games." I read the letter. There was a good deal about my "Cato." He says that by repeatedly reading it he had increased his command of language: when he had read the "Cato" of Brutus he thought himself eloquent. Next I learnt from him that acceptance of Cluvius's inheritance (oh, careless Vestorius!) was to be an unconditional acceptance in the presence of Witnesses within sixty days. I was afraid I should have to send for Vestorius. As it is, I need only send him a commission to accept on my order. This same Pollex therefore shall go. I also discussed the question of Cluvius's suburban pleasure-grounds with Balbus. Nothing could be more liberal: he said that he would write to Caesar at once: but that Cluvius had left Terentia a legacy of fifty sestertia (£48o), charged on Hordeonius's share, as also money for his tomb and many other things, but that my share had no charge on it. Pray give Vestorius a gentle rebuke. What could be less proper than that the druggist Plotius should have employed his servants to give Balbus full particulars so long in advance, while he gave me none even by my own? I am sorry about Cossinius; I was very fond of him. I will assign to Quintus whatever surplus there is after paying my debts and purchases. The latter I expect will force me to borrow more. About the house at Arpinum I know nothing. P.S.-There is no occasion for you to scold Vestorius. For after I had sealed this packet my letter-carrier arrived after dark bearing a letter from him with full particulars and a copy of the will.


"When your order, Agamemnon, reached my ears," not "to come"—for that, too, I should have done, had it not been for Torquatus 289 —but to write, "I at once" gave up what I had begun, threw aside what I had in hand, and "hewed out a model of thy design." 290 I wish you would ascertain from Pollex the state of my accounts. It is not becoming that my son should be straitened in this his first year at Athens. Afterwards we will be more particular in keeping down his expenses. Pollex also must be sent back to Puteoli, in order that Vestorius may accept the inheritance. 291 It is clear that I must not go there, both for the reasons mentioned in your letter and because Caesar is near at hand. Dolabella writes to say that he is coming to see me on the 14th. What a tiresome instructor! 292


I find the traces of your affection whichever way I turn: for instance, quite recently in the matter of Tigellius. 293 I perceived from your letter that you had taken a great deal of trouble. I therefore thank you for your kind intention. But I must say a few words on the subject. Cipius I think it was who said, "I am not asleep to everybody." 294 Thus I too, my dear Gallus, am not a slave to everybody. Yet what, after all, is this slavery? In old times, when I was thought to be exercising royal power, 295 I was not treated with such deference as I am now by all Caesar's most intimate friends, except by this fellow. I regard it as something gained that I no longer endure a fellow more pestilent than his native land, 296 and I think his value has been pretty well appraised in the Hipponactean verses of Licinius Calvus. 297 But observe the cause of his anger with me. I had undertaken Phamea's cause, for his own sake, because he was an intimate friend. Phamea came to me and said that the arbitrator had arranged to take his case on the very day on which the jury were obliged to consider their verdict in regard to P. Sestius. 298 I answered that I could not possibly manage it: but that if he selected any other day he chose, I would not fail to appear for him. He, however, knowing that he had a grandson who was a fashionable flutist and singer, 299 left me, as I thought, in a somewhat angry frame of mind. There is a pair of "Sardians-for-sale" 300 for you, one more worthless than the other. You now know my position and the unfairness of that swaggerer. Send me your "Cato": I am eager to read it: that I haven't read it yet is a reflexion on us both.


First, health to Attica, whom I imagine to be in the country, so I wish her much health, as also to Pilia. If there is anything fresh about Tigellius, let me know it. He is—as Fadius Gallus has written me word—bringing up a most unfair accusation against me, on the ground that I left Phamea in the lurch after having undertaken to plead his cause. This cause, indeed, I had undertaken against the sons of Gnaeus Octavius, much against my will—but I did also wish well to Phamea. For, if I remember rightly, when I was standing for the consulship he sent me a promise through you to do anything he could; and I was no less mindful of that courtesy than if I had availed myself of it. He called on me and told me that the arbitrator had arranged to take his case on the very day on which the jury were bound by the Pompeian law to consider their verdict on our friend Sestius. For you are aware that the days in those suits have been fixed by law. I replied that he was not ignorant of my obligations to Sestius: if he selected any other day he chose, I would not fail to appear for him. So on that occasion he left me in a rage. I think I told you about it. I didn't trouble myself, of course, nor did I think that the wholly groundless anger of a man not in the least connected with me required any attention from me. But the last time I was in Rome I told Gallus what I had heard, without however mentioning the younger Balbus. Gallus made it his business to go into the matter, as he writes me word. He says that the allegation of Tigellius is that I suspect him because I have it on my conscience that I left Phamea in the lurch. Wherefore all I ask you to do is to get anything you can from our friend the younger Balbus, but not to trouble yourself about me. It is a sop to one's dignity to have some one to hate without restraint and not to be a slave to everybody (as the man was not "asleep to everybody"). 301 Yet, by heaven, as you know very well, those men 302 are rather acting as slaves to me, if to pay a man constant attentions is being a slave.


YOU gave me a hint in one of your letters, that I should set about writing a letter to Caesar on a larger scale. Balbus also recently, at our meeting at Lanuvium, informed me that he and Oppius had written to tell Caesar that I had read his books against Cato and warmly admired them. Accordingly, I have composed an epistle to Caesar to be transmitted to Dolabella. But I sent a copy of it to Oppius and Balbus, and wrote also to them, saying that they should only order it to be transmitted to Dolabella, if they themselves approved of the copy. So they have written back to say that they never read anything better, and they have ordered my letter to be delivered to Dolabella.

Vestorius has written to ask me to authorize the conveyance—as far as I am concerned—of the estate of Brinnius to a slave of their own for a certain Hetereius, to enable him to make the conveyance himself in due form to Hetereius at Puteoli. 303 If you think it is all right send that slave to me. For I presume that Vestorius has written to you also.

As to Caesar's arrival, I have had the same information in a letter from Oppius and Balbus as from you. I am surprised that you have not yet had any conversation with Tigellius. For instance, I should much like to know how much he got-yet, after all, I don't care a straw. Where do you think I ought to go, 304 if it is not to be Alsium? And in fact I have written to Murena to ask him to put me up, but I think he has started with Matius. Sallustius therefore shall have the burden of my entertainment.

After I had written the above line, Eros informed me that Murena had answered him with the greatest kindness. Let him be our host, therefore. For Silius has no cushions: while Dida, I believe, has given up his whole villa to guests.


You lament having torn up the letter: don't vex yourself, it is all safe. You can get it from my house whenever you please. For the warning you give me I am much obliged, and I beg you will always act thus. For you seem to fear that, unless I keep on good terms with him, I may laugh "a real Sardinian laugh." 305 But look out for yourself. Hands off: our master is coming sooner than we thought. I fear we Catonian blockheads may find ourselves on the block. 306 My dear Gallus, don't imagine that anything could be better than that part of your letter which begins: "Everything else is slipping away." This in your ear in confidence: keep it to yourself: don't tell even your freed-man Apelles. Besides us two no one talks in that tone. Whether it is well or ill to do so, that is my look-out: but whatever it is, it is our speciality. Work on then, and don't stir a nail's breadth, as they say, from the pen; for it is the creator of eloquence: 307 and for my part I now devote a considerable part of the night to it also.


THE reason of my not sending you at the time a copy of the letter which I wrote to Caesar was that I forgot. Neither was the motive what you suspected it to have been-shame of appearing in your eyes to be ridiculously time-serving 308 nor, by heaven, did I write otherwise than I should have written to an equal and a man like myself. For I really do think well of those books of his, 309 as I told you when we met. Accordingly, I wrote without any flattery, and at the same time in such a tone as I think will give him as much pleasure to read it as possible.

At last I have certain news of Attica. So please congratulate her all over again. Tell me all about Tigellius, and that promptly; for I am feeling uneasy. Now listen to this: Quintus 310 arrives tomorrow, but whether at my house or yours I don't know. He wrote me word that he would be at Rome on the 25th. But I have sent a man to invite him here: though, by heaven, I must come to Rome, lest Caesar should make a descent there before me.


I will answer the end part of your last letter first—for I have noticed that that is what you great orators occasionally do. You express disappointment at not getting letters from me; whereas I never fail to send one whenever I am informed by your family that somebody is going to you. I think I gather from your letter that you are not likely to take any step rashly, nor to decide on any plan before you know in what direction that fellow Caecilius Bassus 311 is likely to break out. That is what I had hoped, for I felt confidence in your wisdom, and now your very welcome letter makes me quite secure. And I beg you as a special favour that you will, as often as you can, make it possible for me to know what you are doing, what is being done, and also what you intend to do. Although I felt much distressed at your leaving me, I consoled myself at the time by thinking that you were going to a scene of the most profound tranquillity, and were leaving the cloud of serious troubles overhanging us. In both cases the actual truth has been the reverse. Where you are a war has broken out: with us there has followed a period of peace. Yet, after all, it is a peace in which, had you been here, there would have been many things that would not have pleased you, things in fact which do not please Caesar himself. In truth, this is always among the results of civil wars—that it is not only what the victor wishes that is done: concessions have also to be made to those by whose aid the victory was won. For my part, I have become so hardened that at our friend Caesar's games I saw T. Plancus 312 and listened to the poems of Laberius and Publilius 313 with the utmost sangfroid There is nothing I feel the lack of so much as of some one with whom to laugh at these things in a confidential and philosophic spirit. You will be the man, if you will only come as soon as possible. That you should do so I think is important to yourself as well as to me.


I read your letter with very great pleasure. The most gratifying thing in it was to learn that mine had reached your hands; for I felt no doubt that you would find pleasure in reading it. I was afraid it would not reach you. I learn from your letter that the war now raging in Syria and the province of Syria itself have been put in your hands by Caesar. I hope it may turn out to your honour and success. I feel confident that it will do so, for I have full reliance both on your activity and prudence. But what you say as to the suspicion of a Parthian invasion caused me great uneasiness. For I was able to conjecture the amount of your forces, and your letter confirms my calculation. Therefore I can only hope that that nation will not move until the legions reach you, which I hear are on their way But if you have not forces adequate for the struggle, do not forget to follow the policy of M. Bibulus, who kept himself shut up in a very strongly fortified and well-supplied town, as long as the Parthians were in the province. 314 But you will settle these points better on the spot, and in view of the actual circumstances. For myself, I shall continue to feel anxious as to what you are doing, until I know what you have done. I have never had anyone to whom to give a letter without giving one. I beg you to do the same, and above all, when you write to your family, to assure them of my devotion to you.


Marcus Cicero315 greets Quintus Valerius, son of Quintus, legatus pro praetore. 316 I have very close ties with the townsmen of Volaterrae. In fact, having received great kindness from me, they repaid me to the full: for they never failed me either in my prosperity or my adversity. And even if there were no special reason for our union, yet, having a very warm affection for you, and feeling that you have a high value for me, I should have warned and urged you to have a regard for their fortunes, especially as their case for the retention of civil rights is unusually strong: first, because by the blessing of heaven they contrived to elude the vindictive measures of the Sullan epoch; and secondly, because my defence of them in my consulship received the hearty approval of the Roman people. 317 For the tribunes having promulgated an exceedingly unfair law about their lands, I easily persuaded the senate and people of Rome to allow citizens, whom fortune had spared, to retain their rights. This policy of mine was confirmed by the agrarian law of Gaius Caesar in his first consulship, which freed the territory and town of Volaterrae from all danger for ever. This makes me feel sure that a man who seeks the support of new adherents will wish that old benefits conferred by him should be maintained. It is only therefore what your prudence would dictate, either to keep to the precedent set by the man to whose party and authority you have with so much personal honour adhered, or at least to reserve the whole case for his decision. There is one thing about which you can have no hesitation: you would wish to have a town of such sound and well-established credit and of so honourable a character for ever bound to you by a service of the highest utility on your part.

Thus far the purpose of my words is to exhort and persuade you. What remains will be of the nature of a personal request. For I don't wish you to think that I offer you advice for your own sake only, but that I am also preferring a request to you and asking for what is of consequence to myself. Well then, you will oblige me in the highest degree, if you decide that the Volaterrani are to be left intact in every respect and in full possession of their rights. Their homes and houses, their property and fortunes—which have already been preserved by the immortal gods, as well as by the most eminent citizens of our Republic with the warmest approval of the Roman people—I commend to your honour, justice, and liberality. If circumstances had granted me the power, proportionate to my old influence, of defending the Volaterrani in the same way as I was accustomed to protect my friends, there is no service, no struggle in fact calculated to be of use to them, that I would have omitted. But since I feel sure that with you I have no less influence than I ever had with all the world, I beg you in the name of close ties and of the mutual and equal goodwill existing between us, to serve the people of Volaterrae in such a way as to make them think that you have been set over that business by a special interposition of providence, as the one man with whom I, their undeviating supporter, was able to exert the greatest influence.


CICERO greets Q. Valerius, legatus pro praetore. I am not sorry that my friendship for you is known as widely as possible. Not, however, that I wish on that plea—as you may well believe—to prevent your carrying out the business you have undertaken with good faith and activity, to the satisfaction of Caesar, who has intrusted to you a matter of great importance and difficulty. For though I am besieged with petitions from men who are assured of your kindness to me, I am always careful not to embarrass you in the performance of your duty by any self-seeking on my part.

I have been very intimate with Gaius Curtius from our earliest days. I was grieved at the most undeserved calamity which befell him and the others in the Sullan epoch: and when it appeared that those who had suffered a similar wrong, though they lost all their property, were yet allowed by universal consent to return to their native country, I supported the removal of his disability. This man has a holding 318 in the territory of Volaterrae, having betaken himself to it as a kind of salvage from shipwreck. Recently also Caesar has selected him for a seat in the senate—a rank which he can scarcely maintain if he loses this holding. 319 Now it is a great hardship that, having been raised in rank, he should occupy an inferior position in regard to wealth, and it is not at all consistent that a man who is a senator by Caesar's favour should be dispossessed of land which is being divided by Caesar's order. But I don't so much care to write at length on the legal merits of the case, lest I should be thought to have had influence with you owing to its strength rather than from your personal feeling for me. Wherefore I beg you with more than common earnestness to look upon Gaius Curtius's affair as mine; and whatever you do for my sake, I beg you to consider, though you have done it for Gaius Curtius, that I have from your hand what he has obtained through my influence. I reiterate this request with warmth.


WHEN on your departure for Gaul you called at my house, as was natural from our close connexion and the great courtesy you have always shewn to me, I spoke to you about the land in Gaul which paid rent to the municipal town of Atella; and I indicated to you how warmly interested I was in the welfare of that town. Since your departure, however; as a question has arisen as to a matter of great importance to this most respectable town-very closely connected with me—and as to the performance of a duty on my part, I thought I ought to write to you in more explicit terms. I am quite aware, however, of the nature of the circumstances' and the limits of your power, and clearly understand that what Caesar has assigned to you is the transaction of a certain business, not the exercise of judicial powers. 320 Therefore I only ask of you as much as I think that you have both the power and the will to do for my sake. And to begin with I would have you consider—what is the fact—that the whole wealth of the town consists of that rent, while in the present state of affairs it is hard-pressed by very serious burdens, and is labouring under the greatest difficulties. Although this seems to be a misfortune common to many others, I assure you that certain special calamities have befallen this particular municipality, which I don't specify for fear that, while bewailing the miseries of my own connexions. I should seem to be casting a reflexion upon certain persons upon whom I have no wish to do so. Accordingly, if I had' not had a strong hope of our being able to secure the approval of Gaius Caesar for the plea of this town, there would have been no reason for my making an effort at this time to secure any favour from you. But because I feel sure that he will take into consideration both the respectability of the town and the justice of its case, and also its good disposition towards himself, I have not hesitated to urge upon you to reserve this cause for his decision. This request I should nevertheless have made to you if I had never heard of your having done anything of the sort; yet I did conceive a stronger hope of gaining my request when I was told that the people of Regium had obtained the same favour from you. Although these latter have a certain connexion with you, yet your affection for me compels me to hope that the indulgence you extend to your own friends you will also extend to mine: especially as these are the only ones for whom I prefer the request, whereas I have a considerable number of connexions who are in a similarly hard case. Though I think you believe that I am not doing this without good reason, and am not influenced by a frivolous and selfish motive in preferring this request, yet I would have you believe my definite assertion, that I owe a very great deal to this municipality, and that there has been no time either of my prosperity or adversity in which its zeal for my service has not been displayed in a remarkable manner. Wherefore again and again, in the name of our close union and of your unbroken and eminent affection for me, I ask and implore this of you with no common earnestness. Since you understand that the fortunes of a town are involved, which is very closely connected with me by ties of relationship, interchange of services and affection, do, if we obtain from Caesar what we hope, allow us to consider that we have obtained it by your kindness. But if we do not,. instead of that allow us to consider that at least you have done your best to enable us to obtain it. By doing this you will not only have greatly obliged me, but by a signal service you will have bound to yourself and your family men of the highest character, a number of the most honourable as well as the most grateful people, eminently worthy of being connected with you.


As I was conscious of how much I valued you, and had had practical proof of your kind feeling towards me, I did not hesitate to make a request to you which it was incumbent upon me to make. How much I value P. Sestius I know in my own heart; how much I am bound to value him is known both to you and all the world. Having learnt from others that you were very much attached to me, he asked me to write in very explicit terms to you about the affair of Gaius Albinius, a member of the senate, whose daughter is the mother of L. Sestius, a young man of very high character, the son of P. Sestius. My reason for writing this letter is to inform you that not only am I anxious on behalf of P. Sestius, but that Sestius is so also on behalf of Albinius. The case is this: Gaius Albinius received some properties from M. Laberius on a valuation, properties which Laberius had bought from Caesar forming part of the property of Plotius. If I should say that it was not in the interests of the state that those properties should be divided, I should appear to be trying to enlighten you rather than to be asking a favour of you. Nevertheless, since it is Caesar's will that the sales and assignments of land effected by Sulla should hold good, in order to give the impression of greater security to his own, pray what security can Caesar's own sales have, if properties are divided which he himself caused to be sold? However, that is a difficulty for your own wisdom to consider. My plain request to you—and I could not make it with greater earnestness or in a juster cause or more from the bottom of my heart—is that you should spare Albinius and not lay a finger on the properties of Laberius. You will not only cause me great delight, but will in a certain sense raise my reputation also, if I am the cause of Publius Sestius satisfying the claims of a man very closely connected with me, since I owe him more than anyone else in the world. I warmly and repeatedly beg you to do so. You cannot do me a greater favour: you shall have reason to know that I am exceedingly obliged by it.


I am not surprised that you appreciate my services, for I know you to be the most grateful man in the world, and that I have never ceased to declare. For you have not merely felt grateful, you have shewn it in practice also by the most complete return possible. Therefore, in all your remaining concerns, you shall find that I have the same zeal and the same goodwill to you.

You commend to me that most honourable lady your wife Pompeia. I therefore at once spoke to Sura on reading your letter, and bade him tell her from me to let me know anything she wanted done, and to say that I would do it with the greatest zeal and assiduity. And this I will do, and if it seems necessary I will call upon her personally. Please write and tell her not to consider anything to be so great or so small, as to seem to me difficult or beneath my notice. Everything which I may do in your interest will appear to me at once unlaborious and honourable.

As to Dionysius, 321 as you love me, settle the business. Whatever pledge you give him I will make good. If; however, he shews himself the villain that he is, you will lead him captive in your triumph. Confound the Dalmatians who are giving you all this trouble! But, as you say, they will soon be taken prisoners, and will add a lustre to your campaign, for they have always been considered a warlike people.


If you are well, I am glad; for I am yours by usus, Atticus's in full dominium. therefore the usufruct of me is yours, the ownership his. 322 If indeed he puts us up for sale in one lot, he won t make much of us. But what an addition to my selling price will be my declaration that whatever I am or have, and whatever position I enjoy in the world, is all owing to you! Wherefore, my dear Cicero, persevere in your constant care for my welfare, and recommend me in a letter of introduction of the finest brand to the successor of Sulpicius. I shall thereby have greater facility in obeying your maxims, and of seeing you to my joy by the spring, and of breaking up my establishment and bringing my belongings safely home. But, my dear distinguished friend, do not shew this letter to Atticus. Let him continue to regard me as heart and soul his, and not as one who "whitewashes two walls out of the same pot." 323 So, patron mine, good-bye to you, and give Tiro kind regards from me.

29 October.

DCLXXV (F V, 10 a)

AFTER the thanksgiving had been decreed in my honour I started for Dalmatia. I stormed and took six fortified towns. The largest of them, indeed, I have had practically to storm four times 324 for I took four towers and four walls and their entire citadel, which snow, cold, and rain forced me to evacuate. It was mortifying to be obliged thus to abandon a town already taken and a war practically finished. Wherefore I beg you, if there is any occasion for it, to plead my cause with Caesar, and to regard it as your duty to defend my character in every respect, with the full Conviction that you have no more devoted friend than myself. Good-bye.

5 December, Narona.


WELL, I have no reason after all to repent my formidable guest! For he made himself exceedingly pleasant. But on his arrival at the villa of Philippus on the evening of the second day of the Saturnalia, 325 the villa was so choke full of soldiers that there was scarcely a dining-room left for Caesar himself to dine in. Two thousand men, if you please! I was in a great taking as to what was to happen the next day; and so Cassius Barba came to my aid and gave me guards. A camp was pitched in the open, the villa was put in a state of defence. He stayed with Philippus on the third day of the Saturnalia till one o'clock, without admitting anyone. He was engaged on his accounts, I think, with Balbus. Then he took a walk on the beach. After two he went to the bath. Then he heard about Mamurra without changing countenance. 326 He was anointed: took his place at the table. He was under a course of emetics, 327 and so ate and drank without scruple and as suited his taste. It was a very good dinner, and well served, and not only so, but "Well cooked, well seasoned food, with rare discourse: A banquet in a word to cheer the heart." 328 Besides this, the staff were entertained in three rooms in a very liberal style. The freedmen of lower rank and the slaves had everything they could want. But the upper sort had a really recherché dinner. In fact, I shewed that I was somebody. However, he is not a guest to whom one would say, "Pray look me up again on your way back." Once is enough. We didn't say a word about politics. There was plenty of literary talk. In short, he was pleased and enjoyed himself. He said he should stay one day at Puteoli, another at Baiae. That's the story of the entertainment, or I might call it the billeting on me—trying to the temper, but not seriously inconvenient. I am staying on here for a short time and then go to Tusculum. When he was passing Dolabella's villa, the whole guard formed up on the right and left of his horse, and nowhere else. 329 This I was told by Nicias.


I congratulate our favourite Baiae on its becoming, as you say, a healthy place; unless perchance it is fond of and flatters you and, so long as you are there, has forgotten its usual habits. If that is really so, it doesn't at all surprise me that sky and land are foregoing their usual evil effects.

My poor little speech for Deiotarus, for which you asked, I have with me, though I thought I had not. Accordingly I am sending it to you. Please read it with the understanding that it is a slight and weak case and not much worthy of being committed to writing. But I wished to send an old host and friend a small present—of loose texture and coarse thread—as his own presents usually are 330 . As for yourself, I would have you shew wisdom and courage, in order that the moderation and dignity of your bearing may throw discredit on the unfair treatment you have met with from others. 331


He 332 has been to see me and with a very dejected air. Said I to him: "Why so gloomy ?" "Can you ask," said he, "when I am about to start on a journey, and a journey to the seat of war—a journey, too, that is not only dangerous, but discreditable as well ? " 333 "What is the compulsion, then?" said I. "Debt," said he, "and yet I haven't even money enough for the journey." At this point I took a hint from your kind of eloquence. I held my tongue. He went on: "But what gives me most pain is my uncle. " 334 "Why is that?" said I. "Because he is angry with me," said he. "Why do you allow him to be so," said I-for I prefer using that word to "Why do you incur it ?" "I won't allow it," said he, "for I will remove the reason." "Excellent !" said I; "but if it won't be disagreeable to you, I should like to know what the reason is." "Because, while hesitating as to whom to marry, I vexed my mother, and consequently him too. However, nothing can make up for doing that in my eyes. I will do what they wish." "I wish you good luck," I said, "and I commend your resolution. But when is it to be?" "Oh, I don't care about the time," he said, "since I accept the thing." "Well, my opinion is," said I, "that you should do it before starting. You will thus oblige your father also." "I will do as you think right," said he. This was the end of our conversation.

But listen to me! You know the 3rd of January is my birthday. You must come to dinner therefore.

I had written thus far, when lo and behold comes a summons to Rome from Lepidus. I suppose the augurs want me for consecrating a temple-site. 335 Well, I must go. Don't let's have any rumpus. 336 I shall see you therefore. [The following letters of introduction cannot be dated. They probably were written early in the year.]


THERE is a certain L. Manlius Sosis. He is a native of Catina; but along with the rest of the people of Naples became a Roman citizen, and is a member of the council at Naples, as he had been enrolled as a citizen of that municipality before the citizenship was granted to the Italian allies. His brother has lately died at Catina. I don't think he is likely to have any dispute about the inheritance, and he is at this moment in possession of the property. But as he has besides some business of old standing in his native Sicily, I commend to you both this inheritance from his brother and all other of his concerns, and above all the man himself as being of the highest character and very intimate with myself, accomplished in those studies of literature and philosophy which form my chief delight. I beg you, therefore, to understand that, whether he has or has not come to Sicily, he is one of my most intimate and closely united friends, and to treat him in such a way as to make him understand that my recommendation has been of great service to him.


I am very intimate with Gaius Flavius, an honourable and accomplished Roman knight. For he was a great friend of my son-in-law Gaius Piso, and both he and his brother L. Flavius pay me very constant attention. Wherefore I would wish you, out of consideration for me, to treat Gaius Flavius with the utmost possible respect and liberality, in whatever ways you can do so with honour and due regard for your position. You cannot possibly oblige me more than by so doing. But besides that, I assure you—and I don't say this from any ulterior motive, but influenced by the truth no less than by friendship and personal connexion—that you will extract great pleasure from the services and assiduity of Gaius Flavius, as also from his brilliant position and popularity among his own friends. Good-bye.


IN the town of Halesa, so well known for its wealth and high character, I have some friends very closely united to me by the ties of hospitality and intimacy named M. Clodius Archagethus and C. Clodius Philo. But I am afraid that, owing to the number of people I recommend to you, I may appear to be putting all my recommendations on the same footing from some ulterior motive. Still, I would have you believe that this family and these members of it are united to me by a long-standing friendship, by mutual services, and by goodwill. Therefore I beg you, with more than common earnestness, to oblige them in every way, as far as your honour and official position shall allow you. You will exceedingly oblige me by doing so.


I am exceedingly intimate with Gnaeus Otacilius Naso, certainly as much so as with any man of his order. For in our daily intercourse I am greatly delighted with his kindness and honesty. You need not stop to see in what precise words I recommend a man to you, with whom I am as intimate as I have said. He has some business in your province, which is being managed by his freedmen Hilarus, Antigonus, and Demostratus. These men and all Naso's affairs I commend to you as though they were my own. I shall feel very grateful if I learn that this recommendation has had great weight with you. Good-bye.


I have ties of hospitality with Lyson, son of Lyson, of Lilybaeum, dating from the times of his grandfather. I continue to receive strong proofs of his regard, and have ascertained him to be worthy of his father and grandfather. Wherefore I recommend him to you with more than common earnestness, and warmly beg you to be at the trouble to make him feel that my recommendation has been of the utmost assistance to him and very greatly to his honour.


C. Avianius Philoxenus shewed me hospitality in old times, and beyond that is also an intimate friend, whom Caesar as a favour to me enrolled among the citizens of New Comum. He took the name of Avianius, because his most intimate friend was Flaccus Avianius, a man, as I think you know, who was a very dear friend of mine. I mention all these facts to shew you that this recommendation of mine is no ordinary one. I therefore beg you to oblige him in everything which you can do without inconvenience, to consider him as one of your friends, and to make him feel that this letter of mine has been of great service to him. You will oblige me in no common degree by so doing.


WITH Demetrius Megas I have ancient ties of hospitality, and a friendship such as I had with no other Sicilian. Dolabella at my request procured him citizenship from Caesar, and I was present when it was bestowed. Accordingly his name is now P. Cornelius. And when, on account of certain infamous persons who used to sell grants from him, Caesar ordered the tablet containing the names of those who had received citizenship to be taken down, he told the same Dolabella in my hearing that he had nothing to fear as to Megas, and that his grant to him held good. I wished you to know this in order that you might reckon him as a Roman citizen; and in all other respects I commend him to you with an earnestness beyond which I have not gone with respect to anyone. You will do me the very greatest favour if you shew him by your treatment of him that my recommendation has been greatly to his honour.


I recommend Hippias, son of Philoxenus, of Calacta, to you with more than common earnestness. His property, as the matter has been reported to me, is held by the state for a debt which is not properly his, contrary to the laws of the Calactini. If that is so, even without any recommendation from me, the merits of the case itself ought to secure him your assistance. But however the matter stands, I beg you as a compliment to me to expedite his case, and both in this and in all other matters to oblige him as far as your honour and position will allow. It will be doing me a very great favour.


L. Bruttius a Roman knight, a young man of every sort of accomplishment, is among my most intimate friends, and shews me very constant attention. I have had a great friendship with his father from the time of my Sicilian quaestorship. In point of fact Bruttius is at this moment staying with me at Rome: still I recommend his house, his property, and his agents to you with an earnestness beyond which I cannot go in such a recommendation. You will exceedingly oblige me if you take the trouble to let Bruttius feel, as I have assured him will be the case, that my recommendation has been of great assistance to him.


AN old connexion grew up between the Titurnian family and myself. Of this family the last survivor is M. Titurnius Rufus, whom I am bound to protect with every possible care and attention. It is then in your power to make him think that he has a sufficient protector in me. Wherefore I recommend him to you with more than common earnestness, and I beg you to make him feel that this recommendation has been of great assistance to him. You will very greatly oblige me by doing so.


WHAT do you say? Ought it not be so? I think it ought for my part. The word SUO ought also to be added. But, if you please, let us avoid exciting prejudice, which however I have myself often neglected. 337 I am glad the sweating has done you good. If only Tusculum has done so also, good heavens! what a charm that would add to the place in my eyes! But if you love me, as you do, or make a very pretty imitation of doing—an imitation which quite answers its purpose-well, however that may be, nurse your health now, to which, while devoting yourself to my service, you have not been devoted enough. You know what it requires-good digestion, freedom from fatigue, moderate walking, friction of the skin, easy operation of the bowels. 338 Be sure you come back looking well. That would make me still fonder of Tusculum as well as of you. Stir up Parhedrus to hire the garden for himself: by doing so you will keep the actual gardener up to the mark. 339 That utter scoundrel Helico used to pay a thousand sesterces, when there was no hot-bed, no water turned on, no wall, no garden-shed. Is he to have the laugh of us, after we have spent all that money? Warm the fellow up, as I do Motho 340 and so get plenty 341 of flowers. What arrangement is being made about the Crabra, 342 though now indeed we have enough water and to spare, I should yet wish to know. I will send the sun-dial and books, if the weather is dry. But have you no books with you, or are you composing in the Sophoclean vein? Mind you have something to shew for your labour. Caesar's friend Aulus Ligurius 343 is dead: he was a good man and a good friend to me. Let me know when we are to expect you. Take great care of youself. Good-bye

DCXC (F XVI, 20)

Upon my life, my dear Tiro, your health makes me very uneasy. But I feel confident that if you continue to take the same care as you have begun to do, you will soon be strong. Arrange the books, get the catalogue made when it pleases Metrodorus, 344 since you have to live according to his orders. Settle with the gardener as you think right. You can go to see the gladiators on the first, and return home next day. And I think that is what you had better do. But as you please. Take great care of yourself, if you love me. Good-bye.

1 I think this letter must belong to the early part of B.C. 45, not to December, B.C. 46, as Messrs. Tyrrell and Purser and Mueller place it. Caesar only left Rome for Spain on the 2nd of December, and Cicero could hardly have been expecting news so soon. Moreover, Cassius—who declined to accompany Caesar to Spain—seems to have gone on his tour in the early part of B.C. 45, and to be staying at Brundisium.

2 Reading, in palaestra est. Mueller, however, retains the MS. reading, molesta est, "only gives me annoyance," as though it reminded him of what he should, without enabling him to do it—video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor.

3 Who said that men ought to "be free and fear slavery worse than death," Rep. 387B. To be "busy about other things" or "about something else " is a kind of proverbial way of saying that one is not attending to serious business.

4 The Epicureans. The Greek terms which follow are those used by them-κατ᾽ εἰδώλων φαντασίας, "according to the appearance of idols" or shapes"; διανοητικὰς φαντασίας, "mental impressions." These refer to the doctrines of Democritus as to the formation of mental impressions by fine atoms thrown off the surface of things, which, retaining the same position and relation, and hurrying through the void, strike the senses, which convey these "atom-pictures" to the mind. Cicero hits the true objection, founded on the fact that we can recall these pictures at will.

5 From the Stoic sect.

6 The summum bonum of the Stoics.

7 The summum bonum of the Epicureans.

8 For Caecina's book against Caesar, see p 123. Suetonius (Caes. 75) calls it "most abusive" (criminosissimus).

9 In the Orator (§ 35) Cicero says that he wrote his Cato at the instigation of Brutus.

10 In the lex Iulia Municipalis, passed this year, qui praeconium designationem libitinamve faciet, i.e., "auctioneers and undertakers," are excluded from any magistracy, or from being senator or decurio in a colonia, municipium, or praeftctura (Bruns, Fontes Juris Romani, p. 106). Cicero's question seems to imply that the law was not actually passed, as he would have been able to see for himself that qui faciet would not exclude those who had followed these occupations in the past. He has to apply to Caesar's agent for information about it. Auctioneers were disliked—as brokers—because they had to do with confiscated property, as with ruined estates generally. See 2 Phil. 64, vox acerbissima praeconis.

11 Servius Sulpicius Galba, of whom we shall hear again. He was great-grandfather of the Emperor Galba, who, it is interesting to note, maintained his ancestor's "carefulness" in money.

12 Written the previous year.

13 Son of the recipient of this letter.

14 To be repaid by Dolabella after his divorce from Tullia.

15 Hesiod, WD 289: τῆς δ᾽ ἀρετῆς ἱδρῶτα θεοὶ προπάροιθεν ἔθηκαν.

16 Mueller places this letter in the early part of B.C. 46, Klotz in October, B.C. 46 (which I accepted in introduction to vol. i., p. xlv). But it is evidently after the news of his divorce of Terentia and re-marriage with Publilia. This must not only have taken place, but long enough to allow a post to and from Corcyra: and if the divorce took place at the end of B.C. 46—as Klotz in his own table dates it—then the letter belongs to the early part of B.C. 45.

17 Cicero in this paragraph is referring to his divorce of Terentia.

18 An astonishing remark to a man whom Cicero's daughter had just divorced for gross misconduct. But the letter is forced and cold.

19 The text is corrupt, and we know nothing of Septima, if, indeed, that is the name. We may suppose a reference to a dinner party at a rich freedman's table, with a learned lady who rather bored the guests. For fercularum (MS. cularum) iocatiuncularum, bons mots, has been suggested.

20 For Bursa, see vol. i., p. 365. Cicero seems to be jesting at his illiterate character, but rather clumsily. We may suppose that his recall had been brought about by Dolabella.

21 The auctions of confiscated property, at which P. Sulla was a constant bidder or sector, which was always considered discreditable. He had begun the business early in the time of the confiscations of his uncle, the dictator Sulla, see de Off. ii. § 29, where Cicero speaks of his conduct now as even worse than in the previous matter. In his defence of him in B.C. 60 he put a very different complexion on his character; but his conduct as Caesar's legatus seems to have alienated him thoroughly. See pp. 51, 53.

22 Aulus Manlius Torquatus was praetor in B.C. 52, and presided at the trial of Milo. He had supported Cicero at various times of difficulty (de Fin. 2, § 72).

23 Cicero had suggested just the reverse to Marcellus, p.184.

24 I.e., from the Pompeian army after Pharsalia.

25 Γλαυχ᾽ εἰς Ἀθήνας. See vol. i., p.290; vol. iii., p.73.

26 See p. 185.

27 Madvig conjectures macellarius, "victualler,"to correspond with the trade of Attius. But it is not necessary.

28 As proconsul of Gallia Cisalpina. See p.201.

29 The Stoic doctrine, which Cassius had abandoned for Epicurism. See p. 175.

30 ἀταραξίαν, apparently a Stoic word.

31 See p.175; vol. i., p. 68.

32 ἀταραξίαν, a Stoic term. Cassius retorts on the Stoics that this ἀταραξία which they advocate is best obtained by the Epicurean doctrines.

33 Cassius uses Greek words for these philosophical terms φιλήδονοι, φιλόκαλοι, φιλοδίκαιοι. For Sulla, see p.185.

34 Afranius and Petreius were conquered by Caesar in B.C. 49. See p. 1.

35 Baetica and the legions there were disaffected to Caesar all along. They turned out Caesar's first governor, Cassius, and afterwards Trebonius. After Thapsus (B.C. 46) they invited the surviving Pompeians to come to them, and meanwhile elected Titus Quintus Scapula and Quintus Afranius to command them. When Cn. and Sextus Pompeius and the other survivors of Thapsus arrived, the state of things became so serious that Caesar had to go to Spain himself.

36 The dates of this and the following letters to Atticus are deduced from DLX and DLXI, which give us the first indication—23rd of March. As Cicero says he will write every day, supposing no letter to be missing, we can feel fairly certain of their correctness.

37 A doctor mentioned by Horace, Sat. ii. 3, 161.

38 The augurs met regularly on the Nones of each month. The only admissible excuse for non-attendance (besides absence from Rome on official duty) was ill-health. See de Am. § 8, where Cicero represents his own case in the person of Laelius. There is nothing to shew whether M. Appuleius was the senior augur, to whom the excuse was to be given, or a recently elected augur, at whose inauguration and accompanying banquet Cicero felt unable to attend. The excuse appears to have needed the attestation of three other augurs.

39 There are two men named Q. Cornificius, father and son, mentioned in the correspondence. The former was a candidate with Cicero for the consulship (vol. i., p. 13); the latter was now going as governor to Africa (see p.131).

40 I.e., to his province. Pansa had left Rome at the end of the previous year paludatus (p.193). Boot supposes that he stayed in some villa till March, which was the usual time of going to a province.

41 See p.199.

42 L. Marcius Philippus, step-father of Augustus. See p.313.

43 Cicero wished to build a shrine in honour of Tullia's memory. His first idea was to do this at Astura (p.206): but he soon changed to the plan of purchasing suburban horti.

44 This is the "return from Narbo," of which Cicero makes such large use in the second Philippic (§§ 76, 77). The "securities" were those given for the confiscated property which Antony had bought, especially that of Pompey, for which he had not paid.

45 Seven was the legal number.

46 Brother of his second wife.

47 If consecrated, the building would not change hands with a change of owners of the property.

48 In the second Philippic (§ 77) Cicero says that Antony's sudden and secret return from Narbo caused great alarm in Italy. Probably people thought that he had bad news from Spain, or orders from Caesar to take some strong measures.

49 Ad quos dies. Perhaps the plural may allude to the several stages his journey, stopping—as we have often seen Cicero doing—at one villa after another for the night. See Letter DCXXI (A XIII, 9).

50 As getting an allowance from his mother when her dower was refunded.

51 We know nothing of this Caepio. Boot quotes Seneca (Consol. ad Helviam, 16, 7) to show that Rutilia survived her son. C. Aurelius Cotta, consul B.C. 75, was a great orator. These antiquarian questions, as well as the whole tone of the letter, shew that Cicero was conquering his sorrow.

52 We cannot explain this, because we don't know the circumstances. The son of Cato Uticensis, still a minor, seems to have borrowed money through his guardian, payment of which was being claimed by Piso.

53 Apparently Terentia owed Balbus money; she proposed that Cicero's debt to her, on account of dowry, should be transferred to him.

54 I. e., in assigning the part of defending the Epicurean philosophy to some friend as a speaker in the de Finibus.

55 Reading accedit. But the MSS. have recedit, and many other emendations have been proposed. Faberius (Caesar's secretary) owed Cicero money, and was slow in paying.

56 Ovia it seems had to take a property at a valuation for her debt. See Letter DCXXXII (A XIII, 22), cp. p.93, note. Eros is Atticus a steward.

57 B.C. 155 Carneades the Academic, Diogenes the Stoic, and Critolaus the Peripatetic came to Rome to plead against the fine of 500 talents imposed on Athens for a raid upon Oropus.

58 We know nothing of the persons named. It seems to refer to some instances mentioned by Cicero in his Consolatio of a son (or daughter) of eminent qualities lost in the father's lifetime.

59 A learned grammarian of Cos, who was with Cicero in Cilicia (vol. ii., p.221).

60 As to the arrangements with Terentia for the repayment of her dowry.

61 Cicero thinks he will be forced to go to Rome to join in the complimentary reception of Brutus, customary on the return from a province. See vol. ii., p.234.

62 Publilius, brother of Cicero's second wife, was going to Africa. The question is whether he is going by the long sea voyage from Rome, or the overland route by Sicily.

63 The young son of Dolabella and Tullia, of whose birth see vol. ii., p.403. Dolabella had been adopted into the plebeian family of Lentulus in B.C. 49 in order to obtain the tribuneship. Hence his son's name.

64 Caesar's secretary—now in Spain—owed Cicero money.

65 This man's name was Q. Caecilius Epirota, a freedman of Atticus (taking his patron's adoptive name, see vol. i., p. i68). The scandal seems to have got abroad, see Suet. Gramm. 16. That Cicero should suggest such a thing to Atticus shews the extraordinary intimacy between them.

66 See p.222.

67 There is nothing to shew who this is. It may be the Hermogenes of Letter DCXXXVII.

68 By Publilius and his mother and sister. See p.225.

69 Some villa of Atticus's at Ficulea or Ficulnea, about ten miles from Rome on the Via Nomentana.

70 That is, the part of the property on which he would build the memorial fane to Tullia.

71 I leave this letter in the position it occupies in Tyrrell and Purser's work with great doubt. On the one hand, it seems very unlikely to have been written after Tullia's death; on the other, Cicero—who is careful in such matters-gives Caesar the title of imperator, with which his soldiers greeted him on the 19th of February. Mueller puts it close to Letter CXLII.

72 Il 22.304, quoted more than once before. See vol. ii., p.357.

73 Cicero may well have apologized for the style of letter. The accumulation of not very apt tags from Homer, the rather flippant allusion to his own conduct to Caesar, the familiar En, hic ille est, etc., all go to make up a letter very unlike even the most off-hand of Cicero's letters, though full of his usual phrases. It is not the sort of letter which one would expect to be written to the head of the state, and I should not be surprised if it was never sent.

The quotations from Homer are from Hom. 0d. 7.258; Hom. Od. 1.302; Hom. Od. 24.315; Hom. 51.22.304-5; Hom. 51.1.343; Hom. 51.11784.The line of Euripides is a fragment of some play not known.

74 There is nothing to shew where this letter was written, and only the allusion to the expectation of a decisive blow in Spain to put the time as late as March. Yet Cicero had begun speaking of expected news from Spain ever since January, and the absence of a reference to Tullia's death is an argument—though not quite decisive—of an earlier date. It does not much matter, however, as it represents Cicero's abiding view of the political situation, and is somewhat a relief in the rather monotonous lamentations for Tullia and plans for her memorial. C. Toranius was aedile with Octavius, father of Augustus, and one of the tutores of Augustus himself. He perished in the proscription of B.C. 43, betrayed by his son. Perhaps Augustus acquiesced in it because he had found him an unfaithful tutor. See Suet. Aug. 27; App. B.C. 4, 12, 18; Valer. Max. 9, II, 5; Nic. Damasc. Vit. Aug. 2.

75 Reading voluisse with the MSS. The noluisse adopted by some appears to me to misrepresent what Cicero always maintains, that his joining Pompey was right and his duty to the constitution, yet that his abandoning the Pompeians after Pharsalia was necessary for the safety of the state. He did not refuse to maintain his own safety.

76 During April Cicero seems to have been at or near Rome. See p. 227.

77 A lex Cornelia of the dictator Sulla regulated the expenses of funerals (Plut. Sull. 35). It may—though it is not known-have also limited the amount to be expended on monuments. The recent lex Iulia may also have contained some regulation on the subject.

78 By exempting it from following the proprietorship of the land. Such monuments had on them the letters H. M. N. S., "this monument does not go with (the land)"; or H. M. H. N. S., hoc monumentum heredem non sequitur, "does not belong to the heir." It was a regulation as old as the Twelve Tables, see de Leg. 2.61.

79 L. Roscius Otho, the proposer of the lex theatralis (see vol. i., p. 113). Scapula apparently had died in Spain (see p.241), and Otho was one of his heirs.

80 Gnaeus Pompeius was no favourite of Cicero's. He had threatened, indeed, to kill him, when he wished to quit the fleet after the battle of Pharsalia. He was killed by Didius (11 April) when landing to get water on his flight from Carteia after the battle of Thapsus.

81 His nephew, still calumniating him in Caesar's camp.

82 Founder of the Cynic School at Athens about B.C. 366. One of his many dialogues was called Cyrus.

83 That is, an answer to Cicero's Cato. Hirtius—under Caesar's direction-appears to have published an answer, which was meant to be a prologue to a fuller one by Caesar himself, which appeared afterwards in two books (Suet. Iul. 56).

84 Addressed to Caesar, on the resettlement of the constitution. Aristotle addressed a treatise to Alexander περὶ βασιλείας. Theopompus (b. B.C. 378) wrote among his orations (συμβουλευτικοὶ λόγοι) one addressed to Alexander on the state of his native Chios.

85 That is during April, in which there are no letters to Atticus. I do not think in hortis can refer to Astura. It is always used of a suburban residence or grounds.

86 I suggest non est solvendo for non est in eo (cp. Phil. 2.4). Others suggest non extimesco (Madvig), non timeo (Tyrrell and Purser). Taking solvendo, the reference would be to some (to us unknown) Lentulus who was said to be wishing to buy the horti Scapulani.

87 The recovery of his debt from Faberius. See p.223.

88 Reading (with Mueller) discesseras. The phrase is rather elaborate and fanciful, but so is the whole style of Lucceius throughout the letter.

89 Of Atticus being very busy. See p.242.

90 The text of this clause is very corrupt. I have translated the reading of Tyrrell and Purser.

91 That is, the property is too far from Rome, and would necessitate staying a night there. It could not be visited for a few hours.

92 From these and some similar expressions afterwards it has been inferred that Tullia died at Tusculum. From p. 181 it would seem to be more likely that it was at Rome.

93 We know nothing of Fulvinius: he must have been notorious for spreading false news. Philotimus was so also (see vol. ii., p. 384). Very characteristically the report was true in fact, though only half the truth. Gnaeus Pompeius was not invested at Carteia, for he escaped on board ship. But not long afterwards he was killed when landing to take in water. See p.240.

94 See p.240.

95 The Academica and the de Finibus. Or, as some think, the two books of the original edition of the Academica.

96 Vergilius was one of the co-heirs of Scapula.

97 Who was asking an unfair price. See p.249.

98 Though my establishment want to go to Rome.

99 See p. 251, note.

100 See p. 250.

101 See p. 223.

102 That is, a statue of Caesar in the temple of Quirinus on the Quirinal (Dio, 47, 45). The house of Atticus was on the Quirinal, near the temple of Salus. See vol. i., p.187 [A IV, 11].

103 See last letter.

104 See pp. 243, 250. The tract of Hirtius contained a complimentary reference to Cicero himself.

105 Cicero quotes the full description that this man gave of himself. He was apparently an impostor named Amatias or Herophilus (a veterinary surgeon), but he claimed to be a grandson of the great Marius, and therefore a relation of Caesar, whose aunt Iulia was wife of Marius. He met the young Octavius on his return after Munda, and begged him to acknowledge his relationship, but was cautiously though politely declined. After Caesar's assassination he again made a parade of his relationship by putting up the column raised to mark the spot in the forum where Caesar's body was burnt; this became the centre of much rioting, and Antony at length interfered and put the would-be Marius to death. See Letters DCCV, DCCVI, DCCVII; Nicolas Dam. vit. Caes. 14; Valer. Max. 1.15,.2; App. B.C. iii. 2, 3. Cicero would be his quasi-relation through his grandmother Gratidia, whose brother adopted the younger Marius, the impostor's supposed father. L. Cassius the orator had a daughter married to this same younger Marius, and therefore claimed by the impostor as his mother.

106 See vol. i., Introduction, p. xiv.

107 The same M. Curtius Postumus, whose expected augurship in B.C. 49 Cicero laughed at. See vol. ii.., p.287.

108 That is, the auction of Sextus Peducaeus. See pp. 255, 268

109 One of the heirs of Scapula. See pp.241, 252.

110 He means Oppius and Balbus.

111 That is, of some debts to himself. He was to assign them to Caerellia in payment of his debt to her. If we translate it "note of hand"—as though that would clear Cicero of his debt—we should be following the precedent of Mr. Micawber. The point of the quotation is that there is a great chance of Cicero not being able to get the debts to himself paid. For the word perscriptio see vol. i., p.301 (Att. 4.17).

112 A line from some unknown comedy, often quoted by Cicero.

113 The wife of P. Cornelius Lentulus Spinther was Caecilia Metella, who was believed to have intrigued with Dolabella (see p.44), and with Aesopus, son of the actor (Hor. Sat. ii. 3, 239).

114 Philosophy—in which the Greek terms would be difficult to represent in Latin.

115 Marcianus and Montanus of the previous letter, both at Athens with young Cicero.

116 Balbus and Oppius.

117 There is nothing to shew to what this refers; but the next letter shews that Atticus had had to tell Cicero that Oppius and Balbus did not approve of his letter to Caesar. Perhaps they thought it too didactic, and unbecoming in Cicero's position. He would be particularly sensitive on that point, as he had plumed himself on being able to offer political advice which might affect the situation. See pp.261, 262.

118 The Parthians were again threatening Syria, and Caesar seems to have let it be known that he wished to lead an army against them. He was, in fact, preparing to do so when he was assassinated.

119 κολακεία, a strong word. Speaking frankly to Atticus, Cicero makes no concealment of his real dislike of Caesar's policy and of his own unwilling submission to force majeure.

120 Their common nephew Quintus.

121 Alluding to Caesar's statue in the temple of Quirinus (see p.255), and to his bust being carried with those of the gods in the procession with which the ludi Circenses were opened (Suet. Iul. 76). See p. 310.

122 See p.85.

123 Of losing a hold upon Caesar's favour. This shews a decided change in the tone of Cicero's references to Caesar. The extraordinary honours voted to him after the news of Munda—among which was the life dictatorship—may account for this, as destroying all hope of a constitutional government.

124 Iuventius Thalna was perhaps a candidate for the hand of Atticus's daughter Attica (properly Caecilia), who eventually married Agrippa.

125 τὸν τῦφόν μου πρὸς θεῶν τροποφορήσων. The last word—of which the Latin morigerari is a translation-seems only to occur in Acts, 13.18.

126 The dowry of Tullia, which Dolabella owed after the divorce.

127 The debt of Faberius, Caesar's secretary, to Cicero, so often mentioned, see p.223, etc. There seems to have been some question as to a payment in gold-perhaps in foreign coin. See p.271.

128 The king of Cappadocia whom Cicero bad supported and saved in B.C. 51-50. See vol. ii. p.102. Sextus is Sextus Peducaeus.

129 A description of a descent into the cave of Trophonius in Boeotia.

130 A 1,000 iugera amount to 625 English acres; 11,500 sestertia to about £92,000. That gives about £147 per acre, which for property close to the city is not perhaps too much.

131 This may refer to some story of young Quintus. But we cannot be sure.

132 The younger Quintus Cicero was with Caesar in Spain. He appears to have written to his uncle Atticus, making the most of his adventures. His habit of romancing is again illustrated in Letter DCCL (Att. 15.21). Some editors put this paragraph (down to "today") at the end of Letter DCIII: but it seems no more in place there, and leaves this letter beginning with ei dedi, without anyone for ei to refer to.

133 He is referring to the ten commissioners sent out to settle the affairs of the towns of Achaia after the destruction of Corinth by Mummius, B.C. 146. They drew out constitutions for the several towns,

134 Literas (see vo1. i., p.34). "Torquatus" means the first book of the de Finibus, "Catulus" and "Lucullus" the first and second books of the Academica, in which they are the speakers.

135 B.C. 132.

136 For the ten commissioners in the Peloponnesus, see p.268. Cicero's difficulty is this. To be a commissioner in B.C. 146 a man must have been a senator, that is, he must at least have been quaestor in B.C. 147 (at latest). But if Tuditanus was quaestor in B.C. 147 and obtained the praetorship in his regular year (legitimo anno) he would be praetor in B.C. 139; whereas Tuditanus was not quaestor till B.C. 145 and praetor till B.C. 132, seven years late. The solution is given in Letter DCXII. It was a son who was quaestor in B.C. 145, praetor in B.C. 132. The commissioner was his father and had held his offices (not, however, the consulship) many years before, and therefore was eligible for the commissionership in B.C. 146.

137 B.C. 151.

138 The question is of certain debts due to Faberius, which he offers to assign to Cicero in payment of the money owed to him (see p.265). Cicero is satisfied with the list of names; but Atticus would rather have had one name, or at least fewer, and yet does not approve of the substitution of Caelius for all or some of them. Thereupon Cicero says that they had better make the best of the list as it stands.

139 The auction of the horti Scapulani which Cicero had contemplated buying for Tullia's shrine. He goes on to say that Atticus, no doubt, would have to be his security for the purchase-money till the debts above-mentioned were got in, but a corresponding time of grace can be obtained from the vendors, so that Atticus's guarantee would not be called upon, and the money would be paid out of his own pocket. This sense I think can be fairly got from the text as given by Tyrrell

140 From his province of Gallia Cisalpina. Mustela and Marcius Crispus were two of the co-heirs of Scapula.

141 See previous letter.

142 See p.265.

143 B.C. 142. L. Tubulus was accused of taking a bribe when presiding at a trial for murder (de Fin. 2, § 54).

144 B.C. 141.

145 B.C. 136.

146 B.C. 150 or 149. The crime of Servius Galba was the treacherous treatment of the Lusitani, whom he sold as slaves, though they had surrendered on promise of freedom. He was impeached by L. Scribonius Libo in B.C. 147 (according to Livy, Ep. 49), who was supported by one of the last speeches made by Cato the censor. See Brutus, § 89, where Cicero says that the Lusitani were killed.

147 Brutus, § 101.

148 This is the M. Marcellus, whose restoration by Caesar called out Cicero's senatorial speech pro Marcello. He had been consul with Sulpicius in B.C. 51. His assassination appears to have arisen from jealousy on the part of Cilo, who had not been recalled.

149 The conventus or assizes. Sulpicius had been appointed by Caesar to govern Greece. See p. 136.

150 Slaves of a murdered master were liable to be put to death.

151 Athens was a libera civitas, and had complete management of internal affairs. The Athenians had been rather Pompeian in sympathy, and were perhaps afraid to shew special favour now to a prominent member of the beaten party.

152 That is, in the grounds about a gymnasium.

153 B.C. 145. See ante, p.269.

154 See p.270.

155 See p.269.

156 That is, for the payment of the horti which Cicero wished to buy (the Scapulani). See p.270.

157 See p.271.

158 This seems to be the return of income (professio) required by the lex Iulia municipalis (B.C. 46). The first clause, as it is preserved, says that if a man is away from Rome, he must instruct his man of business or agent (quei eius negotia curabit) to make the return for him. See Bruns, Fontes Juris Romani, p.101.

159 Reading hodie in Capitoho. The MSS. have H. in Capitolio. It refers to the return or professio which, according to the law, § 15, had to be entered in the public records (in tabulas publicas referunda curato) which were kept in the record office, the tabularium, at the foot of the Capitol.

160 That is, for the horti Scapulani.

161 See p.266.

162 B.C. 146.

163 The praefecti accompanying a consul or proconsul in a province were officers of the cavalry, engineers, etc., as we have seen in vol. ii., p.170. For the confusion between the elder and younger Tuditanus, see p. 269.

164 Because not yet a senator.

165 In the Mithridatic war, to organize the province of Pontus and Bithynia (B.C. 68).

166 I. e., instead of undertaking the Parthian war.

167 The letter which was not sent, owing to the disapproval of Balbus and Oppius.

168 Tyrrell and Purser and Mueller arrange this paragraph as a separate letter, a day later than the previous part. But there does not seem sufficient reason for departing from the ordinary arrangement. Cicero often began a letter early in the day, and added a postscript later, when anything turned up.

169 Cicero had twice defended Dolabella (vol. ii., pp. 160-161).

170 An Epicurean philosopher (de Fin. 2.119).

171 The younger Quintus, who was with Caesar.

172 In urging Dolabella to stand his friend with Caesar. Aulus Manlius Torquatus, after Pompey's defeat, had been living in exile at Athens. He appears now to have been allowed to return. See p.235.

173 From Claudia, to marry Porcia.

174 I.e., for the marriage with Porcia, a daughter of Cato and widow of Bibulus, a marriage which seems to have caused much excitement among the remains of the Pompeian party.

175 Dolabella had been with Caesar in Spain, but had come home direct, whereas Caesar (according to Nicolas of Damascus, "Life of Augustus," c. 11-12) went with Octavius and others to Carthage to arrange for the settlement of his colony there.

176 From Tusculum to Arpinum is about sixty miles, and it would be a two days' journey, which may possibly account for the plural ad quos dies, which, however, Dr. Reid would change to quo die; but see p.207. Cicero was detained a considerable time at Arpinum.

177 Servius Sulpicius Rufus, consul B.C. 51. Atticus must have meant that Cicero was the sole surviving consular of the militant Pompeian party. For several ex-consuls were still surviving. See a list of such consulars dead by B.C. 44 in Phil. 2.12. But perhaps, after all, he used the expression with that kind of careless exaggeration apt to rise to the lips at a sudden shock, such as the news of the assassination of Marcellus, and Cicero takes it too literally.

178 About his marriage with Porcia.

179 οὐ ταὐτὸν εἶδος. Cicero, as usual, expects Atticus to fill up any well-known quotation. It is from Eur. Ion 585: “ Not the same look wear things when far removed
As when beneath our eyes and close at hand.

180 Why not? It may refer to the morning call or salutatio. Cicero even in the country was accustomed to receive many guests at it, and perhaps as a consularis it was not etiquette for him to go to levees of men of lower official rank, and Brutus had as yet held no curule office. We may remember that Juvenal notices it as a corruption of his period that a praetor is seen at such a levée. Visiting later in the day was not usual except by intimate friends, and Cicero, when he paid a visit to Pompey in the evening, thinks it necessary to offer an explanation (vol. i., p.223). He always seems to dislike the interruption of late visitors.

181 The mother of Brutus.

182 A money-lender.

183 Because the horti Scapulani were soon to be sold, and money would be wanted.

184 Delivered in B.C. 46 before Caesar at his house in defence of Q. Ligarius, accused of maiestas.

185 Callippides appears to have been someone who, like Mr. Pecksniff's horse, made a great show but did little; but whether he was an actor or a runner seems uncertain.

186 Hes. WD 347-348: “ From neighbour take full measure, and pay him back no lower,
Measure and all or better still, if thou but hast the power.

187 The first edition of the Academica was in two books, and the chief speakers were Catulus and Lucullus. It was afterwards arranged in four books, in which Varro takes the chief part in the dialogues. Antiochus of Ascalon was lecturing at Athens when Cicero was there in B.C. 79. He had also been a friend of Lucullus. His school is sometimes called the " Fifth Academy," approaching nearer to Stoicism and receding from the full scepticism of the New Academy.

188 That is, as Manutius explains, Cicero has been named magister auctionis by his co-heirs, i.e., he is to direct the realization and distribution of the estate.

189 For this second edition of the Academica, see last letter. Cicero cannot mean that he effected the change in one day. He must refer to an old letter of Atticus.

190 The first edition in two books, which Atticus's librarii had been copying.

191 I.e., public opinion, as often (see vol. i., p.90, etc.). He could not dedicate anything with a political tinge in it to Dolabella—a Caesarian—without being criticised by his own friends.

192 The Academica.

193 The Fibrenus and Liris (Horace's taciturnus amnis).

194 About the marriage with Porcia, which his mother Servilia—a close friend of Caesar—would probably oppose.

195 The reading is very doubtful (imperasses vellem igitur aliquid tuis). Klotz (Teubner text) has non quo imperassem tuis, which would mean, "not that I had given your messengers any orders." Mueller (the new Teubner text) imperassem igitur aliquid tuis. The MSS. have non imperassem.

196 Hermodorus, a pupil of Plato, was said to have made money in Sicily by selling his master's discourses, which he had taken down. Cicero, as usual, does not give the whole quotation: λόγοισιν Ἑρμόδωρος ἐμπορεύεται.

197 περὶ μικρὰ σπουδάζειν.

198 The Academica, second edition.

199 What all this refers to we cannot be sure. Possibly it is to a pro-posed husband for Attica, who eventually married the great minister of Augustus—M. Vipsanius Agrippa. But she was only about ten years old.

200 Reading Amo verecundiam, tu potius libertatem loquendi. The MS. reading vel potius, etc., might be explained if libertatem could mean "freedom from the constraint of double entendre," as if Cicero had meant "I like a modest and simple use of language without suggestiveness." But it is very difficult.

201 In the de Off. 1.127-128, Cicero attributes this to the Cynics or Stoics, who were almost Cynics, and expresses disapproval of it.

202 A comedy of Sextus Turpilius (died about B.C. 101). We have no clue to the context of the words, though the few fragments of the play (Ribbeck, p. 78) shew that a meretrix was an important character in it.

203 It is not known from what tragedies these scraps are taken (Ribbeck, Trg. fragm., p.217). Cicero quotes the first as from Accius in Orator 156.

204 The first syllable of culpam perhaps suggested culleus, the scrotum; illam dicam might produce laudica, the clitoris. But it is very far-fetched.

205 From the Greek βινεῖν.

206 The Matronalia, the feast of the matrons, when special respect was paid to women.

207 The modern Seville on the Guadalquivir.

208 It was proposed to divert the Tiber so as to include part of the Vatican district. See p.300.

209 Q. Aelius Tubero prosecuted Ligarius; we know nothing of his wife and step-daughter, or how it was proposed to bring them into the speech.

210 The Academica and the de Finibus. Cicero means that his philosophical studies are not merely theoretical—they affect his view of life and of the value of fame.

211 I.e., in the earlier part of his career, especially in the consulship.

212 See p.273.

213 Reading utraque. By adopting Onelli's in utraque, Brutus is made the nominative to pareat, and Porcia and Servilia are made to be jealous of each other's hold on the affections of Brutus. I think this too recondite, and that the passage has been misunderstood. Brutus

214 Like our "talk of the devil." But I don't know what the fable alluded to is.

215 I.e., to dinner.

216 Both German and French have equivalent expressions; but I do not know of any in English. I agree with Dr. Reid in referring this proverb to a remark of Atticus which Cicero remembered.

217 This scheme was never carried out, though both Dio (43, 58) and Aulus Gellius (13, 14) say that Caesar did enlarge the pomaerium.

218 The horti Scapulae which Cicero wanted to buy seem to be included in the new district that Caesar meant to make into a Campus Martius, and so Cicero would have been obliged to surrender them, probably at a loss. See p.296.

219 C. Furius Camillus. He was an authority on property law (vol. ii., p.237).

220 The day of the auction of Scapula's horti.

221 The Academica.

222 The de Finibus.

223 By the Iulian law, passed at the end of B.C. 49, mortgagers were not only allowed to satisfy their creditors by handing over property valued at the market price before the civil war, but were also authorized to deduct the amount of interest paid. It was only meant as a temporary measure to meet a temporary crisis, but Cicero says that of course his debtors will take advantage of it. For nosti domum Dr. Reid proposes nosti dominum: "You know their master (Caesar), like master, like man." Tyrrell explains: "You know the house "—-i.e., the house to be sold.

224 It seems a harsh thing of Cicero to look upon his son—though he had given him some trouble—as already unworthy to be his heir. Young Marcus was now at Athens, though he had wished to join Caesar's army in Spain. See p.144.

225 A well-known centurion and favourite of Caesar. Nothing is known of Polla, and Dr. Reid suggests Balbo—for Cicero has before suggested talking to Balbus on the debt due by Faberius. On the other hand, Cicero is putting forward these names as of men harsh and barely honest: while of Balbus he generally speaks respectfully. The reading of the paragraph is very doubtful, and probably there are several corruptions.

226 For Cicero's previous relations with Vatinius, see vol. i., pp. 219, 311, sq.

227 Of a supplicatio for successes in Illyricum.

228 The Vardaei or Ardiaei were a tribe living south of the Naro, on which Narona stands. They had been subdued in B.C. 135 by Fulvius Flaccus, but were probably imperfectly obedient (Livy, Ep. 56).

229 Cicero had asked Vatinius's predecessor, Sulpicius Rufus, to see after Dionysius in the previous year (see Letter DXXVIII, p. 172), but apparently had not written to Vatinius on the subject.

230 That is, apparently, into the interior; for Narona is in Dalmatia in one interpretation of the term.

231 I. e., public opinion, as often. See vol. i., p.90, etc.

232 In alteram aurem, a proverb for undisturbed sleep, and so a quiet mind. It is used by Terence (Haut. 342), Plautus (Pseud. i. I, 121), and Pliny (Ep. 4.29). It was a Greek proverb also: ἐπ᾽ ἀμφότερα τὰ ὦτα καθεύδειν (Pollux, 2.84). It is also French: dormir sur les deux oreilles. I don't know of any English equivalent, but there is the converse, "to sleep with one eye (or ear) open."

233 Varro had promised to dedicate some work to Cicero. See p.289.

234 The day of the auction of the horti Scapulani.

235 Homer, Il. 11.654.

236 Macrocolla, μακρόκολλα, was a particularly large and expensive kind either of paper or parchment. It was the size and shape, not the material, that gave the name. Cicero refers to it again in Att. 16.3.Pliny (N. H 13.80) says that it was a cubit broad. Cicero had had the "presentation copy" written on this expensive material.

237 Tiro's treatise on shorthand-notae Tironianae—survives.

238 The letter to Varro is that which precedes this one.

239 An Athenian—some architect employed to carry out Caesar's scheme for enlarging the city. See p.300.

240 Varro was the most learned man of the day, and his opinion was as important as a review in "The Times" for the success of a book. Still this extraordinary nervousness as to his being pleased or not seems a little exaggerated.

241 Of the auction, which had been fixed for the 15th.

242 The games of Apollo, which were on the 12th and following days of July.

243 The idea of Toranius apparently was to go somewhere to meet Caesar on his way from Spain. The "voyage without harbours" best suits the east coast of Italy, and it has been supposed that he meant to go to Ravenna, and thence cross the continent and meet Caesar somewhere in Gaul. As a matter of fact, Caesar did not come home that way.

244 The ludi Circenses (at the feast of Apollo) were opened by a pro-cession carrying the figures of the gods. Caesar's bust was carried on a tensa and fircula next to that of Victory. Cotta is L. Cotta, one of the quindecemviri, who, having with his colleagues the charge of the Sibylline books, was reported to have said that they contained an oracle declaring that the Parthians could only be conquered by a Roman king, and to have expressed an intention of proposing that Caesar should have that title (Suet. Iul. 76-79). L. Cotta was consul in B.C. 65. See de Divin. 2.110, ante, p.263.

245 These are books, which Cicero apparently wanted for reference in writing his treatise to Caesar, which, however, was never written. L. Scribonius Libo wrote annals (p.268); the others are not known.

246 These were Atticus's librarii. The mistake still remains in the text (pro Lig. § 33).

247 In regard to his divorce of his second wife Publilia.

248 Terence, Andr. 185.

249 See p. 308. "I have written to say that the postponement of the auction will postpone my arrival for two days, but I shall come now unless you say that it is postponed again."

250 Near Mount Petrinum, close to Sinuessa.

251 The games Caesar meant to give upon his triumph. Lepta wished to take the contract for the supply of wine. He had been Cicero's praefectus fabrum in Cilicia (vol. ii., p. 118).

252 To secure Caesar's favour.

253 L. Marcius Philippus, step-father of Augustus. He calls him in jest the "son of Amyntas," the name of the father of Philip king of Macedonia. See pp.202, 203.

254 A story is told by Plutarch (Cat. min. 2) of how, at the beginning of the Marsic or Social War, Pompaedius Silo, staying in the house of Cato's uncle Drusus, suggested to the boy that he should ask his uncle to side with the allies, and when he refused, picked him up and, holding him out of the window, threatened to drop him down if he didn't. But the boy held out. As Cato was just four years old then (b. B.C. 95) this is probably the story, and the book alluded to Cicero's Cato, published in B.C. 46, of which the librarii would be making fresh copies. Schmidt, however, reads de quadrivio Catonis, and refers it to Cato's exposition of the Stoic philosophy in the de Finibus.

255 Tertia was sister of Brutus and wife of Cassius. Who Publius was and why she objected to meet him we cannot tell. Dolabella is suggested.

256 Demetrius is unknown, except from these letters to Tiro, but it is likely that Cicero found him tiresome. He is not, he says, quite a "Demetrius of Phalerum," i.e., the philosophic and eloquent governor of Athens in the later Macedonian period (B.C. 317-307). Billienus was the slave of this or another Demetrius: he murdered a certain Domitius at Ventimiglia, which led to an outbreak which Caelius (B.C. 49) was sent by Caesar to quiet (see vol. ii., p.299). There is also a Demetrius, a freedman of Pompey (vol. i., p.253), who may be the Demetrius meant. Why Cicero should say that Demetrius has become a Billienus is not clear. Some have suggested a pun on bilis, as though he were ill-tempered.

257 The house of Atticus was on the Collis Quirinalis, that of Cicero on the Mons Palatinus. So Cicero talks of "the hill" in referring to Atticus's house, as people living, e.g., in Grosvenor Place speak of those living "in the Square," i.e., in Grosvenor Square.

258 That is, about effecting his recall. See p.235.

259 The question is as to the right Latin equivalent for ἐπέχειν and ἐποχή, the technical terms of the Academies for "suspension of judgment" in consequence of the impossibility of arriving at scientific certainty.

260 It is not easy to see in what Tiro's solecism consists. It is suggested that fideliter must refer to duty to another, but that is probably what Tiro meant—"he took care of his health as in duty bound to Cicero." But fideliter"thoroughly," "conscientiously"—may at any rate be defended by Ovid's didicisse fideliter artes. Of course Tiro might have said diligenter, but Cicero seems to me to have been hypercritical.

261 M. Aemilius Lepidus was "Master of the Horse," and as such was next in rank to Caesar the dictator. In this year Caesar was sole consul for several months, but afterwards had three colleagues one after the other.

262 Demetrius (see p.317) seems not to have been satisfied with Cicero's reception of him.

263 Reading neutiquam. The MSS. have antequam, and Mueller reads non antequam, "not till it is necessary."

264 Porcia, sister of Cato Uticensis, was wife of L. Domitius Aheno- barbus (who fell at Pharsalia) and mother of Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus, who was afterwards implicated in the plot against Caesar, and played a considerable part in the later civil wars. She was aunt to Brutus's wife Porcia. Therefore Cicero expects a copy of his laudatio to be sent to Brutus as well as to Porcia's son.

265 Apparently because they were so bad.

266 The younger Quintus, who was in Caesar's army in Spain.

267 This all refers to the will of Cluvius of Puteoli (see p. 328). Cicero, Caesar, and Offilius are among the joint heirs. Balbus is acting for Caesar, and the question is as to selling the estate and dividing it in the due proportions.

268 The younger Quintus Cicero.

269 A fragment of Pindar of four lines: “ po´τερον di´κᾳ τεῖχος ὕψιον
σκολιαῖς ἀπάtais ἀναβαίνει
ἐπιχθόνιον ge/nos ἀνδρῶν,
di´χα μοι νόos ἀτρέκειαν ei᾿πεῖν.
” “Whether it is by justice that the race of men upon the earth mount a lofty wall or by crooked wiles, my mind is divided in pronouncing the truth.”

270 "By Quintus (junior) coming to see me at Tusculum."

271 Cicero thinks he must meet Caesar at Rome or perhaps on his road to Rome. But at Astura he would be out of the way of doing so, if Caesar suddenly appeared by sea at Ostia or from the north.

272 An Athenian Epicurean philosopher, whose lectures Cicero had himself attended (de Fin. 1.16; see vol. ii., p.28). Cicero used his work largely in the de Natura Deorum, on which he is now engaged. A fragment believed to be part of the treatise of Phaedrus περὶ θεῶν was found at Herculaneum.

273 The title of the second book mentioned is unintelligible in the MSS. περὶ Παλλαδος, Ἑλλάδος, Ἀπολλοδώρου have been proposed by various editors.

274 The boni are all killed in the several battles of the civil war. Caesar must go to the other world to find them.

275 The "Parthenon " is a library or other room in the house of Brutus. Thus Atticus had such a room which he called Amaltheium (vol. i., p. 44), and Cicero an Academeia (vol. i., p.12), and Augustus one which he called Syracusae (Suet. Aug. 72). Atticus's chef-d'oeuvre was a pedigree of the Iunian family, "which he made at the request of Brutus, from its origin to the present day, noting the birth of each man and the offices he had held " (Nepos, Att. 18). It enumerated among the ancestors Iunius Brutus, the expeller of the Tarquins, and C. Servilius Ahala, who killed Sp. Maelius for an alleged attempt at tyranny (Phil. 2.26). This was one of the ways in which Atticus—who dabbled in ancient history and antiquities-gratified his great friends. Cicero means, "if Brutus submits to Caesar, what is the use of his descent from these tyrannicides?" We may remember how this was used next year by the authors of libels (App. B.C. 2.112).

276 Hirtius, who had apparently induced young Quintus to join Caesar. See vol. ii., pp. 366, 375.

277 Probably Saxa Rubra, the first stage on the via Flaminia (Phil. 2.77), about ten miles from Rome. Quintus was coming home from Spain by way of Gaul.

278 σκολίαις ἀπάταις. See p.322.

279 As to Quintus marrying Cana, a daughter of Q. Gellius Canus.

280 Nisi quid a te commeat vesperi. But the MS. reading, retained by Mueller, is nisi quid a te commeatus, "unless I get leave of absence from you," i.e., "unless you send some letter which would permit of my not coming to Rome yet." Dr. Reid would omit it altogether.

281 L. Aelius Lamia was an aedile this year, and stood for the praetorship in B.C. 43.

282 The ludi Romami lasted from 15th to 19th of September.

283 By the postponement of the auction. See p.321.

284 Currentem tu quidem. See vol. ii., p. 181.

285 See pp. 280, 296, 328.

286 On the business connected with his share in the property of Cluvius. See p.328.

287 A banker at Puteoli (vol. ii., p.150, etc.).

288 De vini curatione, a contract for supplying wine at the games. Others, however, read de munerum curatione, "contracting for the gladiatorial show." See p.312.

289 See pp. 296, 326.

290 Atticus appears to have urged Cicero to write something of the nature of the letter before condemned to present to Caesar. Cicero says that he at once laid aside the philosophical treatise on which he was engaged (de Natura Deorum), and drew up a first sketch of such a document. The words are from some unknown poet.

291 Pollex had come from Puteoli, but had not brought full information (p.327). He is to be sent back to convey Cicero's formal authorization to Vestorius.

292 He expects Dolabella to instruct him how to behave to Caesar, as he had before instructed him in tbe art of dining.

293 The Sardinian singer whose affectations are described by Horace, Sat. i. 2, 3, sq.

294 Cipius was a complaisant husband who feigned sleep for the benefit of his wife and her lover, but woke when a slave began stealing the silver.

295 That is, in his consulship, especially in the Catiline affair.

296 Sardinia, notoriously unhealthy (vol. i., p.217).

297 C. Licinius Calvus (b. B.C. 84) wrote satiric scazons-verses on the model of Hipponax of Chios (fl. in c. B.C. 540). Addictum means "knocked down at a price"; praeconio means the "puffing" or "appraising" of the auctioneer (praeco).

298 This is not the trial in which Cicero's extant speech for Sestius was delivered (B.C. 56), but a prosecution for bribery under Pompey's law of B.C. 52. As Phamea died in B.C. 49 (see vol. ii., p.332), and Cicero was absent in Cilicia from May, B.C. 51, this trial must have been in the autumn of B.C. 52 or the spring of B.C. 51.

299 Reading cantorem for unctorem. As Tigellius was a favourite of Caesar and other great men, his grandfather expected Cicero to support him.

300 I. e., worthless fellows. The explanation of this proverbial expression is given by Victor (de Vir 101.65), who says that the consul C. Sempronius Gracchus (B.C. 177) took such an enormous number of captives in the war against the rebel Sardinians (B.C. 181-177) that they became a drug in the slave market.

301 The reading is doubtful. See p.329.

302 The Caesarians.

303 Cicero, as one of the heirs of Brinnius, was to join in a sale of the estate to Hetereius. To do that, without having the trouble of going to Puteoli personally, he was to convey it formally to a slave of the banker Vestorius sent for that purpose. It thus became the property of Vestorius himself, as the slave's master: and he then could convey it to Hetereius.

304 To meet Caesar. For Alsium, see p.86.

305 A "laugh on the wrong side of my mouth," from a herb found in Sardinia which was said to contort the features with a grin of pain.

306 Keeping the MS. word catomum, said to refer to the hoisting of boys on a man's shoulders to be flogged, as in the well-known picture from Pompeii (κατ᾽ ὤμων). Others read catonium, explaining it to mean the "world below" (κάτω), "Hades." The "master" is, of course, Caesar; and the metaphor of a school is kept by manus de tabula, (perhaps) "No more scribbling-here comes the schoolmaster," i.e., we had better stop writing "Catos" now Caesar is back home.

307 In the de Orat. 33, he says, "the pen, the best producer and master of eloquence." See Quint. Inst. Orat. 10.3.1-4.

308 The text is corrupt—ne ridicule micillus. What word or words are concealed under micillus has puzzled everyone, and many suggestions have been made. I have translated it as though it were nimis blandus; but I do not profess to think that solution more likely than many others, or even as much so. After blandus we must understand viderer by a fairly easy ellipse.

309 Caesar's Anti-Cato.

310 The younger Quintus Cicero.

311 Q Caecilius Bassus (quaestor B.C. 59) fought on Pompey's side at Pharsalia, whence he escaped to Tyre. He managed to win over some of the army of the propraetor of Syria, Sext. Iulius Caesar; and, taking advantage of rumours in B.C. 46 of Caesar being defeated in Africa, he caused Sext. Iulius to be assassinated and took over the government of Syria. He fortified Apamea, and there repulsed Antistius Vetus and Statius Murcus, who were successively sent against him, and had dealings with the Parthians. Though Murcus was reinforced by Crispus, governor of Bithynia, Bassus held out till Cassius arrived in B.C. 43, to whom he surrendered and was allowed to go away unharmed.

312 T. Munatius Plancus Bursa, tribune in B.C. 52. An adherent of Publius Clodius, and principally responsible for the burning of the Curia when Clodius's body was burnt. He had been condemed for vis, and seeing him at the games Cicero knew that he had been recalled by Caesar. See vol. i., p. 365.

313 Decimus Laberius and Publilius Syrus were writers of minies (vol. i., p. 345; ad Att. 14.2). It is said that Caesar, who employed them in these games, taunted Laberius with being surpassed by the improvisations of the foreigner Syrus. A number of sententiae or sententious verses are extant under the name of Syrus, and a fragment of his on luxury is preserved by Petronius Arbiter, § 55. Laberius died at Puteoli in B.C. 43. They doubtless on this occasion introduced flatteries of Caesar.

314 There is a touch of malice in this suggestion. Cicero jeers at the over-caution of Bibulus elsewhere. See vol. ii., pp.199, 217.

315 There is really nothing to decide the exact date of these two letters to Orca. The land commission referred to was established in the previous year (B.C. 46), and the letters may possibly belong to that year.

316 This was Orca's title as head of the land commission; he was "legate (i.e., of Caesar) with rank of praetor." For Caesar's use of public land for his veterans at this time, see Suet. Iul. 38.

317 The circumstances were these. Volaterrae had taken the side of Marius against Sulla, and offered a refuge to many of the defeated party. Owing to the advantages of its position, it had held out against a two years' siege by Sulla (B.C. 81-80, Strabo, 5, 2, 6; Livy, Ep. 89; Cic. pro Sext. Am. § 20). Sulla therefore carried a law disfranchising it and declaring its lands forfeited (pro Caec. § 18, 104); but for some reason the lands thus made "public" were never divided among new owners (vol. i., p.54; Att. 1.19). Attempts were, however, made by various land reformers to deal with the territory as public land. Cicero here says that he successfully resisted one of these in B.C. 63, and that in Caesar's lex agraria of B.C. 59 it was specially exempted, and the full citizenship of the Volaterrani acknowledged.

318 Possessio, a term properly applied to the holding of ager publicus; it was short of dominium, "absolute ownership."

319 That is, with proper social distinction. It seems certain that at this time there was no legal qualification as to property necessary for a senator.

320 That is, Caesar has commissioned him to divide certain lands, not to decide which are to be divided.

321 Cicero's runaway slave. See p.172.

322 Curius uses legal terms connected with the ownership of land-first in Greek and then in Latin. Usus (χρῆσις) is the holding of property of which the ownership belongs to another; dominium (κτῆσις) is full ownership; fructus or usus fructus is the right to the profit of the property which the man who has usus takes; mancipium is (1) property acquired by mancipatio, (2) the full ownership of such property.

323 A proverb for one who "blows hot and cold," who "sits on the hedge, or who tries "to serve two masters."

324 The text of this sentence is doubtful.

325 The Saturnalia began on the 17th of December.

326 We have no means of knowing what Caesar was told of Mamurra—his death, some think. Hardly the epigram of Catullus (57), as others have suggested (see Suet. Iul. 73). Mamurra was one of his agents whom Caesar had enriched (vol. ii., p.228).

327 This use of emetics—no doubt often abused-took at this time somewhat the place in medical treatment that bleeding did a hundred years ago. Caesar seems to have frequently submitted to it. See pro Deiot. § 21.

328 Verses of Lucilius.

329 This was apparently a sort of salute of honour to Dolabella, who was at this time irritated about the consulship for B.C. 44. Caesar had, it seems, promised it him, but now meant to take the first three months of it himself (Phil. 2.79). See the next letter.

330 Apparently native cloths or textures sent as presents to his friends at Rome.

331 Cicero means to refer to Antony, who had opposed Dolabella's consulship, for which Dolabella inveighed against him in the senate on the next Kalends of January. See the passage of the second Philippic quoted in the note to the previous letter.

332 Cicero's nephew Quintus.

333 Quintus is going with Caesar to the wars against the Getae and the Parthians. He seems to call the journey dishonourable to himself, not on its own account, but because of his motive in undertaking the service, i.e., to avoid his creditors.

334 Atticus.

335 Probably that of Felicitas (Dio, 45, 5).

336 μὴ σκόρδου (Tyrrell and Purser's brilliant emendation of the unintelligible word in the MSS.), lit. "No garlic!" Garlic was supposed to make people pugnacious, and is often mentioned in Aristophanes as used for feeding fighting-cocks: Eq. 494, 946; Acharn. 166; Pax, 502; Lys. 690. So Lucian in his Vera Historia (i. 13) names one of his imaginary people σκοροδομάχοι, "garlic fighters."

337 This seems to have no reference which we can now hope to explain. Tiro had apparently objected to some phrase in a writing of Cicero's, partly at any rate on grammatical grounds.

338 These words are given in Greek, as medical terms usually were.

339 It is impossible to be sure of the state of things to which allusion is made. Tiro seems to have complained that the gardener Helico at Tusculum wasn't doing well. Cicero says, "Get Parhedrus to take it-supplying what is wanted in the house as part rent—he will keep the workman up to his work. Helico is a great rascal not to do better by the garden, for he has had it at a small rent, never raised in spite of all the improvements which I have made. Parhedrus will pay more, and also be more satisfactory."

340 Perhaps Motho is the town gardener—as we know there was a garden at Cicero's town house. A supply of flowers there would be specially needed for parties, festivals, etc.

341 Reading itaque abundo coronis.

342 The Crabra was the name of the conduit supplying Tusculum with water, for which Cicero paid a rate to the municipality (Leg. Agr. 3.8).

343 Vol. i., p.331; supra, p.24.

344 The physician.

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