These letters were sent between March 58 B.C. and February 57 B.C.
The translation is by E.O. Winstedt (1919). Click on the L symbols to go to the Latin text of each section. Click on ** to go to the translator's footnotes.
CONTENTS: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
← Book 2
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I had been thinking that it would be of the greatest service to me to have you with me, but when I read the bill, ** I saw at once that the most desirable thing in view of the journey I have undertaken would be that you should join me as soon as possible. Then I should have the benefit of your own and your friends' protection, if I passed through Epirus, after leaving Italy; and, if I chose any other course, I could lay down fixed plans on your advice. So please be quick and join me. You can do so more easily now that the bill about the province of Macedonia has been passed. I would say more, if facts themselves did not speak for me with you.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
The reason why I moved was that there was nowhere where I could remain unmolested except on Sicca's estate, ** especially as the bill has not been emended. Besides I realised that I could get back to Brundisium from there, if I had you with me. Without you I could not stay in those districts on account of Autronius. Now, as I said in my last letter, if you will come, I can take your advice on the whole matter. I know the journey is an annoyance: but the whole of this miserable business is full of annoyances. I can't write any more, I am so down-hearted and wretched. Take care of yourself.
April 8, Nares in Lucania.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I hope that the day may come when I shall be able to thank you for compelling me to go on living. At present I am heartily sorry for it. Please come to me at once at Vibo. For several reasons I've made my way to there. If you come, I shall be able to lay plans for my whole journey in exile. If you do not, I shall be surprised: but I trust you will.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
Please attribute my sudden departure from Vibo after asking you to join me there to my misery rather than to caprice. I received a copy of the bill for my ruin, and found that the amendment of which I had heard, took the form of banishment beyond four hundred miles. Since I could not go where I wished, I went straight to Brundisium before the bill was passed; for fear of involving my host Sicca in my ruin and because I am not permitted to stay in Malta. Now make haste and join me; if I can find anyone to take me in. At present I receive kind invitations: but I fear the future. Indeed, Pomponius, I am heartily sick of life: and it is mainly for your sake that I consented to live. But of this when we meet. Please do come.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
Terentia continually expresses the deepest gratitude to you: and I am very glad of it. My life is one long misery and I am crushed with the weight of my sorrows. What to write I don't know. If you are in Rome, you will be too late to catch me: but, if you are already on the way, we will discuss all that has to be discussed, when you join me. One thing only I beg of you, since you have always loved me for myself, to preserve your affection for me. I am still the same. My enemies have robbed me of all I had; but they have not robbed me of myself. Take care of your health.
At Thurium, April 10.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I quite expected to see you at Tarentum or Brundisium, and it was important that I should for many reasons, among others for my stay in Epirus and for the advantage of your advice in other matters. That it did not happen I shall count among my many other misfortunes. I am starting for Asia, for Cyzicus in particular. I entrust my dear ones to you. It is with difficulty that I prolong my miserable existence.
From the neighbourhood of Tarentum, April 17.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I arrived at Brundisium on April 17, and on the same day your men delivered a letter from you. The next day but one some others brought me another letter. I am very grateful for your kind invitation to stay at your place in Epirus, though I expected it. It is a plan, which would have just suited me, if I could have stayed there all the time. I hate a crowd, I shun my fellow-men, I can hardly bear to look upon the light: so the solitude there, especially as I am so at home there, would have been far from unpleasant. But for stopping on the route it is too far out of the way: moreover I should be only four days' journey from Autronius and the rest, moreover you would not be there yourself. Yes, a fortified place would be useful to me if I were settling there, but it is unnecessary, when I am merely passing. If I dared, I should make for Athens; and things were turning out right for it: but now my enemies are there, you have not joined me, and I am afraid that town too may not be counted far enough away from Italy. Nor have you let me know when I may expect you.
2 Your pleas to me not to think of suicide have one result that I refrain from laying violent hands on myself; but you cannot make me cease to regret our decision and my existence. What is there for me to live for, especially if I have lost even that hope I had when I set out? I will forbear to mention all the miseries into which I have fallen through the villainous machinations not so much of my enemies, as of those who envy me, for fear of arousing my grief again, and provoking you to share it by sympathy. But this I will say, that no one has ever suffered such a misfortune, and no one ever had more right to wish for death. But I have missed the opportunity when I could have died with honour. At any other time death will only end my pain, not heal it. 3 I notice you collect everything which you think can raise any hopes in me of a change in affairs. That "everything" is very little: still, since you so decide, I will await the issue. Though you have not started, you will catch me yet, if you hurry. I shall either go to Epirus, or proceed slowly through Candavia. My hesitation about Epirus does not arise from my changefulness, but from doubts as to where I shall see my brother. ** I don't know where I shall see him, nor how I shall tear myself from him. That is the chief and most pitiful of all my miseries. I would write to you more often and fully, if grief had not robbed me of all my wits and especially of that particular faculty. I long to see you. Take care of yourself.
At Brundisium, April 29.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
As I was setting out from Brundisium, I wrote to you, explaining why I could not go to Epirus, because it is close to Achaia which is full of my most virulent enemies, and it is a hard place to get out of, when I want to start. My decision was confirmed by the receipt of two messages at Dyrrachium, one saying that my brother was coming by sea from Ephesus to Athens, the other that he was coming by land through Macedonia. So I sent a note to catch him at Athens, asking him to come on to Thessalonica, and I myself set off and arrived at Thessalonica on the 23rd of May. The only certain news about him, that I have had, is that he started a short time ago from Ephesus. 2 Now I am in great anxiety to know what is happening at Rome. It is true that in one letter dated May 15 you say you have heard that Quintus will be rigorously prosecuted, and in another that things are calming down: but the latter is dated a day before the former, to increase my perplexity. So, what between my own personal grief, which racks and tortures me daily, and this additional anxiety, I have hardly any life left in me. But the passage was very bad and perhaps, not knowing where I was, he took some other direction. My freedman Phaetho has seen nothing of him. Phaetho was driven back by wind from Ilium to Macedonia and came to me at Pella. I see how threatening the future is, though I have not the heart to write. I am afraid of everything: there is no misfortune that does not seem to fall to my lot. I am still staying in suspense at Thessalonica, with this new fear added to the woes and sorrows that oppress me; and I do not dare to make a move of any kind.
3 Now for the things you mention in your letter. Caecilius Trypho I have not seen. Of your talk with Pompey I have heard from your letter. I cannot see such signs of a political change as you either see or invent to comfort me: for, if they take no notice of the Tigranes episode, ** all hope is lost. You bid me pay my thanks to Varro. I will, and to Hypsaeus too. I think I will follow your advice not to go any further away, until I receive the Acta for May. But where to stop I have not yet made up my mind; and I am so anxious about Quintus, that I can't decide anything. But I will soon let you know.
4 From these rambling notes of mine, you can see the perturbed state of my wits. Yet, though I have been crushed by an incredible and unparalleled misfortune, it is not so much my misery as the remembrance of my own mistake that affects me. For now surely you see whose treachery egged me on and betrayed me. ** Would to heaven you had seen it before, and had not let a mistake dominate your mind as I did. So when you hear that I am crushed and overwhelmed with grief, be assured that the sense of my folly in trusting one, whose treachery I had not suspected, is a heavier penalty than all the consequences. The thought of my misfortunes and my fears for my brother prevent me from writing. Keep your eye on events and your hand at the helm. Terentia expresses the deepest gratitude to you. I have sent you a copy of the letter I wrote to Pompey.
At Thessalonica, May 29.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
My brother Quintus left Asia at the end of April and reached Athens on May the 15th: and he had to hurry, for fear anything disastrous might happen in his absence, ** if there were anyone who was not yet contented with the measure of our woes. So I preferred him to hurry on to Rome rather than to come to me: and besides - I will confess the truth and it will show you the depth of my misery - I could not bear in my great distress to look on one so devoted to me and so tender-hearted, nor could I thrust upon him the misery of my affliction and my fallen fortune, or suffer him to see me. Besides I was afraid of what would have been sure to happen - that he would not be able to part from me. The picture of the moment when he would have had to dismiss his lictors or to be torn by force from my arms was ever before me. The bitterness of parting I have avoided by the bitterness of not seeing my brother.
That is the kind of dilemma into which you who are responsible for my survival have forced me; and so I have to pay the penalty for my mistake. 2 Your letter however cheers me, though I can easily see from it how little hope you have yourself. Still it offered some little consolation till you passed from your mention of Pompey to the passage: "Now try to win over Hortensius and such people." In heaven's name, my dear Pomponius, have you not yet grasped, whose agency, whose villainy and whose treachery have ruined me? But that I will discuss when I meet you. Now I will only say, what you must surely know, that it is not so much my enemies as my enviers who have ruined me. If there is any real foundation for your hopes, I will bear up and rely on the hope you suggest. But if, as seems probable to me, your hopes are ill-founded, then I will do now what you would not let me do before, though the time is far less appropriate.
3 Terentia often expresses her gratitude to you. The thing I most fear among all my misfortunes is my poor brother's business: if I knew the exact state of affairs, I might know what to do about it. I am following your advice and still staying at Thessalonica in hope of the advantages you mention and of some letters. When I get some news, I shall be able to shape my course of action. If you started from Rome on the first of June, as you say, I shall very soon see you. I have sent you the letter I wrote to Pompey.
Thessalonica, 13 June.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
Your letter has informed me of political news to May 25: and I am awaiting the course of events at Thessalonica, as you suggest. When I hear more, I shall know where to be. For if there is any excuse, if anything is being done, if I see a ray of hope, I shall either wait here or pay you a visit: but if, as you say in your letter, those hopes have vanished into air I shall look for something else. At present you do not give me the least hint of anything except the disagreement of those friends of yours: and they are quarrelling about anything rather than me, so I do not see what good it will do me. But, as long as you wish me to hope, I will bow to your wishes.
2 You frequently reproach me strongly for faint-heartedness: but I should like to know if I have been spared any hardship in my misfortune. Did anyone ever fall from such a high estate in such a good cause, especially when he was so well endowed with genius and good sense, so popular and so strongly supported by all good men? Can I forget what I was? Can I help feeling what I am? Can I help missing my honour and fame, my children, my fortune and my brother? That is a fresh misfortune for you to contemplate. I have avoided seeing my brother, though I love him and always have loved him better than myself, for fear that I should see him in his grief and misery, or that I, from whom he had parted in the height of prosperity, should present myself to him in ruin and humiliation. Of other things too hard to bear, I will say nothing: my tears prevent me. And what pray is it that calls for reproof? My grief, or my sin in not retaining my position, - which would have been easy enough, if there had not been a conspiracy for my ruin within my own walls, - or that I should not have lost it without losing life too?
3 My object in wanting thus is to call for your ready sympathy, instead of seeming to deserve your reproaches and reproofs, and the reason why I write less than usual is partly that my sorrow prevents me, and partly that I have more reason to expect news from you than to write to you. When I get your news, I will give you a clearer idea of my plans. Please continue to write fully about things as you have at present, that no detail may escape me.
Thessalonica, 17 June.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
At present I am kept at Thessalonica by your letter and by some good news, which however has not the best authority. Besides I am waiting for your note, and you expressed your desire that I should stay here. As soon as I receive the note I am waiting for, I will come to you, if the hope, which has reached me by rumour, is confirmed. If not, I will let you know my movements. 2 Please continue to exert your energy, your wits and your influence on my behalf. I don't ask for encouragement: but please don't find fault with me; for when you do that, I feel as though I had lost your affection and your sympathy, though I am sure you take my misfortune so to heart, that you yourself are inconsolable. Lend a helping hand to Quintus, the best and kindest of brothers, and for mercy's sake let me have all the definite news there is.
June 27.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
You lay great stress on the hopes I may entertain, especially of action on the part of the Senate; yet at the same time you write that a clause has been proposed forbidding any mention of my case in the senate. So no one opens his mouth. Then you accuse me of distressing myself, though, as you know quite well, I have more reason for distress than ever mortal had. You hold out hopes to me on the results of the elections. What hope is there, if the same tribune is re-elected and a consul elect is my enemy? **
2 Your news too that my speech has been published is a blow to me. =/8= Heal the wound, if possible, as you propose. In my indignation I paid him back in his own coin: but I had suppressed it so carefully, that I thought it would never leak out. How it has, I can't imagine. But since it so happens that I have never said a word against him, and this appears to me to be more carelessly written than my other speeches, I should think it could be passed off as some one else's work. If you think my case is not hopeless, please give your attention to the matter; but if I am past praying for, then I don't much mind about it.
3 I am still lying dormant at the same place, and neither speak nor think. Though, as you say, I did suggest that you should come to me, I see now that you are useful to me where you are, while here you could not find even a word of comfort to lighten my sorrows. I cannot write more, nor have I anything to say. Therefore, I am all the more anxious for your news.
Thessalonica, July 17.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I changed my mind about the proposed journey to Epirus when I saw my hope growing less and less and finally vanishing, and have not moved from Thessalonica, where I proposed to stay till you should send me some news of what you mentioned on Pompey's authority in your last letter, that my case might come before the senate after the elections. And so, now the elections are over and I get no news from you, I shall take that as equivalent to your writing and saying that nothing has come of it, nor shall I regret that the hope which buoyed me up has not lasted long. As for the movement that appeared to be in my favour, which you said you foresaw, new arrivals here assure me that it won't come off. The only hope left is in the tribunes elect: and if I wait till that is settled, you will have no right to regard me as a traitor to my own cause and to my friends' wishes.
2 Instead of blaming me so often for taking my troubles so seriously, you ought to pardon me, as you see that my afflictions surpass all that you have ever seen or heard of. You say you have heard that my mind is becoming unhinged with grief: my mind is sound enough. Would that it had been as sound in the hour of danger, when I found those my cruelest enemies who I thought had my salvation most at heart. As soon as they saw I had lost my balance a little through fear, they used all their malice and treachery to thrust me to my doom. Now that I have to go to Cyzicus, where your letters will reach me less frequently, please be all the more careful to give me a thorough account of everything you think I ought to know. Be a good friend to my brother Quintus, for, if I leave him unharmed by my fall, I shall not regard myself as utterly overwhelmed.
August 5.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
Your letter has filled me with hopes of Pompey's intentions or professed intentions as regards me. For I think the elections have been held, and it is when they are over you say he has decided to have my affair brought forward. If you think me foolish for hoping, I only do what you bid me to do, and I know your letters generally are more inclined to restrain me and my hopes than to encourage them. Now please tell me plainly and fully what you see. I know it is through many faults of my own that I have fallen into this misery: and if fate mends my faults even partially, I shall be less disgusted both with my past and my present existence.
2 The amount of traffic on the roads and the daily expectation of a change of government have prevented me from leaving Thessalonica at present. But now I am forced to quit, not by Plancius - who wants me to stop - but by the nature of the place, which is not at all suitable to help one to bear such distress and misfortune. I did not go to Epirus as I said I should, since all the news and all the letters that have reached me lately have shown me that there was no necessity to remain very near Italy. If I get any important news from the scene of the elections, I shall betake myself to Asia, when I leave here. Where exactly, is not yet fixed: but I will let you know.
Thessalonica, July 21.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
On August 13 I received four letters from you, - one in terms of reproof, urging me to firmness, another telling me of Crassus' freedman's account of my careworn appearance, a third relating the doings in the senate, and a fourth containing Varro's confirmation of your opinion as to Pompey's wishes. 2 My answer to the first is that though I am distressed, it has not unhinged my mind: indeed, I am even distressed that, though my mind is so sound, I have neither place nor opportunity for using it. For, if you feel the loss of a single friend like myself, what do you suppose my feelings are, when I have lost you and everyone else? And if you, on whom no ban of outlawry has fallen, miss my presence, you can imagine the aching void outlawry leaves in me. I will not mention all that I have lost, - you know it well enough, and it would only open my wound again. But this I do assert that no one has ever lost so much and no one has ever fallen into such a depth of misery. Time too, instead of lightening my grief, can but add to it: for other sorrows lose their sting as time passes, but my sorrow can but grow daily, as I feel my present misery and think on my past happiness. I mourn the loss not only of my wealth and my friends but of my old self. For what am I now? But I will not wring your soul with my complaints nor keep fingering my sore. You write in defence of those who, I said, envied me and among them Cato. Of him I have not the least suspicion: indeed I am sorry that the false friendship of others had more weight with me than his loyalty. As to the others I suppose I should acquit them if you do.
3 But it is too late to matter now. I don't think Crassus' freedman meant what he said. You say things went well in the senate. But what about Curio? Hasn't he read that speech? Goodness knows how it got published. Axius however, writing on the same day an account of the meeting, has less to say for Curio. Still he might well miss something, while you would certainly not have written what was not true. Varro's talk with you gives me hopes of Caesar. I only wish Varro himself would throw his weight into my cause; and I think he will with a little pressing from you, if not of his own accord.
4 If ever I have the fortune to see you and my country again, I will not fail to give you more cause for joy at my recall than all my other friends: and, though I must confess that up to now my friendly attentions have not been as conspicuous as they "should have been, I will be so persistent with them, that you shall feel that I have been restored to you quite as much as to my brother and children. If ever I have wronged you or rather for the wrongs that I have done you, forgive me. I have wronged myself far more deeply. I do not write this in ignorance of your great grief at my misfortune, but because, if I had earned a right to all the affection you lavish and have lavished on me, you would never have suffered me to stand in need of that sound common sense of yours, and you would not have let me be persuaded that it was in my interest to let the law about the guilds be passed. ** But you, like myself, only gave your tears to my distress, as a tribute of affection: and it was my fault, not yours, that you did not devote day and night to pondering on the course I should take, as you might have done, if my claims on you had been stronger. If you or anyone had dissuaded me from the disgraceful resolve I formed in my alarm at Pompey's ungenerous reply, - and you were the person best qualified to do so - I should either have died with honour, or should to-day be living in triumph. You will pardon what I have said. I am blaming myself far more than you, and you only as my second self, and because I want a companion in my guilt. If I am restored, our common guilt will seem far less, and you, at any rate, will hold me dear for services rendered, not received, by you.
5 You mention talking to Culleo about this law being directed against an individual. ** There is something in that point: but it is much better to have it repealed. If no one vetoes it, it is by far the surest course. If on the other hand anyone is opposed to it, he will veto the Senate's decree too. There is no necessity to repeal anything else as well: the former law did not touch me. ** If we had had the sense to support it when it was brought forward, or to take no notice of it, which was all it deserved, it never would have done us any harm. It was then I first lost the use of my wits, or rather used them to my own destruction. It was blind, absolutely blind of us to put on mourning, to appeal to the crowd - a fatal thing to do before I was attacked personally. But I keep harping on what is over and done with. My point, however, is to urge you, when you do make a move, not to touch that law on account of its claims to popularity.
6 But it is absurd of me to lay down what you should do or how. If only something could be done! And on that very point I am afraid your letters keep back a good deal, to save me from giving way to even deeper despair. What course of action do you suppose can be taken and how? Through the Senate? But you yourself have told me that a clause of Clodius' bill, forbidding any motion or reference to my case, has been posted up in the senate. How then does Domitius propose to make a motion? And how is it that Clodius holds his tongue, when the men you mention talk about the case and ask for a motion? And, if you think of acting through the people, can it be managed without the consent of all the tribunes? What about my goods and chattels? What about my house? Will they be restored? If not, how can I be? If you don't see your way to managing that, what is it you want me to hope for? And, if there is nothing to hope for, what sort of life can I lead? Under these circumstances I am awaiting the Acta for August 1 at Thessalonica, before I make up my mind whether to take refuge on your estate, where I can avoid seeing those I don't want to see, and see you, as you point out in your letter, and be nearer at hand if any action is being taken, or whether I shall go to Cyzicus. I believe you and Quintus want me to keep at hand.
7 Now, Pomponius, you used none of your wisdom in saving me from ruin - either because you thought I had enough common sense myself, or because you thought you owed me nothing but the support of your presence: while I, basely betrayed and hurried to my ruin, threw down my arms and fled, deserting my country, though all Italy would have stood up and defended me with enthusiasm. You looked on in silence, while I betrayed myself, my family and my possessions, to my enemies, though, even if you had not more sense than I had, you certainly had less cause for panic. Now, if you can, raise me from my fall, and in that render me assistance. But, if all ways are blocked, let me know of the fact, and do not keep on either reproaching me or offering us your sympathy. If I had any fault to find with your loyalty, I should not trust myself to your house in preference to all others. It is my own folly in thinking that your affection for me was as great as I wished it to be, that I am finding fault with. If it had been so, you would not have shown more loyalty, but you would have taken more trouble, and you would certainly have prevented me from rushing to my fate, and would not have had all the trouble you are now taking to repair the shipwreck.
8 So please let me know all that you can ascertain for certain, and continue to wish to see me a somebody again, even if I cannot regain the position I once held and might have held. I hope you won't think it is you and not myself I am blaming in this letter. If there is anyone to whom you think a letter ought to be sent in my name, please write one and see that it is sent.
August 17.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
I am waiting for your letters of the first of August before I can decide at all where I shall go. If there is any hope, I shall go to Epirus: if not, I shall make for Cyzicus, or take some other direction. The more often I read your letters, the less hope I have: for, though they are cheerful, they minimise any hope that they raise, so that one can easily see that your allegiance wavers between consolation of me and truth. I must therefore beg you to report facts just as they are, and what you really think of them.
August 19.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
All the news I have had about my brother Quintus from June the 3rd to the end of August has been bad news without exception. But on the last of August Livineius, who had been sent by his former master, L. Regulus, came to me. He assured me that no notice whatever had been given of a prosecution though there was some talk of C. Clodius' son ** undertaking one: and he brought me letters from Quintus himself. But on the next day came some of Sestius' men, with some letters of yours which are not so positive and alarming as Livineius' conversation was. My own unending distress of course renders me anxious, all the more so, as Appius would preside at the trial.
2 From the rest of your remarks in the same letter as to my own chances, I infer that our hopes are fainter than others make out. But since it will not be long now before the matter is settled, I will either move to your house or remain somewhere round here.
3 My brother writes that you alone are his support. I need not urge you to efforts, which you make of your own accord, nor will I offer my thanks, since you do not expect them. I only hope fate may allow us to enjoy our affection in safety. I am always looking eagerly for your letters: and please don't be afraid either of boring me with your minuteness or paining me by telling the truth.
September 4.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
You raised my hopes considerably by writing that Varro had assured you as a friend that Pompey was going to take up my case, and that he would appoint an agent as soon as he had received a letter which he was expecting from Caesar. Did it come to nothing? Or was Caesar's letter hostile? Or is there still room for hope? You mentioned too that he used the words "after the elections." 2 Please do let me have full information as to the state of my case, - you know the anxiety I am in and how kind it would be of you. For my brother, a dear good fellow and very fond of me, sends me nothing but hopeful news, for fear, I suppose, that I should entirely lose heart. Whereas your letters vary in tone; for your intention is neither to cast me into despondency nor to raise rash hopes in me. Pray do let me know everything you may succeed in discovering.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
So long as your letters afforded me any ground for it, my hopes and my longings kept me at Thessalonica: but, as soon as I saw that all political business for this year had come to an end, I made up my mind not to go to Asia, because I cannot put up with society and I do not want to be far away in case the new magistrates should make a move. So I determined to go to your house in Epirus, not that the features of the place make any difference to me now that I shun the light of day entirely, but I should like to sail back to freedom from a port of yours, and, if that hope is cut off, I could not find a better place either to drag on my miserable existence, or, what is preferable, to end it. I shall have few people about me, and shall avoid society.
2 Your letters never aroused my hopes as much as other people's: and yet my hopes were always fainter than your letters. However, since some kind of a move has been made in the matter, whatever kind it may be and whatsoever its cause, I will not disappoint either my dear and only brother's sad and touching entreaties, nor the promises of Sestius and others, nor the appeals of my wife in her deep affliction and my little Tullia in her misery, nor your own true-hearted letters. Epirus shall be my road back to freedom or to what I mentioned before.
3 I beg and beseech you, Pomponius, as you see how I have been robbed of my honours and of my dearest and fondest possessions by men's treachery, as you see how I was betrayed and cast aside by those on whose advice I relied, as you know how I was forced into betraying myself and my family, of your pity help me, and support my brother Quintus, who an still be saved: guard Terentia and my children; as for me, wait for me in Rome, if you think there is any chance of seeing me there. If not, come to see me, if you can, and allot me of your land enough for my body to rest in; and send a man with letters as soon and as often as possible.
Sept. 15.
MY DEAR QUINTUS CAECILIUS POMPONIANUS ATTICUS, SON OF QUINTUS
- that this name is now yours and that your uncle has done his duty by you meets with my heartiest approval; ** I will reserve the phrase "I am glad" for a time when circumstances may permit of my using the word. Poor devil that I am! Everything would be going as right as possible with me, if my own courage and judgement and the loyalty of those in whom I trusted had not failed me. But I will not piece my misfortunes together, for fear of increasing my misery. I am sure you must recollect my former life and its charm and dignity. In the name of good luck and bad, do not let the efforts you are making to recover my position relax; and let me celebrate the birthday of my return in your delightful house with you and my family. Though my hopes and expectations of return have been roused to the highest pitch, I still thought of awaiting their fulfilment at your house in Epirus: but from letters I infer it would be more convenient for me not to be in the same neighbourhood.
2 You are quite right about my house and Curio's speech. If only restoration is promised in general terms, everything else is comprised in that word: and of all things I am most anxious about my house. But I won't enter into details: I trust myself entirely to your affection and loyalty. That you have freed yourself from all embarrassments in taking over your large inheritance is exceedingly pleasant news to me; and I fully realise what an assistance to me is your promise to devote all your resources to my restoration, that I need not call on anyone else for help. I know too that you are taking on your shoulders several men's burdens on my behalf, and that you are quite capable of bearing them, and will not require asking to do so.
3 You forbid me to imagine that it has ever entered your head that I have done what I ought not or left undone what I ought to have done in my dealings with you - well, I will humour you and free my heart from that anxiety, but I shall count myself still deeper in your debt, because your kindness to me has far exceeded mine to you. Please send me news of everything you see or gather and of all that is being done; and urge all your friends to support my return. Sestius' bill does not pay sufficient regard to dignity or caution. The proposal should mention me by name, and contain a carefully worded clause about my property. Please pay attention to that point.
Thessalonica, Oct. 4.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
It is just thirty days from the date of this letter since I had any news from you. My intentions are, as I have said before, to go to Epirus, and to await my fate there rather than anywhere else. I must beg you to inform me quite openly of anything you notice, whether for good or for bad, and, as you suggest, to send letters in my name to every one to whom you think it necessary.
October 28.
[22] L { 25 November 58 } Though my brother Quintus and Piso have sent me careful accounts of what has been done, I am sorry you were too busy to write your usual full description of events and of your observations. Plancius' kindness keeps me here still, though I have several times tried to go to Epirus. He is inspired with a hope, which I do not share, that we may return together: which he hopes would redound to his honour. But now, as soon as news arrives of the approach of the soldiers, ** I shall have to make an effort to leave him. When I do, I will send word to you at once and let you know where I am. 2 The courtesy which Lentulus shows in his actions, his promises and his letters, gives me some hope of Pompey's good will: for you have often mentioned that he would do anything for him. With Metellus, my brother tells me, you have had as much success as he hoped.
3 My dear Pomponius, fight hard for me to be allowed to live with you and with my family; and send me all the news. I am bowed down with grief through my longing for all my dear ones, who have always been dearer to me than myself. Take care of yourself. 4 Knowing that I should be a very long time without any news, if I went to Epirus through Thessaly, and that the people of Dyrrachium were warm friends of mine, I have come to them, after writing the first part of this letter at Thessalonica. As soon as I leave here and go to your house, I will let you know; and please write me every detail of whatsoever kind. Now I look either for the fulfilment of my hopes or for blank despair.
Dyrrachium, Nov 25.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
On the 26th of November I received three letters from you. In one of them, posted on the 25th of October, you exhort me to keep up my courage and wait for January, and you give a full list of all the hopeful signs, Lentulus' zeal for my cause, Metellus' good will and Pompey's policy. One of the others is undated, which is unlike you; but you give a clear clue to the time, for you say you were writing it on the very day that the bill was published by the eight tribunes, that is to say the 29th of October: and you state the advantages you think have resulted from the publication of the law. If my restoration and this law together are long past praying for, I hope your affection will make you regard the trouble I am taking about it with pity rather than amusement. But, if there is still some hope, please see to it that our new magistrates set up a more careful case.
2 For the old tribunes' bill had three sections, and the one about my return was carelessly worded; it does not provide for the restitution of anything but my citizenship and my position. In my fallen fortunes that may be enough for me, but you cannot fail to see what ought to have been stipulated and how. The second clause is the usual form of indemnity: "If in virtue of this law there be any breach of other laws," etc. But it is the third clause, Pomponius, to which I would call your attention. What is its object, and who put it in? You know that Clodius had so provided that it was almost, if not quite impossible for either the Senate or the people to annul his law; but, you see, the imprecations ** attached to laws which are repealed are never regarded, otherwise hardly any law ever would be repealed; for there never is a law which did not hedge itself in with obstacles against its repeal. But, when a law is repealed, the provisions against repeal are repealed likewise. 3 Though this is the case, and always has been in theory and in practice, our eight tribunes have thought fit to insert a clause: "If there be anything contained in this bill, which by law or popular decree," that is by Clodius' law, "cannot now or hereafter be brought forward, whether by way of proposal, repeal, amendment or modification, without penalty, or without involving the author of the proposal or amendment in a penalty or fine, no such proposal is made in this law."
4 And yet these tribunes did not run any risks; as a law made by one of their own body was not binding on them. That increases my suspicion that there is some trickery about it, as they have inserted a clause which does not apply to themselves, but is against my interest; and as a result the new tribunes, if they should happen to be rather timid, would suppose that clause still more indispensable. Nor did Clodius overlook the point: for in the meeting on November the third he said that this clause defined the powers of the tribunes elect. Yet you know quite well that no such clause is ever inserted in a law: and, if it were necessary, everybody would use it when repealing a law. Please try to find out how this clause escaped the notice of Ninnius and the rest, also who inserted it, and why the eight tribunes, after showing no hesitation about bringing my case before the senate - which proves they did not think that section need be taken seriously - yet when it came to repealing the law, became so cautious that they feared a rule, which even those who are bound by the law do not regard, though they themselves were not bound by it. That clause I would rather the new tribunes did not propose; but do let them pass something - anything. I shall be quite contented with a single clause of recall, if only the matter can be settled. For some time past I have been ashamed of writing such long letters. For by the time you read this I am afraid that there may be no hope left, and that all my trouble may serve only to make you pity and others laugh. But, if there is any hope left, look at the bill which Visellius has drawn up for Fadius: it takes my fancy very much, whereas our friend Sestius' proposal, which you say has your approval, does not please me at all.
5 The third letter is dated November 12, and in it you go through the reasons which you think are causing delay in my case, thoughtfully and carefully, mentioning Crassus, Pompey and the rest. Now, if there is the least chance of getting the matter settled by the good offices and authority of the good men and by getting a large mass of supporters, for heaven's sake try to break the barrier down at a rush: devote yourself to it and incite others to join. But if, as I infer from your guesses as well as mine, there is no hope left, then I beg and pray you to cherish my poor brother Quintus, whom I have involved in my own ruin, and not to let him pursue any rash course which would endanger your sister's son. Watch over my poor little boy, to whom I leave nothing but the hatred and the disgrace of my name, so far as you can, and support Terentia with your kindness in her unparalleled misfortune. I shall start for Epirus as soon as I have news about the first few days of the new tribunate. Please let me know in your next letter how the beginning has turned out.
November 29.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
When you wrote to me some time ago that the estimates for the consular provinces ** were passed with your consent, I hoped you saw some good reason or other for that course, though I was afraid of the result: but now that I have been told by word of mouth and by letter that your policy was severely criticised, I am much disturbed at seeing the faint hope I had apparently taken from me. For, if the tribunes are annoyed with us, what hope is left? And they seem to me to have every reason for annoyance, when they were left out of the plan, though they had espoused my cause, and by our concession they have lost all use of their just right, especially as they assert that it was for my sake they wished to exercise their powers in providing for the consuls, with a view not to oppose them but to attach them to my cause. But now if the consuls choose to stand aloof from me, they are perfectly free to do so, while, if they take my part, they can do nothing against the tribunes' will. As for your writing that, if you had not assented, they would have got their way all the same through the people, that could never have happened, if the tribunes opposed it. So I am afraid that I have lost the tribunes' favour, and that, if it is still retained, the bond which should have united the consuls with them has been lost.
2 There is another considerable disadvantage too. There was a strong opinion, or so at least it was reported to me, that the Senate would not pass any measure until my case was settled. That is now lost, and in a case where there was no necessity whatever; indeed the proceeding was unusual and unprecedented. For I do not think the grants of the provinces were ever passed before the consuls entered on their office. The result is that, now that the firm resolution formed in favour of my case has been broken for this one occasion, there is no reason why any decree should not be passed. I don't wonder that those friends to whom the question was referred agreed to it: it would of course have been difficult to find anyone who would openly oppose a measure so favourable to the two consuls. It would have been very difficult too not to oblige so good a friend as Lentulus, or Metellus, considering his kindness in laying aside his quarrel with me. But I am afraid that, while we could have retained their friendship in any case, we have thrown away that of the tribunes. Please write and tell me what the result has been, and how my whole case stands, as freely as you have before. For, however unpleasant the truth may be, I am grateful for it.
December 10.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
After your departure from me I received a letter from Rome, from which I can see that I shall have to waste away in my present misery. For (you must take it in good part) if there had been any hopes of my salvation, I am sure your affection would not have permitted you to go away at such a time. But about that I will say no more, lest I appear ungrateful and seem to want to involve the whole world in my ruin. One thing I do beg of you; keep your promise to come to me, wherever I am, before the New Year.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
A letter from my brother Quintus has come, containing the decree which the Senate passed about me. I am thinking of waiting till the bill is brought forward; and then, if it meets with opposition, I will avail myself of the Senate's expressed opinion, preferring to be deprived of my life rather than of my native land. Please make haste and come to me.
CICERO TO ATTICUS, GREETING.
Your letter shows me that I am ruined beyond redemption; the facts speak for themselves. I implore you to stand by us in our misfortune, and not to let my family want for your assistance in anything. As you say, I myself shall see you soon.
Book 4 →
1. Clodius’ bill interdicting from fire and water anyone who had put to death a Roman citizen uncondemned.
2. This was near Vibo Valentina in the toe of Italy.
3. Quintus was returning to Rome from Asia.
4. Son of the king of Armenia, taken to Rome as a hostage by Pompey, but Clodius had set him free. Cicero's best hope lay in friction between Pompey and Clodius.
5. Hortensius is meant.
6. A prosecution in connection with Quintus' record as governor.
7. The consul-designate was Metellus Nepos.
8. A speech against Curio, of which only a few fragments survive.
9. The collegia were guilds for social, mercantile, or religious purposes. A decree had declared some of them illegal in 64 B.C.; but this was counteracted by a bill passed by Clodius in 58 B.C. The result was many new guilds were formed, which he used for political purposes.
10. A privilegium was a law passed for or against some particular person, which was expressly forbidden by the Twelve Tables.
11. Clodius' earlier bill, which caused Cicero to go into exile, did not mention Cicero by name.
12. Appius maior, as prosecutor of Quintus.
13. Caecilius had died, leaving Atticus his name and wealth.
14. Cicero's enemy, the consul L. Piso, was coming out with troops as governor of Macedonia.
15. Against anyone who should seek to repeal the law.
16. Ornare consules or provincias is the phrase used of the arrangement of the number of troops, the staff, and the amount of money to be granted to each consul, when going he went to his province. It generally took place after they came into office; but for some reason it had been arranged earlier on this occasion.
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