CCCXXXI (A VIII, 2)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
FORMIAE, 17 FEBRUARY
THANK you all round-both for writing to tell
me the remarks you had heard, and for not
believing what reflected upon my energy, and,
lastly, for letting me know your
opinion. I wrote only one letter to Caesar from
Capua in answer to the remonstrance he addressed
to me on the subject of his gladiators. 1 My letter
was short but expressed in friendly terms. So far
from containing any attack upon Pompey, it
mentioned him in the most complimentary terms.
This exactly corresponded with my sentiment in
favour of his making terms with Pompey. If he has
sent that letter anywhere, let him placard it for
everyone to read with all my heart. I am writing a
second letter to him on the same day as I write
this to you. I cannot do otherwise than write,
since he has written to me both by his own hand
and by that of Balbus. I am sending you a copy of
it. I don't think there is anything for you to
find fault with. If there is, suggest how I am to
escape criticism. "Don't write at all," you will
say; "how better elude those who want to make up a
story?" Well, I will follow your advice as long as
it is possible. You exhort me to remember my
deeds, words, and even my writings: it is truly
friendly on your part, and I thank you warmly for
it; but you appear to me to take a different view
from mine as to what is right and suitable to my
character in this controversy. For in my opinion
nothing more discreditable was ever done in any
nation by anyone professing to be a statesman and
leader, than the course taken by our friend. I am
sorry for him. He abandoned the city, that is, his
country, for which, and in which, it would have
been a glorious thing to die. You don't seem to me
to appreciate the magnitude of this disaster: for
you are at this moment in your own town house.
Yes, but you cannot remain there any longer except
by the consent of the vilest of men. Can anything
be more humiliating, more shameful than that? We
are wandering about in distress with wives and
children. All our hopes are dependent on the life
of one man, who has a dangerous illness every
year. We are not expelled, but summoned from our
country, which we have left not to be safe-guarded
till our return, but to be plundered and fired.
There are not so very many with me, 2 nor in suburban houses, nor
suburban parks, nor in the city
itself—and if they are there now, they
soon will not be. I meanwhile shall not stay even
at Capua, but at Luceria, and shall, of course,
abandon the care of the sea-coast at once. I shall
wait to see what Afranius and Petreius do : 3 for
Labienus lacks distinction. Here you will hint
that that is just what you find lacking in me. I
say nothing about myself. I will leave that to
others. In these circumstances, indeed, where is
it to be found? All you loyalists are sticking to
your houses, and will do so. In the old times
didn't every loyalist come forward to support me?
Who does so now in this war, for so it must now be
called? As yet Vibullius has covered himself with
glory. You will learn all about that from Pompey's
letter: in which please notice the passage at
which you will find a mark of attention (
<
). You will see what Vibullius himself
thinks about our friend Gnaeus. What, then, is the
point of all this talk? Why, I am capable of dying
cheerfully for Pompey: I value him more than
anyone in the world. But, for all that, I do not
think that all hope for the Republic is centred in
him. You express an opinion also considerably
different from your usual one, that I must even
quit Italy if he does so: a step which, in my
judgment, is of advantage neither to the Republic
nor to my children, and, what is more, neither
right nor morally justifiable. But why do you say,
"Will you be able to endure the sight of a
tyrant?" As though it mattered whether I heard of
him or saw him; or as though I needed to look for
any better precedent than that of Socrates, who at
the time of the Thirty never set foot out of the
city gate. I have personally also a special motive
for remaining, concerning which I wish to heaven I
might some time have a talk with
you. After writing this on the 17th, by the same
lamp as that in which I burnt your letter, I am
leaving Formiae to join Pompey, with some prospect
of being of use if there is any question of peace,
but if it is to be war—what good shall I
be?
FORMIAE, 17 FEBRUARY
