B.C. 61. Coss., M.
Papius Piso, M. valerius Messalla.
B.C. 61. Coss., M.
Papius Piso, M. valerius Messalla. |
The
letters of this year are much concerned with the
sacrilege of P. Clodius, who, it was alleged, had
been detected in disguise in the house of the
Pontifex Maximus Iulius Caesar, when his wife was
celebrating the mysteries of the Bona Dea, from
which males were excluded. His trial was made the
occasion of bitter party struggles, and by giving
evidence in contradiction of Clodius's alibi
Cicero incurred his enmity, and eventually,
therefore, his own exile. Quintus is propraetor in
Asia,
Caesar in
Spain. Pompey reached
Rome early this
year. The
ordo
equester is much irritated with the
senate on the question of the contracts for the
collection of the Asiatic taxes.
XVI (A I, 12)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, I JANUARY
The Teucris
1 business hangs fire, and Cornelius has not
called on Terentia since. I suppose I must have
recourse to Considius,
Axius, and Selicius
:
2 for his nearest relations can't get a
penny out of Caecilius
3
a under twelve per cent. But to return to my first
remark: I never saw anything more shameless,
artful, and dilatory. "I am on the point of
sending my freedman," "I have commissioned
Titus"—excuses and delays at every turn
! But perhaps it is a case of l'homme propose,
4 for Pompey's advance
couriers tell me that he means to move in the
senate that a successor to Antonius ought to be
named, and the praetor intends to bring the
proposal before the people at the same time. The
facts are such that I cannot defend
him in view of the opinion either of the
aristocrats or the people, and, what is more than
anything else, that I have no wish to do so. For a
thing has happened into the truth of which I
charge you to look thoroughly. I have a freedman,
who is a worthless fellow enough; I mean Hilarus,
an accountant and a client of your own. The
interpreter Valerius gives me this information
about him, and Thyillus writes me word that he has
been told the same story: that the fellow is with
Antonius, and that Antonius, in exacting money
payments, frequently remarks that a part is being
collected for me, and that I have sent a freedman
to look after our common interests. I felt
exceedingly disturbed, and yet could not believe
it; but at any rate there has been some gossip of
the sort. Pray look into the whole matter, learn
the truth, find out the author, and get the
empty-headed idiot out of the Country, if you
possibly can. Valerius mentions Cn. Plancius as
the origin of this gossip. I trust you thoroughly
to investigate and find out what is at the bottom
of it. I have good reason to believe that Pompey
is most kindly disposed to me. His divorce of
Mucia is strongly approved.
5 I
suppose you have heard that P. Clodius, son of
Appius, was caught in woman's clothes at Gaius
Caesar's house, while the state function was going
on, and that he was saved and got out by means of
a maid-servant: and that the affair is causing
immense scandal. I feel sure you will be sorry for
it.
6 I have nothing else to tell
you. And, indeed, at the moment of writing, I am
in considerable distress: for a delightful youth,
my reader Sosthenes, has just died, and his death
has affected me more than that of a slave should,
I think, do. Pray write often. If you have no
news, write just what comes uppermost.
1 January, in the consulship of M.
Messalla and M. Piso.
XVII (F V, 5)
TO C. ANTONIUS (IN MACEDONIA)
ROME, JANUARY
M. Cicero wishes health to Gaius Antonius, son
of Marcus, Imperator. Though I had resolved to
write you nothing but formal letters of
introduction (not because I felt that they had
much weight with you, but to avoid giving those
who asked me for them an idea that there had been
any diminution in our friendship), yet since Titus
Pomponius is starting for your province, who knows
better than anyone else all that I feel and have
done for you, who desires your friendship and is
most devotedly attached to me, I thought I must
write something, especially as I had no other way
of satisfying Pomponius himself. Were I to ask
from you services of the greatest moment, it ought
not to seem surprising to anyone: for you have not
wanted from me any that concerned your interests,
honour, or position. That no return has been made
by you for these you are the best witness : that
something even of a contrary nature has proceeded
from you I have been told by many. I say "told,"
for I do not venture to say "discovered,"
7 lest I should chance to use the word which
people tell me is often falsely attributed to me
by you. But the story which has reached my ears I
would prefer your learning from Pomponius (who was
equally hurt by it) rather than from my letter.
How singularly loyal my feelings have been to you
the senate and Roman people are both witnesses.
How far you have been grateful to me you may
yourself estimate: how much you owe me the rest of
the world estimates. I was induced to do what I
did for you at first by affection, and afterwards
by consistency. Your future, believe me, stands in
need of much greater zeal on my part,
greater firmness and greater labour.
8 These labours, unless it shall
appear that I am throwing away and wasting my
pains, I shall support with all the strength I
have; but if I see that they are not appreciated,
I shall not allow you—the very person
benefited
9 —to think me a fool for my
pains. What the meaning of all this is you will be
able to learn from Pomponius. In commending
Pomponius to you, although I am sure you will do
anything in your power for his own sake, yet I do
beg that if you have any affection for me left,
you will display it all in Pomponius's business.
You can do me no greater favour than that.
XVIII (A I, 13)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 27 JANUARY
I have now received three letters from
you—one by the hands of M. Cornelius,
which you gave him, I think, at Three Taverns; a
second which your host at
Canusium
delivered to me; a third dated, according to you,
from on board your pinnace, when the cable was
already slipped.
10 They were all three, to use a
phrase from the schools of rhetoric flavoured with
the salt of learning, and illumined with the marks
of affection. In these letters, indeed, I am
urgently pressed by you to send answers, but what
renders me rather dilatory in this respect is the
difficulty of finding a trustworthy carrier. How
few of these gentry are able to convey a letter
rather weightier than usual without lightening it
by skimming its contents! Besides, I do not always
care to send
11 whenever
anyone is starting for
Epirus: for I
suppose that, having offered victims before your
Amaltheia,
12 you at once started for
the siege of Sicyon. And yet I am not even certain
when you start to visit Antonius or how much time
you are devoting to
Epirus. Accordingly, I don't venture
to trust either Achaeans or Epirotes with a letter
somewhat more outspoken than usual. Now some
events have occurred since you left me worth my
writing to you, but they must not be trusted to
the risk of a letter being lost, opened, or
intercepted.
Well, then,
to begin with: I was not called upon to speak
first, and the pacifier of the Allobroges
13 was preferred to
me, and though this met with some murmurs of
disapprobation from the senate, I was not sorry it
was done. For I am thereby freed from any
obligation to show respect to an ill-conditioned
man, and am at liberty to support my position in
the Republic in spite of him. Besides, the second
place has a dignity almost equal to that of
princeps senatus, and
does not put one under too much of an obligation
to the consul. The third called on was Catulus;
the fourth, if you want to go still farther,
Hortensius. The consul himself
14 is a man of a small and
ill-regulated mind, a mere buffoon of that
splenetic kind which raises a laugh even in the
absence of wit: it is his face rather than his
facetiousness
15 that causes
merriment : he takes practically no part in public
business, and is quite alienated from the
Optimates. You need expect no service to the state
from him, for he has not the will to do any, nor
fear any damage, for he hasn't the
courage to inflict it. His colleague, however,
treats me with great distinction, and is also a
zealous supporter of the loyalist party. For the
present their disagreement has not come to much;
but I fear that this taint may spread farther. For
I suppose you have heard that when the state
function was being performed in Caesar's house a
man in woman's dress got in,
16 and that the
Vestals having performed the rite again, mention
was made of the matter in the senate by Q.
Cornificius—he was the first, so don't
think that it was one of us
consulars—and that on the matter being
referred by a decree of the senate to the [Virgins
and] pontifices, they decided that a sacrilege had
been committed: that then, on a farther decree of
the senate, the consuls published a bill: and that
Caesar divorced his wife. On this question Piso,
from friendship for P. Clodius, is doing his best
to get the bill promulgated by himself (though in
accordance with a decree of the senate and on a
point of religion) rejected. Messalla as yet is
strongly for severe measures. The loyalists hold
aloof owing to the entreaties of Clodius : bands
of ruffians are being got together: I myself, at
first a stern Lycurgus, am becoming daily less and
less keen about it: Cato is hot and eager. In
short, I fear that between the indifference of the
loyalists and the support of the disloyal it may
be the cause of great evils to the Republic.
However, your great friend
17 —do you know whom
I mean ?—of whom you said in your letter
that, "not venturing to blame me, he was beginning
to be complimentary," is now to all appearance
exceedingly fond of me, embraces me, loves and
praises me in public, while in secret (though
unable to disguise it) he is jealous of me. No
good-breeding, no straightforwardness, no
political morality, no distinction, no courage, no
liberality! But on these points I will write to
you more minutely at another time; for in the
first place I am not yet quite sure about them,
and in the next place I dare not entrust a letter
on such weighty matters to such a casual nobody's
son as this messenger.
The
praetors have not yet drawn their lots for the
provinces. The matter remains just where you left
it. The description of the scenery of
Misenum and
Puteoli which
you ask for I will include in my speech.
18 I had already noticed the mistake in the
date, 3rd of December. The points in my speeches
which you praise, believe me, I liked very much
myself, but did not venture to say so before. Now,
however, as they have received your approval, I
think them much more "Attic" than ever. To the
speech in answer to Metellus.
19 I have made some
additions. The book shall be sent you, since
affection for me gives you a taste for rhetoric.
What news have I for you? Let me see. Oh, yes! The
consul Messalla has bought Antonius's house for
3,400 sestertia. What is that to me? you will say.
Why, thus much. The price has convinced people
that I made no bad bargain, and they begin to
understand that in making a purchase a man may
properly use his friends' means to get what suits
his position. The Teucris affair drags on, yet I
have hopes. Pray settle the business you have in
hand. You shall have a more outspoken letter soon.
27 January, in the
consulship of M. Messalla and M. Piso.
XIX (A I, 14)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 13 FEBRUARY
I fear it may seem affectation to tell you how
occupied I have been; but I am so distracted with
business that I have only just found time for this
short letter, and that has been
stolen from the most urgent engagements. I have
already described to you Pompey's first public
speech—it did not please the poor, nor
satisfy the disloyal, nor find favour with the
wealthy, nor appear sound to the loyalists;
accordingly, he is down in the world.
20 Presently, on the
instigation of the consul Piso, that most
insignificant of tribunes, Fufius, brought Pompey
on to the platform. The meeting was in the
circus Flaminius, and
there was in the same place that day a crowd of
market people—a kind of tiers état.
21 He asked him to say whether he
approved of the jurymen being selected by the
praetor, to form a panel for the praetor himself
to employ. That was the regulation made by the
senate in the matter of Clodius's sacrilege.
Thereupon Pompey made a highly "aristocratic"
speech, and replied (and at great length) that in
all matters the authority of the senate was of the
greatest weight in his eyes and had always been
so. Later on the consul Messalla in the senate
asked Pompey his opinion as to the sacrilege and
the bill that had been published. His speech in
the senate amounted to a general commendation of
all decrees of the house, and when he sat down he
said to me, "I think my answer covers your case
also."
22 When
Crassus observed that Pompey had got a cheer from
the idea in men's minds that he approved my
consulship, he rose also to. his feet and
delivered a speech in the most complimentary terms
on my consulship, going so far as to say that he
owed it to me that he was still a senator, a
citizen, nay, a free man; and that he never beheld
wife, home, or country without beholding the
fruits of my conduct. In short: that whole topic,
which I am wont to paint in various colours in my
speeches (of which you are the Aristarchus), the
fire, the sword—you know my
paint-pots—he elaborated to the highest
pitch. I was sitting next to Pompey. I noticed
that he was agitated, either at Crassus earning
the gratitude which he had himself neglected, or
to think that my achievements were,
after all, of such magnitude that the senate was
so glad to hear them praised, especially by a man
who was the less under an obligation to praise me,
because in everything I ever wrote
23 my
praise of Pompey was practically a reflection on
him. This day has brought me very close to
Crassus, and yet in spite of all I accepted with
pleasure any compliment—open or
covert—from Pompey. But as for my own
speech, good heavens! how I did "put it on" for
the benefit of my new auditor Pompey! If I ever
did bring every art into play, I did
then—period, transition, enthymeme,
deduction—everything. In short, I was
cheered to the echo. For the subject of my speech
was the dignity of the senate, its harmony with
the equites, the unanimity of
Italy, the dying
embers of the conspiracy, the fall in prices, the
establishment of peace. You know my thunder when
these are my themes. It was so loud, in fact, that
I may cut short my description, as I think you
must have heard it even in
Epirus.
The state of things at
Rome is this: the
senate is a perfect Areopagus. You cannot conceive
anything firmer, more grave, or more
high-spirited. For when the day came for proposing
the bill in accordance with the vote of the
senate, a crowd of our dandies with their
chin-tufts assembled, all the Catiline set, with
Curio's girlish son at their head, and implored
the people to reject it. Moreover, Piso the
consul, who formally introduced the bill, spoke
against it. Clodius's hired ruffians had filled up
the entrances to the voting boxes. The voting
tickets were so manipulated that no "ayes" were
distributed. Hereupon imagine Cato hurrying to the
rostra, delivering an admirable invective against
the consul, if we can call that an ''invective"
which was really a speech of the utmost weight and
authority, and in fact containing the most
salutary advice. He is followed to
the same effect by your friend Hortensius, and
many loyalists besides, among whom, however, the
contribution of Favonius was conspicuous. By this
rally of the Optimates the
comitia is dissolved, the senate
summoned. On the question being put in a full
house—in spite of the opposition of
Piso, and in spite of Clodius throwing himself at
the feet of the senators one after the
other—that the consuls should exhort the
people to pass the bill, about fifteen voted with
Curio, who was against any decree being passed; on
the other side there were fully four hundred. So
the vote passed. The tribune Fufius then gave in.
24 Clodius
delivered some wretched speeches to the people, in
which he bestowed some injurious epithets on
Lucullus, Hortensius, C. Piso, and the consul
Messalla; me he only charged with having
"discovered" everything.
25 In regard to
the assignation of provinces to the praetors, the
hearing legations, and other business, the senate
voted that nothing should be brought before it
till the bill had been brought before the people.
There is the state of things at
Rome for you. Yet
pray listen to this one thing more which has
surpassed my hopes. Messalla is a superlatively
good consul, courageous, firm, painstaking; he
praises, shows attachment to, and imitates me.
That other one (Piso) is the less mischievous
because of one vice—he is lazy, sleepy,
unbusinesslike, an utter fainéant, but in intention
he is so disaffected that he has begun to loathe
Pompey since he made the speech in which some
praise was bestowed on the senate. Accordingly, he
has alienated all the loyalists to a remarkable
degree. And his action is not dictated by love for
Clodius more than by a taste for a profligate
policy and a profligate party. But he has nobody
among the magistrates like himself, with the
single exception of the tribune Fufius. The
tribunes are excellent, and in Cornutus we have a
quasi-Cato. Can I say more?
Now to return to private matters. "Teucris" has
fulfilled her promise.
26 Pray execute the commission
you undertook. My brother Quintus, who purchased
the remaining three-fourths of the house in the
Argiletum for 725 sestertia, is now trying to sell
his Tusculan property, in order to purchase, if he
can, the town house of Pacilius. Make it up with
Lucceius! I see that he is all agog to stand for
the consulship. I will do my best. Be careful to
let me know exactly how you are, where you are,
and how your business goes on.
13 February.
XX (A I, 15)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 15 MARCH
You have heard that my dearest brother Quintus
has got
Asia; for I do not doubt that rumour
has conveyed the news to you quicker than a letter
from any of us. Now then, considering how desirous
of a good reputation he and I have ever been, and
how unusually Philhellenic we are and have the
reputation of being, and considering how many
there are whose enmity we have incurred for the
sake of the Republic, "call to mind all your
valour,"
27 to
secure us the praise and affection of all
concerned. I will write at greater length to you
on these points in the letter which I shall give
to Quintus himself.
28 Please let me know
what you have done about the business I confided
to you, and also in your own affair; for I have
had no letter from you since you left
Brundisium. I am
very anxious to hear how you are.
15 March.
XXI (A 1,16)
You ask me what has happened about the trial,
the result of which was so contrary to the general
expectation, and at the same time you want to know
how I came to make a worse fight of it than usual.
I will answer the last first. after the manner of
Homer.
29 The fact is that,
so long as I had to defend the authority of the
senate,
30 I
battled with such gallantry and vigour that there
were shouts of applause and crowds round me in the
house ringing with my praise. Nay, if you ever
thought that I showed courage in political
business, you certainly would have admired my
conduct in that cause. For when the culprit had
betaken himself to public meetings, and had made
an invidious use of my name, immortal gods! What
battles! What havoc! What sallies I made upon
Piso, Curio, on the whole of that set! How I fell
upon the old men for their instability, on the
young for their profligacy! Again and again, so
help me heaven! I regretted your absence not only
as the supporter of my policy, but as the
spectator also of my admirable fighting. However,
when Hortensius hit on the idea of a law as to the
sacrilege being proposed by the tribune Fufius, in
which there was no difference from the bill of the
consul except as to the kind of
jurymen—on that point, however, the
whole question turned—and got it carried
by sheer fighting, because he had persuaded
himself and others that he could not get an
acquittal no matter who were the jurymen, I drew
in my sails, seeing the neediness of the jurors,
and gave no evidence beyond what was so notorious
and well attested that I could not omit it.
31 Therefore, if you ask reason
of the acquittal—to return at length to
the former of the two questions —it was
entirely the poverty and low character of the
jury. But that this was possible was entirely the
result of Hortensius's policy. In his alarm lest
Fufius should veto the law which was to be
proposed in virtue of a senatorial decree, he
failed to see that it was better that the culprit
should be left under a cloud of disgrace and
dishonour than that he should be trusted to the
discretion of a weak jury. But in his passionate
resentment he hastened to bring the case into
court, saying that a leaden sword was good enough
to cut his throat. But if you want to know the
history of the trial, with its incredible verdict,
it was such that Hortensius's policy is now blamed
by other people after the event, though I
disapproved of it from the first. When the
rejection of jurors had taken place, amidst loud
cheers and counter-cheers—the accuser
like a strict censor rejecting the most worthless,
the defendant like a kind-hearted trainer of
gladiators all the best—as soon as the
jury had taken their seats, the loyalists at once
began to feel distrust. There never was a seedier
lot round a table in a gambling hell. Senators
under a cloud, equites out at elbows, tribunes who
were not so much made of money as "collectors" of
it, according to their official title.
32 However, there were a few
honest men in the panel, whom he had been unable
to drive off it by rejection, and they took their
seats among their uncongenial comrades with gloomy
looks and signs of emotion, and were keenly
disgusted at having to rub elbows with such
rascals. Hereupon, as question after question was
referred to the panel in the preliminary
proceedings, the severity of the decisions passes
belief: there was no disagreement in
voting, the defendant carried none of his points,
while the accuser got even more than he asked. He
was triumphant. Need I say more? Hortensius would
have it that he was the only one of us who had
seen the truth. There was not a man who did not
think it impossible for him to stand his trial
without being condemned a thousand times over.
Further, when I was produced as a witness, I
suppose you have been told how the shouts of
Clodius's supporters were answered by the jury
rising to their feet to gather round me, and
openly to offer their throats to P. Clodius in my
defence. This seemed to me a greater compliment
than the well-known occasion when your fellow
citizens
33 stopped Xenocrates from taking an oath in
the witness-box, or when, upon the accounts of
Metellus Numidicus
34 being as usual handed
round, a Roman jury refused to look at them. The
compliment paid me, I repeat, was much greater.
Accordingly, as the jurymen were protecting me as
the mainstay of the country, it was by their
voices that the defendant was overwhelmed, and
with him all his advocates suffered a crushing
blow. Next day my house was visited by as great a
throng as that which escorted me home when I laid
down the consulship. Our eminent Areopagites then
exclaimed that they would not come into court
unless a guard was assigned them. The question was
put to the whole panel: there was only one vote
against the need of a guard. The question is
brought before the senate: the decree is passed in
the most solemn and laudatory terms : the jurymen
are complimented: the magistrates are commissioned
to carry it out: no one thought that the fellow
would venture on a defence. "Tell me, ye Muses,
now how first the fire befell !"
35 You know Bald-head, the Nanneian
millionaire,
36 that panegyrist of mine,
whose complimentary oration I have
already mentioned to you in a letter. In two days'
time, by the agency of a single slave, and one,
too, from a school of gladiators, he settled the
whole business—he summoned them to an
interview, made a promise, offered security, paid
money down. Still farther, good heavens, what a
scandal! even favours from certain ladies, and
introductions to young men of rank, were thrown in
as a kind of pourboire to some of the jurors.
Accordingly, with the loyalists holding completely
aloof, with the forum full of slaves, twenty-five
jurors were yet found so courageous that, though
at the risk of their lives, they preferred even
death to producing universal ruin. There were
thirty-one who were more influenced by famine than
fame. On seeing one of these latter Catulus said
to him, "Why did you ask us for a guard? Did you
fear being robbed of the money?" There you have,
as briefly as I could put it, the nature of the
trial and the cause of the acquittal.
Next you want to know the present
state of public affairs and of my own. That
settlement of the Republic—firmly
established by my wisdom, as you thought, as I
thought by God's—which seemed fixed on a
sure foundation by the unanimity of all loyalists
and the influence of my consulship—that
I assure you, unless some God take compassion on
us, has by this one verdict escaped from our
grasp: if "verdict" it is to be called, when
thirty of the most worthless and dissolute fellows
in
Rome
for a paltry sum of money obliterate every
principle of law and justice, and when that which
every man—I had almost said every
animal—knows to have taken place, a
Thalna, a Plautus, and a Spongia, and other scum
of that sort decide not to have taken place.
However, to console you as to the state of the
Republic, rascaldom is not as cheerful and
exultant in its victory as the disloyal hoped
after the infliction of such a wound upon the
Republic. For they fully expected that when
religion, morality, the honour of juries, and the
prestige of the senate had sustained such a
crushing fall, victorious profligacy and lawless
lust would openly exact vengeance from all the best men for the mortification which
the strictness of my consulship had branded in
upon all the worst. And it is once more
I—for I do not feel as if I were
boasting vaingloriously when speaking of myself to
you, especially in a letter not intended to be
read by others—it was I once more, I
say, who revived the fainting spirits of the
loyalists, cheering and encouraging each
personally. Moreover, by my denunciations and
invectives against those corrupt jurors I left
none of the favourers and supporters of that
victory a word to say for themselves. I gave the
consul Piso no rest anywhere, I got him deprived
of
Syria,
which had been already plighted to him, I revived
the fainting spirit of the senate and recalled it
to its former severity. I overwhelmed Clodius in
the senate to his face, both in a set speech, very
weighty and serious, and also in an interchange of
repartees, of which I append a specimen for your
delectation. The rest lose all point and grace
without the excitement of the contest, or, as you
Greeks call it, the
ἀγών. Well, at the meeting of the
senate on the 15th of May, being called on for my
opinion, I spoke at considerable length on the
high interests of the Republic, and brought in the
following passage by a happy inspiration: "Do not,
Fathers, regard yourselves as fallen utterly, do
not faint, because you have received one blow. The
wound is one which I cannot disguise, but which I
yet feel sure should not be regarded with extreme
fear: to fear would show us to be the greatest of
cowards, to ignore it the greatest of fools.
Lentulus was twice acquitted, so was Catiline, a
third such criminal has now been let loose by
jurors upon the Republic. You are mistaken,
Clodius: it is not for the city but for the prison
that the jurors have reserved you, and their
intention was not to retain you in the state, but
to deprive you of the privilege of exile.
Wherefore, Fathers, rouse up all your courage,
hold fast to your high calling. There still
remains in the Republic the old unanimity of the
loyalists: their feelings have been outraged,
their resolution has not been weakened: no fresh
mischief has been done, only what was actually
existing has been discovered. In the trial of one
profligate many like him have been
detected."—But what am I about? I have
copied almost a speech into a letter. I return to
the duel of words. Up gets our dandified young gentleman, and throws in my teeth my
having been at
Baiae. It wasn't true, but what did
that matter to him? "It is as though you were to
say," replied I, "that I had been in disguise!"
"What business," quoth he, "has an Arpinate with
hot baths?" "Say that to your patron," said I,
"who Coveted the watering-place of an Arpinate."
37 For you know about the
marine villa. "How long," said he, "are we to put
up with this king?" "Do you mention a king," quoth
I, "when Rex
38 made no mention of you?"
He, you know, had swallowed the inheritance of Rex
in anticipation. "You have bought a house," says
he. "You would think that he said," quoth I, "you
have bought a jury." "They didn't trust you on
your oath," said he. "Yes," said I, "twenty-five
jurors did trust me, thirty-one didn't trust you,
for they took care to get their money beforehand."
Here he was overpowered by a burst of applause and
broke down without a word to say.
My own position is this: with the
loyalists I hold the same place as when you left
town, with the tagrag and bobtail of the City I
hold a much better one than at your departure. For
it does me no harm that my evidence appears not to
have availed. Envy has been let blood without
causing pain, and even more so from the fact that
all the supporters of that flagitious proceeding
confess that a perfectly notorious fact has been
hushed up by bribing the jury. Besides, the
wretched starveling mob, the blood-sucker of the
treasury, imagines me to be high in the favour of
Magnus—and indeed we have been mutually
united by frequent pleasant intercourse to such an
extent, that our friends the boon companions of
the conspiracy, the young chin-tufts, speak of him
in ordinary conversation as Gnaeus Cicero.
Accordingly, both in the circus and at the
gladiatorial games, I received a remarkable
ovation without a single cat-call. There is at
present a lively anticipation of the elections, in
which, contrary to everybody's wishes, our friend
Magnus is pushing the claims of Aulus's son;
39 and in
that matter his weapons are neither
his prestige nor his popularity, but those by
which Philip said that any fortress could be
taken—if only an ass laden with gold
could make its way up into it. Furthermore, that
precious consul, playing as it were second fiddle
to Pompey,
40 is said to have undertaken the business
and to have bribery agents at his house, which I
don't believe. But two decrees have already passed
the house of an unpopular character, because they
are thought to be directed against the consul on
the demand of Cato and Domitius
41 —one that
search should be allowed in magistrates' houses,
and a second, that all who had bribery agents in
their houses were guilty of treason. The tribune
Lurco also, having entered on his office
irregularly in view of the Aelian law, has been
relieved from the provisions both of the Aelian
and Fufian laws, in order to enable him to propose
his law on bribery, which he promulgated with
correct auspices though a cripple.
42 Accordingly, the
comitia have been postponed to
the 27th of July. There is this novelty in his
bill, that a man who has promised money among the
tribes, but not paid it, is not liable, but, if he
has paid, he is liable for life to pay 3,000
sesterces to each tribe. I remarked that P.
Clodius had obeyed this law by anticipation, for
he was accustomed to promise, and not pay. But
observe! Don't you see that the consulship of
which we thought so much, which Curio used of old
to call an apotheosis, if this Afranius is
elected, will become a mere farce and mockery?
Therefore I think one should play the philosopher,
as you in fact do, and not care a straw for your
consulships !
You say in
your letter that you have decided not to go to
Asia. For
my part I should have preferred your going, and I
fear that there may be some offence
43 given in that matter.
Nevertheless, I am not the man to blame you,
especially considering that I have
not gone to a province myself. I shall be quite
Content with the inscriptions you have placed in
your
44 Amaltheium,
especially as Thyillus has deserted me and Archias
written nothing about me. The latter, I am afraid,
having composed a Greek poem on the Luculli, is
now turning his attention to the Caecilian drama.
45 I have
thanked Antonius on your account, and I have
intrusted the letter to Mallius I have heretofore
written to you more rarely because I had no one to
whom I could trust a letter, and was not sure of
your address. I have puffed you well. If Cincius
should refer any business of yours to me, I will
undertake it. But at present he is more intent on
his own business, in which I am rendering him some
assistance. If you mean to stay any length of time
in one place you may expect frequent letters from
me: but pray send even more yourself. I wish you
would describe your Amaltheium to me, its
decoration and its plan; and send me any poems or
stories you may have about Amaltheia.
46
I should like to make a copy of it at
Arpinum. I will
forward you something of what I have written. At
present there is nothing finished.
XXII (A I, 17)
TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)
ROME, 5 DECEMBER
Your letter, in which you inclose copies of
his letters, has made me realize that my brother
Quintus's feelings have undergone many
alternations, and that his opinions and judgments
have varied widely from time to time.
47 This
has not only caused me all the pain which my
extreme affection for both of you was bound to
bring, but it has also made me wonder what can
have happened to cause my brother Quintus such
deep offence, or such an extraordinary change of
feeling. And yet I was already aware, as I saw
that you also, when you took leave of me, were
beginning to suspect, that there was some lurking
dissatisfaction, that his feelings were wounded,
and that certain unfriendly suspicions had sunk
deep into his heart. On trying on several previous
occasions, but more eagerly than ever after the
allotment of his province, to assuage these
feelings, I failed to discover on the one hand
that the extent of his offence was so great as
your letter indicates; but on the other I did not
make as much progress in allaying it as I wished.
However, I consoled myself with thinking that
there would be no doubt of his seeing you at
Dyrrachium, or somewhere in your part
of the country: and, if that happened, I felt sure
and fully persuaded that everything would be made
smooth between you, not only by conversation and
mutual explanation, but by the very sight of each
other in such an interview. For I need not say in
writing to you, who know it quite well, how kind
and sweet-tempered my brother is, as ready to
forgive as he is sensitive in taking offence. But
it most unfortunately happened that you did not
see him anywhere. For the impression he had
received from the artifices of others
had more weight with him than duty or
relationship, or the old affection so long
existing between you, which ought to have been the
strongest influence of all. And yet, as to where
the blame for this misunderstanding resides, I can
more easily conceive than write: since I am afraid
that, while defending my own relations, I should
not spare yours. For I perceive that, though no
actual wound was inflicted by members of the
family, they yet could at least have cured it. But
the root of the mischief in this case, which
perhaps extends farther than appears, I shall more
conveniently explain to you when we meet. As to
the letter he sent to you from
Thessalonica,
48 and about the language which you suppose
him to have used both at
Rome among your
friends and on his journey, I don't know how far
the matter went, but my whole hope of removing
this unpleasantness rests on your kindness. For if
you will only make up your mind to believe that
the best men are often those whose feelings are
most easily irritated and appeased, and that this
quickness, so to speak, and sensitiveness of
disposition are generally signs of a good heart
and lastly—and this is the main
thing—that we must mutually put up with
each other's gaucheries (shall I call them?), or
faults, or injurious acts, then these
misunderstandings will, I hope, be easily smoothed
away. I beg you to take this view, for it is the
dearest wish of my heart (which is yours as no one
else's can be) that there should not be one of my
family or friends who does not love you and is not
loved by you.
That part of
your letter was entirely superfluous, in which you
mention what opportunities of doing good business
in the provinces or the city you let pass at other
times as well as in the year of my consulship: for
I am thoroughly persuaded of your unselfishness
and magnanimity, nor did I ever think that there
was any difference between you and me except in
our choice of a career. Ambition led me to seek
official advancement, while another and perfectly
laudable resolution led you to seek an honourable
privacy. In the true glory, which is founded on
honesty, industry, and piety, I place neither
myself nor anyone else above you. In affection
towards myself, next to my brother
and immediate family, I put you first. For indeed,
indeed I have seen and thoroughly appreciated how
your anxiety and joy have corresponded with the
variations of my fortunes. Often has your
congratulation added a charm to praise, and your
consolation a welcome antidote to alarm. Nay, at
this moment of your absence, it is not only your
advice—in which you excel—but
the interchange of speech—in which no
one gives me so much delight as you
do—that I miss most, shall I say in
politics, in which circumspection is always
incumbent on me, or in my forensic labour, which I
formerly sustained with a view to official
promotion, and nowadays to maintain my position by
securing popularity, or in the mere business of my
family? In all these I missed you and our
conversations before my brother left
Rome, and still
more do I miss them since. Finally, neither my
work nor rest, neither my business nor leisure,
neither my affairs in the forum or at home, public
or private, can any longer do without your most
consolatory and affectionate counsel and
conversation. The modest reserve which
characterizes both of us has often prevented my
mentioning these facts; but on this occasion it
was rendered necessary by that part of your letter
in which you expressed a wish to have yourself and
your character "put straight" and "cleared" in my
eyes. Yet, in the midst of all this unfortunate
alienation and anger, there is one fortunate
circumstance—that your determination of
not going to a province was known to me and your
other friends, and had been at various times
before distinctly expressed by yourself; so that
your not being his guest may be attributed to your
personal tastes and judgments, not to the quarrel
and rupture between you. And so those ties which
have been broken will be restored, and ours which
have been so religiously preserved will retain all
their old inviolability.
At
Rome I find politics in a shaky
condition; everything is unsatisfactory and
foreboding change. For I have no doubt you have
been told that our friends, the equites, are all
but alienated from the senate. Their first
grievance was the promulgation of a bill on the
authority of the senate for the trial of such as
had taken bribes for giving a verdict. I happened
not to be in the house when that decree was
passed, but when I found that the equestrian order
was indignant at it, and yet refrained from openly
saying so, I remonstrated with the
senate, as I thought, in very impressive language,
and was very weighty and eloquent considering the
unsatisfactory nature of my cause. But here is
another piece of almost intolerable coolness on
the part of the equites, which I have not only
submitted to, but have even put in as good a light
as possible! The companies which had contracted
with the censors for
Asia complained that in the heat of
the competition they had taken the contract at an
excessive price; they demanded that the contract
should be annulled. I led in their support, or
rather, I was second, for it was Crassus who
induced them to venture on this demand. The case
is scandalous, the demand a disgraceful one, and a
confession of rash speculation. Yet there was a
very great risk that, if they got no concession,
they would be completely alienated from the
senate. Here again I came to the rescue more than
anyone else, and secured them a full and very
friendly house, in which I, on the 1st and 2nd of
December, delivered long speeches on the dignity
and harmony of the two orders. The business is not
yet settled, but the favourable feeling of the
senate has been made manifest: for no one had
spoken against it except the consul-designate,
Metellus; while our hero Cato had still to speak,
the shortness of the day having prevented his turn
being reached. Thus I, in the maintenance of my
steady policy, preserve to the best of my ability
that harmony of the orders which was originally my
joiner's work; but since it all now seems in such
a crazy condition, I am constructing what I may
call a road towards the maintenance of our power,
a safe one I hope, which I cannot fully describe
to you in a letter, but of which I will
nevertheless give you a hint. I cultivate close
intimacy with Pompey. I foresee what you will say.
I will use all necessary precautions, and I will
write another time at greater length about my
schemes for managing the Republic. You must know
that Lucceius has it in his mind to stand for the
consulship at once; for there are said to be only
two candidates in prospect. Caesar is thinking of
coming to terms with him by the agency of Arrius,
and Bibulus also thinks he may effect a coalition
with him by means of C. Piso.
49 You smile? This is no laughing matter, believe me.
What else shall I write to you? What? I have
plenty to say, but must put it off to another
time. If you mean to wait till you hear, let me
know. For the moment I am satisfied with a modest
request, though it is what I desire above
everything—that you should come to
Rome as
soon as possible.
5
December.
