Letter 163

I have made provision for everything except a hidden and safe route to the upper sea. We cannot use this sea at this time of year. But by what route am I to come to the place my mind aims at and the situation calls me to? I must withdraw quickly, lest I be hindered and bound by something. It is not the man who seems to lead me who actually leads me. I had already known him as the most unpolitical of all men; now I know him as the least soldierly too. So it is not he who leads me, but the talk of people reported to me by Philotimus. He says I am being torn apart by the aristocrats. What aristocrats, good gods! Look how they are now running to meet Caesar, how they are selling themselves to him. As for the towns, they treat him as a god, and do not even pretend as they did when they made vows for that sick man. Plainly whatever evil this Pisistratus does not do will be as welcome as if he had stopped someone else from doing it. They hope Caesar will be gracious; they think Pompey is angry. What receptions from the towns do you think are being made, what honors. "They are afraid," you will say. I believe it, but by Hercules they are more afraid of Pompey. They enjoy Caesar's treacherous clemency; they fear Pompey's anger. The jurors from the panel of 360 who were especially delighted with our Gnaeus, some of whom I see every day, shudder at whatever Luceria he has in mind. So I ask who those aristocrats are who are driving me out while they themselves remain at home. Still, whoever they are, "I am ashamed before the Trojans." Yet I see what hope I set out with: I join myself to a man prepared more to lay Italy waste than to conquer, and I wait for a master. Indeed, as I write this on March 4, I am already waiting for something from Brundisium. But why "something"? I wait to hear how shamefully he has fled from there, and where the victor is turning and by what route. When I hear that, if Caesar comes by the Appian Way, I am thinking of Arpinum.

I have made provision for everything except a secret and safe passage to the Adriatic. The other route I cannot face at this time of the year. How can I get to that place on which my mind is set, and whither fate calls? My departure must be in haste, for fear some obstacle and hindrance should arise. It is not, as one might think, Pompey who induces me to go. I have long known him to be the poorest of statesmen, and I now see he is the poorest of generals. I am not induced by him, but by the common talk of which Philotimus informs me. He says that the loyalists are tearing me to tatters. Loyalists, good God! And see how they are running to meet Caesar, and selling themselves to him. The country towns are treating him as a god, and there is no pretence about it, as there was in the prayers for Pompey's recovery from illness. Any mischief this Pisistratus may leave undone will give as much satisfaction as if he had prevented another from doing it. People hope to placate Caesar; they think that Pompey is angered. What ovations from the towns and what honour is paid him! In fright I dare say, but they are more afraid of Pompey. They are delighted with the cunning kindness of Caesar, and afraid of the anger of his rival. Those who are on the jury list of 360 judges, the especial partisans of Pompey, some of whom I see daily, shudder at vague Lucerias which they conjure up. So I ask what sort of loyalists are these, to banish me, while they remain at home? Still whoever they are "I fear the Trojans." Yet I see clearly with what a prospect I set out, and I join myself with a man ready to devastate our country rather than to conquer its oppressor, and I look to serve a tyrant. And indeed on March 4, the date of this letter, I am expecting every moment some news from Brundisium. Why do I say "some news," when it is news of his disgraceful flight, and the route by which the victor is returning and the direction in which he is moving. On hearing that, I think of going to Arpinum, if Caesar comes by the Appian way.

omnia mihi provisa sunt praeter occultum et tutum iter ad mare superum. hoc enim mari uti non possumus hoc tempore anni. illuc autem quo spectat animus et quo res vocat, qua veniam? cedendum enim est celeriter, ne forte qua re impediar atque adliger. nec vero ille me ducit qui videtur; quem ego hominem apolitikotaton omnium iam ante cognoram, nunc vero etiam astrategetotaton. non me igitur is ducit sed sermo hominum qui ad me a Philotimo scribitur. is enim me ab optimatibus ait conscindi. quibus optimatibus, di boni! qui nunc quo modo occurrunt, quo modo autem se venditant Caesari! municipia vero deum, nec simulant, ut cum de illo aegroto vota faciebant. sed plane quicquid mali hic Pisistratus non fecerit tam gratum erit quam si alium facere prohibuerit. (hunc) propitium sperant, illum iratum putant. quas fieri censes apanteseis ex oppidis, quos honores! 'metuunt' inquies. credo, sed me hercule illum magis. huius insidiosa de mentia delectantur, illius iracundiam formidant. iudices de CCCLX qui praecipue Gnaeo nostro delectabantur, ex quibus cotidie aliquem video, nescio quas eius Lucerias horrent. itaque quaero qui sint isti optimates qui me exturbent cum ipsi domi maneant. sed tamen, quicumque sunt, 'aideomai troas.' etsi qua spe proficiscar video coniungoque me cum homine magis ad vastandam Italiam quam ad vincendum parato dominumque exspecto. et quidem cum haec scribebam iiii Nonas iam exspectabam aliquid a Brundisio. quid autem 'aliquid'? quam inde turpiter fugisset, et victor hic qua se referret et quo. quod ubi audissem, si ille Appia veniret, ego Arpinum cogitabam. Cicero