Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 66 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
A great fluctuation of feeling and a divergence in the opinion and judgment of my brother Quintus has been shown to me by your letter, in which you sent me copies of his letters. From this circumstance I have been afflicted both with as much distress as my supreme affection toward each of you was bound to bring upon me, and with astonishment at what could possibly have happened that would bring upon my brother Quintus either so grave a sense of grievance or so great a change of feeling. And that very thing was already understood by me beforehand, since I observed that you yourself, when you were departing from us, suspected it too: that some uncomfortable opinion lay underneath, and that his mind was wounded, and that certain hateful suspicions had taken root in it. Although I had desired to remedy these often before, and even more vehemently after the allotment of his province, I neither understood that there was as much grievance in him as your letter has declared, nor did I make as much progress as I wished. But nevertheless I consoled myself with this, that I did not doubt that he would see you either at Dyrrachium or somewhere in those regions; and when that had happened, I felt confident, and had persuaded myself, that all things would be reconciled between you, not only by conversation and discussion, but by the very sight and meeting of one another. For how great is the courtesy in my brother Quintus, how great the agreeableness, how soft a temper both for taking on and for laying aside a grievance, it is not at all necessary for me to write to you, who know these things. But it has turned out most inconveniently that you saw him nowhere. For what had been driven into him by the artifices of certain persons prevailed more than either your sense of duty, or your close bond, or that old affection of yours, which ought to have prevailed most of all. And where the blame for this misfortune resides, I can more easily judge than write; for I fear that, while I defend my own people, I may not spare yours. For I understand this much: that even granting that no wound was inflicted by those of his household, those persons could certainly have healed the one that did exist. But the fault of this whole matter, which extends somewhat more widely too than it appears, I shall set forth to you more conveniently when you are present. Concerning that letter which he sent you from Thessalonica, and concerning the conversations which you suppose he held about you both at Rome among your friends and on the journey, I do not know whether there is so much cause for it; but all my hope of relieving this distress is placed in your kindness. For if you decide thus, that the minds of the best men are often irritable and the same men also easily appeased, and that this responsiveness, so to speak, and softness of nature is for the most part a sign of goodness, and -- which is the chief point -- that between ourselves our mutual discomforts, or faults, or wrongs must be tolerated, these things will easily be soothed, as I hope; and I beg you to do this. For it is of the greatest concern to me, who hold you uniquely dear, that there should be none of my own people who either does not love you or is not loved by you. That part of your letter was least necessary, in which you set forth what advantages, either of provincial or of urban profits, you passed over both at other times and when I myself was consul. For your generosity of nature and your greatness of mind are thoroughly known to me; nor did I ever consider that there was any difference between me and you except in the choice of the manner of life we had each adopted, since a certain ambition led me to a zeal for honors, while another, by no means blameworthy, principle led you to honorable leisure. In the true praise of integrity, of diligence, of conscientiousness, I rank neither myself nor anyone above you; but in affection toward me, when I have set aside the affection of a brother and of family, I assign the first place to you. For I have seen, I have seen and thoroughly perceived in my own various circumstances both your anxieties and your joys. Often your congratulation upon our praise has been delightful to me, and your consolation in fear welcome. Indeed, now in your absence I most of all lack not only your counsel, in which you excel, but also that sharing of conversation which is wont to be most sweet to me with you -- about what shall I say? about public affairs of revenue, in which kind of matter I am not permitted to be negligent, or about the labor of the forum, which I formerly sustained on account of ambition, but now sustain so that I may be able by my influence to safeguard my dignity, or about my domestic affairs themselves, in which both before, and indeed truly since my brother's departure, I miss you and our conversations? In short, not my labor, nor my repose, nor business, nor leisure, nor forensic matters, nor domestic ones, nor public, nor private, can any longer do without your most sweet and most loving counsel and conversation. And the modesty of each of us has often hindered the mention of these things; but now it has become necessary on account of that part of your letter through which you wished your conduct and your character to be cleared and approved in my eyes. And in that inconvenience of his alienated and offended mind there is nevertheless this advantage, that your wish to give up your province was known both to me and to your other friends, and had been attested by you some time before, so that the fact that you are not together may appear to have come about not from any disagreement and rupture between you, but from your own wish and judgment. Wherefore both those bonds which have been violated will be expiated, and these our own bonds, which have been most scrupulously preserved, will keep their sacred obligation. We here are engaged in a republic that is weak, wretched, and changeable. For I believe you have heard that our equestrians have been almost separated from the senate; who first took it very grievously that it had been promulgated, in accordance with a decree of the senate, that inquiry should be made concerning those who had taken bribes for giving judgment. In the decreeing of this matter, since by chance I had not been present, and had perceived that the equestrian order took it ill, though it did not say so openly, I rebuked the senate, as it seemed to me, with the highest authority, and in a cause not very respectable I was weighty and copious. Behold, another caprice of the equestrians scarcely to be endured! which I not only endured, but even adorned. Those who had contracted from the censors for the revenues of Asia complained in the senate that, carried away by eagerness, they had contracted at too high a price, and demanded that the contract be cancelled. I was the foremost among the supporters, or rather the second; for it was Crassus who incited them to dare to make this demand. An invidious affair, a disgraceful demand, and a confession of rashness. There was the greatest danger that, if they obtained nothing, they would be utterly alienated from the senate. This matter too was relieved chiefly by us, and it was brought about that they enjoyed a very full and very well-disposed senate, and many things were said by me concerning the dignity and concord of the orders on the first of December and the day after. Nor is the matter yet finished, but the will of the senate has been clearly perceived; for one man alone had spoken against it, Metellus the consul-designate. And yet that hero of ours, Cato, was going to speak, but on account of the shortness of the day the turn did not reach him. Thus I, preserving our principle and policy, safeguard, as far as I can, that concord which was cemented by me. But nevertheless, since those things are so insecure, a certain way is being fortified for us toward retaining our resources, a safe way, as I hope; which I cannot sufficiently explain to you in a letter, but I will nevertheless show by a slight indication. I am on the most intimate terms with Pompey. I see what you will say. I will be on guard against what must be guarded against, and I will write to you another time more fully about my plans for taking up public affairs. Know that Lucceius intends to stand for the consulship at once. For only two are said to be going to be candidates: Caesar (whom he thinks of joining with through Arrius) and Bibulus (with whom he thinks he can be united through Gaius Piso). You laugh? These things are not laughable, believe me. What else shall I write to you, what? There are many things, but for another time. If you wish me to wait [...], see that I know it. Now this I modestly ask, which I most greatly desire, that you come as soon as possible. On the fifth of December.
Your letter and the enclosed copy of one of my brother Quintus’ letters show me that he has continually changed his mind and wavered in his opinion and judgement. I am exceedingly disturbed
about it, as indeed I could not help being, considering my affection for both of you, and I wonder what can have happened to cause my brother Quintus such grave offence and to make him change his mind so extraordinarily. I grasped some time ago, what I think you were beginning to suspect, when you left, that at the bottom of it must be some idea of an insult, and that his feelings were wounded and some unpleasant suspicions had taken deep root. Though I often before sought to heal the wound, and redoubled my efforts after the allotment of his province, I could neither find that he was as much annoyed as your letter makes out, nor yet make as much headway with him as I wished. However, I used to console myself with the thought that he would be sure to see you either at Dyrrachium or somewhere thereabout. And I had quite made up my mind that when that occurred, all the difficulties between you would be smoothed over as much by the mere sight of one another and the pleasure of meeting as by conversation and discussion. For I need not tell you, who know it yourself, how amiable and kindly my brother Quintus is, and how sensitive he is and ready both to take offence and to forget it. But it has happened most unfortunately that you have not seen him anywhere. For the impression he has received from some designing persons has had more weight with him than either his duty or your old intimacy and affection which ought to have had the greatest weight of all. Where the blame for this unpleasantness rests, it is easier for me to imagine than to write. For I am afraid that in defending my relatives I may not spare yours. For my view is that, even if no wound was inflicted
by members of the family, they could certainly have healed the one which existed. But the real fault of the whole matter, which is of rather wider extent than it appears, I can explain to you more conveniently when we meet. As to the letter which he sent to you from Thessalonica and the language which you think he used about you both to your friends at Rome and on his journey, I cannot see any sufficient cause for them; but all my hope of removing this unpleasantness lies in your kindness. For if you can persuade yourself that the best of men are often those whose feelings are easy to arouse and easy to appease, and that this nimbleness, if I may use the word, and sensitiveness of disposition are generally signs of a good heart, and—what is the main point—that we must put up with one another’s unpleasantnesses and faults and insults, then, as I hope, all this can be smoothed over easily. This I beg of you to do. For, as I hold you in such peculiar esteem, it is my dearest wish that there may not be any of my people who either does not love you or is not loved by you.
That part of your letter in which you mention the chances of preferment in the provinces or in town, which you neglected in my consulship and at other times, was most unnecessary, for I am thoroughly persuaded of your disinterestedness and magnanimity, and I have never thought that there was any difference between you and me, except our choice of a career. A touch of ambition led me to seek for distinction, while another perfectly laudable motive led you to honourable ease. But in the real glory which consists in uprightness, industry and piety, there is no one I place above you, not even myself, and as
regards affection to myself, after my brother and my immediate connections, I give you the palm. For I have seen time after time, and have had thorough experience of your sorrow and your joy in my changing fortunes. I have often had the pleasure of your congratulations in times of triumph and the comfort of your consolation in hours of despondency. Nay at this very moment your absence makes me feel the lack not only of your advice, which you excel in giving, but of the interchange of speech, which I enjoy most with you. I hardly know if I miss it most in politics, where I dare not make a slip; or in my legal work, which I used to undertake for advancement’s sake and now keep up to preserve my position through popularity; or in my private concerns. In all of them I have felt your loss all along and especially since my brother’s departure. Finally, neither my work nor my recreation, neither my business nor my leisure, neither my legal affairs nor my domestic, my public life or my private, can do without your most agreeable and affectionate advice and conversation any longer.
The modesty of both of us has often prevented me from mentioning these facts: but now it was forced upon me by that part of your letter in which you say you want yourself and your character cleared and vindicated in my eyes. There is one good thing as regards the unpleasantness caused by his alienation and anger, that your determination not to go to the province was known to me and other friends of yours, as you told us some time before; so the fact that you are not with him cannot be attributed to your quarrel and rupture, but to your choice and plans already fixed. So amends will be made for
the breach of friendship; and the ties between us, which have been so religiously preserved, will retain their inviolability.
The political position here is wretched, rotten and unstable. I expect you have heard that our friends the knights have almost had a rupture with the Senate. The first point that seriously annoyed them was the publication of a senatorial decree for an investigation into any cases of bribery of jurymen. As I did not happen to be present when the decree was passed, and noticed that the knights were annoyed though they did not openly say so, I remonstrated with the Senate very impressively, I think, and spoke with great weight and fluency, considering how shameless the case was. Here is another intolerable piece of petulance on the part of the knights! Yet I have not only put up with it, but forwarded their cause. The people who farmed the province of Asia from the censors, complained in the Senate that their avariciousness had led them to pay too high a price for it, and requested to have the lease annulled. I was their chief supporter, or rather the second, for it was Crassus who encouraged them to venture on the demand. It is a scandalous affair, a disgraceful request and a confession of foolhardiness. There was considerable danger, that, if they met with a refusal, they might have severed their connection with the Senate entirely. In this case too I was the main person who came to the rescue, and obtained for them a hearing in a very full and friendly House, and discoursed freely on the dignity and harmony of the two orders both on the first of December and the following day. The matter is not yet settled: but the Senate’s inclination is clear. For one person
only has opposed it, Metellus the consul elect. Our hero Cato was to have spoken, but the day was too short for it to come to his turn. So I am keeping to our policy and plan, and am preserving to the best of my ability that harmony which I have welded: but still, as that is now in such a shaky condition, I am, I hope, keeping a road open to preserve my position. I cannot explain fully in a letter; but I will give you a gentle hint. I am on the best of terms with Pompey. You know what I mean. I will take all reasonable precautions, and will write again at fuller length as to my plans for managing the republic.
Lucceius is thinking of standing for the consulship at once: for only two candidates are spoken of as likely to come forward. With Caesar he thinks he may come to terms through Arrius, and Bibulus’ cooperation he hopes to win through C. Piso. You smile? There is nothing to laugh at, I assure you. Is there anything else I want to tell you? Anything else? Yes, lots of things, but another time ... you wish to wait (?), let me know. At present I have one modest request to make, though it is my chief desire: that you come as soon as possible.
5 December.
Magna mihi varietas voluntatis et dissimilitudo opinionis ac iudicii Quinti fratis mei demonstrata est ex litteris tuis, in quibus ad me epistularum illius exempla misisti. Qua ex re et molestia sum tanta adfectus, quantam mihi meus amor summus erga utrumque vestrum adferre debuit, et admiratione, quidnam accidisset, quod adferret Quinto fratri meo aut offensionem tam gravem aut commutationem tantam voluntatis. Atque illud a me iam ante intellegebatur, quod te quoque ipsum discedentem a nobis suspicari videbam, subesse nescio quid opinionis incommodae sauciumque esse eius animum et insedisse quasdam odiosas suspiciones. Quibus ego mederi cum cuperem antea saepe et vehementius etiam post sortitionem provinciae, nec tantum intellegebam ei esse offensionis, quantum litterae tuae declararant, nec tantum proficiebam, quantum volebam. Sed tamen hoc me ipse consolabar, quod non dubitabam, quin te ille aut Dyrrachi aut in istis locis uspiam visurus esset; quod cum accidisset, confidebam ac mihi persuaseram fore ut omnia placarentur inter vos non modo sermone ac disputatione, sed conspectu ipso congressuque vestro. Nam quanta sit in Quinto fratre meo comitas, quanta iucunditas, quam mollis animus et ad accipiendam et ad deponendam offensionem, nihil attinet me ad te, qui ea nosti, scribere. Sed accidit perincommode, quod eum nusquam vidisti. Valuit enim plus, quod erat illi non nullorum artificiis inculcatum, quam aut officium aut necessitudo aut amor vester ille pristinus, qui plurimum valere debuit. Atque huius incommodi culpa ubi resideat, facilius possum existimare quam scribere; vereor enim, ne, dum defendam meos, non parcam tuis. Nam sic intellego, ut nihil a domesticis vulneris factum sit, illud quidem, quod erat, eos certe sanare potuisse. Sed huiusce rei totius vitium, quod aliquanto etiam latius patet, quam videtur, praesenti tibi commodius exponam. De iis litteris, quas ad te Thessalonica misit, et de sermonibus, quos ab illo et Romae apud amicos tuos et in itinere habitos putas, ecquid tantum causae sit, ignoro, sed omnis in tua posita est humanitate mihi spes huius levandae molestiae. Nam, si ita statueris, et irritabiles animos esse optimorum saepe hominum et eosdem placabiles et esse hanc agilitatem, ut ita dicam, mollitiamque naturae plerumque bonitatis et, id quod caput est, nobis inter nos nostra sive incommoda sive vitia sive iniurias esse tolerandas, facile haec, quem ad modum spero, mitigabulltur; quod ego ut facias te oro. Nam ad me, qui te unice diligo, maxime pertinet neminem esse meorum, qui aut te non amet aut abs te non ametur. Illa pars epistulae tuae minime fuit necessaria, in qua exponis, quas facultates aut provincialium aut urbanorum commodorum et aliis temporibus et me ipso consule praetermiseris. Mihi enim perspecta est et ingenuitas et magnitudo animi tui; neque ego inter me atque te quicquam interesse umquam duxi praeter voluntatem institutae vitae, quod me ambitio quaedam ad honorum studium, te autem alia minime reprehendenda ratio ad honestum otium duxit. Vera quidem laude probitatis, diligentiae, religionis neque me tibi neque quemquam antcpono, amoris vero erga me. cum a fraterno amore domesticoque discessi, tibi primas defero. Vidi enim, vidi penitusque perspexi in meis variis temporibus et sollicitudines et laetitias tuas. Fuit mihi saepe et laudis nostrae gratulatio tua iucunda et timoris consolatio grata. Quin mihi nunc te absente non solum consilium, quo tu excellis, sed etiam sermonis communicatio, quae mihi suavissima tecum solet esse, maxime deest--quid dicam? in publicana re, quo in genere mihi neglegenti esse non licet, an in forensi labore, quem antea propter ambitionem sustinebam, nunc, ut dignitatem tueri gratia possim, an in ipsis domesticis negotiis, in quibus ego cum antea tum vero post discessum fratris te sermonesque nostros desidero? Postremo non labor meus, non requies, non negotium, non otium, non forenses res, non domesticae, non publicae, non privatae carere diutius tuo suavissimo atque amantissimo consilio ac sermone possunt. Atque harum rerum commemorationem verecundia saepe impedivit utriusque nostrum; nunc autem ea fuit necessaria propter eam partem epistulae tuae, per quam te ac mores tuos mihi purgatos ac probatos esse voluisti. Atque in ista incommoditate alienati illius animi et offensi illud inest tamen commodi, quod et mihi et ceteris amicis tuis nota fuit et abs te aliquanto ante testificata tua voluntas omittendae provinciae, ut, quod una non estis, non dissensione ac discidio vestro, sed voluntate ac iudicio tuo factum esse videatur. Quare et illa, quae violata, expiabuntur, et haec nostra, quae sunt sanctissime conservata, suarm religionem obtinebunt. Nos hic in re publica infirma, misera commutabili que versamur. Credo enim te audisse nostros equites paene a senatu esse diiunctos; qui primum illud valde graviter tulerunt, promulgatum ex senatus consulto fuisse, ut de eis, qui ob iudicandum accepissent, quaereretur. Qua in re decernenda cum ego casu non adfuissem, sensissemque id equestrem ordinem ferre moleste neque aperte dicere, obiurgavi senatum, ut mihi visus sum, summa cum auctoritate, et in causa non verecunda admodum gravis et copiosus fui. Ecce aliae deliciae equitum vix ferendae! quas ego non solum tuli, sed etiam ornavi. Asiam qui de censoribus conduxerunt, questi sunt in senatu se cupiditate prolapsos nimium magno conduxisse, ut induceretur locatio, postulaverunt. Ego princeps in adiutoribus atque adeo secundus; nam, ut illi auderent hos postulare, Crassus eos impulit. Invidiosa res, turpis postulatio et confessio temeritatis. Summum erat periculum, ne, si nihil impetrassent, plane alienarentur a senatu. Huic quoque rei subventum est maxime a nobis perfectumque, ut frequentissimo senatu et libentissimo uterentur multaque a me de ordinum dignitate et concordia dicta sunt Kal. Decembr. et postridie. Neque adhuc res confecta est, sed voluntas senatus perspecta; unus enim contra dixerat Metellus consul designatus. Atqui erat dicturus, ad quem propter diei brevitatem perventum non est, heros ille noster Cato. Sic ego conservans rationem institutionemque nostram tueor, ut possum, illam a me conglutinatam concordiam. Sed tamen, quoniam ista sunt tam infirma, munitur quaedam nobis ad retinendas opes nostras tuta, ut spero, via; quam tibi litteris satis explicare non possum, significatione parva ostendam tamen. Utor Pompeio familiarissime. Video, quid dicas. Cavebo, quae sunt cavenda, ac scribam alias ad te de meis consiliis capessendae rei publicae plura. Lucceium scito consulatum habere in animo statim petere. Duo enim soli dicuntur petituri, Caesar (cum eo coire per Arrium cogitat) et Bibulus (cum hoc se putat per C. Pisonem posse coniungi). Rides? Non sunt haec ridicula, mihi crede. Quid aliud scribam ad te, quid? Multa sunt, sed in aliud tempus. + exspectare velis, cures ut sciam. Iam illud modeste rogo, quod maxime cupio, ut quam primum venias. Nonis Decembribus.
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A great fluctuation of feeling and a divergence in the opinion and judgment of my brother Quintus has been shown to me by your letter, in which you sent me copies of his letters. From this circumstance I have been afflicted both with as much distress as my supreme affection toward each of you was bound to bring upon me, and with astonishment at what could possibly have happened that would bring upon my brother Quintus either so grave a sense of grievance or so great a change of feeling. And that very thing was already understood by me beforehand, since I observed that you yourself, when you were departing from us, suspected it too: that some uncomfortable opinion lay underneath, and that his mind was wounded, and that certain hateful suspicions had taken root in it. Although I had desired to remedy these often before, and even more vehemently after the allotment of his province, I neither understood that there was as much grievance in him as your letter has declared, nor did I make as much progress as I wished. But nevertheless I consoled myself with this, that I did not doubt that he would see you either at Dyrrachium or somewhere in those regions; and when that had happened, I felt confident, and had persuaded myself, that all things would be reconciled between you, not only by conversation and discussion, but by the very sight and meeting of one another. For how great is the courtesy in my brother Quintus, how great the agreeableness, how soft a temper both for taking on and for laying aside a grievance, it is not at all necessary for me to write to you, who know these things. But it has turned out most inconveniently that you saw him nowhere. For what had been driven into him by the artifices of certain persons prevailed more than either your sense of duty, or your close bond, or that old affection of yours, which ought to have prevailed most of all. And where the blame for this misfortune resides, I can more easily judge than write; for I fear that, while I defend my own people, I may not spare yours. For I understand this much: that even granting that no wound was inflicted by those of his household, those persons could certainly have healed the one that did exist. But the fault of this whole matter, which extends somewhat more widely too than it appears, I shall set forth to you more conveniently when you are present. Concerning that letter which he sent you from Thessalonica, and concerning the conversations which you suppose he held about you both at Rome among your friends and on the journey, I do not know whether there is so much cause for it; but all my hope of relieving this distress is placed in your kindness. For if you decide thus, that the minds of the best men are often irritable and the same men also easily appeased, and that this responsiveness, so to speak, and softness of nature is for the most part a sign of goodness, and -- which is the chief point -- that between ourselves our mutual discomforts, or faults, or wrongs must be tolerated, these things will easily be soothed, as I hope; and I beg you to do this. For it is of the greatest concern to me, who hold you uniquely dear, that there should be none of my own people who either does not love you or is not loved by you. That part of your letter was least necessary, in which you set forth what advantages, either of provincial or of urban profits, you passed over both at other times and when I myself was consul. For your generosity of nature and your greatness of mind are thoroughly known to me; nor did I ever consider that there was any difference between me and you except in the choice of the manner of life we had each adopted, since a certain ambition led me to a zeal for honors, while another, by no means blameworthy, principle led you to honorable leisure. In the true praise of integrity, of diligence, of conscientiousness, I rank neither myself nor anyone above you; but in affection toward me, when I have set aside the affection of a brother and of family, I assign the first place to you. For I have seen, I have seen and thoroughly perceived in my own various circumstances both your anxieties and your joys. Often your congratulation upon our praise has been delightful to me, and your consolation in fear welcome. Indeed, now in your absence I most of all lack not only your counsel, in which you excel, but also that sharing of conversation which is wont to be most sweet to me with you -- about what shall I say? about public affairs of revenue, in which kind of matter I am not permitted to be negligent, or about the labor of the forum, which I formerly sustained on account of ambition, but now sustain so that I may be able by my influence to safeguard my dignity, or about my domestic affairs themselves, in which both before, and indeed truly since my brother's departure, I miss you and our conversations? In short, not my labor, nor my repose, nor business, nor leisure, nor forensic matters, nor domestic ones, nor public, nor private, can any longer do without your most sweet and most loving counsel and conversation. And the modesty of each of us has often hindered the mention of these things; but now it has become necessary on account of that part of your letter through which you wished your conduct and your character to be cleared and approved in my eyes. And in that inconvenience of his alienated and offended mind there is nevertheless this advantage, that your wish to give up your province was known both to me and to your other friends, and had been attested by you some time before, so that the fact that you are not together may appear to have come about not from any disagreement and rupture between you, but from your own wish and judgment. Wherefore both those bonds which have been violated will be expiated, and these our own bonds, which have been most scrupulously preserved, will keep their sacred obligation. We here are engaged in a republic that is weak, wretched, and changeable. For I believe you have heard that our equestrians have been almost separated from the senate; who first took it very grievously that it had been promulgated, in accordance with a decree of the senate, that inquiry should be made concerning those who had taken bribes for giving judgment. In the decreeing of this matter, since by chance I had not been present, and had perceived that the equestrian order took it ill, though it did not say so openly, I rebuked the senate, as it seemed to me, with the highest authority, and in a cause not very respectable I was weighty and copious. Behold, another caprice of the equestrians scarcely to be endured! which I not only endured, but even adorned. Those who had contracted from the censors for the revenues of Asia complained in the senate that, carried away by eagerness, they had contracted at too high a price, and demanded that the contract be cancelled. I was the foremost among the supporters, or rather the second; for it was Crassus who incited them to dare to make this demand. An invidious affair, a disgraceful demand, and a confession of rashness. There was the greatest danger that, if they obtained nothing, they would be utterly alienated from the senate. This matter too was relieved chiefly by us, and it was brought about that they enjoyed a very full and very well-disposed senate, and many things were said by me concerning the dignity and concord of the orders on the first of December and the day after. Nor is the matter yet finished, but the will of the senate has been clearly perceived; for one man alone had spoken against it, Metellus the consul-designate. And yet that hero of ours, Cato, was going to speak, but on account of the shortness of the day the turn did not reach him. Thus I, preserving our principle and policy, safeguard, as far as I can, that concord which was cemented by me. But nevertheless, since those things are so insecure, a certain way is being fortified for us toward retaining our resources, a safe way, as I hope; which I cannot sufficiently explain to you in a letter, but I will nevertheless show by a slight indication. I am on the most intimate terms with Pompey. I see what you will say. I will be on guard against what must be guarded against, and I will write to you another time more fully about my plans for taking up public affairs. Know that Lucceius intends to stand for the consulship at once. For only two are said to be going to be candidates: Caesar (whom he thinks of joining with through Arrius) and Bibulus (with whom he thinks he can be united through Gaius Piso). You laugh? These things are not laughable, believe me. What else shall I write to you, what? There are many things, but for another time. If you wish me to wait [...], see that I know it. Now this I modestly ask, which I most greatly desire, that you come as soon as possible. On the fifth of December.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
Magna mihi varietas voluntatis et dissimilitudo opinionis ac iudicii Quinti fratis mei demonstrata est ex litteris tuis, in quibus ad me epistularum illius exempla misisti. Qua ex re et molestia sum tanta adfectus, quantam mihi meus amor summus erga utrumque vestrum adferre debuit, et admiratione, quidnam accidisset, quod adferret Quinto fratri meo aut offensionem tam gravem aut commutationem tantam voluntatis. Atque illud a me iam ante intellegebatur, quod te quoque ipsum discedentem a nobis suspicari videbam, subesse nescio quid opinionis incommodae sauciumque esse eius animum et insedisse quasdam odiosas suspiciones. Quibus ego mederi cum cuperem antea saepe et vehementius etiam post sortitionem provinciae, nec tantum intellegebam ei esse offensionis, quantum litterae tuae declararant, nec tantum proficiebam, quantum volebam. Sed tamen hoc me ipse consolabar, quod non dubitabam, quin te ille aut Dyrrachi aut in istis locis uspiam visurus esset; quod cum accidisset, confidebam ac mihi persuaseram fore ut omnia placarentur inter vos non modo sermone ac disputatione, sed conspectu ipso congressuque vestro. Nam quanta sit in Quinto fratre meo comitas, quanta iucunditas, quam mollis animus et ad accipiendam et ad deponendam offensionem, nihil attinet me ad te, qui ea nosti, scribere. Sed accidit perincommode, quod eum nusquam vidisti. Valuit enim plus, quod erat illi non nullorum artificiis inculcatum, quam aut officium aut necessitudo aut amor vester ille pristinus, qui plurimum valere debuit. Atque huius incommodi culpa ubi resideat, facilius possum existimare quam scribere; vereor enim, ne, dum defendam meos, non parcam tuis. Nam sic intellego, ut nihil a domesticis vulneris factum sit, illud quidem, quod erat, eos certe sanare potuisse. Sed huiusce rei totius vitium, quod aliquanto etiam latius patet, quam videtur, praesenti tibi commodius exponam. De iis litteris, quas ad te Thessalonica misit, et de sermonibus, quos ab illo et Romae apud amicos tuos et in itinere habitos putas, ecquid tantum causae sit, ignoro, sed omnis in tua posita est humanitate mihi spes huius levandae molestiae. Nam, si ita statueris, et irritabiles animos esse optimorum saepe hominum et eosdem placabiles et esse hanc agilitatem, ut ita dicam, mollitiamque naturae plerumque bonitatis et, id quod caput est, nobis inter nos nostra sive incommoda sive vitia sive iniurias esse tolerandas, facile haec, quem ad modum spero, mitigabulltur; quod ego ut facias te oro. Nam ad me, qui te unice diligo, maxime pertinet neminem esse meorum, qui aut te non amet aut abs te non ametur. Illa pars epistulae tuae minime fuit necessaria, in qua exponis, quas facultates aut provincialium aut urbanorum commodorum et aliis temporibus et me ipso consule praetermiseris. Mihi enim perspecta est et ingenuitas et magnitudo animi tui; neque ego inter me atque te quicquam interesse umquam duxi praeter voluntatem institutae vitae, quod me ambitio quaedam ad honorum studium, te autem alia minime reprehendenda ratio ad honestum otium duxit. Vera quidem laude probitatis, diligentiae, religionis neque me tibi neque quemquam antcpono, amoris vero erga me. cum a fraterno amore domesticoque discessi, tibi primas defero. Vidi enim, vidi penitusque perspexi in meis variis temporibus et sollicitudines et laetitias tuas. Fuit mihi saepe et laudis nostrae gratulatio tua iucunda et timoris consolatio grata. Quin mihi nunc te absente non solum consilium, quo tu excellis, sed etiam sermonis communicatio, quae mihi suavissima tecum solet esse, maxime deest--quid dicam? in publicana re, quo in genere mihi neglegenti esse non licet, an in forensi labore, quem antea propter ambitionem sustinebam, nunc, ut dignitatem tueri gratia possim, an in ipsis domesticis negotiis, in quibus ego cum antea tum vero post discessum fratris te sermonesque nostros desidero? Postremo non labor meus, non requies, non negotium, non otium, non forenses res, non domesticae, non publicae, non privatae carere diutius tuo suavissimo atque amantissimo consilio ac sermone possunt. Atque harum rerum commemorationem verecundia saepe impedivit utriusque nostrum; nunc autem ea fuit necessaria propter eam partem epistulae tuae, per quam te ac mores tuos mihi purgatos ac probatos esse voluisti. Atque in ista incommoditate alienati illius animi et offensi illud inest tamen commodi, quod et mihi et ceteris amicis tuis nota fuit et abs te aliquanto ante testificata tua voluntas omittendae provinciae, ut, quod una non estis, non dissensione ac discidio vestro, sed voluntate ac iudicio tuo factum esse videatur. Quare et illa, quae violata, expiabuntur, et haec nostra, quae sunt sanctissime conservata, suarm religionem obtinebunt. Nos hic in re publica infirma, misera commutabili que versamur. Credo enim te audisse nostros equites paene a senatu esse diiunctos; qui primum illud valde graviter tulerunt, promulgatum ex senatus consulto fuisse, ut de eis, qui ob iudicandum accepissent, quaereretur. Qua in re decernenda cum ego casu non adfuissem, sensissemque id equestrem ordinem ferre moleste neque aperte dicere, obiurgavi senatum, ut mihi visus sum, summa cum auctoritate, et in causa non verecunda admodum gravis et copiosus fui. Ecce aliae deliciae equitum vix ferendae! quas ego non solum tuli, sed etiam ornavi. Asiam qui de censoribus conduxerunt, questi sunt in senatu se cupiditate prolapsos nimium magno conduxisse, ut induceretur locatio, postulaverunt. Ego princeps in adiutoribus atque adeo secundus; nam, ut illi auderent hos postulare, Crassus eos impulit. Invidiosa res, turpis postulatio et confessio temeritatis. Summum erat periculum, ne, si nihil impetrassent, plane alienarentur a senatu. Huic quoque rei subventum est maxime a nobis perfectumque, ut frequentissimo senatu et libentissimo uterentur multaque a me de ordinum dignitate et concordia dicta sunt Kal. Decembr. et postridie. Neque adhuc res confecta est, sed voluntas senatus perspecta; unus enim contra dixerat Metellus consul designatus. Atqui erat dicturus, ad quem propter diei brevitatem perventum non est, heros ille noster Cato. Sic ego conservans rationem institutionemque nostram tueor, ut possum, illam a me conglutinatam concordiam. Sed tamen, quoniam ista sunt tam infirma, munitur quaedam nobis ad retinendas opes nostras tuta, ut spero, via; quam tibi litteris satis explicare non possum, significatione parva ostendam tamen. Utor Pompeio familiarissime. Video, quid dicas. Cavebo, quae sunt cavenda, ac scribam alias ad te de meis consiliis capessendae rei publicae plura. Lucceium scito consulatum habere in animo statim petere. Duo enim soli dicuntur petituri, Caesar (cum eo coire per Arrium cogitat) et Bibulus (cum hoc se putat per C. Pisonem posse coniungi). Rides? Non sunt haec ridicula, mihi crede. Quid aliud scribam ad te, quid? Multa sunt, sed in aliud tempus. + exspectare velis, cures ut sciam. Iam illud modeste rogo, quod maxime cupio, ut quam primum venias. Nonis Decembribus.