Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 49 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
I had written you a letter to send on March 12, but the man I meant to give it to did not set out that day. On that very day, however, the "quick-footed" man Salvius had mentioned arrived. He brought your very full letter, which poured something like a little breath of life into me. I cannot say I was restored, but you plainly did what held me together. Believe me, I am no longer acting with a view to some favorable outcome. I see clearly that, while these two men live, or even while this one man lives, we shall never have a republic. So I no longer hope for quiet for myself, and I reject no bitterness as impossible. The one thing I dreaded was doing anything disgraceful, or rather, now I should say, having done it already.
So take this as certain: you sent me a saving letter. Not only the longer one, which could not be more explicit or complete, but also the shorter one, in which what pleased me most was that Sextus approved my plan and my action. You did me a very great kindness there. I know both that he loves me and that he understands what is right. Your longer letter relieved not only me but all my household of distress. So I will use your advice and stay at Formiae, so that my meeting with Caesar near Rome may not attract notice, and so that, if I see him neither here nor there, he may not think I have avoided him.
As for your advice that I ask him to allow me to give Pompey the same consideration I gave him, you will understand from the letters of Balbus and Oppius, copies of which I sent you, that I have long been doing just that. I also sent Caesar's letter to them, written sanely enough, considering such general madness. But if Caesar does not grant this to me, I see that you approve of my taking up a political role on behalf of peace. In that I am not terrified by danger. Since so many dangers hang over us, why would I not prefer to buy them off by taking the most honorable one? But I fear I may put some burden on Pompey and make him turn on me the Gorgon's head of the dreadful monster. Our Pompey has longed, astonishingly, for something like Sulla's monarchy. I am telling you what I know. He has never concealed it less.
"Then do you want to be with him?" you will ask. Believe me, I am following a benefit, not a cause, as in Milo's case, as in... but enough. "So the cause is not good?" No, it is the best cause, but remember that it will be conducted in the foulest way. The first plan is to choke Rome and Italy with famine; then to ravage and burn the countryside; and not to keep hands off the money of the rich. But since I fear the same things from Caesar's side too, if there were no benefit from Pompey, I would think it better to endure anything at home. As it is, I think he has deserved so much from me that I dare not risk the charge of ingratitude, though you too have explained a proper defense even on that point.
About my triumph I agree with you. I could easily and gladly throw the whole thing away. I especially approve your thought that, while I am wandering, a seasonable sailing may slip upon me. "If only he is firm enough," you say. He is even firmer than we thought. You may hope well on that score. I promise you, if he is strong enough, he will not leave a roof tile in Italy. "Will you join him, then?" By heaven, against my own judgment and against the authority of all the ancients, I want to leave, not so much to help that side as to avoid seeing this one. Please do not think the madness of these men will be bearable, or of only one kind. What escapes you here? With laws, courts, and the Senate abolished, private fortunes and the republic alike cannot sustain the lusts, recklessness, expenses, and destitution of so many desperate men. So let us go away by any kind of voyage. Let it be as you think best, but let us certainly go. We shall know what you are waiting for, namely what happened at Brundisium.
I am very glad, if there is now any room for gladness, that you say good men approve what I have done so far and know that I have not gone away. I will investigate Lentulus more carefully. I have entrusted the matter to Philotimus, a brave man and much too much of an optimate.
The last point is that perhaps you now lack a subject for writing. There is nothing else one can write about, and what more can be found to say about this? But since your talent supplies material, and I say this, by heaven, exactly as I feel, and since affection also stirs my own talent, go on as you are doing and write as much as you can. I am a little annoyed that you do not invite me to Epirus as a companion who would not be troublesome. But farewell. You need your walk and your oiling; I need sleep. Your letter has brought me sleep.
I wrote you a letter dated the 12th of March, but on that day the man to whom I meant to give it did not set out. However, on that very day there arrived that "sprinter," as Salvius called him, bringing your very full epistle which has put just a drop of life into me, for recovered I cannot profess to be. Clearly you have done the one thing needful. Believe me I am not acting now with a view to a lucky issue; for I see that we can never enjoy a Republic while these two men live, or this one alone. So I
have no hope of ease for myself and I do not refuse to contemplate as possible any bitterness. The one thing I dread is doing, or, perhaps I should say, having done, anything disgraceful.
So please consider that your letter was good for me, and not only the longer, most explicit and perfect epistle, but also the shorter, in which the most delightful thing was to find that my policy and action is approved by Sextus. You have done me a great kindness.... Of his affection and sense of honour I am sure. But that longer letter of yours has relieved not only me but all my friends from our sorry state: so I will follow your advice and remain in the villa at Formiae, that my meeting with Caesar outside the city may not excite comment, or, if I do not meet him either here or there, I may not lead him to think I have shunned him. As for your advice to ask him to allow me to pay Pompey the same homage as I did to him, you will understand I have been doing that long since, when you see the copies I forward of letters of Balbus and Oppius. I send also a letter addressed by Caesar to them, which is sane enough considering these mad times. But, if Caesar should refuse my request, I see that you think I should undertake to be a peace-maker. In that rôle I do not fear danger—for, with so many dangers overhanging, why should I not compound by taking the most respectable—but I fear lest I may embarrass Pompey, and he fix on me "the Gorgon gaze of his dread eye." It is wonderful to see how Pompey desires to imitate Sulla's reign. I know what I am saying. He has made no secret of it. Then why
do I wish to be associated with such a man? Believe me I follow gratitude, not a cause [and I did in the case of Milo and in.... But enough of this.] "Then the cause is not good?" Yes, the best in the world; but remember it will be handled in the most disgraceful way. The first plan is to throttle Rome and Italy and starve them, then to lay waste and burn the country, and not to keep hands off the riches of the wealthy. But, since I have the same fears on Caesar's side too, if it were not for favours on the other side, I should think it better to stay in Rome and suffer what comes. But so bounden do I consider myself to Pompey that I cannot endure to risk the charge of ingratitude. But you have said all that can be said for that course too.
About my triumph I agree with you. I can throw it away willingly and with ease. I am delighted with your remark that it may be, while I am considering, "the chance to sail" may arise. "Yes," you say, "if only Pompey is firm enough." He is more firm than I imagined. In him you may be confident. I promise you, if he succeeds, he will not leave a tile in Italy. "Will you help him, then?" By heaven, against my own judgement and against all the lessons of the past I desire to depart, not so much that I may help Pompey, as that I may not see what is being done here. For please do not think that the madness of these parties will be endurable or of one kind. However, it is obvious to you that when laws, juries, courts and Senate are abolished, neither private nor public resources will be able to bear up against the lusts, daring, extravagance and necessity of so many needy men. So let me depart on any kind of voyage: be it whatever you will, only let me depart.
For I shall know the news you are waiting for, what has happened at Brundisium.
If, as you say, my conduct hitherto has been approved by the loyal party and they are aware I have not gone away, I am very glad indeed, if now there is any place for gladness. As for Lentulus I will make more careful inquiries. I have entrusted the matter to Philotimus, a man of courage and excessive loyalty.
The last thing I have to say is, that perhaps you lack a theme for your letters—for one can write on no other topic, and what more can be said on this? But since there is plenty of ability in you (and upon my soul I speak as I feel) and affection which also spurs my own wit, go on as you are doing and write as much as you can.
I am rather annoyed that you do not invite me as your guest to Epirus when you know I should give you no trouble. But good-bye. You want your walk and perfumery and I want my sleep: for your letter has induced sleep.
[1] scripseram ad te epistulam quam darem iiii Idus. sed eo die is cui dare volueram non est profectus. venit autem eo ipso die ille 'celeripes' quem Salvius dixerat. attulit uberrimas tuas litteras; quae mihi quiddam quasi animulae instillarunt; recreatum enim me non queo dicere. sed plane to sunechon effecisti. ego enim non iam id ago, mihi crede, ut prosperos exitus consequar. sic enim video, nec duobus his vivis nec hoc uno nos umquam rem publicam habituros. ita neque de otio nostro spero iam nec ullam acerbitatem recuso. Vnum illud extimescebam, ne quid turpiter facerem vel dicam iam ne fecissem. [2] sic ergo habeto, salutaris te mihi litteras misisse neque solum has longiores quibus nihil potest esse explicatius, nihil perfectius, sed etiam illas breviores in quibus hoc mihi iucundissimum fuit, consilium factumque nostrum a Sexto probari, pergratumque mihi tu . . . fecisti; a quo et diligi me et quid rectum sit intellegi scio. longior vero tua epistula non me solum sed meos omnis aegritudine levavit. itaque utar tuo consilio et ero in Formiano, ne aut ad urbem apantesis mea animadvertatur aut, si nec hic nec illic eum videro, devitatum se a me putet. [3] quod autem suades ut ab eo petam ut mihi concedat ut idem tribuam Pompeio quod ipsi tribuerim, id me iam pridem agere intelleges ex litteris Balbi et Oppi quarum exempla tibi misi. misi etiam Caesaris ad eos sana mente scriptas quo modo in tanta insania. sin mihi Caesar hoc non concedat, video tibi placere illud, me politeuma de pace suscipere; in quo non extimesco periculum (cum enim tot impendeant, cur non honestissimo depecisci velim?) sed vereor ne Pompeio quid oneris imponam, me moi gorgeien kephalen deinoio pelorou intorqueat. mirandum enim in modum Gnaeus noster Sullani regni similitudinem concupivit. eidos soi lego. nihil ille umquam minus obscure tulit. 'Cum hocne igitur' inquies 'esse vis?' beneficium sequor, mihi crede, non causam, ut in Milone, ut in . . . sed hactenus. 'causa igitur non bona est?' [4] immo optima, sed agetur, memento, foedissime. primum consilium est suffocare urbem et Italiam fame, deinde agros vastare, urere, pecuniis locupletum non abstinere. sed cum eadem metuam ab hac parte, si illim beneficium non sit, rectius putem quidvis domi perpeti. sed ita meruisse illum de me puto ut acharistias crimen subire non audeam, quamquam a te eius quoque rei iusta defensio est explicata. [5] de triumpho tibi adsentior quem quidem totum facile et libenter abiecero. Egregie probo fore ut, dum vagamur, ploos horaios obrepat. 'si modo' inquis 'satis ille erit firmus.' est firmior etiam quam putabamus. de isto licet bene speres. promitto tibi, si valebit, tegulam illum in Italia nullam relicturum. 'Tene igitur socio?' contra me hercule meum iudicium et contra omnium antiquorum auctoritatem, nec tam ut illa adiuvem quam ut haec ne videam cupio discedere. noli enim putare tolerabilis horum insanias nec unius modi fore. etsi quid te horum fugit, legibus, iudiciis, senatu sublato libidines, audacias, sumptus, egestates tot egentissimorum hominum nec privatas posse res nec rem publicam sustinere? abeamus igitur inde qualibet navigatione; etsi id quidem ut tibi videbitur, sed certe abeamus. sciemus enim, id quod exspectas, quid Brundisi actum sit. [6] bonis viris quod ais probari quae adhuc fecerimus scirique ab iis (nos) non profectos valde gaudeo, si est nunc ullus gaudendi locus. de Lentulo investigabo diligentius. id mandavi Philotimo, homini forti ac nimium optimati. [7] extremum est ut tibi argumentum ad scribendum fortasse iam desit. nec enim alia de re nunc ulla scribi potest, et de hac quid iam amplius inveniri potest? sed quoniam et ingenium suppeditat (dico me hercule ut sentio) et amor quo et meum ingenium incitatur, perge, ut facis, et scribe quantum potes. in Epirum quod me non invitas, comitem non molestum, subirascor. sed vale. nam ut tibi ambulandum, ungendum, sic mihi dormiendum. etenim litterae tuae mihi somnum attulerunt
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I had written you a letter to send on March 12, but the man I meant to give it to did not set out that day. On that very day, however, the "quick-footed" man Salvius had mentioned arrived. He brought your very full letter, which poured something like a little breath of life into me. I cannot say I was restored, but you plainly did what held me together. Believe me, I am no longer acting with a view to some favorable outcome. I see clearly that, while these two men live, or even while this one man lives, we shall never have a republic. So I no longer hope for quiet for myself, and I reject no bitterness as impossible. The one thing I dreaded was doing anything disgraceful, or rather, now I should say, having done it already.
So take this as certain: you sent me a saving letter. Not only the longer one, which could not be more explicit or complete, but also the shorter one, in which what pleased me most was that Sextus approved my plan and my action. You did me a very great kindness there. I know both that he loves me and that he understands what is right. Your longer letter relieved not only me but all my household of distress. So I will use your advice and stay at Formiae, so that my meeting with Caesar near Rome may not attract notice, and so that, if I see him neither here nor there, he may not think I have avoided him.
As for your advice that I ask him to allow me to give Pompey the same consideration I gave him, you will understand from the letters of Balbus and Oppius, copies of which I sent you, that I have long been doing just that. I also sent Caesar's letter to them, written sanely enough, considering such general madness. But if Caesar does not grant this to me, I see that you approve of my taking up a political role on behalf of peace. In that I am not terrified by danger. Since so many dangers hang over us, why would I not prefer to buy them off by taking the most honorable one? But I fear I may put some burden on Pompey and make him turn on me the Gorgon's head of the dreadful monster. Our Pompey has longed, astonishingly, for something like Sulla's monarchy. I am telling you what I know. He has never concealed it less.
"Then do you want to be with him?" you will ask. Believe me, I am following a benefit, not a cause, as in Milo's case, as in... but enough. "So the cause is not good?" No, it is the best cause, but remember that it will be conducted in the foulest way. The first plan is to choke Rome and Italy with famine; then to ravage and burn the countryside; and not to keep hands off the money of the rich. But since I fear the same things from Caesar's side too, if there were no benefit from Pompey, I would think it better to endure anything at home. As it is, I think he has deserved so much from me that I dare not risk the charge of ingratitude, though you too have explained a proper defense even on that point.
About my triumph I agree with you. I could easily and gladly throw the whole thing away. I especially approve your thought that, while I am wandering, a seasonable sailing may slip upon me. "If only he is firm enough," you say. He is even firmer than we thought. You may hope well on that score. I promise you, if he is strong enough, he will not leave a roof tile in Italy. "Will you join him, then?" By heaven, against my own judgment and against the authority of all the ancients, I want to leave, not so much to help that side as to avoid seeing this one. Please do not think the madness of these men will be bearable, or of only one kind. What escapes you here? With laws, courts, and the Senate abolished, private fortunes and the republic alike cannot sustain the lusts, recklessness, expenses, and destitution of so many desperate men. So let us go away by any kind of voyage. Let it be as you think best, but let us certainly go. We shall know what you are waiting for, namely what happened at Brundisium.
I am very glad, if there is now any room for gladness, that you say good men approve what I have done so far and know that I have not gone away. I will investigate Lentulus more carefully. I have entrusted the matter to Philotimus, a brave man and much too much of an optimate.
The last point is that perhaps you now lack a subject for writing. There is nothing else one can write about, and what more can be found to say about this? But since your talent supplies material, and I say this, by heaven, exactly as I feel, and since affection also stirs my own talent, go on as you are doing and write as much as you can. I am a little annoyed that you do not invite me to Epirus as a companion who would not be troublesome. But farewell. You need your walk and your oiling; I need sleep. Your letter has brought me sleep.
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
[1] scripseram ad te epistulam quam darem iiii Idus. sed eo die is cui dare volueram non est profectus. venit autem eo ipso die ille 'celeripes' quem Salvius dixerat. attulit uberrimas tuas litteras; quae mihi quiddam quasi animulae instillarunt; recreatum enim me non queo dicere. sed plane to sunechon effecisti. ego enim non iam id ago, mihi crede, ut prosperos exitus consequar. sic enim video, nec duobus his vivis nec hoc uno nos umquam rem publicam habituros. ita neque de otio nostro spero iam nec ullam acerbitatem recuso. Vnum illud extimescebam, ne quid turpiter facerem vel dicam iam ne fecissem. [2] sic ergo habeto, salutaris te mihi litteras misisse neque solum has longiores quibus nihil potest esse explicatius, nihil perfectius, sed etiam illas breviores in quibus hoc mihi iucundissimum fuit, consilium factumque nostrum a Sexto probari, pergratumque mihi tu . . . fecisti; a quo et diligi me et quid rectum sit intellegi scio. longior vero tua epistula non me solum sed meos omnis aegritudine levavit. itaque utar tuo consilio et ero in Formiano, ne aut ad urbem apantesis mea animadvertatur aut, si nec hic nec illic eum videro, devitatum se a me putet. [3] quod autem suades ut ab eo petam ut mihi concedat ut idem tribuam Pompeio quod ipsi tribuerim, id me iam pridem agere intelleges ex litteris Balbi et Oppi quarum exempla tibi misi. misi etiam Caesaris ad eos sana mente scriptas quo modo in tanta insania. sin mihi Caesar hoc non concedat, video tibi placere illud, me politeuma de pace suscipere; in quo non extimesco periculum (cum enim tot impendeant, cur non honestissimo depecisci velim?) sed vereor ne Pompeio quid oneris imponam, me moi gorgeien kephalen deinoio pelorou intorqueat. mirandum enim in modum Gnaeus noster Sullani regni similitudinem concupivit. eidos soi lego. nihil ille umquam minus obscure tulit. 'Cum hocne igitur' inquies 'esse vis?' beneficium sequor, mihi crede, non causam, ut in Milone, ut in . . . sed hactenus. 'causa igitur non bona est?' [4] immo optima, sed agetur, memento, foedissime. primum consilium est suffocare urbem et Italiam fame, deinde agros vastare, urere, pecuniis locupletum non abstinere. sed cum eadem metuam ab hac parte, si illim beneficium non sit, rectius putem quidvis domi perpeti. sed ita meruisse illum de me puto ut acharistias crimen subire non audeam, quamquam a te eius quoque rei iusta defensio est explicata. [5] de triumpho tibi adsentior quem quidem totum facile et libenter abiecero. Egregie probo fore ut, dum vagamur, ploos horaios obrepat. 'si modo' inquis 'satis ille erit firmus.' est firmior etiam quam putabamus. de isto licet bene speres. promitto tibi, si valebit, tegulam illum in Italia nullam relicturum. 'Tene igitur socio?' contra me hercule meum iudicium et contra omnium antiquorum auctoritatem, nec tam ut illa adiuvem quam ut haec ne videam cupio discedere. noli enim putare tolerabilis horum insanias nec unius modi fore. etsi quid te horum fugit, legibus, iudiciis, senatu sublato libidines, audacias, sumptus, egestates tot egentissimorum hominum nec privatas posse res nec rem publicam sustinere? abeamus igitur inde qualibet navigatione; etsi id quidem ut tibi videbitur, sed certe abeamus. sciemus enim, id quod exspectas, quid Brundisi actum sit. [6] bonis viris quod ais probari quae adhuc fecerimus scirique ab iis (nos) non profectos valde gaudeo, si est nunc ullus gaudendi locus. de Lentulo investigabo diligentius. id mandavi Philotimo, homini forti ac nimium optimati. [7] extremum est ut tibi argumentum ad scribendum fortasse iam desit. nec enim alia de re nunc ulla scribi potest, et de hac quid iam amplius inveniri potest? sed quoniam et ingenium suppeditat (dico me hercule ut sentio) et amor quo et meum ingenium incitatur, perge, ut facis, et scribe quantum potes. in Epirum quod me non invitas, comitem non molestum, subirascor. sed vale. nam ut tibi ambulandum, ungendum, sic mihi dormiendum. etenim litterae tuae mihi somnum attulerunt