Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 49 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
The facts themselves advised it, you had pointed it out, and I saw it too: it is time for us to end our correspondence about matters that would be dangerous if intercepted. But since my Tullia often writes begging me to wait for what happens in Spain, and always adds that you think the same, and since I have understood as much from your own letters, I do not think it out of place to write what I think about it.
That advice would be prudent, in my view, if I were going to shape my own plans by the outcome in Spain. But that cannot be done. Either Caesar will be driven from Spain, which is what I most want, or the war will be prolonged, or Caesar, as he seems confident, will seize the Spains. If he is driven out, how welcome or honorable will my arrival then be to Pompey, when I think even Curio will go over to him? If the war drags on, what am I to wait for, and how long? The remaining alternative is that, if we are defeated in Spain, I should stay quiet. I think the opposite. I think Caesar must be left more when he is victorious than when he is defeated, more when he is doubtful than when he is confident.
If he wins, I see slaughter ahead, attacks on private fortunes, the recall of exiles, cancellation of debts, honors for the vilest men, and a monarchy not tolerable for any Persian, much less for a Roman. Will my indignation be able to keep silent? Will my eyes endure seeing myself give a vote beside Gabinius, and seeing him asked his opinion before me? Will I bear the presence of your client Clodius, Gaius Ateius' Plaguleius, and the rest? But why list enemies, when I will not be able to see my own friends, men I have defended, in the Senate without pain, or move among them without disgrace?
And what if even that is not certain to be allowed? Caesar's friends write to me that I have not satisfied him at all because I did not come to the Senate. Am I still to hesitate whether to sell myself to him, even with danger, when I refused to join him even with reward? Consider this too: Spain is not the final judgment of the whole struggle, unless perhaps you think Pompey will throw down his arms if the Spains are lost. His whole policy is Themistoclean. He believes that whoever holds the sea must hold power. He has never treated Spain as the first object in itself; his oldest and strongest concern has always been naval preparation. So when the time comes he will sail with the largest fleets and approach Italy. If we sit here, what shall we be then? We will no longer be allowed to be neutral.
Shall we oppose the fleets? What crime could be greater, or so great, or more shameful? I bore danger alone for the absent man; shall I not bear it with Pompey and the other leading men? If, after setting duty aside, I must consider only danger, the danger is from Pompey's side if I do wrong and from Caesar if I do right. In these evils no plan can be found free of danger, so there is no doubt that we must avoid shameful action even with danger, as we would have avoided it even with safety.
You will say I did not cross the sea with Pompey. In fact, I could not. The reckoning of days is there. Still, let me admit the truth: I did not even arrange matters so that I could. I was misled by something that perhaps should not have misled me, but it did. I thought there would be peace. If there were, I did not want Caesar angry with me while Pompey was also his friend. I had sensed how alike they were. Fearing that, I fell into this delay. But if I hurry now, I recover everything; if I linger, I lose everything.
Yet, my dear Atticus, omens too stir me with a hope that is not uncertain. I do not mean the omens of our college descending from Attus Navius, but Plato's words about tyrants. I see no way Caesar can stand much longer without collapsing by himself, even if we are sluggish. At the height of his new power, in six or seven days he made himself bitterly hated by the very needy and ruined crowd, because he so quickly lost his appearance of clemency in Metellus' case and his appearance of wealth at the treasury. What sort of allies or agents will he use now? Will provinces and the republic be governed by men none of whom could manage his own estate for two months?
I need not gather everything that you see so sharply. Put these things before your eyes and you will understand that his monarchy can hardly last six months. If I am wrong, I will bear it, as many famous men eminent in the state have borne misfortune, unless you think I should prefer the fate of Sardanapalus, dying in his bed, to Themistocles' exile. Thucydides says Themistocles was the best judge of present affairs on the briefest reflection and the best guesser of future events; still he fell into disasters he would have avoided if nothing had deceived him. Though he was the man who saw most clearly the better and worse course in obscurity, still he did not see how to escape either Spartan hatred or the envy of his own citizens, or what he should promise Artaxerxes. That night would not have been so bitter for Africanus, that Sullan day would not have been so dreadful for Gaius Marius, if nothing had deceived either of them.
For my part, I strengthen myself with the omen I mentioned. It does not deceive me, and things will not turn out otherwise. Caesar must fall either through his opponents or through himself; he is his own fiercest opponent. I hope it happens while we are alive, though it is time for us to think of that lasting life, not this brief one. If something happens to me sooner, it will not matter much to me whether I see it done or long before see that it will happen. Since this is so, I must not obey the men against whom the Senate armed me to prevent the republic from suffering harm.
Everything of mine is entrusted to you, though, given your love for us, it needs no formal entrusting. By heaven, I hardly know what to write, since I sit waiting for a voyage. Yet nothing was ever more necessary for me to write than this: of all your many kindnesses, none has pleased me more than your tender and careful care for my Tullia. She herself was deeply touched, and I no less. Her courage is astonishing: how she bears the public disaster, how she bears our domestic troubles, what spirit she showed at our parting. She has affection, she has the deepest sympathy, and yet she wants me to act rightly and keep my good name.
But enough about this, or I will summon up pity for myself. If you have any more certain news from Spain, or anything else while I am still here, write. Perhaps I too will send something to you as I depart, especially since Tullia did not think you would leave Italy at this time. I must deal with Antony as I did with Curio: I want to be at Malta; I do not want to take part in this civil war. I wish I could find him as accommodating and as kind to me as Curio. He was said to be coming to Misenum on May 2, that is, today. But he has sent ahead an offensive letter, of which I add a copy.
Circumstances advise, you have pointed out, and I see for myself, that it is time there was an end to our correspondence on topics which it is dangerous to have intercepted: but since my daughter often writes beseeching me to await the issue in Spain and
always adds that you think the same, and this is what I have gathered myself from your letters, I think it is well for me to write to you what I think about it.
The advice would be wise, it seems to me, only if I meant to shape my course according to what happens in Spain. That is impossible. For either, as I should much prefer, Caesar must be driven from Spain, or the war will drag on, or Caesar will seize Spain, as he seems to be confident. If Caesar is driven from Spain, you can imagine how pleasing and honourable my arrival will seem to Pompey, when I suppose even Curio will go over to him. If the war drags on, for what am I to wait or how long? The remaining alternative is that I should keep neutral, if we are beaten in Spain. I take the opposite view: for I think I am more bound to desert Caesar as victor than as vanquished, and while he is still doubtful rather than confident about his fortunes: for I foresee a massacre, if he conquers, attack on the wealth of private persons, the recall of exiles, repudiation of debts, high office for the vilest men, and a tyranny intolerable to a Persian much more to a Roman. Will my indignation be able to keep silence? Can my eyes endure to see myself giving my vote along with Gabinius, or indeed Gabinius being asked his opinion before me? Your client Clodius in waiting? Plaguleius, the client of C. Ateius, and all the others? But why do I make a list of opponents, when I shall be unable to see in the House without pain friends whom I have defended or to mix with them without shame? And what if even that may not be allowed to me, for all I know? For Caesar's friends write me that he is not at all
satisfied because I did not come to the Senate. Am I still to hesitate whether to sell myself to him at grave risk, when I refused to join him even with a certainty of reward. Besides consider this that the verdict on the whole contest does not depend on Spain; unless perhaps you think that, if Spain is lost, Pompey will throw down his arms, when his policy has always been that of Themistocles. He considers that the master of the sea must be master of the empire: so he has never planned to hold Spain for its own sake. The equipment of the fleet has always been his first care. So he will take to the sea in due season with a huge fleet and will come to Italy. What then will be the fate of us, if we stay here idle? Neutrality will be impossible. Shall we then resist the fleet? Could there be a crime deeper, greater or baser? Isolated I ran risks: shall I hesitate with the help of Pompey and the rest of the nobles. If now I am to take no account of duty but only of danger, it is from Pompey's party I run risk, if I do wrong, from Caesar, if I do right: and such is our evil plight that no plan is so free from danger as to leave a doubt that I should avoid doing with disgrace as well as danger what I should have avoided, if it had been safe. You will say I might safely have crossed the sea with Pompey. It was altogether impossible. It is easy to reckon the days: but nevertheless (for let me confess the truth: I do not even sugar my confession) supposing I could, I was mistaken over a point which perhaps ought not to have misled me; but it did. I thought that peace might be made: and, if it should be, I did not wish Caesar to be angry with me, when at the same time he was
friendly with Pompey. For I had realized how exactly they were alike. That fear of mine led me to delay. But I gain all now by haste, and, if I delay, I lose all. Nevertheless, my friend, there are auguries which urge me on, with hope not uncertain: I do not mean those of my own college which came down from Attus Navius: but Plato's words about the tyrant. For I see that Caesar can in no way maintain his position much longer, without causing his own fall, even if we are backward. For in his first and flourishing days it did not take him a week to incur the bitter hatred of the needy abandoned rabble, by letting slip through his fingers so quickly his fictitious claim to two things, clemency in the case of Metellus and ample wealth in the case of the public money. Now what kind of associates and servants can he employ? Are men to rule provinces and direct affairs not one of whom could steer his own fortunes for two months?
I need not put all the points together; you see them clearly enough: but put them before your eyes and you will understand that his reign can hardly last for half a year. If I am mistaken, I will bear the consequences, as many illustrious men, eminent in public life, have borne them, unless perhaps you consider that I should prefer to die like Sardanapalus [in his bed] rather than like Themistocles in exile. For Thucydides tells us that though Themistocles was "the best judge of current affairs on the shortest reflection, and the shrewdest to guess at what would happen in the future," yet he fell into misfortunes, which he would have escaped, had there been no
error in his calculations. Though he was, as the same writer says, "a clear-sighted judge of the better and the worse course in a doubtful crisis," yet he failed to see how to avoid the hate of the Spartans and his own fellow-citizens, nor what promise he ought to make to Artaxerxes. Africanus would have been spared that cruel night, and that master of craft C. Marius the fateful day of Sulla's triumph, if nothing had ever escaped their calculations. So I strengthen myself by that prophetic remark of Plato: I am not deceived nor will it happen otherwise. Caesar is bound to fall either through the agency of his enemies or of himself, and he is his own worst enemy. I hope it will be in our lifetime, though it is an occasion for us to consider the lasting future and not our own narrow life. If anything happens to me before that day, it will not have mattered to me much whether I see it come about or foresee that it will happen long before. Since this is so, I must not obey men against whom the Senate armed me with power to see that the Republic took no harm.
To you all my interests have been entrusted, though they need no entrusting considering your great affection for me. I have nothing to write, for I sit waiting to sail. Yet I never wanted so much to write anything, as I want to tell you that of your
many kindnesses none has given me greater pleasure than your very gracious and constant care of Tullia. She herself has been charmed and I not less. She has shown admirable qualities, has borne the national calamity and private worries with great fortitude and displayed it over my departure. She loves me and sympathizes with me and yet wishes me to act rightly and keep my good repute. But enough of this, lest I begin to pity myself.
If you get more certain tidings about Spain or any other matter, pray write and tell me while I am here, and perhaps at the time of going I may send you news, the more so because Tullia fancies that you are not leaving Italy at the present moment. I must explain to Antony as I did to Curio that I want to stay in Malta and refuse to take part in this civil war. I only hope that I may find him as easy and good to me as I found Curio. He will come it is said to Misenum on the second, that is to-day; but he has sent in advance a nasty letter of which I subjoin a copy:
[1] et res ipsa monebat et tu ostenderas et ego videbam de iis rebus quas intercipi periculosum esset finem inter nos scribendi fieri tempus esse. sed cum ad me saepe mea Tullia scribat orans ut quid in Hispania geratur exspectem et semper adscribat idem videri tibi idque ipse etiam ex tuis litteris intellexerim, non puto esse alienum me ad te quid de ea re sentiam scribere. [2] consilium istud tunc esset prudens, ut mihi videtur, si nostras rationes ad Hispaniensem casum accommodaturi essemus; quod fieri . . . necesse est enim aut, id quod maxime velim, pelli istum ab Hispania aut trahi id bellum aut istum, ut confidere videtur, apprehendere Hispanias. si pelletur, quam gratus aut quam honestus tum erit ad Pompeium noster adventus, cum ipsum Curionem ad eum transiturum putem? sin trahitur bellum, quid exspectem aut quam diu? relinquitur ut, si vincimur in Hispania, quiescamus. id ego contra puto. istum enim victorem magis relinquendum puto quam victum et dubitantem magis quam fidentem suis rebus. nam caedem video si vicerit et impetum in privatorum pecunias et exsulum reditum et tabulas novas et turpissimorum honores et regnum non modo Romano homini sed ne Persae quidem cuiquam tolerabile. [3] Tacita esse poterit indignitas nostra? pati poterunt oculi me cum Gabinio sententiam dicere, et quidem illum rogari prius? praesto esse clientem tuum Clodium, C. Atei Plaguleium, ceteros? sed cur inimicos conligo, qui meos necessarios a me defensos nec videre in curia sine dolore nec versari inter eos sine dedecore potero? quid si ne id quidem est exploratum fore ut mihi liceat? scribunt enim ad me amici eius me illi nullo modo satis fecisse quod in senatum non venerim. tamenne dubitemus an ei nos etiam cum periculo venditemus, quicum coniuncti ne cum praemio quidem voluimus esse? [4] deinde hoc vide, non esse iudicium de tota contentione in Hispaniis, nisi forte iis amissis arma Pompeium abiecturum putas, cuius omne consilium Themistocleum est. existimat enim qui mare teneat eum necesse (esse) rerum potiri. itaque numquam id egit ut Hispaniae per se tenerentur, navalis apparatus ei semper antiquissima cura fuit. navigabit igitur, cum erit tempus, maximis classibus et ad Italiam accedet. in qua nos sedentes quid erimus? nam medios esse iam non licebit. classibus adversabimur igitur? quod maius scelus aut tantum denique? quid turpius? + anuival dehic+ in absentis solus tuli scelus, eiusdem cum Pompeio et cum reliquis principibus non feram? quod si iam misso officio periculi ratio habenda est, ab illis est periculum si peccaro, ab hoc si recte fecero, nec ullum in his malis consilium periculo vacuum inveniri potest, ut non sit dubium quin turpiter facere cum periculo fugiamus, quod fugeremus etiam cum salute. + non simul cum Pompeio mare transierimus. omnino (non) potuimus+ . exstat ratio dierum. sed tamen (fateamur enim quod est) ne condimus quidem ut possimus. fefellit ea me res quae fortasse non debuit, sed fefellit. pacem putavi fore. quae si esset iratum mihi Caesarem esse, cum idem amicus esset Pompeio, nolui. senseram enim quam idem essent. hoc verens in hanc tarditatem incidi. sed adsequor omnia si propero, si cunctor amitto. [6] et tamen, mi Attice, auguria quoque me incitant quadam spe non dubia nec haec collegi nostri ab atto sed illa Platonis de tyrannis. nullo enim modo posse video stare istum diutius quin ipse per se etiam languentibus nobis concidat, quippe qui florentissimus ac novus vi, vii diebus ipsi illi egenti ac perditae multitudini in odium acerbissimum venerit, qui duarum rerum simulationem tam cito amiserit, mansuetudinis in Metello, divitiarum in aerario. iam quibus utatur vel sociis vel ministris? ii provincias, ii rem publicam regent quorum nemo duo menses potuit patrimonium suum gubernare? [7] non sunt omnia conligenda quae tu acutissime perspicis, sed tamen ea pone ante oculos; iam intelleges id regnum vix semenstre esse posse. quod si me fefellerit, feram, sicut multi clarissimi homines in re publica excellentes tulerunt, nisi forte me Sardanapalli vicem [in suo lectulo] mori malle censueris quam (in) exsilio Themistocleo. qui cum fuisset, ut ait Thucydides, ton men paronton di' elachistes boules kratistos gnomon, ton de mellonton es pleiston tou genesomenou aristos eikastes, tamen incidit in eos casus quos vitasset si eum nihil fefellisset. etsi is erat ut ait idem, qui to ameinon kai to cheiron en toi aphanei eti heora malista, tamen non vidit nec quo modo Lacedaemoniorum nec quo modo suorum civium invidiam effugeret nec quid Artaxerxi polliceretur. non fuisset illa nox tam acerba Africano sapientissimo viro, non tam dirus ille dies Sullanus callidissimo viro C. Mario, si nihil utrumque eorum fefellisset. nos tamen hoc confirmamus illo augurio quo diximus, nec nos fallit nec aliter accidet. corruat iste necesse est aut per adversarios aut ipse per se qui quidem sibi est adversarius unus acerrimus. id spero vivis nobis fore; quamquam tempus est nos de illa perpetua iam, non de hac exigua vita cogitare. sin quid acciderit maturius, haud sane mea multum interfuerit utrum factum [fiat] videam an futurum esse multo ante viderim. quae cum ita sint, non est committendum ut iis paream quos contra me senatus, ne quid res publica detrimenti acciperet, armavit [9] tibi sunt omnia commendata, quae commendationis meae pro tuo in nos amore non indigent. nec hercule ego quidem reperio quid scribam; sedeo enim ploudokon. etsi nihil umquam tam fuit scribendum quam nihil mihi umquam ex plurimis tuis iucunditatibus gratius accidisse quam quod meam Tulliam suavissime diligentissimeque coluisti. valde eo ipsa delectata est, ego autem non minus. cuius quidem virtus mirifica. quo modo illa fert publicam cladem, quo modo domesticas tricas! quantus autem animus in discessu nostro! est storge, est summa suntexis. tamen nos recte facere et bene audire vult. [10] sed hac super re (ne ni)mis, ne meam ipse sumpatheian iam evocem. tu si quid de Hispaniis certius et si quid aliud, dum adsumus, scribes, et ego fortasse discedens dabo ad te aliquid eo etiam magis quod Tullia te non putabat hoc tempore ex Italia. Cum Antonio item est agendum ut cum Curione Melitae me velle esse, huic civili bello nolle interesse. eo velim tam facili uti posse et tam bono in me quam Curione. is ad Misenum vi Nonas venturus aicebatur, id est hodie. sed praemisit mihi odiosas litteras hoc exemplo:
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The facts themselves advised it, you had pointed it out, and I saw it too: it is time for us to end our correspondence about matters that would be dangerous if intercepted. But since my Tullia often writes begging me to wait for what happens in Spain, and always adds that you think the same, and since I have understood as much from your own letters, I do not think it out of place to write what I think about it.
That advice would be prudent, in my view, if I were going to shape my own plans by the outcome in Spain. But that cannot be done. Either Caesar will be driven from Spain, which is what I most want, or the war will be prolonged, or Caesar, as he seems confident, will seize the Spains. If he is driven out, how welcome or honorable will my arrival then be to Pompey, when I think even Curio will go over to him? If the war drags on, what am I to wait for, and how long? The remaining alternative is that, if we are defeated in Spain, I should stay quiet. I think the opposite. I think Caesar must be left more when he is victorious than when he is defeated, more when he is doubtful than when he is confident.
If he wins, I see slaughter ahead, attacks on private fortunes, the recall of exiles, cancellation of debts, honors for the vilest men, and a monarchy not tolerable for any Persian, much less for a Roman. Will my indignation be able to keep silent? Will my eyes endure seeing myself give a vote beside Gabinius, and seeing him asked his opinion before me? Will I bear the presence of your client Clodius, Gaius Ateius' Plaguleius, and the rest? But why list enemies, when I will not be able to see my own friends, men I have defended, in the Senate without pain, or move among them without disgrace?
And what if even that is not certain to be allowed? Caesar's friends write to me that I have not satisfied him at all because I did not come to the Senate. Am I still to hesitate whether to sell myself to him, even with danger, when I refused to join him even with reward? Consider this too: Spain is not the final judgment of the whole struggle, unless perhaps you think Pompey will throw down his arms if the Spains are lost. His whole policy is Themistoclean. He believes that whoever holds the sea must hold power. He has never treated Spain as the first object in itself; his oldest and strongest concern has always been naval preparation. So when the time comes he will sail with the largest fleets and approach Italy. If we sit here, what shall we be then? We will no longer be allowed to be neutral.
Shall we oppose the fleets? What crime could be greater, or so great, or more shameful? I bore danger alone for the absent man; shall I not bear it with Pompey and the other leading men? If, after setting duty aside, I must consider only danger, the danger is from Pompey's side if I do wrong and from Caesar if I do right. In these evils no plan can be found free of danger, so there is no doubt that we must avoid shameful action even with danger, as we would have avoided it even with safety.
You will say I did not cross the sea with Pompey. In fact, I could not. The reckoning of days is there. Still, let me admit the truth: I did not even arrange matters so that I could. I was misled by something that perhaps should not have misled me, but it did. I thought there would be peace. If there were, I did not want Caesar angry with me while Pompey was also his friend. I had sensed how alike they were. Fearing that, I fell into this delay. But if I hurry now, I recover everything; if I linger, I lose everything.
Yet, my dear Atticus, omens too stir me with a hope that is not uncertain. I do not mean the omens of our college descending from Attus Navius, but Plato's words about tyrants. I see no way Caesar can stand much longer without collapsing by himself, even if we are sluggish. At the height of his new power, in six or seven days he made himself bitterly hated by the very needy and ruined crowd, because he so quickly lost his appearance of clemency in Metellus' case and his appearance of wealth at the treasury. What sort of allies or agents will he use now? Will provinces and the republic be governed by men none of whom could manage his own estate for two months?
I need not gather everything that you see so sharply. Put these things before your eyes and you will understand that his monarchy can hardly last six months. If I am wrong, I will bear it, as many famous men eminent in the state have borne misfortune, unless you think I should prefer the fate of Sardanapalus, dying in his bed, to Themistocles' exile. Thucydides says Themistocles was the best judge of present affairs on the briefest reflection and the best guesser of future events; still he fell into disasters he would have avoided if nothing had deceived him. Though he was the man who saw most clearly the better and worse course in obscurity, still he did not see how to escape either Spartan hatred or the envy of his own citizens, or what he should promise Artaxerxes. That night would not have been so bitter for Africanus, that Sullan day would not have been so dreadful for Gaius Marius, if nothing had deceived either of them.
For my part, I strengthen myself with the omen I mentioned. It does not deceive me, and things will not turn out otherwise. Caesar must fall either through his opponents or through himself; he is his own fiercest opponent. I hope it happens while we are alive, though it is time for us to think of that lasting life, not this brief one. If something happens to me sooner, it will not matter much to me whether I see it done or long before see that it will happen. Since this is so, I must not obey the men against whom the Senate armed me to prevent the republic from suffering harm.
Everything of mine is entrusted to you, though, given your love for us, it needs no formal entrusting. By heaven, I hardly know what to write, since I sit waiting for a voyage. Yet nothing was ever more necessary for me to write than this: of all your many kindnesses, none has pleased me more than your tender and careful care for my Tullia. She herself was deeply touched, and I no less. Her courage is astonishing: how she bears the public disaster, how she bears our domestic troubles, what spirit she showed at our parting. She has affection, she has the deepest sympathy, and yet she wants me to act rightly and keep my good name.
But enough about this, or I will summon up pity for myself. If you have any more certain news from Spain, or anything else while I am still here, write. Perhaps I too will send something to you as I depart, especially since Tullia did not think you would leave Italy at this time. I must deal with Antony as I did with Curio: I want to be at Malta; I do not want to take part in this civil war. I wish I could find him as accommodating and as kind to me as Curio. He was said to be coming to Misenum on May 2, that is, today. But he has sent ahead an offensive letter, of which I add a copy.
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] et res ipsa monebat et tu ostenderas et ego videbam de iis rebus quas intercipi periculosum esset finem inter nos scribendi fieri tempus esse. sed cum ad me saepe mea Tullia scribat orans ut quid in Hispania geratur exspectem et semper adscribat idem videri tibi idque ipse etiam ex tuis litteris intellexerim, non puto esse alienum me ad te quid de ea re sentiam scribere. [2] consilium istud tunc esset prudens, ut mihi videtur, si nostras rationes ad Hispaniensem casum accommodaturi essemus; quod fieri . . . necesse est enim aut, id quod maxime velim, pelli istum ab Hispania aut trahi id bellum aut istum, ut confidere videtur, apprehendere Hispanias. si pelletur, quam gratus aut quam honestus tum erit ad Pompeium noster adventus, cum ipsum Curionem ad eum transiturum putem? sin trahitur bellum, quid exspectem aut quam diu? relinquitur ut, si vincimur in Hispania, quiescamus. id ego contra puto. istum enim victorem magis relinquendum puto quam victum et dubitantem magis quam fidentem suis rebus. nam caedem video si vicerit et impetum in privatorum pecunias et exsulum reditum et tabulas novas et turpissimorum honores et regnum non modo Romano homini sed ne Persae quidem cuiquam tolerabile. [3] Tacita esse poterit indignitas nostra? pati poterunt oculi me cum Gabinio sententiam dicere, et quidem illum rogari prius? praesto esse clientem tuum Clodium, C. Atei Plaguleium, ceteros? sed cur inimicos conligo, qui meos necessarios a me defensos nec videre in curia sine dolore nec versari inter eos sine dedecore potero? quid si ne id quidem est exploratum fore ut mihi liceat? scribunt enim ad me amici eius me illi nullo modo satis fecisse quod in senatum non venerim. tamenne dubitemus an ei nos etiam cum periculo venditemus, quicum coniuncti ne cum praemio quidem voluimus esse? [4] deinde hoc vide, non esse iudicium de tota contentione in Hispaniis, nisi forte iis amissis arma Pompeium abiecturum putas, cuius omne consilium Themistocleum est. existimat enim qui mare teneat eum necesse (esse) rerum potiri. itaque numquam id egit ut Hispaniae per se tenerentur, navalis apparatus ei semper antiquissima cura fuit. navigabit igitur, cum erit tempus, maximis classibus et ad Italiam accedet. in qua nos sedentes quid erimus? nam medios esse iam non licebit. classibus adversabimur igitur? quod maius scelus aut tantum denique? quid turpius? + anuival dehic+ in absentis solus tuli scelus, eiusdem cum Pompeio et cum reliquis principibus non feram? quod si iam misso officio periculi ratio habenda est, ab illis est periculum si peccaro, ab hoc si recte fecero, nec ullum in his malis consilium periculo vacuum inveniri potest, ut non sit dubium quin turpiter facere cum periculo fugiamus, quod fugeremus etiam cum salute. + non simul cum Pompeio mare transierimus. omnino (non) potuimus+ . exstat ratio dierum. sed tamen (fateamur enim quod est) ne condimus quidem ut possimus. fefellit ea me res quae fortasse non debuit, sed fefellit. pacem putavi fore. quae si esset iratum mihi Caesarem esse, cum idem amicus esset Pompeio, nolui. senseram enim quam idem essent. hoc verens in hanc tarditatem incidi. sed adsequor omnia si propero, si cunctor amitto. [6] et tamen, mi Attice, auguria quoque me incitant quadam spe non dubia nec haec collegi nostri ab atto sed illa Platonis de tyrannis. nullo enim modo posse video stare istum diutius quin ipse per se etiam languentibus nobis concidat, quippe qui florentissimus ac novus vi, vii diebus ipsi illi egenti ac perditae multitudini in odium acerbissimum venerit, qui duarum rerum simulationem tam cito amiserit, mansuetudinis in Metello, divitiarum in aerario. iam quibus utatur vel sociis vel ministris? ii provincias, ii rem publicam regent quorum nemo duo menses potuit patrimonium suum gubernare? [7] non sunt omnia conligenda quae tu acutissime perspicis, sed tamen ea pone ante oculos; iam intelleges id regnum vix semenstre esse posse. quod si me fefellerit, feram, sicut multi clarissimi homines in re publica excellentes tulerunt, nisi forte me Sardanapalli vicem [in suo lectulo] mori malle censueris quam (in) exsilio Themistocleo. qui cum fuisset, ut ait Thucydides, ton men paronton di' elachistes boules kratistos gnomon, ton de mellonton es pleiston tou genesomenou aristos eikastes, tamen incidit in eos casus quos vitasset si eum nihil fefellisset. etsi is erat ut ait idem, qui to ameinon kai to cheiron en toi aphanei eti heora malista, tamen non vidit nec quo modo Lacedaemoniorum nec quo modo suorum civium invidiam effugeret nec quid Artaxerxi polliceretur. non fuisset illa nox tam acerba Africano sapientissimo viro, non tam dirus ille dies Sullanus callidissimo viro C. Mario, si nihil utrumque eorum fefellisset. nos tamen hoc confirmamus illo augurio quo diximus, nec nos fallit nec aliter accidet. corruat iste necesse est aut per adversarios aut ipse per se qui quidem sibi est adversarius unus acerrimus. id spero vivis nobis fore; quamquam tempus est nos de illa perpetua iam, non de hac exigua vita cogitare. sin quid acciderit maturius, haud sane mea multum interfuerit utrum factum [fiat] videam an futurum esse multo ante viderim. quae cum ita sint, non est committendum ut iis paream quos contra me senatus, ne quid res publica detrimenti acciperet, armavit [9] tibi sunt omnia commendata, quae commendationis meae pro tuo in nos amore non indigent. nec hercule ego quidem reperio quid scribam; sedeo enim ploudokon. etsi nihil umquam tam fuit scribendum quam nihil mihi umquam ex plurimis tuis iucunditatibus gratius accidisse quam quod meam Tulliam suavissime diligentissimeque coluisti. valde eo ipsa delectata est, ego autem non minus. cuius quidem virtus mirifica. quo modo illa fert publicam cladem, quo modo domesticas tricas! quantus autem animus in discessu nostro! est storge, est summa suntexis. tamen nos recte facere et bene audire vult. [10] sed hac super re (ne ni)mis, ne meam ipse sumpatheian iam evocem. tu si quid de Hispaniis certius et si quid aliud, dum adsumus, scribes, et ego fortasse discedens dabo ad te aliquid eo etiam magis quod Tullia te non putabat hoc tempore ex Italia. Cum Antonio item est agendum ut cum Curione Melitae me velle esse, huic civili bello nolle interesse. eo velim tam facili uti posse et tam bono in me quam Curione. is ad Misenum vi Nonas venturus aicebatur, id est hodie. sed praemisit mihi odiosas litteras hoc exemplo: