Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 46 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
On the eleventh day after I had left you, I scratched out this little note as I was leaving my country house before dawn; and I am planning to spend today at my place near Anagnia, tomorrow at Tusculum, and to stay there one day. On the fifth before the Kalends [the 26th], then, I will be at our appointed meeting. And how I wish I could run straight into the embrace of my Tullia, to the kiss of Attica! Do write me about that very thing, I beg you, so that while I am stopping at Tusculum I may know what little Attica is prattling about; or, if she is in the country, what she writes to you. And in the meantime, either write or send my greetings to her, and likewise to Pilia. And yet, even though we are to meet right away, write to me if you have anything to say.
[2] As I was folding up this letter, your letter-carrier, traveling by night, came to me with your letter; and on reading it I was of course much grieved about Attica's little touch of fever. Everything else I was waiting for I learned in full from your letter. But as for what you write, that wanting a little morning fire is gerontikon ["like an old man's habit"], it is more gerontikoteron ["more characteristic of an old man"] for one's poor little memory to falter. For I had set the fourth before the Kalends [the 27th] for Axius, the third [the 28th] for you, and for Quintus the day I would arrive, that is, the fifth before the Kalends [the 26th]. So you will have this, and there is nothing new. What need, then, was there of a letter? What need, when we are together and chatter about whatever comes to our lips? There is, after all, a certain something in lesche ["idle talk, gossip"], which possesses, even if there is nothing beneath it, a sweetness in the very act of conversing together.
On the eleventh day after parting from you I have scribbled these few lines while leaving my country house before daybreak. I am thinking of stopping to-day at my place at Anagnia, to-morrow at Tusculum and staying there one day. On the 26th then to our tryst; and I only wish I could run straight to the embraces of my Tullia and the lips of Attica. What those little lips are prattling, please write and let me know, while I am at Tusculum, or, if she is in the country, what she is writing to you: and in the meantime pay my respects by letter or in person to her, and to Pilia too. And all the same, though we are to meet at once, write to me, if you have anything to say.
As I was folding up this letter, a messenger came in the night to me with a letter of yours, and on reading it I was naturally very sorry to hear of Attica's slight attack of fever. Everything else I was wanting to hear, I learn from your letter. You say it is a sign of old age to want a bit of fire in the morning: it's a worse sign of old age to be a bit weak in your memory. I had arranged for the 27th with Axius, the 28th with you, and the 26th, the day I arrive, with Quintus. So please count on
that: there is no new arrangement. What's the use of writing then? What's the use of our meeting and chattering about everything that comes into our heads? A bit of gossip is something after all, and, even if there is nothing in our talk, the mere fact of talking together has some charms.
undecimo die, postquam a te discesseram, hoc litterularum exaravi egrediens e villa ante lucem atque eo die cogitabam in Anagnino, postero autem in Tusculano, ibi unum diem; v Kalend. igitur ad constitutum. atque utinam continuo ad complexum meae Tulliae, ad osculum Atticae possim currere! quod quidem ipsum scribe, quaeso, ad me ut, dum consisto in Tusculano, sciam quid garriat, sin rusticatur, quid scribat ad te; eique interea aut scribes salutem aut nuntiabis itemque Piliae. et tamen etsi continuo congressuri sumus, scribes ad me si quid habebis. [2] cum complicarem hanc epistulam, noctuabundus ad me venit cum epistula tua tabellarius; qua lecta de Atticae febricula scilicet valde dolui. reliqua quae exspectabam ex tuis litteris cognovi omnia; sed quod scribis 'igniculum matutinum gerontiko/n ,' gerontikw/teron est memoriola vacillare. ego enim iiii Kal. Axio dederam, tibi iii, Quinto quo die venissem, id est v Kal. Hoc igitur habebis, novi nihil. quid ergo opus erat epistula? quid, cum coram sumus et garrimus quicquid in buccam? est profecto quiddam le/sxh , quae habet, etiam si nihil subest, conlocutione ipsa suavitatem.
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On the eleventh day after I had left you, I scratched out this little note as I was leaving my country house before dawn; and I am planning to spend today at my place near Anagnia, tomorrow at Tusculum, and to stay there one day. On the fifth before the Kalends [the 26th], then, I will be at our appointed meeting. And how I wish I could run straight into the embrace of my Tullia, to the kiss of Attica! Do write me about that very thing, I beg you, so that while I am stopping at Tusculum I may know what little Attica is prattling about; or, if she is in the country, what she writes to you. And in the meantime, either write or send my greetings to her, and likewise to Pilia. And yet, even though we are to meet right away, write to me if you have anything to say.
[2] As I was folding up this letter, your letter-carrier, traveling by night, came to me with your letter; and on reading it I was of course much grieved about Attica's little touch of fever. Everything else I was waiting for I learned in full from your letter. But as for what you write, that wanting a little morning fire is gerontikon ["like an old man's habit"], it is more gerontikoteron ["more characteristic of an old man"] for one's poor little memory to falter. For I had set the fourth before the Kalends [the 27th] for Axius, the third [the 28th] for you, and for Quintus the day I would arrive, that is, the fifth before the Kalends [the 26th]. So you will have this, and there is nothing new. What need, then, was there of a letter? What need, when we are together and chatter about whatever comes to our lips? There is, after all, a certain something in lesche ["idle talk, gossip"], which possesses, even if there is nothing beneath it, a sweetness in the very act of conversing together.
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
undecimo die, postquam a te discesseram, hoc litterularum exaravi egrediens e villa ante lucem atque eo die cogitabam in Anagnino, postero autem in Tusculano, ibi unum diem; v Kalend. igitur ad constitutum. atque utinam continuo ad complexum meae Tulliae, ad osculum Atticae possim currere! quod quidem ipsum scribe, quaeso, ad me ut, dum consisto in Tusculano, sciam quid garriat, sin rusticatur, quid scribat ad te; eique interea aut scribes salutem aut nuntiabis itemque Piliae. et tamen etsi continuo congressuri sumus, scribes ad me si quid habebis. [2] cum complicarem hanc epistulam, noctuabundus ad me venit cum epistula tua tabellarius; qua lecta de Atticae febricula scilicet valde dolui. reliqua quae exspectabam ex tuis litteris cognovi omnia; sed quod scribis 'igniculum matutinum gerontiko/n ,' gerontikw/teron est memoriola vacillare. ego enim iiii Kal. Axio dederam, tibi iii, Quinto quo die venissem, id est v Kal. Hoc igitur habebis, novi nihil. quid ergo opus erat epistula? quid, cum coram sumus et garrimus quicquid in buccam? est profecto quiddam le/sxh , quae habet, etiam si nihil subest, conlocutione ipsa suavitatem.