Marcus Tullius Cicero→Appius Claudius Pulcher|c. 51 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Cilicia|AI-assisted
While I was in camp on the river Pyramus, two letters from you were delivered to me at the same time, forwarded by Quintus Servilius from Tarsus. One was dated April 5; the other, which seemed to me more recent, had no date. I will therefore answer the first one first, in which you tell me about your acquittal on the charge of maiestas [an offense against the dignity or security of the Roman state].
I had already long ago learned of it from letters, messages, and finally common report, for nothing could be better known. This was not because anyone had expected a different result, but because no report about men of distinguished reputation usually gets abroad without causing a stir. Still, your letter increased the satisfaction I felt at the news, not only because it spoke clearly and more fully than public talk, but also because, hearing your own account from yourself, I felt more truly able to congratulate you.
So I embraced you in imagination, since you were not here, and, kissing the letter itself, congratulated myself as well. Compliments paid by the whole people, the senate, and the jurors to ability, energy, and virtue, qualities I perhaps flatter myself in imagining I possess, I regard as paid to me too.
What astonishes me is not so much the splendid result of your trial as the perverted intelligence of your enemies. "Bribery or maiestas," you will say, "what difference does it make which charge?" Substantially, none: you have never touched the former, and the latter you have advanced rather than injured. But maiestas, despite Sulla, is so vague in nature that anyone can safely be denounced under it, while bribery has such a definite meaning that either the accusation or the defense must be discreditable. How can there be doubt whether bribery was employed or not? Who ever suspected your successive elections?
How unlucky that I was not there. What roars of laughter I would have caused. But as for the trial for maiestas, two things in your letter gave me very great pleasure. One was your saying that you were defended by the republic itself. Even if good and brave citizens were as plentiful as possible, the republic ought still to preserve men like you; in the actual state of affairs it is more bound than ever to do so, when there is such a shortage of such men in every office and every age that a state so bereaved ought to welcome guardians like you with open arms.
The other was your wonderfully high praise of the good faith and good feeling of Pompey and Brutus. I am delighted by their honorable conduct and cordial kindness, both because they are your relatives and very dear friends of mine, and because one of them is the first man of every age and country, while the other has long been the first of our younger men and will soon, I hope, be first among all citizens.
As to having the witnesses who took bribes punished with disgrace by their several communities, unless something has already been done through Flaccus, it shall be done through me on my return journey through Asia.
Now I come to your second letter. You send me, as it were, a sketch plan of the situation affecting us both and of the whole political condition. In this, the wisdom of your letter greatly relieved me. I see that the dangers ahead are less formidable than I feared, and the safeguards greater, if, as you say, all the real strength of the state has devoted itself to Pompey as leader. At the same time I saw that your spirit was alert and keen in defense of the republic, and I felt great pleasure at the energy that made you decide, despite very pressing engagements, that the state of public affairs should be known to me through you.
By all means keep the books on augural science for the time when we take a holiday together. When I wrote pressing you to fulfill your promise, I was thinking of you as outside the walls and enjoying complete leisure. As things are, instead of the augural books, I shall expect all your speeches complete.
Decimus Tullius, to whom you gave a message for me, has not yet come to see me. At present I have none of your friends with me, only my own, though they are all yours too.
I do not understand what you mean by my "somewhat angry letter." I have written to you twice, carefully clearing myself and only gently faulting you for being too ready to believe things about me. That kind of complaint seems to me proper between friends. But if you do not like it, I will not use it again.
If, as you say, the letter was badly written, be sure it was not mine. Just as Aristarchus denies that any verse he dislikes is Homer's, so you, if you will excuse the joke, should consider nothing badly written to be mine.
Farewell. In your censorship, if you are now censor, as I hope you are, think often of your ancestor.
CCLXIV (Fam. III, 11) TO APPIUS CLAUDIUS PULCHER (AT ROME) CILICIA, JUNE: M. CICERO to Appius Pulcher , (as I hope) censor. Being in camp on the river Pyramus , I received two letters from you at the same time, forwarded by Q. Servilius from Tarsus . One of them was dated 5th of April, the other, which seemed to me the more recent, was not dated. I will therefore answer the former first, in which you tell me about your acquittal on the charge of lese majeste. I had, indeed, been long ago informed of this by letters, messages, and in fine by common rumour, for nothing could be more notorious — not because anyone had expected a different result, but because, as a rule, no report about men of illustrious reputation gets out without making a stir — yet your letter increased the satisfaction I felt in the news, not only because it spoke in clear terms and with greater fullness than the talk of the common people, but also because I felt more really like congratulating you when I heard your own story from yourself. Accordingly, I embraced you in imagination, since you were not here, and, kissing the actual letter, I also congratulated myself. For compliments paid by the whole people, the senate, and the jurors to ability, energy, and virtue (perhaps I flatter myself in imagining myself possessed of these) I look upon as paid to myself also. Nor is it the splendid result of your trial so much as the perverted intelligence of your enemies that excites my wonder. “Bribery or maiestas,” you will say, “what does it matter which?” Nothing substantially: for the former you have never touched, and the latter you have promoted rather than injured. But the fact is that maiestas (in spite of Sulla ) is of such a vague nature as to permit of the safe denunciation of anyone: while bribery is a word of such definite meaning that either the accusation or the defence must be discreditable. For how can there be any doubt as to whether bribery has been employed or not? Now, who ever suspected your successive elections? How unlucky that I wasn't there! What roars of laughter I would have caused! But as to the trial for maiestas, there were two things that gave me very great pleasure in your letter: one was your saying that you were defended by the Republic itself — for even if good and gallant citizens were as plentiful as possible, it still ought to preserve men like you; while in the actual state of affairs it is more bound than ever to do so, when there is such a dearth of such men in every office and every age, that a state so bereaved ought to welcome guardians like you with open arms: the other is your wonderfully high praise of the good faith and good feeling of Pompey and Brutus . I am delighted at their honourable conduct and cordial kindness, both because they are your relations and my very dear friends, and also because one of them is the first of men of every age and country, while the other has long been the first of our younger men, and will soon, I hope, be first of all the citizens. As to having the witnesses who took bribes punished with ignominy by their several states, unless something has already been done by the agency of Flaccus , it shall be done by mine on my return journey through Asia . Now I come to your second letter. You send me a sketch-plan, so to speak, of the state of things affecting us both, and of the whole condition of politics: in this I am much relieved by the sagacity of your letter. For I perceive that the dangers ahead are at once less formidable than I feared, and the safeguards greater, if; as you say, all the real strength of the state has devoted itself to Pompey as its leader: and I perceived at the same time that your spirit was alert and keen in the defence of the Republic, and I experienced a wonderful pleasure from the energy which made you determine, in spite of very pressing engagements, that the state of the Republic should be known to me by your means. Certainly: keep the books on the augural science for the time when we take a holiday together; for when I wrote dunning you for the performance of your promise, I thought of you as being outside the walls and enjoying the most complete leisure. As it is, however, instead of your augural books, I shall expect all your speeches complete. Decimus Tullius , to whom you gave a message for me, has not yet been to see me, nor have I at present any of your friends with me; only my own, who, however, are all yours. I don't understand what you mean by my “somewhat angry letter.” I have written to you twice, clearing myself carefully, and only gently finding fault with you for having been too ready to believe things about me. This is a kind of expostulation which seems to me proper for a friend; but if you don't like it, I won't employ it again. But if, as you say, the letter was ill expressed, be sure it was not mine. For as Aristarchus denies any verse he doesn't like to be Homer 's, so pray do you (excuse the joke) consider nothing that is ill expressed to be mine. Farewell, and in your censorship, if you are now censor, as I hope you are, think often of your ancestor.
XI. Scr. in castris ad Pyramum mense Iunio (post Nonas) a.u.c. 704. M. CICERO AP. PULCHRO, ut spero, CENSORI S. D.
Cum essem in castris ad fluvium Pyramum, redditae mihi sunt uno tempore a te epistulae duae, quas ad me Q. Servilius Tarso miserat: earum in altera dies erat ascriptus Nonarum Aprilium; in altera, quae mihi recentior videbatur, dies non erat. Respondebo igitur superiori prius, in qua scribis ad me de absolutione maiestatis. De qua etsi permulto ante certior factus eram litteris, nuntiis, fama denique ipsa—nihil enim fuit clarius, non quo quisquam aliter putasset, sed nihil de insignibus ad laudem viris obscure nuntiari solet—, tamen eadem illa laetiora fecerunt mihi tuae litterae, non solum quia planius loquebantur et uberius quam vulgi sermo, sed etiam quia magis videbar tibi gratulari, cum de te ex te ipso audiebam. Complexus igitur sum cogitatione te absentem; epistulam vero osculatus, etiam ipse mihi gratulatus sum; quae enim a cuncto populo, a senatu, a iudicibus ingenio, industriae, virtuti tribuuntur, quia mihi ipse assentor fortasse, cum ea esse in me fingo, mihi quoque ipsi tribui puto. Nec tam gloriosum exitum tui iudicii exstitisse, sed tam pravam inimicorum tuorum mentem fuisse mirabar. "De ambitu vero, quid interest," inquies, "an de maiestate?" ad rem nihil; alterum enim non attigisti, alteram auxisti; verumtamen ea est maiestas, ut Sulla voluit, ut in quemvis impune declamari liceret, ambitus vero ita apertam vim habet, ut aut accusetur improbe aut defendatur; qui enim facta aut non facta largitio ignorari potest? tuorum autem honorum cursus cui suspectus umquam fuit? Me miserum, qui non affuerim! quos ego risus excitassem! Sed de maiestatis iudicio duo mihi illa ex tuis litteris iucundissima fuerunt: unum, quod te ab ipsa re publica defensum scribis, quae quidem etiam in summa bonorum et fortium civium copia tueri tales viros deberet, nunc vero eo magis, quod tanta penuria est in omni vel honoris vel aetatis gradu, ut tam orba civitas tales tutores complecti debeat; alterum, quod Pompeii et Bruti fidem benevolentiamque mirifice laudas: laetor virtute et officio cum tuorum necessariorum, meorum amicissimorum, tum alterius omnium saeculorum et gentium principis, alterius iam pridem iuventutis, celeriter, ut spero, civitatis. De mercenariis testibus a suis civitatibus notandis, nisi iam factum aliquid est per Flaccum, fiet a me, cum per Asiam decedam. Nunc ad alteram epistulam venio. Quod ad me quasi formam communium temporum et totius rei publicae misisti expressam, prudentia litterarum tuarum valde mihi est grata—video enim et pericula leviora, quam timebam, et maiora praesidia, si quidem, ut scribis, omnes vires civitatis se ad Pompeii ductum applicaverunt—tuumque simul promptum animum et alacrem perspexi ad defendendam rem publicam, mirificamque cepi voluptatem ex hac tua diligentia, quod in summis tuis occupationibus mihi tamen rei publica statum per te notum esse voluisti: nam augurales libros ad commune utriusque nostrum otium serva; ego enim, a te cum tua promissa per litteras flagitabam, ad urbem te otiosissimum esse arbitrabar, nunc tamen, ut ipse polliceris, pro auguralibus libris orationes tuas confectas omnes exspectabo. D. Tullius, cui mandata ad me dedisti, non convenerat me; nec erat iam quisquam mecum tuorum praeter omnes meos, qui sunt omnes tui. Stomachosiores meas litteras quas dicas esse, non intelligo: bis ad te scripsi me purgans diligenter, te leviter accusans in eo, quod de me cito credidisses: quod genus querelae mihi quidem videbatur esse amici; sin tibi displicet, non utar eo posthac. Sed, si, ut scribis, eae litterae non fuerunt disertae, scito meas non fuisse; ut enim Aristarchus Homeri versum negat, quem non probat, sic tu—libet enim mihi iocari—, quod disertum non erit, ne putaris meum. Vale et in censura—si iam es censor, ut spero—de proavo multum cogitato tuo.
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While I was in camp on the river Pyramus, two letters from you were delivered to me at the same time, forwarded by Quintus Servilius from Tarsus. One was dated April 5; the other, which seemed to me more recent, had no date. I will therefore answer the first one first, in which you tell me about your acquittal on the charge of maiestas [an offense against the dignity or security of the Roman state].
I had already long ago learned of it from letters, messages, and finally common report, for nothing could be better known. This was not because anyone had expected a different result, but because no report about men of distinguished reputation usually gets abroad without causing a stir. Still, your letter increased the satisfaction I felt at the news, not only because it spoke clearly and more fully than public talk, but also because, hearing your own account from yourself, I felt more truly able to congratulate you.
So I embraced you in imagination, since you were not here, and, kissing the letter itself, congratulated myself as well. Compliments paid by the whole people, the senate, and the jurors to ability, energy, and virtue, qualities I perhaps flatter myself in imagining I possess, I regard as paid to me too.
What astonishes me is not so much the splendid result of your trial as the perverted intelligence of your enemies. "Bribery or maiestas," you will say, "what difference does it make which charge?" Substantially, none: you have never touched the former, and the latter you have advanced rather than injured. But maiestas, despite Sulla, is so vague in nature that anyone can safely be denounced under it, while bribery has such a definite meaning that either the accusation or the defense must be discreditable. How can there be doubt whether bribery was employed or not? Who ever suspected your successive elections?
How unlucky that I was not there. What roars of laughter I would have caused. But as for the trial for maiestas, two things in your letter gave me very great pleasure. One was your saying that you were defended by the republic itself. Even if good and brave citizens were as plentiful as possible, the republic ought still to preserve men like you; in the actual state of affairs it is more bound than ever to do so, when there is such a shortage of such men in every office and every age that a state so bereaved ought to welcome guardians like you with open arms.
The other was your wonderfully high praise of the good faith and good feeling of Pompey and Brutus. I am delighted by their honorable conduct and cordial kindness, both because they are your relatives and very dear friends of mine, and because one of them is the first man of every age and country, while the other has long been the first of our younger men and will soon, I hope, be first among all citizens.
As to having the witnesses who took bribes punished with disgrace by their several communities, unless something has already been done through Flaccus, it shall be done through me on my return journey through Asia.
Now I come to your second letter. You send me, as it were, a sketch plan of the situation affecting us both and of the whole political condition. In this, the wisdom of your letter greatly relieved me. I see that the dangers ahead are less formidable than I feared, and the safeguards greater, if, as you say, all the real strength of the state has devoted itself to Pompey as leader. At the same time I saw that your spirit was alert and keen in defense of the republic, and I felt great pleasure at the energy that made you decide, despite very pressing engagements, that the state of public affairs should be known to me through you.
By all means keep the books on augural science for the time when we take a holiday together. When I wrote pressing you to fulfill your promise, I was thinking of you as outside the walls and enjoying complete leisure. As things are, instead of the augural books, I shall expect all your speeches complete.
Decimus Tullius, to whom you gave a message for me, has not yet come to see me. At present I have none of your friends with me, only my own, though they are all yours too.
I do not understand what you mean by my "somewhat angry letter." I have written to you twice, carefully clearing myself and only gently faulting you for being too ready to believe things about me. That kind of complaint seems to me proper between friends. But if you do not like it, I will not use it again.
If, as you say, the letter was badly written, be sure it was not mine. Just as Aristarchus denies that any verse he dislikes is Homer's, so you, if you will excuse the joke, should consider nothing badly written to be mine.
Farewell. In your censorship, if you are now censor, as I hope you are, think often of your ancestor.
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
XI. Scr. in castris ad Pyramum mense Iunio (post Nonas) a.u.c. 704. M. CICERO AP. PULCHRO, ut spero, CENSORI S. D.
Cum essem in castris ad fluvium Pyramum, redditae mihi sunt uno tempore a te epistulae duae, quas ad me Q. Servilius Tarso miserat: earum in altera dies erat ascriptus Nonarum Aprilium; in altera, quae mihi recentior videbatur, dies non erat. Respondebo igitur superiori prius, in qua scribis ad me de absolutione maiestatis. De qua etsi permulto ante certior factus eram litteris, nuntiis, fama denique ipsa—nihil enim fuit clarius, non quo quisquam aliter putasset, sed nihil de insignibus ad laudem viris obscure nuntiari solet—, tamen eadem illa laetiora fecerunt mihi tuae litterae, non solum quia planius loquebantur et uberius quam vulgi sermo, sed etiam quia magis videbar tibi gratulari, cum de te ex te ipso audiebam. Complexus igitur sum cogitatione te absentem; epistulam vero osculatus, etiam ipse mihi gratulatus sum; quae enim a cuncto populo, a senatu, a iudicibus ingenio, industriae, virtuti tribuuntur, quia mihi ipse assentor fortasse, cum ea esse in me fingo, mihi quoque ipsi tribui puto. Nec tam gloriosum exitum tui iudicii exstitisse, sed tam pravam inimicorum tuorum mentem fuisse mirabar. "De ambitu vero, quid interest," inquies, "an de maiestate?" ad rem nihil; alterum enim non attigisti, alteram auxisti; verumtamen ea est maiestas, ut Sulla voluit, ut in quemvis impune declamari liceret, ambitus vero ita apertam vim habet, ut aut accusetur improbe aut defendatur; qui enim facta aut non facta largitio ignorari potest? tuorum autem honorum cursus cui suspectus umquam fuit? Me miserum, qui non affuerim! quos ego risus excitassem! Sed de maiestatis iudicio duo mihi illa ex tuis litteris iucundissima fuerunt: unum, quod te ab ipsa re publica defensum scribis, quae quidem etiam in summa bonorum et fortium civium copia tueri tales viros deberet, nunc vero eo magis, quod tanta penuria est in omni vel honoris vel aetatis gradu, ut tam orba civitas tales tutores complecti debeat; alterum, quod Pompeii et Bruti fidem benevolentiamque mirifice laudas: laetor virtute et officio cum tuorum necessariorum, meorum amicissimorum, tum alterius omnium saeculorum et gentium principis, alterius iam pridem iuventutis, celeriter, ut spero, civitatis. De mercenariis testibus a suis civitatibus notandis, nisi iam factum aliquid est per Flaccum, fiet a me, cum per Asiam decedam. Nunc ad alteram epistulam venio. Quod ad me quasi formam communium temporum et totius rei publicae misisti expressam, prudentia litterarum tuarum valde mihi est grata—video enim et pericula leviora, quam timebam, et maiora praesidia, si quidem, ut scribis, omnes vires civitatis se ad Pompeii ductum applicaverunt—tuumque simul promptum animum et alacrem perspexi ad defendendam rem publicam, mirificamque cepi voluptatem ex hac tua diligentia, quod in summis tuis occupationibus mihi tamen rei publica statum per te notum esse voluisti: nam augurales libros ad commune utriusque nostrum otium serva; ego enim, a te cum tua promissa per litteras flagitabam, ad urbem te otiosissimum esse arbitrabar, nunc tamen, ut ipse polliceris, pro auguralibus libris orationes tuas confectas omnes exspectabo. D. Tullius, cui mandata ad me dedisti, non convenerat me; nec erat iam quisquam mecum tuorum praeter omnes meos, qui sunt omnes tui. Stomachosiores meas litteras quas dicas esse, non intelligo: bis ad te scripsi me purgans diligenter, te leviter accusans in eo, quod de me cito credidisses: quod genus querelae mihi quidem videbatur esse amici; sin tibi displicet, non utar eo posthac. Sed, si, ut scribis, eae litterae non fuerunt disertae, scito meas non fuisse; ut enim Aristarchus Homeri versum negat, quem non probat, sic tu—libet enim mihi iocari—, quod disertum non erit, ne putaris meum. Vale et in censura—si iam es censor, ut spero—de proavo multum cogitato tuo.