Letter 9.26

I had reclined at the ninth hour when I scrawled this copy on my tablets for you. You will ask: "Where?" At the house of Volumnius Eutrapelus, and indeed with Atticus above me and Verrius below me -- friends of yours. Are you surprised that our slavery has become so cheerful? What then should I do? I consult you, who attend a philosopher. Should I grieve? Should I torment myself? What would I gain? And to what end? "Live," you say, "in your literary studies." Do you think I do anything else, or that I could live at all if I did not live in my studies? But even of these there is not exactly a satiety, but a certain limit. When I have left them, although dinner means very little to me -- which is the one philosophical problem you posed to Dio the philosopher -- still I cannot find anything better to do before I go to bed. Hear the rest: below Eutrapelus, Cytheris was reclining. "In that company then," you say, "was that famous Cicero, at whom men gazed, to whose face the Greeks turned their own?" By Hercules, I had not suspected she would be there. But not even the famous Aristippus the Socratic blushed when it was objected that he kept Lais: "I keep her," he said, "I am not kept by her" -- this is better in Greek; you may translate if you wish. As for me, nothing of that sort has ever moved me, not even as a young man, much less now as an old one. The dinner party delights me; there I talk about whatever comes up, as they say, and convert my groans into the heartiest laughter. Or are you any better, you who even mocked the philosopher? When he had said "if anyone has any question," you said you had been looking for your dinner since morning. That boor thought you were going to ask whether there is one universe or infinitely many. What is that to you? But by Hercules, the dinner was not... especially for you! So this is how I live: every day something is read or written; then, so as not to give nothing to my friends, we feast together, not only not contrary to the law, if there is any law now, but even within the law and indeed well within it. So there is nothing for you to dread about my arrival. You will receive a guest who eats little but jokes much.

CDLXXVII (Fam. IX, 26) TO L. PAPIRIUS PAETUS (AT NAPLES) ROME (AUGUST?) I have just lain down to dinner at three o'clock, when I scribble a copy of this note to you in my pocket-book. You will say, “where?” With Volumnius Eutrapelus . One place above me is Atticus , one below Verrius , both friends of yours. Do you wonder that our slavery is made so gay? Well, what am I to do? I ask your advice as the pupil of a philosopher. Am I to be miserable, to torment myself? What should I get by that? And, moreover, how long? “Live with your books,” say you. Well, do you suppose that I do anything else? Or could I have kept alive, had I not lived with my books? But even to them there is, I don't say a surfeit, but a certain limit. When I have left them, though I care very little about my dinner — the one problem which you put before the philosopher Dion — still, what better to do with my time before taking myself off to bed I cannot discover. Now listen to the rest. Below Eutrapelus lay Cytheris . At such a party as that, say you, was the famous Cicero , “To whom all looked with reverence, on whose face Greeks turned their eyes with wonder?” To tell you the truth, I had no suspicion that she would be there. But, after all, even the Socratic Aristippus himself did not blush when he was taunted with having Lais as his mistress: “Yes,” quoth he, “ Lais is my mistress, but not my master.” It is better in Greek; you must make a translation yourself, if you want one. As for myself, the fact is that that sort of thing never had any attraction for me when I was a young man, much less now I am an old one. I like a dinner party. I talk freely there, whatever comes upon the tapis, as the phrase is, and convert sighs into loud bursts of laughter. Did you behave better in jeering at a philosopher and saying, when he invited anyone to put any question he chose, that the question you asked the first thing in the morning was: “Where shall I dine?” The blockhead thought that you were going to inquire whether there was one heaven or an infinite number! What did you care about that? “Well, but, in heaven's name — you will say to me — ”was a dinner a great matter to you, and there of all places?" Well then, my course of life is this. Every day something read or written: then, not to be quite churlish to my friends, I dine with them, not only without exceeding the law, but even within it, and that by a good deal. So you have no reason to be terrified at the idea of my arrival. You will receive a guest of moderate appetite, but of infinite jest.

XXVI. Scr. Romae mense Octobri a.u.c. 708. CICERO PAETO S. D. Accubueram hora nona, cum ad te harum exemplum in codicillis exaravi. Dices: "ubi?" Apud Volumnium Eutrapelum, et quidem supra me Atticus, infra Verrius, familiares tui. Miraris tam exhilaratam esse servitutem nostram? Quid ergo faciam?—te consulo, qui philosophum audis—. Angar? excruciem me? quid assequar? deinde quem ad finem? "Vivas," inquis, "in litteris." An quidquam me aliud egere censes aut possem vivere, nisi in litteris viverem? Sed est earum etiam non satietas, sed quidam modus; a quibus cum discessi, etsi minimum mihi est in coena—quod tu unum zÆthma Dioni philosopho posuisti—, tamen, quid potius faciam, priusquam me dormitum conferam, non reperio. Audi reliqua: infra Eutrapelum Cytheris accubuit. "In eo igitur," inquis, "convivio Cicero ille, quem aspectabant, cuius ob os Graii ora obvertebant sua?" Non mehercule suspicatus sum illam affore; sed tamen ne Aristippus quidem ille Socraticus erubuit, cum esset obiectum habere eum Laida: "habeo," inquit, "non habeor [a Laide]"—Graece hoc melius; tu, si voles, interpretabere—; me vero nihil istorum ne iuvenem quidem movit umquam, ne nunc senem: convivio delector; ibi loquor, quod in solum, ut dicitur, et gemitum in risus maximos transfero. An tu id melius, qui etiam philosophum irriseris: cum ille, "si quis quid quaereret," dixisset, coenam te quaerere a mane dixeris? ille baro te putabat quaesiturum, unum caelum esset an innumerabilia. Quid id ad te? At hercule cena non ***, tibi praesertim? Sic igitur vivitur: quotidie aliquid legitur aut scribitur; dein, ne amicis nihil tribuamus, epulamur una non modo non contra legem, si ulla nunc lex est, sed etiam intra legem et quidem aliquanto; quare nihil est, quod adventum nostrum extimescas: non multi cibi hospitem accipies, multi ioci. Cicero