You ask me what has happened about the trial, the result of which was so

contrary to the general expectation, and at the same time you want to

know how I came to make a worse fight of it than usual. I will answer

the last first, after the manner of Homer.[94] The fact is that, so long

as I had to defend the authority of the senate,[95] I battled with such

gallantry and vigour that there were shouts of applause and crowds round

me in the house ringing with my praise. Nay, if you ever thought that I

shewed courage in political business, you certainly would have admired

my conduct in that cause. For when the culprit had betaken himself to

public meetings, and had made an invidious use of my name, immortal

gods! What battles! What havoc! What sallies I made upon Piso, Curio, on

the whole of that set! How I fell upon the old men for their

instability, on the young for their profligacy! Again and again, so help

me heaven! I regretted your absence not only as the supporter of my

policy, but as the spectator also of my admirable fighting. However,

when Hortensius hit on the idea of a law as to the sacrilege being

proposed by the tribune Fufius, in which there was no difference from

the bill of the consul except as to the kind of jurymen--on that point,

however, the whole question turned--and got it carried by sheer

fighting, because he had persuaded himself and others that _he_ could

not get an acquittal no matter who were the jurymen, I drew in my sails,

seeing the neediness of the jurors, and gave no evidence beyond what was

so notorious and well attested that I could not omit it.[96] Therefore,

if you ask the reason of the acquittal--to return at length to the

former of the two questions--it was entirely the poverty and low

character of the jury. But that this was possible was entirely the

result of Hortensius's policy. In his alarm lest Fufius should veto the

law which was to be proposed in virtue of a senatorial decree, he failed

to see that it was better that the culprit should be left under a cloud

of disgrace and dishonour than that he should be trusted to the

discretion of a weak jury. But in his passionate resentment he hastened

to bring the case into court, saying that a leaden sword was good enough

to cut _his_ throat. But if you want to know the history of the trial,

with its incredible verdict, it was such that Hortensius's policy is now

blamed by other people after the event, though I disapproved of it from

the first. When the rejection of jurors had taken place, amidst loud

cheers and counter-cheers--the accuser like a strict censor rejecting

the most worthless, the defendant like a kind-hearted trainer of

gladiators all the best--as soon as the jury had taken their seats, the

loyalists at once began to feel distrust. There never was a seedier lot

round a table in a gambling hell. Senators under a cloud, equites out at

elbows, tribunes who were not so much made of money as "collectors" of

it, according to their official title.[97] However, there were a few

honest men in the panel, whom he had been unable to drive off it by

rejection, and they took their seats among their uncongenial comrades

with gloomy looks and signs of emotion, and were keenly disgusted at

having to rub elbows with such rascals. Hereupon, as question after

question was referred to the panel in the preliminary proceedings, the

severity of the decisions passes belief: there was no disagreement in

voting, the defendant carried none of his points, while the accuser got

even more than he asked. He was triumphant. Need I say more? Hortensius

would have it that he was the only one of us who had seen the truth.

There was not a man who did not think it impossible for him to stand his

trial without being condemned a thousand times over. Farther, when I was

produced as a witness, I suppose you have been told how the shouts of

Clodius's supporters were answered by the jury rising to their feet to

gather round me, and openly to offer their throats to P. Clodius in my

defence. This seemed to me a greater compliment than the well-known

occasion when your fellow citizens[98] stopped Xenocrates from taking an

oath in the witness-box, or when, upon the accounts of Metellus

Numidicus[99] being as usual handed round, a Roman jury refused to look

at them. The compliment paid me, I repeat, was much greater.

Accordingly, as the jurymen were protecting me as the mainstay of the

country, it was by their voices that the defendant was overwhelmed, and

with him all his advocates suffered a crushing blow. Next day my house

was visited by as great a throng as that which escorted me home when I

laid down the consulship. Our eminent Areopagites then exclaimed that

they would not come into court unless a guard was assigned them. The

question was put to the whole panel: there was only one vote against the

need of a guard. The question is brought before the senate: the decree

is passed in the most solemn and laudatory terms: the jurymen are

complimented: the magistrates are commissioned to carry it out: no one

thought that the fellow would venture on a defence. "Tell me, ye Muses,

now how first the fire befell!"[100] You know Bald-head, the Nanneian

millionaire,[101] that panegyrist of mine, whose complimentary oration

I have already mentioned to you in a letter. In two days' time, by the

agency of a single slave, and one, too, from a school of gladiators, he

settled the whole business--he summoned them to an interview, made a

promise, offered security, paid money down. Still farther, good heavens,

what a scandal! even favours from certain ladies, and introductions to

young men of rank, were thrown in as a kind of _pourboire_ to some of

the jurors. Accordingly, with the loyalists holding completely aloof,

with the forum full of slaves, twenty-five jurors were yet found so

courageous that, though at the risk of their lives, they preferred even

death to producing universal ruin. There were thirty-one who were more

influenced by famine than fame. On seeing one of these latter Catulus

said to him, "Why did you ask us for a guard? Did you fear being robbed

of the money?" There you have, as briefly as I could put it, the nature

of the trial and the cause of the acquittal.

Next you want to know the present state of public affairs and of my own.

That settlement of the Republic--firmly established by my wisdom, as you

thought, as I thought by God's--which seemed fixed on a sure foundation

by the unanimity of all loyalists and the influence of my

consulship--that I assure you, unless some God take compassion on us,

has by this one verdict escaped from our grasp: if "verdict" it is to be

called, when thirty of the most worthless and dissolute fellows in Rome

for a paltry sum of money obliterate every principle of law and justice,

and when that which every man--I had almost said every animal--knows to

have taken place, a Thalna, a Plautus, and a Spongia, and other scum of

that sort decide not to have taken place. However, to console you as to

the state of the Republic, rascaldom is not as cheerful and exultant in

its victory as the disloyal hoped after the infliction of such a wound

upon the Republic. For they fully expected that when religion, morality,

the honour of juries, and the prestige of the senate had sustained such

a crushing fall, victorious profligacy and lawless lust would openly

exact vengeance from all the best men for the mortification which the

strictness of my consulship had branded in upon all the worst. And it is

once more I--for I do not feel as if I were boasting vaingloriously when

speaking of myself to you, especially in a letter not intended to be

read by others--it was I once more, I say, who revived the fainting

spirits of the loyalists, cheering and encouraging each personally.

Moreover, by my denunciations and invectives against those corrupt

jurors I left none of the favourers and supporters of that victory a

word to say for themselves. I gave the consul Piso no rest anywhere, I

got him deprived of Syria, which had been already plighted to him, I

revived the fainting spirit of the senate and recalled it to its former

severity. I overwhelmed Clodius in the senate to his face, both in a set

speech, very weighty and serious, and also in an interchange of

repartees, of which I append a specimen for your delectation. The rest

lose all point and grace without the excitement of the contest, or, as

you Greeks call it, the ἀγών. Well, at the meeting of the senate on the

15th of May, being called on for my opinion, I spoke at considerable

length on the high interests of the Republic, and brought in the

following passage by a happy inspiration: "Do not, Fathers, regard

yourselves as fallen utterly, do not faint, because you have received

one blow. The wound is one which I cannot disguise, but which I yet feel

sure should not be regarded with extreme fear: to fear would shew us to

be the greatest of cowards, to ignore it the greatest of fools. Lentulus

was twice acquitted, so was Catiline, a third such criminal has now been

let loose by jurors upon the Republic. You are mistaken, Clodius: it is

not for the city but for the prison that the jurors have reserved you,

and their intention was not to retain you in the state, but to deprive

you of the privilege of exile. Wherefore, Fathers, rouse up all your

courage, hold fast to your high calling. There still remains in the

Republic the old unanimity of the loyalists: their feelings have been

outraged, their resolution has not been weakened: no fresh mischief has

been done, only what was actually existing has been discovered. In the

trial of one profligate many like him have been detected."--But what am

I about? I have copied almost a speech into a letter. I return to the

duel of words. Up gets our dandified young gentleman, and throws in my

teeth my having been at Baiæ. It wasn't true, but what did that matter

to him? "It is as though you were to say," replied I, "that I had been

in disguise!" "What business," quoth he, "has an Arpinate with hot

baths?" "Say that to your patron," said I, "who coveted the

watering-place of an Arpinate."[102] For you know about the marine

villa. "How long," said he, "are we to put up with this king?" "Do you

mention a king," quoth I, "when Rex[103] made no mention of you?" He,

you know, had swallowed the inheritance of Rex in anticipation. "You

have bought a house," says he. "You would think that he said," quoth I,

"you have bought a jury." "They didn't trust you on your oath," said he.

"Yes," said I, "twenty-five jurors did trust me, thirty-one didn't trust

you, for they took care to get their money beforehand." Here he was

overpowered by a burst of applause and broke down without a word to say.

My own position is this: with the loyalists I hold the same place as

when you left town, with the tagrag and bobtail of the city I hold a

much better one than at your departure. For it does me no harm that my

evidence appears not to have availed. Envy has been let blood without

causing pain, and even more so from the fact that all the supporters of

that flagitious proceeding confess that a perfectly notorious fact has

been hushed up by bribing the jury. Besides, the wretched starveling

mob, the blood-sucker of the treasury, imagines me to be high in the

favour of Magnus--and indeed we have been mutually united by frequent

pleasant intercourse to such an extent, that our friends the boon

companions of the conspiracy, the young chin-tufts, speak of him in

ordinary conversation as Gnæus Cicero. Accordingly, both in the circus

and at the gladiatorial games, I received a remarkable ovation without a

single cat-call. There is at present a lively anticipation of the

elections, in which, contrary to everybody's wishes, our friend Magnus

is pushing the claims of Aulus's son;[104] and in that matter his

weapons are neither his prestige nor his popularity, but those by which

Philip said that any fortress could be taken--if only an ass laden with

gold could make its way up into it. Farthermore, that precious consul,

playing as it were second fiddle to Pompey,[105] is said to have

undertaken the business and to have bribery agents at his house, which I

don't believe. But two decrees have already passed the house of an

unpopular character, because they are thought to be directed against the

consul on the demand of Cato and Domitius[106]--one that search should

be allowed in magistrates' houses, and a second, that all who had

bribery agents in their houses were guilty of treason. The tribune Lurco

also, having entered on his office irregularly in view of the Ælian law,

has been relieved from the provisions both of the Ælian and Fufian laws,

in order to enable him to propose his law on bribery, which he

promulgated with correct auspices though a cripple.[107] Accordingly,

the _comitia_ have been postponed to the 27th of July. There is this

novelty in his bill, that a man who has promised money among the tribes,

but not paid it, is not liable, but, if he has paid, he is liable for

life to pay 3,000 sesterces to each tribe. I remarked that P. Clodius

had obeyed this law by anticipation, for he was accustomed to promise,

and not pay. But observe! Don't you see that the consulship of which we

thought so much, which Curio used of old to call an apotheosis, if this

Afranius is elected, will become a mere farce and mockery? Therefore I

think one should play the philosopher, as you in fact do, and not care a

straw for your consulships!

You say in your letter that you have decided not to go to Asia. For my

part I should have preferred your going, and I fear that there may be

some offence[108] given in that matter. Nevertheless, I am not the man

to blame you, especially considering that I have not gone to a province

myself. I shall be quite content with the inscriptions you have placed

in your Amaltheium,[109] especially as Thyillus has deserted me and

Archias written nothing about me. The latter, I am afraid, having

composed a Greek poem on the Luculli, is now turning his attention to

the Cæcilian drama.[110] I have thanked Antonius on your account, and I

have intrusted the letter to Mallius. I have heretofore written to you

more rarely because I had no one to whom I could trust a letter, and was

not sure of your address. I have puffed you well. If Cincius should

refer any business of yours to me, I will undertake it. But at present

he is more intent on his own business, in which I am rendering him some

assistance. If you mean to stay any length of time in one place you may

expect frequent letters from me: but pray send even more yourself. I

wish you would describe your Amaltheium to me, its decoration and its

plan; and send me any poems or stories you may have about

Amaltheia.[111] I should like to make a copy of it at Arpinum. I will

forward you something of what I have written. At present there is

nothing finished.

[Footnote 94: ὕστερον πρότερον Ὁμηρικῶς.]

[Footnote 95: That is, the resolution of the senate, that the consuls

should endeavour to get the bill passed.]

[Footnote 96: Cicero deposed to having seen Clodius in Rome three hours

after he swore that he was at Interamna (ninety miles off), thus

spoiling his alibi.]

[Footnote 97: The difficulty of this sentence is well known. The juries

were now made up of three _decuriæ_--senators, equites, and _tribuni

ærarii_. But the exact meaning of _tribuni ærarii_ is not known, beyond

the fact that they formed an _ordo_, coming immediately below the

equites. Possibly they were old tribal officers who had the duty of

distributing pay or collecting taxes (to which the translation supposes

a punning reference), and as such were required to be of a _census_

immediately below that of the equites. I do not profess to be satisfied,

but I cannot think that Professor Tyrrell's proposal makes matters much

easier--_tribuni non tam ærarii, ut appellantur, quam ærati_; for his

translation of _ærati_ as "bribed" is not better supported, and is a

less natural deduction than "moneyed."]

[Footnote 98: _I.e._, the Athenians. Xenocrates of Calchedon (B.C.

396-314), residing at Athens, is said to have been so trusted that his

word was taken as a witness without an oath (Diog. Laert. IV. ii. 4).]

[Footnote 99: Q. Cæcilius Numidicus, consul B.C. 109, commanded against

Iugurtha. The event referred to in the text is said to have occurred on

his trial _de repetundis_, after his return from a province which he had

held as proprætor (Val. Max. II. x. 1).]

[Footnote 100: Hom. _Il._ xvi. 112:

ἕσπετε νῦν μοι, Μοῦσαι, Ὀλύμπια δώματ' ἔχουσαι

ὅππως δὴ πρῶτον πῦρ ἔμπεσε νηυσὶν Ἀχαίων.

]

[Footnote 101: The reference is to Crassus. But the rest is very dark.

The old commentators say that he is here called _ex Nanneianis_ because

he made a large sum of money by the property of one Nanneius, who was

among those proscribed by Sulla. His calling Crassus his "panegyrist" is

explained by Letter XIX, pp. 33-34.]

[Footnote 102: C. Curio, the elder, defended Clodius. He had bought the

villa of Marius (a native of Arpinum) at Baiæ.]

[Footnote 103: Q. Marcius Rex married a sister of Clodius, and dying,

left him no legacy.]

[Footnote 104: L. Afranius.]

[Footnote 105: Reading _deterioris histrionis similis_, "like an

inferior actor."]

[Footnote 106: Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, married to Cato's sister.

Consul B.C. 54. A strong aristocrat and vehement opponent of Cæsar.]

[Footnote 107: Aufidius Lurco had apparently proposed his law on bribery

between the time of the notice of the elections (_indictio_) and the

elections themselves, which was against a provision of the _leges Ælia

et Fufia_. What his breach of the law was in entering on his office

originally we do not know: perhaps some neglect of auspices, or his

personal deformity.]

[Footnote 108: _I.e._ to Quintus Cicero, now proprætor in Asia, who

apparently wished his brother-in-law to come to Asia in some official

capacity.]

[Footnote 109: Some epigrams or inscriptions under a portrait bust of

Cicero in the gymnasium of Atticus's villa at Buthrotum. Atticus had a

taste for such compositions. See Nepos, _Att._ 18; Pliny, _N. H._ 35, §

11.]

[Footnote 110: Cicero had defended Archias, and Thyillus seems also to

have been intimate with him: but he says Archias, after complimenting

the Luculli by a poem, is now doing the same to the Cæcilii Metelli. The

"Cæcilian drama" is a reference to the old dramatist, Cæcilius Statius

(_ob._ B.C. 168).]

[Footnote 111: Of Amaltheia, nurse of Zeus in Crete, there were plenty

of legends. Atticus is making in his house something like what Cicero

had made in his, and called his academia or gymnasium. That of Atticus

was probably also a summer house or study, with garden, fountains, etc.,

and a shrine or statue of Amaltheia.]

XXII (A I, 17)

TO ATTICUS (IN EPIRUS)

ROME, 5 DECEMBER

[Sidenote: B.C. 61, ÆT. 45]

Your letter, in which you inclose copies of his letters, has made me

realize that my brother Quintus's feelings have undergone many

alternations, and that his opinions and judgments have varied widely

from time to time.[112] This has not only caused me all the pain which

my extreme affection for both of you was bound to bring, but it has also

made me wonder what can have happened to cause my brother Quintus such

deep offence, or such an extraordinary change of feeling. And yet I was

already aware, as I saw that you also, when you took leave of me, were

beginning to suspect, that there was some lurking dissatisfaction, that

his feelings were wounded, and that certain unfriendly suspicions had

sunk deep into his heart. On trying on several previous occasions, but

more eagerly than ever after the allotment of his province, to assuage

these feelings, I failed to discover on the one hand that the extent of

his offence was so great as your letter indicates; but on the other I

did not make as much progress in allaying it as I wished. However, I

consoled myself with thinking that there would be no doubt of his seeing

you at Dyrrachium, or somewhere in your part of the country: and, if

that happened, I felt sure and fully persuaded that everything would be

made smooth between you, not only by conversation and mutual

explanation, but by the very sight of each other in such an interview.

For I need not say in writing to you, who know it quite well, how kind

and sweet-tempered my brother is, as ready to forgive as he is sensitive

in taking offence. But it most unfortunately happened that you did not

see him anywhere. For the impression he had received from the artifices

of others had more weight with him than duty or relationship, or the

old affection so long existing between you, which ought to have been the

strongest influence of all. And yet, as to where the blame for this

misunderstanding resides, I can more easily conceive than write: since I

am afraid that, while defending my own relations, I should not spare

yours. For I perceive that, though no actual wound was inflicted by

members of the family, they yet could at least have cured it. But the

root of the mischief in this case, which perhaps extends farther than

appears, I shall more conveniently explain to you when we meet. As to

the letter he sent to you from Thessalonica,[113] and about the language

which you suppose him to have used both at Rome among your friends and

on his journey, I don't know how far the matter went, but my whole hope

of removing this unpleasantness rests on your kindness. For if you will

only make up your mind to believe that the best men are often those

whose feelings are most easily irritated and appeased, and that this

quickness, so to speak, and sensitiveness of disposition are generally

signs of a good heart; and lastly--and this is the main thing--that we

must mutually put up with each other's gaucheries (shall I call them?),

or faults, or injurious acts, then these misunderstandings will, I hope,

be easily smoothed away. I beg you to take this view, for it is the

dearest wish of my heart (which is yours as no one else's can be) that

there should not be one of my family or friends who does not love you

and is not loved by you.

That part of your letter was entirely superfluous, in which you mention

what opportunities of doing good business in the provinces or the city

you let pass at other times as well as in the year of my consulship: for

I am thoroughly persuaded of your unselfishness and magnanimity, nor did

I ever think that there was any difference between you and me except in

our choice of a career. Ambition led me to seek official advancement,

while another and perfectly laudable resolution led you to seek an

honourable privacy. In the true glory, which is founded on honesty,

industry, and piety, I place neither myself nor anyone else above you.

In affection towards myself, next to my brother and immediate family, I

put you first. For indeed, indeed I have seen and thoroughly appreciated

how your anxiety and joy have corresponded with the variations of my

fortunes. Often has your congratulation added a charm to praise, and

your consolation a welcome antidote to alarm. Nay, at this moment of

your absence, it is not only your advice--in which you excel--but the

interchange of speech--in which no one gives me so much delight as you

do--that I miss most, shall I say in politics, in which circumspection

is always incumbent on me, or in my forensic labour, which I formerly

sustained with a view to official promotion, and nowadays to maintain my

position by securing popularity, or in the mere business of my family?

In all these I missed you and our conversations before my brother left

Rome, and still more do I miss them since. Finally, neither my work nor

rest, neither my business nor leisure, neither my affairs in the forum

or at home, public or private, can any longer do without your most

consolatory and affectionate counsel and conversation. The modest

reserve which characterizes both of us has often prevented my mentioning

these facts; but on this occasion it was rendered necessary by that part

of your letter in which you expressed a wish to have yourself and your

character "put straight" and "cleared" in my eyes. Yet, in the midst of

all this unfortunate alienation and anger, there is one fortunate

circumstance--that your determination of not going to a province was

known to me and your other friends, and had been at various times before

distinctly expressed by yourself; so that your not being his guest may

be attributed to your personal tastes and judgments, not to the quarrel

and rupture between you. And so those ties which have been broken will

be restored, and ours which have been so religiously preserved will

retain all their old inviolability.

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