As to my having written you word that I meant to go to Epirus, I changed

my plan when I saw that my hope was vanishing and fading away, and did

not remove from Thessalonica. I resolved to remain there until I heard

from you on the subject mentioned in your last letter, namely, that

there was going to be some motion made in the senate on my case

immediately after the elections, and that Pompey had told you so.

Wherefore, as the elections are over and I have no letter from you, I

shall consider it as though you had written to say that nothing has come

of it, and I shall not feel annoyed at having been buoyed up by a hope

which did not keep me long in suspense. But the movement, which you said

in your letter that you foresaw as likely to be to my advantage, people

arriving here tell me will not occur.[330] My sole remaining hope is in

the tribunes-designate: and if I wait to see how that turns out, you

will have no reason to think of me as having been wanting to my own

cause or the wishes of my friends. As to your constantly finding fault

with me for being so overwhelmed by my misfortune, you ought to pardon

me when you see that I have sustained a more crushing blow than anyone

you have ever seen or heard of. As to your saying that you are told that

my intellect in even affected by grief, that is not so; my intellect is

quite sound. Oh that it had been as much so in the hour of danger! when

I found those, to whom I thought my safety was the dearest object of

their life, most bitterly and unfeelingly hostile: who, when they saw

that I had somewhat lost my balance from fear, left nothing undone which

malice and treachery could suggest in giving me the final push, to my

utter ruin. Now, as I must go to Cyzicus, where I shall get letters

more rarely, I beg you to write me word all the more carefully of

everything you may think I ought to know. Be sure you are affectionate

to my brother Quintus: if in all my misery I still leave him with rights

undiminished, I shall not consider myself utterly ruined.

5 August.

[Footnote 330: The probable split among the triumvirs, alluded to in

Letter LXIII.]

LXXI (Q FR I, 4)

TO HIS BROTHER QUINTUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, AUGUST

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

I beg you, my dear brother, if you and all my family have been ruined by

my single misfortune, not to attribute it to dishonesty and bad conduct

on my part, rather than to short-sightedness and the wretched state I

was in. I have committed no fault except in trusting those whom I

believed to be bound by the most sacred obligation not to deceive me, or

whom I thought to be even interested in not doing so. All my most

intimate, nearest and dearest friends were either alarmed for themselves

or jealous of me: the result was that all I lacked was good faith on the

part of my friends and caution on my own.[331] But if your own blameless

character and the compassion of the world prove sufficient to preserve

you at this juncture from molestation, you can, of course, observe

whether any hope of restoration is left for me. For Pomponius, Sestius,

and my son-in-law Piso have caused me as yet to stay at Thessalonica,

forbidding me, on account of certain impending movements, to increase my

distance. But in truth I am awaiting the result more on account of their

letters than from any firm hope of my own. For what can I hope with an

enemy possessed of the most formidable power, with my detractors masters

of the state, with friends unfaithful, with numbers of people jealous?

However, of the new tribunes there is one, it is true, most warmly

attached to me--Sestius--and I hope Curius, Milo, Fadius, Fabricius;

but still there is Clodius in violent opposition, who even when out of

office will be able to stir up the passions of the mob by the help of

that same gang, and then there will be found some one also to veto the

bill.

Such a state of things was not put before me when I was leaving Rome,

but I often used to be told that I was certain to return in three days

with the greatest _éclat_. "What made you go, then?" you will say. What,

indeed! Many circumstances concurred to throw me off my balance--the

defection of Pompey, the hostility of the consuls, and of the prætors

also, the timidity of the _publicani_, the armed bands. The tears of my

friends prevented me seeking refuge in death, which would certainly have

been the best thing for my honour, the best escape from unbearable

sorrows. But I have written to you on this subject in the letter I gave

to Phaetho. Now that you have been plunged into griefs and troubles,

such as no one ever was before, if the compassion of the world can

lighten our common misfortune, you will, it seems, score a success

beyond belief! But if we are both utterly ruined--ah me!--I shall have

been the absolute destruction of my whole family, to whom I used to be

at least no discredit! But pray, as I said in a previous letter to you,

look into the business, test it thoroughly, and write to me with the

candour which our situation demands, and not as your affection for me

would dictate. I shall retain my life as long as I shall think that it

is in your interest for me to do so, or that it ought to be preserved

with a view to future hope. You will find Sestius most friendly to us,

and I believe that Lentulus, the coming consul, will also be so for your

sake. However, deeds are not so easy as words. You will see what is

wanted and what the truth is. On the whole, supposing that no one takes

advantage of your unprotected position and our common calamity, it is by

your means, or not at all, that something may be effected. But even if

your enemies have begun to annoy you, don't flinch: for _you_ will be

attacked by legal process, not by swords. However, I hope that this may

not occur. I beg you to write me back word on all subjects, and to

believe that though I have less spirit and resource than in old times, I

have quite as much affection and loyalty.

[Footnote 331: Reading _defuit_ for _fuit_.]

LXXII (A III, 15)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, 17 AUGUST

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

On the 13th of August I received four letters from you: one in which you

urge me in a tone of reproof to be less weak; a second, in which you say

that Crassus's freedman has told you about my anxiety and leanness; a

third, in which you describe the proceedings in the senate; a fourth on

the subject of Varro's assurances to you as to the friendly feelings of

Pompey.

To the first my answer is this: though I do grieve, yet I keep all my

mental faculties, and it is precisely that which vexes me--I have no

opportunity and no one with whom to employ so sound an intellect. For if

you cannot find yourself separated from one individual like myself

without sorrow, what do you think must be my case, who am deprived both

of you and of everyone else? And if you, while still in possession of

all your rights, miss me, to what an extent do you think those rights

are missed by me? I will not enumerate the things of which I have been

despoiled, not only because you are not ignorant of them, but also lest

I should reopen my own sorrow. I only assert this, that never did anyone

in an unofficial position possess such great advantages, or fall into

such great miseries. Moreover, lapse of time not only does not soften

this grief, it even enhances it. For other sorrows are softened by age,

this one cannot but be daily increased both by my sense of present

misery and the recollection of my past life. For it is not only property

or friends that I miss, but myself. For what am I? But I will not allow

myself either to wring your soul with my complaints, or to place my

hands too often on my wounds. For as to your defence of those whom I

said had been jealous of me, and among them Cato, I indeed think that he

was so far removed from that crime, that I am above all things sorry

that the pretended zeal of others had more influence with me than his

honesty. As for your excuses for the others, they ought to be excused

in my eyes if they are so in yours. But all this is an old story now.

Crassus's freedman, I think, spoke without any real sincerity. In the

senate you say that the debate was satisfactory. But what about Curio?

Hasn't he read that speech? I can't make out how it got into

circulation! But Axius, in describing the proceedings of the same day,

does not speak so highly of Curio.[332] But he may be omitting

something; I know you have certainly not written anything except what

actually occurred. Varro's talk gives me some hope of Cæsar, and would

that Varro himself would throw himself into the cause! Which he

certainly will do, both of his own accord and under pressure from you.

For myself, if fortune ever grants me the enjoyment of you all and of my

country, I will at least take care that you shall, above all the rest of

my friends, have cause to be glad: and I will so discharge all the

duties of affection and friendship, which (to confess the truth) have

not heretofore been conspicuous, that you shall regard me as restored to

yourself as much as to my brother and my children. If I have in any way

sinned in my conduct to you, or rather since I have done so, pardon me.

For I have sinned more grievously against myself. And I do not write

this to you because I know you not to feel deeply for my misfortune: but

certainly if it had been a matter of _obligation_ with you, and had

always been so, to love me as much as you do and have done, you would

never have allowed me to lack that judgment with which you are so well

supplied,[333] nor would you have allowed me to be persuaded that the

passing of the bill for the "colleges" was to our advantage.[334] But

you did nothing but weep over my sorrow, as though you were my second

self. This was indeed a sign of your affection: but what might have been

done, if I had earned it at your hands--the spending by you of days and

nights in thinking out the course I ought to have pursued--that was

omitted, owing to my own culpable imprudence, not yours. Now if, I don't

say you only, but if there had been anyone to urge me, when alarmed at

Pompey's ungenerous answer,[335] not to adopt that most degrading

course--and you are the person that, above all others, could have done

it--I should either have died honourably, or we should have been living

to-day triumphant. In this you must forgive me. For I find much greater

fault with myself, and only call you in question afterwards, as at once

my second self and the sharer in my error; and, besides, if I am ever

restored, our mistake will seem still less in my eyes, and to you at

least I shall be endeared by your own kindness, since there is none on

my side.[336] There is something in the suggestion you mentioned as

having been made in your conversation with Culleo as to a

_privilegium_,[337] but by far the better course is to have the law

repealed. For if no one vetoes it, what course can be safer? But if

anyone is found to prohibit its passing, he will be equally able to veto

a decree of the senate. Nor is there need for the repeal of anything

else. For the previous law did not touch me: and if, on its publication,

I had chosen to speak in its favour, or to ignore it, as it ought to

have been ignored, it could not have done me any harm at all.[338] It

was at this point first that my judgment failed to assist me, nay, even

did me harm. Blind, blind, I say, was I in laying aside my senator's

toga, and in entreating the people; it was a fatal step to take before

some attack had been begun upon me by name.[339] But I am harping on the

past: it is, however, for the purpose of advising you, if any action is

to be taken, not to touch that law, in which there are many provisions

in the interests of the people. But it is foolish for me to be laying

down rules as to what you are to do and how. I only wish that something

may be done! And it is on that point that your letter displays much

reserve: I presume, to prevent my being too much agitated by despair.

For what action do you see possible to be taken, or in what way? Through

the senate? But you yourself told me that Clodius had fixed upon the

doorpost of the senate-house a certain clause in the law, "that it might

neither be put to the house nor mentioned."[340] How could

Domitius,[341] therefore, say that he would bring it before the house?

How came it about also that Clodius held his tongue, when those you

mention in your letter both spoke on the subject and demanded that a

motion should be brought in? But if you go to the people--can it be

carried except with the unanimous approval of the tribunes? What about

my property? What about my house? Will it be possible to have it

restored? Or, if that cannot, how can I be? Unless you see these

difficulties on the way to be solved, what is the hope to which you

invite me? But if, again, there is no hope, what sort of life is there

for me? So I await at Thessalonica the gazette of the proceedings of the

1st of August, in accordance with which I shall decide whether to take

refuge on your estate, in order at once to avoid seeing people I don't

want to see, to see you, according to your letter, and to be nearer at

hand in case of any motion being made (and this I understand is in

accordance with your view and that of my brother Quintus), or to depart

for Cyzicus. Now, my dear Pomponius, since you imparted to me none of

your wisdom in time to save me, either because you had made up your mind

that I had judgment enough of my own, or that you owed me nothing beyond

being by my side; and since, betrayed, beguiled, and hurried into a

snare as I was, I neglected all my defences, abandoned and left Italy,

which was everywhere on the _qui vive_ to defend me, and surrendered

myself and mine into the hands of enemies while you looked on and said

nothing, though, even if you were not my superior in mental power, you

were at least in less of a fright: now, if you can, raise the fallen,

and in that way assist me! But if every avenue is barred, take care that

I know that also, and cease at length either to scold me or to offer

your kindly-meant consolations. If I had meant to impeach your good

faith, I should not have chosen your roof, of all others, to which to

trust myself: it is my own folly that I blame for having thought that

your love for me was exactly what I could have wished it to be:[342] for

if that had been so, you would have displayed the same good faith, but

greater circumspection; at least, you would have held me back when

plunging headlong into ruin, and would not have had to encounter the

labours which you are now enduring in saving the wrecks of my fortunes.

Wherefore do be careful to look into, examine thoroughly, and write

fully everything that occurs, and resolve (as I am sure you do) that I

shall be _some one_, since I cannot now be the man I was and the man I

might have been; and lastly, believe that in this letter it is not you,

but myself that I have accused. If there are any people to whom you

think that letters ought to be delivered in my name, pray compose them

and see them delivered.

17 August.

[Footnote 332: Or, as Prof. Tyrrell suggests, "does not quote Curio to

that effect." I think, however, that Cicero does not use _laudo_ in this

sense except in connexion with _auctorem_, _auctores_, and even then

generally with a subsense, at least, of commendation. The speech was

composed to be delivered against the elder Curio and Clodius (see p.

155), but was never delivered. Its personal tone made it dangerous now.]

[Footnote 333: Cicero means that Atticus acted with the emotion

spontaneously arising from his affection, but not with the caution which

he would have shewn in doing a thing which he was under some obligation

to do.]

[Footnote 334: The ancient "colleges" or "clubs" had been gradually

increasing, and a decree of the senate in B.C. 64 had declared certain

of them unlawful. But Clodius had overridden this decree by a _lex_

early in B.C. 58, and many new ones were formed, which he used for his

political purposes (_pro Sest._ § 55; Dio, xxxviii. 13).]

[Footnote 335: That he could do nothing against the wishes of Cæsar

(_Att._ x. 4, § 3; cp. _in Pis._ § 77). According to Plutarch, Pompey

avoided a personal interview (_Cic._ 31).]

[Footnote 336: The kindness has been all on the side of Atticus, who

will therefore be attached to the object of it--for the benefactor loves

more than the benefited.]

[Footnote 337: A _privilegium_ was a law referring to a particular

person, which was forbidden by the twelve tables, and if it was shewn to

be unconstitutional a decree of the senate could declare it void. But

Cicero seems to think that such a proceeding of the senate would give a

possibility of raising the question afresh.]

[Footnote 338: The first bill named no one, but enacted that "anyone who

had put a citizen to death uncondemned should be forbidden fire and

water." The second, "that M. Tullius be forbidden fire and water."

Cicero says that the former did not touch him, I suppose, because it

could not be retrospective. This is in accordance with the view of

Cæsar, who approved of the law, but said that old sores ought not to be

ripped up--οὐ μὴν καὶ προσήκειν ἐπὶ παρεληλυθόσι τοιοῦτόν τινα νόμον

συγγράφεσθει (Dio, xxxviii. 17).]

[Footnote 339: Because it shewed that he considered himself as coming

under the new law.]

[Footnote 340: Letter LXVIII, p. 154.]

[Footnote 341: L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, who was a prætor this year.]

[Footnote 342: Though Cicero uses _tantum ... quantum_ here, he does not

mean that Atticus failed to love him enough--that would have been too

unreasonable. In a certain way he means that he loved him too much. He

allowed his spontaneous feelings full vent, without acting with the cool

wisdom which he would have shewn in fulfilling a duty or moral

obligation. It is more fully expressed above. Still, it was a difficult

thing to say, and he doesn't succeed in making it very clear.]

LXXIII (A III, 16)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, 19 AUGUST

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

My whole journey is in suspense till I receive letters from you all of

the 1st of August. For if there turns out to be any hope, I am for

Epirus: if not, I shall make for Cyzicus or some other place. Your

letter is cheerful[343] indeed, but at the same time, the oftener I read

it, the more it weakens the suggested ground for hope, so that it is

easy to see that you are trying to minister at once to consolation and

to truth. Accordingly, I beg you to write to me exactly what you know

and exactly what you think.

19 August.

[Footnote 343: Reading _lætæ_ for _lectæ_.]

LXXIV (A III, 17)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, 4 SEPTEMBER

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

News of my brother Quintus of an invariably gloomy nature reached me

from the 3rd of June up to the 29th of August. On that day, however,

Livineius, a freedman of Lucius Regulus, came to me by the direction of

Regulus himself.[344] He announced that absolutely no notice whatever

had been given of a prosecution, but that there had, nevertheless, been

some talk about the son of C. Clodius.[345] He also brought me a letter

from my brother Quintus. But next day came the slaves of Sestius, who

brought me a letter from you not so positive in regard to this alarm as

the conversation of Livineius had been. I am rendered very anxious in

the midst of my own endless distress, and the more so as Appius[346] has

the trial of the case. As to other circumstances mentioned in the same

letter by you in connexion with my hopes, I understand that things are

going less well than other people represent them. I, however, since we

are now not far from the time at which the matter will be decided, will

either go to your house or will still remain somewhere in this

neighbourhood. My brother writes me word that his interests are being

supported by you more than by anyone else. Why should I urge you to do

what you are already doing? or offer you thanks which you do not expect?

I only pray that fortune may give us the opportunity of enjoying our

mutual affection in security. I am always very anxious to get your

letters, in which I beg you not to be afraid of your minuteness boring

me, or your plain speaking giving me pain.

4 September.

[Footnote 344: L. Livineius Regulus, whom Cicero (_F._ xiii. 60) calls a

very intimate friend, and says that his freedman Trypho stood his friend

in the hour of need. He seems to have been condemned (in B.C. 56?) for

something, but he afterwards served under Iulius Cæsar (_B. Afr._ § 9).

The freedman's full name was L. Livineius Trypho.]

[Footnote 345: About Appius acting as prosecutor of Quintus. He was a

nephew of P. Clodius. See Letter CCXXII.]

[Footnote 346: Appius Claudius Pulcher, brother of P. Clodius, was

prætor-designate for B.C. 57, and had allotted to him the _quæstio de

rebus repetundis_ (_pro Sest._ § 78). He was consul B.C. 54.]

LXXV (A III, 18)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA (SEPTEMBER)

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

You raised no little flutter in my mind when you said in your letter

that Varro had assured you as a friend that Pompey would certainly take

up my case, and that as soon as he had received a letter from Cæsar,

which he was expecting, he would even name some one to formally carry

out the business. Was that all mere talk, or was the letter from Cæsar

hostile? Is there some ground for hope? You mentioned, too, that Pompey

had also used the expression "after the elections." Pray, as you can

conceive the severity of the troubles by which I am prostrated, and as

you must think it natural to your kindness to do so, inform me fully as

to the whole state of my case. For my brother Quintus, dear good fellow,

who is so much attached to me, fills his letters with hopeful

expressions, fearing, I suppose, my entirely losing heart. Whereas your

letters vary in tone; for you won't have me either despair or cherish

rash hopes. I beseech you to let me know everything as far as you can

detect the truth.

LXXVI (A III, 19)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, 15 SEPTEMBER

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

As long as my letters from you all continued to be of such a nature as

to keep expectation alive, I was bound to Thessalonica by hope and eager

longing: afterwards, when all political measures for this year appeared

to me to be over, I yet determined not to go to Asia, both because a

crowd of people is disagreeable to me, and because, in case any movement

was set on foot by the new magistrates, I was unwilling to be far off.

Accordingly, I resolved to go to your house in Epirus, not because the

natural features of the country mattered to me, shunning as I do the

light of day altogether, but because it will be most grateful to my

feelings to set out from a harbour of yours to my restoration; and, if

that restoration is denied me, there is no place where I shall with

greater ease either support this most wretched existence or (which is

much better) rid myself of it. I shall be in a small society: I shall

shake off the crowd. Your letters have never raised me to such a pitch

of hope as those of others; and yet my hopes have always been less warm

than your letters. Nevertheless, since a beginning has been made in the

case, of whatever sort and from whatever motive, I will not disappoint

the sad and touching entreaties of my best and only brother, nor the

promises of Sestius and others, nor the hopes of my most afflicted wife,

nor the entreaties of my most unhappy Tulliola, as well as your own

loyal letter. Epirus will furnish me with a road to restoration or to

that other alternative mentioned above. I beg and entreat of you, Titus

Pomponius, as you see that I have been despoiled by the treachery of men

of all that most adds splendour to life, of all that can most gratify

and delight the soul, as you see that I have been betrayed and cast away

by my own advisers, as you understand that I have been forced to ruin

myself and my family--help me by your compassion, and support my brother

Quintus, who is still capable of being saved; protect Terentia and my

children. For myself, if you think it possible that you may see me at

Rome, wait for me; if not, come to see me if you can, and make over to

me just so much of your land as may be covered by my corpse. Finally,

send slaves to me with letters as soon and as often as possible.

15 September.

LXXVII (A III, 20)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)

THESSALONICA, 4 OCTOBER

_Cicero greets Q. Cæcilius Pomponianus Atticus, son of Quintus._[347]

[Sidenote: B.C. 58, ÆT. 48]

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