Cæsar and Crassus.]
[Footnote 483: The name of a property of Quintus at Arpinum.]
[Footnote 484: Another property of Quintus near Mintumæ.]
CVI (A IV, 4 b)
TO ATTICUS (RETURNING FROM EPIRUS)
ANTIUM (APRIL)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
It will be delightful if you come to see us here. You will find that
Tyrannio has made a wonderfully good arrangement of my books, the
remains of which are better than I had expected. Still, I wish you would
send me a couple of your library slaves for Tyrannio to employ as
gluers, and in other subordinate work, and tell them to get some fine
parchment to make title-pieces, which you Greeks, I think, call
"sillybi." But all this is only if not inconvenient to you. In any case,
be sure you come yourself, if you can halt for a while in such a place,
and can persuade Pilia[485] to accompany you. For that is only fair, and
Tullia is anxious that she should come. My word! You have purchased a
fine troop! Your gladiators, I am told, fight superbly. If you had
chosen to let them out you would have cleared your expenses by the last
two spectacles. But we will talk about this later on. Be sure to come,
and, as you love me, see about the library slaves.
[Footnote 485: The recently married wife of Atticus. See p. 216.]
CVII (A IV, 5)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
ANTIUM (APRIL)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
Do you really mean it? Do you think that there is anyone by whom I
prefer to have what I write read and approved of before yourself? "Why,
then, did I send it to anyone before you?" I was pressed by the man to
whom I sent it, and had no copy. And--well! I am nibbling at what I
must, after all, swallow--my "recantation"[486] did seem to me a trifle
discreditable! But good-bye to straightforward, honest, and high-minded
policy! One could scarcely believe the amount of treachery there is in
those leaders of the state, as they wish to be, and might be, if they
had any principle of honour in them. I had felt it, known it--taken in,
abandoned, and cast aside by them, as I had been! and yet my purpose
still was to stick by them in politics. They were the same men as they
ever had been. At last, on your advice, my eyes have been opened. You
will say that your advice only extended to action, not to writing also.
The truth is that I wanted to bind myself to this new combination, that
I might have no excuse for slipping back to those who, even at a time
when I could claim their compassion, never cease being jealous of me.
However, I kept within due limits in my subject, when I did put pen to
paper. I shall launch out more copiously if _he_ shews that he is glad
to receive it, and those make wry faces who are angry at my possessing
the villa which once belonged to Catulus, without reflecting that I
bought it from Vettius: who say that I ought not to have built a town
house, and declare that I ought to have sold. But what is all this to
the fact that, when I have delivered senatorial speeches in agreement
with their own views, their chief pleasure has yet been that I spoke
contrary to Pompey's wishes? Let us have an end of it. Since those who
have no power refuse me their affection, let us take care to secure the
affection of those who have power. You will say, "I could have wished
that you had done so before." I know you did wish it, and that I have
made a real ass of myself. But now the time has come to shew a little
affection for myself, since I can get none from them on any terms.
I am much obliged to you for frequently going to see my house.
Crassipes[487] swallows up my money for travelling. Tullia will go
straight to your suburban villa.[488] That seems the more convenient
plan. Consequently she will be at your town house the next day: for what
can it matter to you? But we shall see. Your men have beautified my
library by making up the books and appending title-slips. Please thank
them.
[Footnote 486: παλινφδία--something he had apparently written and sent
to Pompey or Cæsar, giving in his adhesion to the policy of the
triumvirs. It can hardly have been the speech _de Provinciis
Consularibus_ or the _oratio pro Balbo_, which had probably not yet been
delivered, for the arrangement recommended in the former speech was not
that of the conference of Luca, while in the latter, though he speaks
respectfully of Cæsar, there is nothing in the shape of a palinode in
general politics.]
CVIII (F V, 12)
TO L. LUCCEIUS[489]
ARPINUM (APRIL)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
I have often tried to say to you personally what I am about to write,
but was prevented by a kind of almost clownish bashfulness. Now that I am
not in your presence I shall speak out more boldly: a letter does not
blush. I am inflamed with an inconceivably ardent desire, and one, as I
think, of which I have no reason to be ashamed, that in a history
written by _you_ my name should be conspicuous and frequently mentioned
with praise. And though you have often shewn me that you meant to do so,
yet I hope you will pardon my impatience. For the style of your
composition, though I had always entertained the highest expectations of
it, has yet surpassed my hopes, and has taken such a hold upon me, or
rather has so fired my imagination, that I was eager to have my
achievements as quickly as possible put on record in your history. For
it is not only the thought of being spoken of by future ages that makes
me snatch at what seems a hope of immortality, but it is also the desire
of fully enjoying in my lifetime an authoritative expression of your
judgment, or a token of your kindness for me, or the charm of your
genius. Not, however, that while thus writing I am unaware under what
heavy burdens you are labouring in the portion of history you have
undertaken, and by this time have begun to write. But because I saw that
your history of the Italian and Civil Wars was now all but finished, and
because also you told me that you were already embarking upon the
remaining portions of your work, I determined not to lose my chance for
the want of suggesting to you to consider whether you preferred to weave
your account of me into the main context of your history, or whether, as
many Greek writers have done--Callisthenes, the Phocian War; Timæus, the
war of Pyrrhus; Polybius, that of Numantia; all of whom separated the
wars I have named from their main narratives--you would, like them,
separate the civil conspiracy from public and external wars. For my
part, I do not see that it matters much to my reputation, but it does
somewhat concern my impatience, that you should not wait till you come
to the proper place, but should at once anticipate the discussion of
that question as a whole and the history of that epoch. And at the same
time, if your whole thoughts are engaged on one incident and one person,
I can see in imagination how much fuller your material will be, and how
much more elaborately worked out. I am quite aware, however, what little
modesty I display, first, in imposing on you so heavy a burden (for your
engagements may well prevent your compliance with my request), and in
the second place, in asking you to shew me off to advantage. What if
those transactions are not in your judgment so very deserving of
commendation? Yet, after all, a man who has once passed the border-line
of modesty had better put a bold face on it and be frankly impudent. And
so I again and again ask you outright, both to praise those actions of
mine in warmer terms than you perhaps feel, and in that respect to
neglect the laws of history. I ask you, too, in regard to the personal
predilection, on which you wrote in a certain introductory chapter in
the most gratifying and explicit terms--and by which you shew that you
were as incapable of being diverted as Xenophon's Hercules by
Pleasure--not to go against it, but to yield to your affection for me a
little more than truth shall justify. But if I can induce you to
undertake this, you will have, I am persuaded, matter worthy of your
genius and your wealth of language. For from the beginning of the
conspiracy to my return from exile it appears to me that a
moderate-sized monograph might be composed, in which you will, on the
one hand, be able to utilize your special knowledge of civil
disturbances, either in unravelling the causes of the revolution or in
proposing remedies for evils, blaming meanwhile what you think deserves
denunciation, and establishing the righteousness of what you approve by
explaining the principles on which they rest: and on the other hand, if
you think it right to be more outspoken (as you generally do), you will
bring out the perfidy, intrigues, and treachery of many people towards
me. For my vicissitudes will supply you in your composition with much
variety, which has in itself a kind of charm, capable of taking a strong
hold on the imagination of readers, when you are the writer. For nothing
is better fitted to interest a reader than variety of circumstance and
vicissitudes of fortune, which, though the reverse of welcome to us in
actual experience, will make very pleasant reading: for the untroubled
recollection of a past sorrow has a charm of its own. To the rest of the
world, indeed, who have had no trouble themselves, and who look upon the
misfortunes of others without any suffering of their own, the feeling of
pity is itself a source of pleasure. For what man of us is not
delighted, though feeling a certain compassion too, with the death-scene
of Epaminondas at Mantinea? He, you know, did not allow the dart to be
drawn from his body until he had been told, in answer to his question,
that his shield was safe, so that in spite of the agony of his wound he
died calmly and with glory. Whose interest is not roused and sustained
by the banishment and return of Themistocles?[490] Truly the mere
chronological record of the annals has very little charm for us--little
more than the entries in the _fasti_: but the doubtful and varied
fortunes of a man, frequently of eminent character, involve feelings of
wonder, suspense, joy, sorrow, hope, fear: if these fortunes are crowned
with a glorious death, the imagination is satisfied with the most
fascinating delight which reading can give. Therefore it will be more in
accordance with my wishes if you come to the resolution to separate from
the main body of your narrative, in which you embrace a continuous
history of events, what I may call the drama of my actions and fortunes:
for it includes varied acts, and shifting scenes both of policy and
circumstance. Nor am I afraid of appearing to lay snares for your favour
by flattering suggestions, when I declare that I desire to be
complimented and mentioned with praise by you above all other writers.
For you are not the man to be ignorant of your own powers, or not to be
sure that those who withhold their admiration of you are more to be
accounted jealous, than those who praise you flatterers. Nor, again, am
I so senseless as to wish to be consecrated to an eternity of fame by
one who, in so consecrating me, does not also gain for himself the glory
which rightfully belongs to genius. For the famous Alexander himself did
not wish to be painted by Apelles, and to have his statue made by
Lysippus above all others, merely from personal favour to them, but
because he thought that their art would be a glory at once to them and
to himself. And, indeed, those artists used to make images of the person
known to strangers: but if such had never existed, illustrious men would
yet be no less illustrious. The Spartan Agesilaus, who would not allow a
portrait of himself to be painted or a statue made, deserves to be
quoted as an example quite as much as those who have taken trouble
about such representations: for a single pamphlet of Xenophon's in
praise of that king has proved much more effective than all the
portraits and statues of them all. And, moreover, it will more redound
to my present exultation and the honour of my memory to have found my
way into your history, than if I had done so into that of others, in
this, that I shall profit not only by the genius of the writer--as
Timoleon did by that of Timæus, Themistocles by that of Herodotus--but
also by the authority of a man of a most illustrious and
well-established character, and one well known and of the first repute
for his conduct in the most important and weighty matters of state; so
that I shall seem to have gained not only the fame which Alexander on
his visit to Sigeum said had been bestowed on Achilles by Homer, but
also the weighty testimony of a great and illustrious man. For I like
that saying of Hector in Nævius, who not only rejoices that he is
"praised," but adds, "and by one who has himself been praised." But if I
fail to obtain my request from you, which is equivalent to saying, if
you are by some means prevented--for I hold it to be out of the question
that you would _refuse_ a request of mine--I shall perhaps be forced to
do what certain persons have often found fault with, write my own
panegyric, a thing, after all, which has a precedent of many illustrious
men. But it will not escape your notice that there are the following
drawbacks in a composition of that sort: men are bound, when writing of
themselves, both to speak with greater reserve of what is praiseworthy,
and to omit what calls for blame. Added to which such writing carries
less conviction, less weight; many people, in fine, carp at it, and say
that the heralds at the public games are more modest, for after having
placed garlands on the other recipients and proclaimed their names in a
loud voice, when their own turn comes to be presented with a garland
before the games break up, they call in the services of another herald,
that they may not declare themselves victors with their own voice. I
wish to avoid all this, and, if you undertake my cause, I shall avoid
it: and, accordingly, I ask you this favour. But why, you may well ask,
when you have already often assured me that you intended to record in
your book with the utmost minuteness the policy and events of my
consulship, do I now make this request to you with such earnestness and
in so many words? The reason is to be found in that burning desire, of
which I spoke at the beginning of my letter, for something _prompt_:
because I am in a flutter of impatience, both that men should learn what
I am from your books, while I am still alive, and that I may myself in
my lifetime have the full enjoyment of my little bit of glory. What you
intend doing on this subject I should like you to write me word, if not
troublesome to you. For if you do undertake the subject, I will put
together some notes of all occurrences: but if you put me off to some
future time, I will talk the matter over with you. Meanwhile, do not
relax your efforts, and thoroughly polish what you have already on the
stocks, and--continue to love me.
[Footnote 487: That is, the dowry and expenses of Tullia's betrothal to
Crassipes.]
[Footnote 488: _Tullia de via recta in hortos_, for _tu_, etc., and _ad
te postridie_. This may not be right, but no other suggestions as to the
meaning of these abrupt clauses have been made which are in the least
convincing. We must suppose that Atticus has asked Tullia to stay with
him and his wife Pilia, and Cicero is describing her journey from
Antium.]
[Footnote 489: L. Lucceius, of whom we have heard before, as having some
quarrel with Atticus. His work has not survived. No letter of the
correspondence has brought more adimadversion on Cicero, and yet
log-rolling and the appealing to friends on the press to review one's
book are not wholly unknown even in our time.]
[Footnote 490: Cicero appears by a slip to have written Themistocles
instead of Aristeides. The dramatic return of the latter just before the
battle of Salamis is narrated in Herodotus: whereas the former never
returned, though his dead body was said to have been brought to Athens.]
CIX (A IV, 6)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
FROM THE COUNTRY (APRIL-MAY)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
Of course I am as sorry about Lentulus as I am bound to be: we have lost
a good patriot and a great man, one who to great strength of character
united a culture equally profound. My consolation is a miserable one,
but still it is a consolation--that I do not grieve on his account: I
don't mean in the sense of Saufeius and your Epicurean friends, but, by
Hercules, because he loved his country so deeply, that he seems to me to
have been snatched away by a special favour of providence from its
conflagration. For what could be more humiliating than the life we are
living, especially mine? For as to yourself, though by nature a
politician, you have yet avoided having any servitude peculiar to
yourself: you merely come under an appellation common to us all.[491]
But _I_, who, if I say what I ought about the Republic, am looked on as
mad, if what expediency dictates, as a slave, and if I say nothing, as
utterly crushed and helpless--what must I be suffering? Suffer, indeed,
I do, and all the more keenly that I cannot even shew my pain without
appearing ungrateful. Again: what if I should choose a life of
inactivity and take refuge in the harbour of retired leisure?
Impossible! Rather war and the camp! Am I to serve in the ranks after
refusing to be a general? I suppose I must. For I perceive you, too,
think so, you whom I wish that I had always obeyed. All that is left to
me now is, "You have drawn Sparta: make the best of it!" But, by
heavens, I can't: and I feel for Philoxenus,[492] who preferred a return
to gaol. However, in my present retirement I am thinking over how to
express my rejection of the old policy, and when we meet you will
strengthen me in it.
I notice that you have written to me at frequent intervals, but I
received all the letters at once. This circumstance increased my grief.
For I had read three to begin with, in which the report of Lentulus was
that he was a little better. Then came the thunderbolt of the fourth.
But it is not he, as I said, who is to be pitied, but we who are so
callous as to live on.[493] You remind me to write that essay on
Hortensius: I have digressed into other subjects, but have not forgotten
your charge. But, by heaven, at the first line I shrank from the task,
lest I, who seem to have acted foolishly in resenting his intemperate
conduct as a friend, should once more be foolishly rendering his
injurious treatment of me conspicuous, if I wrote anything; and at the
same time lest my high _morale_, manifested in my actions, should be
somewhat obscured in my writing, and this mode of taking satisfaction
should seem to imply a certain instability. But we shall see. Only be
sure to write me something as often as possible. I sent a letter to
Lucceius asking him to write the history of my consulship: be sure you
get it from him, for it is a very pretty bit of writing, and urge him to
use despatch, and thank him for having written me an answer saying that
he would do so. Go and see my house as often as you can. Say something
to Vestorius:[494] for he is acting very liberally in regard to me.
[Footnote 491: Reading _communi fueris nomine_. After all, the meaning
is very doubtful.]
[Footnote 492: Philoxenus, who, having been sent to the quarries by
Dionysius of Syracuse, for criticising the tyrant's poetry, was given
another chance. After reading a few lines he turned away silently.
"Where are you going?" said Dionysius. "Back to the quarries," said
Philoxenus. For Σπαρταν ἔλαχες, ταύτην κοσμεῖ, see p. 59.]
[Footnote 493: _Ferrei_. The true meaning of the word here seems to me
to be shewn by _de Am._ § 87, _quis tam esset ferreus, qui eam vitam
ferre posset, cuique non auferret fructum voluptatum omnium solitudo_?
There is an intentional play on the words _ferreus_ and _ferre_. Others
have altered it to _servi_, and others have explained it as an allusion
to the iron age, in both cases spoiling the antithesis--he died, we
remain--and in the latter using the word in a sense not elsewhere found.
Lentulus is L. Cornelius Lentulus. See Letter L.]
[Footnote 494: A money-lender.]
CX (A IV, 7)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
ARPINUM (APRIL-MAY)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
Nothing could be better timed than your letter, which much relieved the
anxiety I was feeling about that excellent boy, our Quintus. Two hours
earlier Chærippus had arrived: his news was simply awful. As to what you
say about Apollonius, why, heaven confound him! a Greek and turn
bankrupt! Thinks he may do what Roman knights do! For, of course,
Terentius is within his rights! As to Metellus--_de mortuis_,
etc.[495]--yet there has been no citizen die these many years past who
----. Well, I am willing to warrant your getting the money: for what
have you to fear, whomsoever he made his heir, unless it were Publius?
But he has, in fact, made a respectable man his heir, though he was
himself ----! Wherefore in this business you will not have to open your
money-chest: another time you will be more cautious. Please see to my
instructions about my house: hire some guards: give Milo a hint.[496]
The Arpinates grumble amazingly about Laterium.[497] Well, what can I
say? I was much annoyed myself, but "to words of mine he gave no
heed."[498] For the rest, take care of young Cicero and love him as
always.
[Footnote 495: οὐχ ὁσίη φθιμένοισιν, leaving Atticus, as often, to fill
in the words ἐπ' ἀνδράσιν εὐχετάασθαι (Hom. _Od._ xxii. 412, where the
word is κταμένοισιν). Terentius is some eques who has stopped payment.]
[Footnote 496: Because Clodius was attempting to pull down Cicero's
new-built house on the ground that the site was still consecrated. He
was prevented by Milo (Dio, xxxix. 20).]
[Footnote 497: Something that Quintus had done, perhaps about water, on
his estate which annoyed his fellow townsmen.]
[Footnote 498: ὁ δ' οὐκ ἐμπάζετο μύθων (Hom. _Od._ i. 271).]
CXI (A IV, 8 a)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
ANTIUM (APRIL-MAY)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]
There were many things in your letter which pleased me, but nothing more
than your "dish of cheese and salt fish"![499] For as to what you say
about the sale,
"Boast not yourself before you see the end"[500]
I can find nothing in the way of a building for you in the
neighbourhood. In the town there is something of the sort, though it is
doubtful whether it is for sale, and, in fact, close to my own house.
Let me tell you that Antium is the Buthrotum of Rome, just what your
Buthrotum is to Corcyra. Nothing can be quieter, cooler, or
prettier--"be this mine own dear home."[501] Moreover, since Tyrannio
has arranged my books for me, my house seems to have had a soul added to
it; in which matter your Dionysius and Menophilus were of wonderful
service. Nothing can be more charming than those bookcases of yours,
since the title-slips have shewn off the books. Good-bye. I should like
you to write me word about the gladiators, but only if they fight well,
I don't want to know about them if they were failures.
[Footnote 499: We must suppose Atticus to have mentioned some money loss
(see last letter), and to have added that, though a ruinous one, his
tastes were simple, and he could live on simple fare. Cicero laughs at
the affectation of the rich Atticus. _Raudusculum_, "a piece of bronze,"
was the ancient term for the piece of bronze money used in sales, _per
æs et libram_ (Varro, _L. L._ v. 163).]
[Footnote 500: μήπω μέγ' εἴπης πρὶν τελευτήσαντ' ἴδῃς, "Do not boast
till you see a man dead"--a well-known line from a lost play of
Sophocles, containing a sentiment elsewhere often repeated, especially
in Herodotus's account of the interview of Solon and Crœsus.]
[Footnote 501: εἴη μοὶ οὖτος φίλος οἶκος, according to a probable
restoration of the Greek words (instead of εἴη μισητὸς φίλος οἶκος, "I
might even hate my town house in comparison"); cp. Hor. _Od._ ii. 6, 7.]
CXII (F V, 3)
FROM Q. METELLUS NEPOS (IN SPAIN)
[Sidenote: B.C. 56, ÆT. 50]