Letter 169

On your birthday you wrote me a letter full of advice, and full not only of the greatest goodwill but of wisdom too. Philotimus delivered it to me the day after he received it from you. The problems you discuss are indeed extremely difficult: the route to the Adriatic, sailing by the western sea, leaving for Arpinum so that I may not seem to have run away from Caesar, staying at Formiae so that I may not seem to have put myself forward to congratulate him. But nothing is more miserable than seeing the things that now, I say again, will have to be seen. Postumus was with me. I wrote to you how overbearing he was. Quintus Fufius also came to see me. What a face, what self-importance, as he hurried to Brundisium, denouncing Pompey's wickedness and the Senate's fickleness and stupidity. If I cannot bear such talk in my own villa, will I be able to bear Curtius in the Senate? Suppose I swallow all this, however good my stomach may be. What about the words, "Speak, Marcus Tullius"? How will they end? I pass over the cause of the republic, which I think has been lost both by its wounds and by the remedies now being prepared for them. But what am I to do about Pompey? I was plainly angry with him, and why should I deny it? I am always moved more by the causes of events than by the events themselves. Considering, or rather judging, that these disasters, and what greater disasters could there be, had happened through his work and his fault, I was more hostile to him than to Caesar himself. Our ancestors treated the day of the Allia as more ill-omened than the day Rome was captured, because the capture followed from that defeat; so the one day is still religiously marked, while the other is commonly unknown. In the same way, when I recalled Pompey's mistakes over ten years, including the year when he failed to defend me, to say no more, and when I recognized the recklessness, idleness, and negligence of the present moment, I was angry. But those things have now fallen away from me. I think of his kindnesses; I think of his dignity too. Later than I would have wished, because of Balbus' letters and conversations, I now understand and clearly see that nothing else is being done, and nothing else has been done from the beginning, except an attempt to kill him. So, like Achilles in Homer, when his mother, a goddess, told him, "Then your death is ready for you immediately after Hector," and he answered, "Then let me die at once, since I was not to help my comrade when he was being killed." What if the man is not only a comrade, but a benefactor, and such a man, defending such a cause? I truly think these duties must be bought even with life. As for your good citizens, I trust them not at all; I no longer even feel bound to serve them. I see how they are giving themselves to Caesar, and how they will keep doing it. Do you think those decrees of the towns about Pompey's health meant anything beside these congratulations on victory? "They are afraid," you will say. Yes, but they said they were afraid then too. Let us see what happened at Brundisium. Perhaps from that will come new plans and different letters.

On your birthday you wrote me a letter full of advice, full of great kindness and of great wisdom. Philotimus delivered it to me the day after he got it from you. The points you discuss are very difficult—the route to the upper sea, a voyage by the lower sea, departure to Arpinum, lest I should seem to have avoided Caesar, remaining at Formiae, lest I should appear to have put myself forward to congratulate him; but the most miserable thing of all will be to see what I tell you must very shortly be seen. Curtius Postumus was with me. I wrote you how tiresome he was. Quintus Fufius also came to see me—what an air! what assurance!—hastening to Brundisium denouncing Pompey's wrong-doings and the careless folly of the House. When I cannot stand this under my own roof, how shall I be able to endure Curtius in the Senate? But suppose I put up with all this in good humour, what of the question "Your vote, M. Tullius?" What will come of it? I pass over the cause of the Republic, which I consider lost, both from the wounds dealt it and the cures prepared for them; but what am I to do about Pompey? It is no use denying that I am downright angry with him. For I am always more affected by the causes of events than by the events themselves. Therefore considering our incomparable woes, or rather concluding that they have happened by his doing and his mistakes, I am more angry with Pompey than with Caesar himself. Just as our ancestors thought that the day of the battle of Alia was blacker than the day of the capture of Rome, because the capture was but the consequence of the battle (and so the former day is still a black letter day and the latter is commonly unknown), so I too was angry in recalling his errors of the last ten years, which included the year of my affliction, when he gave me no help, to put it mildly, and recognizing his foolhardiness, sloth and carelessness at the present time. But all this I have forgotten. It is his kindness I think of, and I think of my own honour too. I understand, later indeed than I could have wished, from the letters and conversation of Balbus, but I see plainly, that the sole object is, and has been from the beginning, the death of Pompey. So I say the same as Achilles to his mother, when she said "For after Hector's death thy doom is fixed," and he replied, "Then let me die, since I have failed to save my friend." And in my case it is not only a friend but a benefactor, a man so great and championing so great a cause. Indeed I hold that life should be paid for the kindnesses that he has done me. But in your loyal party I have no confidence: nor I do even acknowledge any allegiance to them now. I see how they surrender and will surrender themselves to Caesar. Do you think that those decrees of the towns about Pompey's health were anything compared with their congratulatory addresses to Caesar? You will say, "They are terrorized." Yes, but they themselves declare that they were terrorized on the former occasion. But let us see what has happened at Brundisium. Perhaps from that may spring different plans and a different letter.

[1] Natali die tuo scripsisti epistulam ad me plenam consili summaeque cum benevolentiae tum etiam prudentiae. eam mihi Philotimus postridie quam a te acceperat reddidit. sunt ista quidem quae disputas difficillima, iter ad superum, navigatio infero, discessus Arpinum ne hunc fugisse, mansio Formiis ne obtulisse nos gratulationi videamur, sed miserius nihil quam ea videre quae tamen iam, inquam, videnda erunt. fuit apud me Postumus, scripsi ad te quam gravis. venit ad me etiam Q. Fufius quo vultu, quo spiritu! properans Brundisium, scelus accusans Pompei, levitatem et stultitiam senatus. haec qui in mea villa non feram, Curtium in curia potero ferre? [2] age, finge me quamvis eustomachos haec ferentem; quid illa 'dic, M. TVLLI'? quem habebunt exitum? et omitto causam rei publicae quam ego amissam puto cum vulneribus suis tum medicamentis iis quae parantur, de Pompeio quid agam? quoi plane (quid enim hoc negem?) suscensui. semper enim me causae eventorum magis movent quam ipsa eventa. haec igitur mala (quibus maiora esse quae possunt?) considerans vel potius iudicans eius opera accidisse et culpa inimicior eram huic quam ipsi Caesari. Vt maiores nostri funestiorem diem esse voluerunt Alliensis pugnae quam urbis captae, quod hoc malum ex illo (itaque alter religiosus etiam nunc dies, alter in vulgus ignotus), sic ego decem annorum peccata recordans in quibus inerat ille etiam annus qui nos hoc (non) defendente, ne dicam gravius, adflixerat praesentisque temporis cognoscens temeritatem, ignaviam, neglegentiam suscensebam. [3] sed ea iam mihi exciderunt; beneficia eiusdem cogito, cogito etiam dignitatem; intellego serius equidem quam vellem propter epistulas sermonesque Balbi, sed video plane nihil aliud agi, nihil actum ab initio, (nisi) ut hunc occideret. ego igitur, sicut ille apud Homerum cui et mater et dea dixisset , autika gar toi epeita meth' Hektora potmos hetoimos, matri ipse respondit, autika tethnaien, epei ouk ar' emellon hetairoi kteinomenoi epamunai,-- quid si non hetairoi solum sed etiam euergetei, adde tali viro talem causam agenti? ego vero haec officia mercanda vita puto. optimatibus vero tuis nihil confido, nihil iam ne inservio quidem. [4] video ut se huic dent, ut daturi sint. quicquam tu illa putas fuisse de valetudine decreta municipiorum prae his de victoria gratulationibus? 'timent' inquies. at ipsi tum se timuisse dicunt. sed videamus quid actum sit Brundisi. ex eo fortasse nea consilia nascentur aliaeque litterae.