Letter 178

[1] I received three of your letters the day after the Ides. They had been dispatched on the fourth, the third, and the day before the Ides. So I shall answer each one in turn, beginning with the oldest. I agree with you that I should stay put at my place at Formiae by all means, and about the Adriatic too I shall try, as I wrote to you earlier, to find some way in which, with his goodwill, I may avoid taking any part whatever in public affairs. As for your praising me because I wrote that I am forgetting our friend's [Pompey's] past actions and failings -- yes, that is just what I am doing. Indeed, I have no memory of those very things you mention as having been done by him against me personally. I am determined that gratitude for kindness shall weigh so much more with me than resentment for injury. So let us do as you advise, and pull ourselves together. For I am playing the philosopher [Greek: sophisteuo] even as I dash off to the country, and during the dash I do not stop composing my theses [Greek: theseis, set discussion topics]. But some of them are very hard to decide. As for the optimates [the conservative senatorial faction], let it be just as you wish; but you know that old saying, 'Dionysius at Corinth' [a proverb on a tyrant fallen to private life]. [2] Titinius's son is with Caesar. As to your seeming almost to fear that your advice might displease me -- nothing in the world delights me except your counsel and your letters. So, as you promise, please do not leave off writing to me whatever comes into your head. Nothing could be more welcome to me. Now I come to the second letter. You are right not to believe the figure for the number of troops; Clodia wrote that there were more than half again as many. The story about the wrecked ships is false too. As for your praising the consul, I too praise his spirit, but I find fault with his judgment; for by their dispersal the chance of negotiating for peace has been removed -- the very thing I was working toward. And so afterwards I sent back to you Demetrius's book On Concord and gave it to Philotimus. Nor indeed do I doubt that a ruinous war hangs over us, one whose opening will be marked by famine. And yet I grieve that I am not taking part in this war! For in it there will be such a measure of wickedness that, whereas it is a crime not to feed one's parents, our leading men think that our most ancient and most sacred parent, our country, ought to be starved to death. And I do not fear this on mere conjecture; I have been present at the discussions. This whole fleet from Alexandria, Colchis, Tyre, Sidon, Aradus, Cyprus, Pamphylia, Lycia, Rhodes, Chios, Byzantium, Lesbos, Smyrna, Miletus, and Cos is being assembled to cut off Italy's supplies and to seize the grain-producing provinces. And how angry he will arrive! And angriest of all at those who most wanted him kept safe, as though he had been abandoned by the very men he abandoned. And so, while I waver over what it is right for me to do, my goodwill toward him carries very great weight; and if that be removed, it would be better to perish in one's country than to ruin one's country by trying to save it. About the north it is plainly just as you say. I fear that Epirus may be ravaged; but what spot in Greece do you suppose will not be plundered? For he openly proclaims, and shows it to his soldiers, that by his lavish bounty itself he will outdo this man [Pompey]. That is excellent advice of yours, that when I see him I should speak not too like a beggar, and rather with dignity. That is plainly how it must be done. I am thinking of Arpinum, once I have met with him, lest perhaps I should be away when he comes, or be dashing this way and that along a wretched road. I hear, as you write, that Bibulus has come and gone back again the day before the Ides. [3] Philotimus, as you say in your third letter, you were expecting. But he set out from me on the Ides. That is why my letter, which I had written in immediate reply to that letter of yours, reached you somewhat later. About Domitius, I think it is just as you write -- that he is at his place near Cosa and that his intentions are unknown. That most shameful and most sordid of all men, who says that consular elections can be held by a praetor, is the same fellow he has always been in public life. And so no doubt this is the very thing Caesar means when he writes in that letter whose copy I sent you -- that he wishes to make use of my 'counsel' (well, so be it; that is common enough), my 'influence' (a silly notion, that, but he is pretending it, I suppose, with a view to certain senators' votes), my 'standing' (perhaps a consular's vote in the Senate). The last item is 'help in all things.' That I began to suspect, from your letter, was either this very thing or not far off it. For it is of the greatest importance to him that matters not come down to an interregnum. He achieves that if consuls are elected through a praetor. But we have it in our books that not only is it not lawful for consuls to be elected by a praetor, but not even praetors, and that this has never been done; consuls, because it is not lawful for a greater command to be proposed by a lesser; praetors, because they are proposed in such a way as to be colleagues of the consuls, who hold the greater command. It will not be far off before he wants this decreed by me, and is not content with Galba, Scaevola, Cassius, and Antonius -- 'let the wide earth gape open for me' [Greek: tote moi chanoi eureia chthon, Homer, Iliad]. [4] But you see how great a storm hangs over us. I shall write to you which senators have crossed over when I know for certain. About the grain supply you rightly understand that it can in no way be managed without the revenues; and you have good reason to fear both those around him, who are demanding everything, and a wicked war. As for our friend Trebatius, although, as you write, he has no good hopes, still I should very much like to see him. Please urge him to hurry; for he will have come to me opportunely, before Caesar's arrival. About the estate at Lanuvium -- the moment I heard that Phamea had died, I longed, provided only there was going to be a Republic, that some friend of mine might buy it, yet I never thought of you, who are most truly mine. For I knew that you are accustomed to ask 'in how many years' [it pays for itself] and 'how much it covers in ground,' and I had seen your land survey not only at Rome but even at Delos. But all the same, although it is a charming place, I rate it lower than it was rated when Marcellinus was consul, when I thought those little gardens would be more pleasant to me on account of the old house I then owned, and at less expense than if I had restored my Tusculan villa. I wanted to give 500,000 sesterces. I dealt through an agent so that he should let it go at that price, since he had it for sale. He refused. But now I think all such properties are lying flat because of the scarcity of cash. It would suit me best -- or rather suit us -- if you should buy it; but mind you do not despise his follies [the seller's whims]. It is very charming. And yet all those properties now seem to me already consigned to desolation. I have answered three letters, but I await others; for so far your letters have kept me going. Dispatched on the Liberalia [March 17].

I have nothing to write. There is no news that I have heard, and all your letters I answered yesterday. But as a sick heart not only robs me of sleep, but will not allow me even to keep awake without the greatest pain, I have begun to write to you something or other without any definite subject, that I may have a sort of talk with you, the only thing that gives me relief. I seem to myself to have been mad from the very beginning, and the one thing that tortures me is that I did not follow Pompey like a private soldier, when he was slipping or rather rushing to ruin. I saw he was terrified on the 17th of January: on that day I felt what he would do. Since then I have never approved his course, and he has never ceased to commit one blunder after another. Meantime not a letter to me, nothing but thoughts of flight. Well! Just as in love affairs men are repelled by untidiness, stupidity and indelicacy, so the ugliness of his flight and his carelessness have estranged my love. For he has done nothing of a kind to induce me to share his flight. But now my old love breaks forth: now I miss him intolerably: now books, letters, philosophy, do not help me one whit. Day and night, like that bird, I gaze at the sea, and long to take flight. Sorely am I punished for my rashness. Yet what rashness was there? I acted with all deliberation. For, if flight were his only object, I would have fled gladly enough. But I was aghast at warfare so cruel and desperate, the upshot of which is still unknown. What threats against the country towns, against the loyalists by name, in fact against all who should stay behind! How frequently has he remarked "Sulla could do it, and shall not I?" I could not get rid of thoughts like these. It was base in Tarquin to egg on Porsena and Octavius Mamilius against his country; it was wicked in Coriolanus, to seek help from the Volscians. Themistocles was right who preferred to die. What a dastard was Hippias, the son of Pisistratus, who fell at the battle of Marathon, bearing arms against his country! Yes, but Sulla and Marius and Cinna acted rightly, perhaps one should say within their rights; but then victory brought cruelty and death. I shrank from a war of that kind, and also because I saw cruelty even greater was being planned and prepared. Was it for me, whom some called the saviour and father of Rome, to bring against her hordes of Getae, Armenians and Colchians? Was it for me to bring famine on my fellow-townsmen and devastation on Italy? In the first place I reflected that Caesar was mortal, and besides might be got rid of in many ways. But I thought that our city and our people should be preserved so far as in us lay for immortality; and anyhow I cherished a hope that some arrangement might be made before Caesar perpetrated such a crime or Pompey such iniquity. Now the case is altered and my mind is altered too. The sun, as you say in one of your letters, seems to me to have fallen out of the universe. As a sick man is said to have hope, so long as he has breath, so I did not cease to hope so long as Pompey was in Italy. This, this was what deceived me, and to speak the truth after my long labours my life's evening falling peacefully has made me lazy with the thought of domestic pleasures. But now, even if risk must be run in fleeing hence, assuredly I will run it. Perhaps I ought to have done it before: but the points you wrote about delayed me, and especially your influence. For, when I got so far, I opened the packet of your letters, which I keep under seal and preserve with the greatest care. In a letter dated the 21st of January, you make the following remark: "Let us see Pompey's policy and the drift of his plans. Now if he leave Italy, it will be wrong and to my mind irrational: but then and not till then will be the time to change our plans." This you wrote on the fourth day after I left Rome. Then on the 23rd of January: "I only pray that our friend Pompey will not leave Italy, as he has irrationally left Rome." On the same day you wrote another letter, a frank reply to my request for advice. It runs: "But to answer the question on which you ask advice, if Pompey leaves Italy, I think you ought to return to Rome: for what can be the end to his wanderings?" This gave me pause, and I see now endless war is attached to that wretched flight, which you playfully called "wandering." There follows your prophecy of the 25th of January: "If Pompey stays in Italy and no arrangement is reached, I fancy there will be a very long war. If he leaves Italy, I think that for the future there will be war à l'outrance." In this war then à l'outrance, this civil war, am I forced to take part and lot and share? Next on the 7th of February, when you had heard more of Pompey's plans, you end a letter as follows: "I would not advise you to flee, if Pompey leaves Italy. You will run a very great risk, and will not help the country, which you may be able to help hereafter, if you remain." What patriot and politician would not be influenced by such advice from a wise man and a friend? Next on the 11th of February you answer my request for counsel again as follows: "You ask me whether I hold that flight or delay is more useful. Well, I think that at the present juncture a sudden departure and hasty journey would be useless and dangerous both to yourself and to Pompey, and that it were better for you to be apart, and each on his own watch tower. But upon my honour I hold it disgraceful of us to think of flight." This disgrace our Pompey meditated two years ago: so long has he been eager to play at Sulla and proscriptions. Then, as I fancy, when you had written to me in more general terms and I had thought that some of your remarks hinted at my departure from Italy, you protest emphatically against it on the 19th of February: "In no letter have I hinted that you should accompany Pompey, if he leaves Italy, or, if I did hint it, I was worse than inconsistent, I was mad." In the same letter there is another passage: "Nothing is left for Pompey but flight, in which I do not think and never have thought that you should share." This counsel you unroll in detail in your letter dated the 22nd of February: "If M'. Lepidus and L. Volcacius stay, I think you should stay, provided, if Pompey wins safety and makes a stand anywhere, you should leave these âmes damnées, and rather share defeat with him than share Caesar's sovereignty in the mire that will be." You argue at length in support of this view, then at the end you say: "What if Lepidus and Volcacius depart? I am quite at a loss. So I shall think you must face the event and abide by what you have done." If you had any doubt then, you certainly have no doubt left now, as those two persons remain in Italy. Next, when the flight was actually made on Feb. 25: "Meantime I have no doubt you should stay at Formiae. It will be most convenient there to await the event." On the 1st of March, when Pompey had been four days at Brundisium: "Then we shall be able to debate, not indeed with a free hand but assuredly less hampered, than if you had shared his plunge." Next on the 4th of March, though you scribbled a line on the eve of your fever bout, nevertheless you say this: "I will write more to-morrow, and answer all your questions. But I maintain this, that I am not sorry for advising you to stay, and, though very anxious, still, because I fancy it is better than flight, I stick to my opinion and am glad that you have stayed in Italy." When I was already tortured with fear that my conduct was disgraceful on the 5th of March you write: "However I am not sorry that you are not with Pompey. Hereafter, if need arise, it will be easy, and to him, whenever it happens, acceptable. When I say this, it is with the reservation, that, if Caesar continues, as he has begun, acting with good faith, moderation and prudence, I must thoroughly review the matter and consider more closely what our interests advise." On the 9th of March you write that my friend Peducaeus too approves my inaction: and his authority has much weight with me. From these lines of yours I console myself with the reflection that so far I have done nothing wrong: but pray support your position. So far as I am concerned there is no need: but I want others to be my accomplices. If I have not done wrong so far, I will take care of the future. Do you maintain your exhortations and assist me with your reflections. Here nothing as yet has been heard about Caesar's return. For myself I have won thus much good by my letter, I have read all yours and found rest in the act.

[1] tris epistulas tuas accepi postridie Idus. erant autem iiii, iii, pridie Idus datae. igitur antiquissimae cuique primum respondebo. adsentio tibi, ut in Formiano potissimum commorer, etiam de supero mari, + plaboque+ , ut antea ad te scripsi, ecquonam modo possim voluntate eius nullam rei publicae partem attingere. quod laudas quia oblivisci me scripsi ante facta et delicta nostri amici, ego vero ita facio. quin ea ipsa, quae a te commemorantur, secus ab eo in me ipsum facta esse non memini. tanto plus apud me valere benefici gratiam quam iniuriae dolorem volo. faciamus igitur, ut censes, conligamusque nos. Sophisteuo enim simul ut rus decurro atque in decursu theseis meas commentari non desino. sed sunt quaedam earum perdifficiles ad iudicandum. de optimatibus sit sane ita ut vis; sed nosti illud 'Dionusios en Korinthoi.' [2] Titini filius apud Caesarem est. quod autem quasi vereri videris ne mihi tua consilia displiceant, me vero nihil delectat aliud nisi consilium et litterae tuae. qua re fac, ut ostendis, ne destiteris ad me quicquid tibi in mentem venerit scribere. mihi nihil potest esse gratius. venio ad alteram nunc epistulam. recte non credis de numero militum; ipso dimidio plus scripsit Clodia. falsum etiam de corruptis navibus. quod consulem laudas, ego quoque animum laudo sed consilium reprehendo; dispersu enim illorum actio de pace sublata est quam quidem ego meditabar. itaque postea Demetri librum de concordia tibi remisi et Philotimo dedi. nec vero dubito quin exitiosum bellum impendeat cuius initium ducetur a fame. et me tamen doleo non interesse huic bello! in quo tanta vis sceleris futura est ut, cum parentis non alere nefarium sit, nostri principes antiquissimam et sanctissimam parentem, patriam, fame necandam putent. atque hoc non opinione timeo sed interfui sermonibus. omnis haec classis Alexandrea, Colchis, Tyro, Sidone, arado, Cypro, Pamphylia, Lycia, Rhodo, Chio, Byzantio, Lesbo, Zmyrna, Mileto, Coo ad intercludendos commeatus Italiae et ad occupandas frumentarias provincias comparatur. at quam veniet iratus! et iis quidem maxime qui eum maxime salvum volebant, quasi relictus ab iis quos reliquit. itaque mihi dubitanti quid me facere par sit, permagnum pondus adfert benevolentia erga illum; qua dempta perire melius esset in patria quam patriam servando evertere. de septemtrione plane ita est. metuo ne vexetur Epirus; sed quem tu locum Graeciae non direptum iri putas? praedicat enim palam et militibus ostendit se largitione ipsa superiorem quam hunc fore. illud me praeclare admones, cum illum videro, ne nimis indigenter et ut cum gravitate potius loquar. plane sic faciendum. Arpinum, cum eum convenero, cogito, ne forte aut absim cum veniet aut cursem huc illuc via deterrima. Bibulum, ut scribis, audio venisse et redisse pridie Idus. [3] Philotimum, ut ais in epistula tertia, exspectabas. at ille Idibus a me profectus est. eo serius ad tuam illam epistulam quoi ego statim rescripseram redditae sunt meae litterae. de Domitio, ut scribis, ita opinor esse ut et in Cosano sit et consilium eius ignoretur. iste omnium turpissimus et sordidissimus qui consularia comitia a praetore ait haberi posse est ille idem qui semper in re publica fuit. itaque nimirum hoc illud est quod Caesar scribit in ea epistula cuius exemplum ad te misi, se velle uti 'consilio' meo (age, esto; hoc commune est), 'gratia' (ineptum id quidem sed, puto, hoc simulat ad quasdam senatorum sententias), 'dignitate' (fortasse sententia consulari). illud extremum est, 'ope omnium rerum.' id ego suspicari coepi tum ex tuis litteris aut hoc ipsum esse aut non multo secus. nam permagni eius interest rem ad interregnum non venire. id adsequitur, si per praetorem consules creantur. nos autem in libris habemus non modo consules a praetore sed ne praetores quidem creari ius esse idque factum esse numquam; consules eo non esse ius quod maius imperium a minore rogari non sit ius, praetores autem quod ita rogentur ut conlegae consulibus sint quorum est maius imperium. aberit non longe quin hoc a me decerni velit neque sit contentus Galba, Scaevola, Cassio, Antonio, tote moi chanoi eureia chthon. [4] sed quanta tempestas impendeat vides. qui transierint senatores scribam ad te cum certum habebo. de re frumentaria recte intellegis quae nullo modo administrari sine vectigalibus potest; nec sine causa et eos qui circum illum sunt omnia postulantis et bellum nefarium times. Trebatium nostrum, etsi, ut scribis, nihil bene sperat, tamen videre sane velim. quem fac horteris ut properet; opportune enim ad me ante adventum Caesaris venerit. de Lanuvino, statim ut audivi Phameam mortuum, optavi, si modo esset futura res publica, ut id aliquis emeret meorum neque tamen de te qui maxime meus es cogitavi. sciebam enim te 'quoto anno' et 'quantum in solo' solere quaerere neque solum Romae sed etiam Deli tuum diagramma videram. verum tamen ego illud, quamquam est bellum, minoris aestimo quam aestimabatur Marcellino consule, cum ego istos hortulos propter domum antiquam quam tum habebam iucundiores mihi fore putabam et minore impensa quam si Tusculanum refecissem. volui HS Q. Egi per + predum ille daret tanti quom+ haberet venale. noluit. sed nunc omnia ista iacere puto propter nummorum caritatem. mihi quidem erit aptissimum vel nobis potius si tu emeris; sed eius dementias cave contemnas. valde est venustum. quamquam mihi ista omnia iam addicta vastitati videntur. respondi epistulis tribus sed exspecto alias; nam me adhuc tuae litterae sustentarunt. D. Liberalibus.