Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 49 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
[1] On the third day before the Nones, when I had come to my brother's estate at Laterium, I received your letter and breathed a little easier, something that had not happened to me since this collapse began. For I set very great store by your approval of my firmness of mind and of what I have done. As for your writing that our friend Sextus approves, I am as delighted as if I thought myself confirmed by the judgment of his father, the one man to whom I always gave the highest regard. He it was who, as I often like to recall, said to me long ago on that famous fifth of December, when I asked, "Sextus, what then are we to do?"—he replied: "Me man aspoudi ge kai akleios, alla mega rhexas ti kai essomenoisi puthesthai" [Let me not die without a struggle and inglorious, but having done some great deed for men yet to come to learn of—adapted from Homer, Iliad 22.304–05]. So his authority lives on for me, and his son, who is exactly like him, carries the same weight with me that his father did. Please give him my warmest greetings.
[2] As for you, although you put off your advice for no long time—for by now I imagine that bought peacemaker has finished his pleading, and that something has been done in the gathering of senators (for I do not call it a Senate)—still you keep my mind in suspense; yet less so, because I do not doubt what you think we ought to do. For when you write that a legion and Sicily are being given to Flavius, and that this is already happening, what crimes do you suppose are partly being prepared and plotted already, and partly will come as the occasion arises? I, for my part, shall disregard the law of Solon, your fellow countryman and, as I think, mine as well, who made it a capital offense if anyone in a civil uprising took neither side: unless you think otherwise, I shall stay away both from this side and from that. But one of the two courses is the more settled for me—though I shall not anticipate matters. I shall await your advice and that letter of yours, unless you have already sent another which I asked you to give to Cephalio.
[3] As to your writing—not because you have heard it from any source, but because you yourself think—that I shall be drawn in if there is any negotiation about peace: it simply does not enter my mind what dealings about peace there could be, when his fixed determination is, if he can, to strip Pompey of army and province—unless perhaps that money-man can persuade him to keep quiet while the negotiators come and go. I see nothing that I can hope for or that I now think can come about. And yet this very thing is the mark of an honest man—let it be among the weightiest of political questions [ton politikotaton skemmaton]—whether one ought to enter the council of a tyrant, if he means to deliberate about some good matter. So if anything of the kind should happen, that I am summoned (which for my part I do not believe—for what should I have to say about peace? I have said it, and he himself flatly rejected it), still, if anything does happen, write and tell me at all events what you think I should do. For so far nothing has befallen me that called for greater deliberation. I am glad you were pleased by the words of Trebatius, a good man and citizen, and your repeated exclamation "hupereu" ["bravo," "excellent"] has been my only pleasure so far. I am eagerly awaiting your letter; indeed I believe it has already been sent. With Sextus you have kept the same dignity that you prescribe for me. Your friend Celer is more eloquent than wise. What you heard from Tullia about the young men is true. That business of Mucianus which you mention does not seem to me as grievous in fact as it is in word. This is the suspense [ale—restless wandering, distraction] in which we now find ourselves, like death itself. For either I had to take part in public life freely among bad men, or even at peril among the good. Either we should follow the rashness of the loyalists, or we should hound the audacity of the unprincipled. Both are dangerous, but what we are now doing is shameful and yet not safe either. The man who sent his son to Brundisium about peace (about peace I think the same as you, that it is an open pretense, but that war is being prepared most fiercely)—I do not think I shall be sent as envoy, of which, as I had hoped, no mention has so far been made. The less, therefore, do I need to write, or even to consider, what I am going to do, should it happen that I am chosen.
On the third of April coming to my brother's house at Laterium, I got your letter with some little relief, a thing which had not happened to me since this disaster began. For I attach very great weight to your approval of my firmness of mind and my action. As for your writing that it meets with the approval of my friend Sextus, I am as glad as if I fancied myself to have won the approval of his father, on whose judgement I always set the very highest value. I often call to mind how it was he who said to me on that famous December the 5th, when I asked him what we were to do next: "Let me not die a coward and shameful death, but greatly daring live in fame for aye." So his influence lives for me, and his son, who is very like him, has the same weight as he. Please give him my best compliments.
Your plan, it is true, you postpone for a very short time,—for I fancy by now that that venal peace-maker must have wound up his speech, and something must have been done in the session of Senators, for I don't consider it a Senate,—still you keep mine in suspense, but the less so because I have no doubt as to what you think we should do. For when you write that Flavius is offered a legion and Sicily, and that the matter is now in hand, just think what
iniquities are being prepared and meditated, some now and some in the future? I shall certainly neglect the law of Solon, your countryman, and I imagine mine too soon, who provided the death penalty for anyone who should not take one side in a revolution, and, unless you advise otherwise, I shall keep apart both from Caesar and Pompey. The former course is quite certain: but I shall not forestall events. I shall await your advice and the letter which I asked you to give to Cephalio—unless you have now sent another.
You write, not on the authority of anyone, but as your own idea, that I shall be drawn into any negotiations there may be for peace. I cannot imagine that there can be such negotiations, since it is Caesar's positive determination to rob Pompey, if possible, of army and province, unless perhaps that hireling can induce him to keep quiet, pending the passage to and fro of intermediaries. I see nothing that I can hope for or even imagine is likely to happen. However this is the very question for an honest man to decide and one of the great questions of la haute politique, whether one may enter the council of a tyrant, if the subject of debate is good. Therefore, if anything should happen to cause me to be summoned—I don't in the least expect anything will, for I have said all I can say about peace, and Caesar was determined to repudiate it—still, if anything should happen, write and tell me what you think I should do in any case. For so far nothing has happened that demands greater deliberation.
I am glad you are pleased with the words of that loyal citizen Trebatius, and your frequent bravos have so far been my sole pleasure. Your letter I
await eagerly. I expect it has been dispatched now. With Sextus you have preserved the same dignity that you prescribe for me. Your friend Celer has more wit than wisdom. What you heard from Tullia about the boys is true. Mucius' ending, which you mention, does not seem to me so sad as it sounds. It is this distraction in which we now find ourselves that is like death. For I have the alternative, either to take part in politics with a free hand among the disloyal, or to side with the loyal at all costs. I ought either to follow the loyalists in their rashness or attack the other party in its daring. Either course spells danger: but my present action brings shame without safety.
The man who sent his son to Brundisium to negotiate peace (my views on peace are yours, that it is patent pretence, but that war is being prosecuted with the utmost activity) that man I think and not I will be chosen as commissioner. So far to my relief I have heard nothing. So I fancy it less necessary to write or consider my possible course of action, if I should happen to be chosen.
[1] iii Nonas cum in Laterium fratris venissem, accepi litteras (tuas) et paulum respiravi, quod post has ruinas mihi non acciderat. per enim magni aestimo tibi firmitudinem animi nostri et factum nostrum probari. Sexto enim nostro quod scribis probari, ita laetor ut me quasi patris eius, cui semper uni plurimum tribui, iudicio comprobari putem. qui mihi, quod saepe soleo recordari, dixit olim Nonis illis Decembribus, cum ego 'Sexte, quidnam ergo?' Me man inquit ille aspoudi ge kai akleios, alla mega rhexas ti kai essomenoisi puthesthai . eius igitur mihi vivit auctoritas et simillimus eius filius eodem est apud me pondere quo fuit ille. quem salvere velim iubeas plurimum. [2] tu tuum consilium etsi non in longinquum tempus differs (iam enim illum emptum pacificatorem perorasse puto, iam actum aliquid esse in consessu senatorum; (senatum) enim non puto), tamen suspensum (animum) meum detines, sed eo minus quod non dubito quid nobis agendum putes; qui enim Flavio legionem et Siciliam dari scribas et id iam fieri, quae tu scelera partim parari iam et cogitari, partim ex tempore futura censes? ego vero Solonis, popularis tui (et) ut puto etiam mei, legem neglegam, qui capite sanxit si qui in seditione non alterius utrius partis fuisset, (et), nisi si tu aliter censes, et hinc abero et illim. sed alterum mihi est certius, nec praeripiam tamen. exspectabo tuum consilium et eas litteras, nisi alias iam dedisti quas scripsi ut Cephalioni dares. [3] quod scribis, non quo alicunde audieris, sed te ipsum putare me attractum iri, si de pace agatur, mihi omnino non venit in mentem quae possit actio esse de pace, cum illi certissimum sit, si possit, exspoliare exercitu et provincia Pompeium; nisi forte iste nummarius ei potest persuadere ut, dum oratores eant redeant, quiescat. nihil video quod sperem aut quod iam putem fieri posse. sed tamen hominis hoc ipsum probi est + magnum sit+ ton politikotaton skemmaton, veniendumne sit in consilium tyranni si is aliqua de re bona deliberaturus sit. qua re si quid eius modi evenerit ut arcessamur (quod equidem non credo. quid enim essem de pace dicturus? dixi, ipse valde repudiavit), sed tamen si quid acciderit, quid censeas mihi faciendum utique scribito. nihil enim mihi adhuc accidit quod maioris consili esset. Trebati, boni viri et civis, verbis te gaudeo delectatum, tuaque ista crebra ekphonesis 'hupereu' me sola adhuc delectavit. Litteras tuas vehementer exspecto; quas quidem credo iam datas esse. tu cum Sexto servasti gravitatem eandem quam mihi praecipis. Celer tuus disertus magis est quam sapiens. de iuvenibus quae ex Tullia audisti vera sunt. Mucianum istud quod scribis non mihi videtur tam re esse triste quam verbo. haec est ale in qua nunc sumus mortis instar. aut enim mihi libere inter malos politeuteon fuit aut vel periculose cum bonis. aut nos temeritatem bonorum sequamur aut audaciam improborum insectemur. Vtrumque periculosum est, at hoc quod agimus turpe nec tamen tutum. istum qui filium Brundisium de pace misit (de pace idem sentio quod tu, simulationem esse apertam, parari autem acerrime bellum), me legatum iri non arbitror, cuius adhuc, ut optavi, mentio facta nulla sit. eo minus habeo necesse scribere aut etiam cogitare quid sim facturus, si acciderit ut leger.
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[1] On the third day before the Nones, when I had come to my brother's estate at Laterium, I received your letter and breathed a little easier, something that had not happened to me since this collapse began. For I set very great store by your approval of my firmness of mind and of what I have done. As for your writing that our friend Sextus approves, I am as delighted as if I thought myself confirmed by the judgment of his father, the one man to whom I always gave the highest regard. He it was who, as I often like to recall, said to me long ago on that famous fifth of December, when I asked, "Sextus, what then are we to do?"—he replied: "Me man aspoudi ge kai akleios, alla mega rhexas ti kai essomenoisi puthesthai" [Let me not die without a struggle and inglorious, but having done some great deed for men yet to come to learn of—adapted from Homer, Iliad 22.304–05]. So his authority lives on for me, and his son, who is exactly like him, carries the same weight with me that his father did. Please give him my warmest greetings.
[2] As for you, although you put off your advice for no long time—for by now I imagine that bought peacemaker has finished his pleading, and that something has been done in the gathering of senators (for I do not call it a Senate)—still you keep my mind in suspense; yet less so, because I do not doubt what you think we ought to do. For when you write that a legion and Sicily are being given to Flavius, and that this is already happening, what crimes do you suppose are partly being prepared and plotted already, and partly will come as the occasion arises? I, for my part, shall disregard the law of Solon, your fellow countryman and, as I think, mine as well, who made it a capital offense if anyone in a civil uprising took neither side: unless you think otherwise, I shall stay away both from this side and from that. But one of the two courses is the more settled for me—though I shall not anticipate matters. I shall await your advice and that letter of yours, unless you have already sent another which I asked you to give to Cephalio.
[3] As to your writing—not because you have heard it from any source, but because you yourself think—that I shall be drawn in if there is any negotiation about peace: it simply does not enter my mind what dealings about peace there could be, when his fixed determination is, if he can, to strip Pompey of army and province—unless perhaps that money-man can persuade him to keep quiet while the negotiators come and go. I see nothing that I can hope for or that I now think can come about. And yet this very thing is the mark of an honest man—let it be among the weightiest of political questions [ton politikotaton skemmaton]—whether one ought to enter the council of a tyrant, if he means to deliberate about some good matter. So if anything of the kind should happen, that I am summoned (which for my part I do not believe—for what should I have to say about peace? I have said it, and he himself flatly rejected it), still, if anything does happen, write and tell me at all events what you think I should do. For so far nothing has befallen me that called for greater deliberation. I am glad you were pleased by the words of Trebatius, a good man and citizen, and your repeated exclamation "hupereu" ["bravo," "excellent"] has been my only pleasure so far. I am eagerly awaiting your letter; indeed I believe it has already been sent. With Sextus you have kept the same dignity that you prescribe for me. Your friend Celer is more eloquent than wise. What you heard from Tullia about the young men is true. That business of Mucianus which you mention does not seem to me as grievous in fact as it is in word. This is the suspense [ale—restless wandering, distraction] in which we now find ourselves, like death itself. For either I had to take part in public life freely among bad men, or even at peril among the good. Either we should follow the rashness of the loyalists, or we should hound the audacity of the unprincipled. Both are dangerous, but what we are now doing is shameful and yet not safe either. The man who sent his son to Brundisium about peace (about peace I think the same as you, that it is an open pretense, but that war is being prepared most fiercely)—I do not think I shall be sent as envoy, of which, as I had hoped, no mention has so far been made. The less, therefore, do I need to write, or even to consider, what I am going to do, should it happen that I am chosen.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.
Latin / Greek Original
[1] iii Nonas cum in Laterium fratris venissem, accepi litteras (tuas) et paulum respiravi, quod post has ruinas mihi non acciderat. per enim magni aestimo tibi firmitudinem animi nostri et factum nostrum probari. Sexto enim nostro quod scribis probari, ita laetor ut me quasi patris eius, cui semper uni plurimum tribui, iudicio comprobari putem. qui mihi, quod saepe soleo recordari, dixit olim Nonis illis Decembribus, cum ego 'Sexte, quidnam ergo?' Me man inquit ille aspoudi ge kai akleios, alla mega rhexas ti kai essomenoisi puthesthai . eius igitur mihi vivit auctoritas et simillimus eius filius eodem est apud me pondere quo fuit ille. quem salvere velim iubeas plurimum. [2] tu tuum consilium etsi non in longinquum tempus differs (iam enim illum emptum pacificatorem perorasse puto, iam actum aliquid esse in consessu senatorum; (senatum) enim non puto), tamen suspensum (animum) meum detines, sed eo minus quod non dubito quid nobis agendum putes; qui enim Flavio legionem et Siciliam dari scribas et id iam fieri, quae tu scelera partim parari iam et cogitari, partim ex tempore futura censes? ego vero Solonis, popularis tui (et) ut puto etiam mei, legem neglegam, qui capite sanxit si qui in seditione non alterius utrius partis fuisset, (et), nisi si tu aliter censes, et hinc abero et illim. sed alterum mihi est certius, nec praeripiam tamen. exspectabo tuum consilium et eas litteras, nisi alias iam dedisti quas scripsi ut Cephalioni dares. [3] quod scribis, non quo alicunde audieris, sed te ipsum putare me attractum iri, si de pace agatur, mihi omnino non venit in mentem quae possit actio esse de pace, cum illi certissimum sit, si possit, exspoliare exercitu et provincia Pompeium; nisi forte iste nummarius ei potest persuadere ut, dum oratores eant redeant, quiescat. nihil video quod sperem aut quod iam putem fieri posse. sed tamen hominis hoc ipsum probi est + magnum sit+ ton politikotaton skemmaton, veniendumne sit in consilium tyranni si is aliqua de re bona deliberaturus sit. qua re si quid eius modi evenerit ut arcessamur (quod equidem non credo. quid enim essem de pace dicturus? dixi, ipse valde repudiavit), sed tamen si quid acciderit, quid censeas mihi faciendum utique scribito. nihil enim mihi adhuc accidit quod maioris consili esset. Trebati, boni viri et civis, verbis te gaudeo delectatum, tuaque ista crebra ekphonesis 'hupereu' me sola adhuc delectavit. Litteras tuas vehementer exspecto; quas quidem credo iam datas esse. tu cum Sexto servasti gravitatem eandem quam mihi praecipis. Celer tuus disertus magis est quam sapiens. de iuvenibus quae ex Tullia audisti vera sunt. Mucianum istud quod scribis non mihi videtur tam re esse triste quam verbo. haec est ale in qua nunc sumus mortis instar. aut enim mihi libere inter malos politeuteon fuit aut vel periculose cum bonis. aut nos temeritatem bonorum sequamur aut audaciam improborum insectemur. Vtrumque periculosum est, at hoc quod agimus turpe nec tamen tutum. istum qui filium Brundisium de pace misit (de pace idem sentio quod tu, simulationem esse apertam, parari autem acerrime bellum), me legatum iri non arbitror, cuius adhuc, ut optavi, mentio facta nulla sit. eo minus habeo necesse scribere aut etiam cogitare quid sim facturus, si acciderit ut leger.