Marcus Tullius Cicero→Titus Pomponius Atticus|c. 60 BC|Cicero|From Rome|To Rome/Athens|AI-assisted
I feel exactly as you write: Sampsiceramus [Cicero's mocking nickname for Pompey] is in turmoil. There is nothing that need not be feared; by common admission he is preparing a tyranny. For what do that sudden marriage-alliance, the Campanian land, the pouring out of money signify? Even if these things were the limit, it would still be too much of an evil; but the nature of the matter is such that these cannot be the limit. For what? Can these very things by themselves give them pleasure? They would never have come to this point unless they were preparing for themselves an approach to other ruinous designs. But, as you write, we shall not weep over these things at the place in Arpinum around the sixth day before the Ides of May [about May 10], lest both the labor and the lamp-oil of our literary studies should be wasted; instead we shall talk it over with a tranquil mind. [2] By the immortal gods, good hope does not console me as much as it did before, but rather indifference does, which I employ in no matter so much as in this civil and public one. Indeed, that part of me which is somewhat empty and not free of love of glory (for it is a fine thing to know one's own faults) is even affected by a certain pleasure. For it used to sting me that Sampsiceramus's services to the fatherland might appear greater than ours for six hundred years to come. From this anxiety, at any rate, I am now certainly free; for he lies so prostrate that the Curian cause [reading uncertain] seems to stand firm. But of this in person. [3] You, however, seem to me likely to be at Rome at the time of our arrival, which I should certainly bear with ease, if it could be done at your convenience; but if you will come as you write, I should like you to fish out from Theophanes just what disposition the arabarches [the "tax-collector"; another mocking name for Pompey] has toward me. You will inquire, of course, in the manner befitting one who looks after my interests, and you will bring back from him to me, as it were, guidelines as to how I should conduct myself. From his conversation we shall be able to form some conjecture about the whole situation.
I agree entirely with what you say in your letter. The Pasha is running amuck. We may anticipate anything: he is quite clearly setting up a tyranny. What else is the meaning of this sudden marriage-contract, of the proposals about the Campanian land, of this reckless expenditure of money? If that were the end of it, it would be disastrous enough: but the nature of the case makes it impossible that this should be the end. These things in themselves cannot possibly give them any pleasure: and they would never have taken this step except as the first to other pernicious acts. But, as you say, we will discuss these questions rationally at Arpinum about the 10th of May, and not prove all the labour and the midnight oil we have spent on our studies wasted by weeping over them. Heaven help us! I derive consolation not so much from hope, as I did formerly, as from a spirit of indifference, which I call to my service especially in civic and political matters. Nay more, the little strain of vanity and thirst for fame that there is in me—it is a good thing to recognize one’s own faults—even experiences a pleasurable sensation. For the thought that the Pasha’s services to the country might in the dim future be reckoned higher than mine, used to prick me to the heart: but now I rest quite easy on that score. He has fallen so low that the fallen Curius in comparison seems to stand erect. But of this when we meet. It seems now as though you will be at Rome when I arrive: for which I shall not be at all sorry, if it is
convenient to you. But if you come to see me, as you promise in your note, I wish you would fish out of Theophanes how the Sheikh is disposed to me. You will of course use your usual care in inquiring, and will deliver to me a kind of Whole Duty by which to regulate my conduct. From his conversation we shall be able to get an inkling of the entire situation.
prorsus ut scribis ita sentio, turbatur Sampsiceramus. nihil est quod non timendum sit; homologoumenos turannida suskeuazetai. quid enim ista repentina adfinitatis coniunctio, quid ager Campanus, quid effusio pecuniae significant? quae si essent extrema tamen esset nimium mali, sed ea natura rei est ut haec extrema esse non possint. quid enim? eos haec ipsa per se delectare possunt? numquam huc venissent nisi ad alias res pestiferas aditus sibi compararent. verum, ut scribis, haec in Arpinati a. d. vi circiter Idus Maias non deflebimus, ne et opera et oleum philologiae nostrae perierit; sed conferemus tranquillo animo. [2] di immortales neque tam me euelpistia consolatur ut antea quam adiaphoria, qua nulla in re tam utor quam in hac civili et publica. quin etiam quod est subinane in nobis et non aphilodoxon (bellum est enim sua vitia nosse), id adficitur quadam delectatione. solebat enim me pungere ne Sampsicerami merita in patriam ad annos sescentos maiora viderentur quam nostra. hac quidem cura certe iam vacuus sum; iacet enim ille sic ut + phocis + Curiana stare videatur. sed haec coram. [3] tu tamen videris mihi Romae fore ad nostrum adventum, quod sane facile patiar si tuo commodo fieri possit; sin ut scribis ita venies, velim ex Theophane expiscere quonam in me animo sit arabarches. quaeres scilicet kata to kedemonikon et ad me ab eo quasi hupothekas adferes quem ad modum me geram. aliquid ex eius sermone poterimus peri ton holon suspicari.
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I feel exactly as you write: Sampsiceramus [Cicero's mocking nickname for Pompey] is in turmoil. There is nothing that need not be feared; by common admission he is preparing a tyranny. For what do that sudden marriage-alliance, the Campanian land, the pouring out of money signify? Even if these things were the limit, it would still be too much of an evil; but the nature of the matter is such that these cannot be the limit. For what? Can these very things by themselves give them pleasure? They would never have come to this point unless they were preparing for themselves an approach to other ruinous designs. But, as you write, we shall not weep over these things at the place in Arpinum around the sixth day before the Ides of May [about May 10], lest both the labor and the lamp-oil of our literary studies should be wasted; instead we shall talk it over with a tranquil mind. [2] By the immortal gods, good hope does not console me as much as it did before, but rather indifference does, which I employ in no matter so much as in this civil and public one. Indeed, that part of me which is somewhat empty and not free of love of glory (for it is a fine thing to know one's own faults) is even affected by a certain pleasure. For it used to sting me that Sampsiceramus's services to the fatherland might appear greater than ours for six hundred years to come. From this anxiety, at any rate, I am now certainly free; for he lies so prostrate that the Curian cause [reading uncertain] seems to stand firm. But of this in person. [3] You, however, seem to me likely to be at Rome at the time of our arrival, which I should certainly bear with ease, if it could be done at your convenience; but if you will come as you write, I should like you to fish out from Theophanes just what disposition the arabarches [the "tax-collector"; another mocking name for Pompey] has toward me. You will inquire, of course, in the manner befitting one who looks after my interests, and you will bring back from him to me, as it were, guidelines as to how I should conduct myself. From his conversation we shall be able to form some conjecture about the whole situation.
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
prorsus ut scribis ita sentio, turbatur Sampsiceramus. nihil est quod non timendum sit; homologoumenos turannida suskeuazetai. quid enim ista repentina adfinitatis coniunctio, quid ager Campanus, quid effusio pecuniae significant? quae si essent extrema tamen esset nimium mali, sed ea natura rei est ut haec extrema esse non possint. quid enim? eos haec ipsa per se delectare possunt? numquam huc venissent nisi ad alias res pestiferas aditus sibi compararent. verum, ut scribis, haec in Arpinati a. d. vi circiter Idus Maias non deflebimus, ne et opera et oleum philologiae nostrae perierit; sed conferemus tranquillo animo. [2] di immortales neque tam me euelpistia consolatur ut antea quam adiaphoria, qua nulla in re tam utor quam in hac civili et publica. quin etiam quod est subinane in nobis et non aphilodoxon (bellum est enim sua vitia nosse), id adficitur quadam delectatione. solebat enim me pungere ne Sampsicerami merita in patriam ad annos sescentos maiora viderentur quam nostra. hac quidem cura certe iam vacuus sum; iacet enim ille sic ut + phocis + Curiana stare videatur. sed haec coram. [3] tu tamen videris mihi Romae fore ad nostrum adventum, quod sane facile patiar si tuo commodo fieri possit; sin ut scribis ita venies, velim ex Theophane expiscere quonam in me animo sit arabarches. quaeres scilicet kata to kedemonikon et ad me ab eo quasi hupothekas adferes quem ad modum me geram. aliquid ex eius sermone poterimus peri ton holon suspicari.