Latin Texts & Translations

CCCLXXVII (A X, I)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) LATERIUM, 3 APRIL

Having arrived at my brother's house at Laterium on the 3rd of April, I received your letter and felt a moment of relief—a thing that hadn't happened to me since these disasters. For I value very highly your approval of my firmness of mind and my course of action. As your announcement that our friend Sextus also approves, the joy that that gives me is as though I imagined myself to be receiving the approbation of his father, for whom I always had a peculiar and special regard. It was he, as I am often accustomed to recall, who, in old times, on the famous 5th of December, when I said, "What to do then, Sextus?" answered me by quoting: Ah, not a coward's death, nor shorn of fame,
But after some high deed to live for aye.
^[Note]

His influence, therefore, is still living for me, and his son, who is extremely like him, has the same importance in my eyes as he once had. Pray give him my very kindest regards.

You certainly defer giving advice, though not to a very distant date; for I imagine by this time that that suborned peacemaker ^[Note] has had his say, and that some decision has

been arrived at in the convention of senators—for I don't consider it a senate-nevertheless, you do keep one in suspense as to what it is to be, yet the less so because I feel no hesitation as to what we ought to do. For when you write word that a legion and Sicily are being offered to Flavius, and that that business is already being carried out, what crimes must you think are partly being actually proposed and meditated, partly will crop up in the future? I, for my part, shall disregard the law of Solon—your countryman, and presently, I think, to be mine—who punished by disfranchisement the man who, in a case of civil disturbance, took neither side. Unless you think otherwise, I shall hold aloof both from the one and the other. But one of the two courses is more decidedly resolved upon in my mind, and yet I will not anticipate. I shall await your advice and the letter (unless you have by this time sent another) which I asked you to deliver to Cephalio. You say, not because you have heard it from anyone else, but because it is your personal belief, that I shall be drawn into any negotiation there may be about peace. I have no idea at all of any negotiation for peace being possible, since it is Caesar's most fixed determination, if he can, to strip Pompey of his army and province, ^[Note] unless, perchance, that well-paid friend of yours can persuade him to keep quiet long enough to allow commissioners to go and return. I see nothing to hope for or to think of as possible. Nevertheless, this is itself a point for an honest man to consider: it is important and among the problems of l'haute politique ^[Note] —whether one ought to appear at the council-board of a tyrant, if he is going to discuss some subject good in itself. Wherefore, if anything should turn up of a sort to lead to my being summoned—which for my part does not give me any anxiety, for I have said what I intended saying about peace, and Caesar himself emphatically repudiated it—but if anything should turn up, write and tell me in any case what you think I ought to do. For nothing has as yet occurred to me requiring more

deliberation. I rejoice that you are pleased with the words of Trebatius, a good man and a good citizen; and your own frequent exclamation of "excellent" has been the one thing up to now that has given me pleasure. I am looking eagerly for a letter from you which, indeed, I feel sure is already on its way. You, along with Sextus, have maintained the same dignified resolve as youenjoin upon me. Your friend Celer is rather a man of learning than of good sense. What Tullia has told you about our young men is true. What you mention ^[Note] in your letter does not appear to me to be so formidable in fact as in sound. It is this state of distraction in which we now are that is a kind of death. I had two alternatives before me—either to continue active political life among the disloyal with freedom of action, or to side with the loyalists at whatever risk. Let me either follow the fool-hardy counsels of the loyalists, or attack the reckless measures of the disloyal. Either is dangerous: but what I am now doing is discreditable and yet not safe. I think that your friend who sent his son to Brundisium ^[Note] to negotiate a peace (I am quite of your opinion as to peace, that it is a palpable pretence, and that war is being prepared with the utmost energy) will be commissioned, not myself; of which as yet no word, to my great relief, has been said. I therefore think it the less necessary to write, or even to consider what I should do, if I should happen to be commissioned.

CCCLXXVIII (A X, 2)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) ARCANUM, 6 APRIL

HAVING received your letter on the 5th of April, which Cephalio brought, and intending to stop the next day at Minturnae meaning to start back thence at once, I broke

my journey at my brother's house at Arcanum, in order that, until I got more certain intelligence, I might be in a more retired place, and yet all the preparations should go on which do not require my presence. The "twitterer" ^[Note] is now here, and I am all eagerness to be gone; and yet I have no idea of destination or route. But these points I and those who understand such things will have to settle. Yet pray, to the best of your power, continue to aid us as before with your advice. Things are in an impossible tangle. Everything has to be left to chance. We are struggling along without any hope. If anything better turns up, it will be a surprise. I would rather Dionysius, of whom Tullia has written me word, had not set out to join me. The truth is that it is not a suitable time, nor do I wish that my discomforts-especially considering their gravity-should furnish a spectacle to a man who is not my friend, and I don't want you to be at enmity with him on my account.

CCCLXXIX (A X, 3)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) ARCANUM, 7 APRIL

THOUGH I have absolutely nothing to write about, yet there are these remaining points which I want to know-whether Caesar has started; in what position he has left the city; in Italy itself, whom he has placed at the head of each region or department of business; and who were sent to Pompey and the consuls as peace commissioners, in accordance with the decree of the senate? So to ascertain these facts I make a point of sending this letter to you. You will be doing me, therefore, a great service, and one I shall be grateful for, if you will inform me on these points and any other that it is necessary to know. I shall stay in Arcanum until I get the information.

CCCLXXX (A X, 3 a)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) ARCANUM, 7 APRIL

I am dictating this letter on the 7th of April—the second on the same day—and I wrote a longer one the day before with my own hand. They say that you have appeared at the Regia, ^[Note] and I don't blame you, seeing that I have not shrunk from incurring the like criticism. ^[Note] But I await a letter from you. I really don't see now what I have to expect, but nevertheless, even if there is nothing to say, I should like you to write and tell me only that; Caesar writes to say that he excuses my non-appearance, and declares that he doesn't take it at all amiss. I am not disturbed by what he tells me about Tullus and Servius, that they have grumbled at his not having given them the same licence as he did to me Absurd fellows! To send their sons to besiege Gnaeus Pompeius, ^[Note] and then to scruple about coming to the senate themselves. I However, I am sending you a copy of Caesar's letter.

CCCLXXXI (A X, 4)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 14 APRIL

I have received a large number of letters from you on the same day, all carefully written; one, however, which amounts to a volume, deserving to be read again and again, as I am doing. The labour of writing it was not thrown away, and I am excessively obliged to you. Wherefore, as long as circumstances allow of it, that is, as long as you know where I

am, I earnestly beg of you to repeat the experiment as often as possible. Yes, indeed: let there be once for all an end, if possible, to these daily lamentations, or at any rate some sort of restraint in them, which at least is possible. For it is not now the rank, the honours, or the position in life which I have lost that I am thinking of; but what I have actually attained to, the services I have performed, the reputation in which I have lived: in fine, the difference, even in these disastrous circumstances, between myself and those through whom I have lost all. These are the men who thought that, without expelling me from the state, they could not maintain the free gratification of their desires; and you see to what this close alliance and unprincipled coalition of theirs has come!

The one leader is in a fever of mad fury and crime: there is no slackening with him: his hand grows heavier every day. Not long ago. he expelled Pompey from Italy. Now on one side of the empire he is for pursuing him, on the other for stripping him of his province. He no longer refuses, he even in a sense demands, to have the title of tyrant, as he already is one in fact. The other—the man who once upon a time did not so much as raise me up when I threw myself at his feet—the man who said he could do nothing against Caesar's wish— having evaded the hand and sword of his father-in-law, is now preparing war by land and sea: not an unjust one on his part indeed, but both righteous and even necessary, but yet one fatal to his fellow citizens unless he prove victorious, fraught with disaster even if he is victorious.

Not only do I not rate the achievements of these supreme commanders as superior to my own: I do not even consider that their present position is any better, though they seem to be in a very brilliant one, and I to be struggling with a harder fate. For who can be happy who has caused either the abandonment or the invasion of his country? And if, as you remind me, I was right in saying in these books that the only good was virtue, the only evil vice, certainly both those men are in the highest degree miserable, for to both the safety and dignity of their country have always been subordinate to their own power and their private advantage. I am therefore sustained by the purity of my conscience, when

I reflect that I either performed the most eminent services to the state, when I had the power, or at least never harboured any but loyal thoughts; and that the republic has been wrecked by precisely the storm which I foresaw fourteen years ago. With such feelings, then, as my companions, shall I set out, not indeed without a bitter pang, and that, not so much for my own or my brother's sake (for our life is practically over) as for our sons, for whom at times it seems to me that we were bound to have secured, among other things, the integrity of the constitution. Of them the one, because he is not after all more dutiful than he is, gives me extraordinary pain: while the other—Oh dear Oh dear! it is the keenest sorrow of my life—corrupted no doubt by our system of indulgence, has gone very far, to a point indeed which I do not venture to describe. ^[Note] I am expecting, too, a letter from you: for you said that you would write at greater length when you had seen the young man himself. All my indulgent conduct to him has been accompanied with considerable strictness, and it is not one only or a small peccadillo of his that I have come down upon, but many and very serious ones; his father's gentleness to him also ought to have secured his affection, rather than such unfeeling disrespect. The fact is that his writing to Caesar caused us such serious annoyance, that, while we concealed it from you, we yet, I think, made his own life unpleasant. This recent journey of his, however, and his pretence of loyalty to us ^[Note] I do not venture to characterize. I only know that after visiting Hirtius he was invited to an interview by Caesar, that he talked to him about my feeling as being entirely opposed to his own views, and of my design of quitting Italy. Even this I do not write with confidence. Well, it is not my fault, it is his natural disposition that must cause us alarm. It was this that corrupted Curio and the son of Hortensius, not their fathers' fault. My brother is prostrate

with grief, and is not so much afraid for his own life as for mine. To this misery pray, pray, bring any consolations that you can; above all I should prefer one—the assurance that the story told us is false or exaggerated. If it is true, I don't see what is to happen in our present state of life, when we are practically exiles. For if the Republic had still had any existence, I should have been at no loss what to do either by way of severity or indulgence. Whether it is the influence of anger, or pain, or fear, I have written this in a tone of greater severity than either your affection for him or mine would seem to warrant. If it is true, you must pardon me: if false, I shall be only too glad to be relieved of my mistake by you. But whatever the truth of the matter may be, you must not attribute any blame to his uncle or father.

I had written so far when a message was brought from Curio's house that he was coming to call on me. He had arrived at his Cuman villa yesterday, that is, the 13th. If his conversation, therefore, furnishes me with any subject worth writing to you, I will append it to this letter.

Curio passed by my villa and sent me a message to say that he was coming presently, and hurried on to Puteoli to make a public speech there. He made his speech, returned, and paid me a very long visit. Monstrous! You know our friend: he made no concealments. To begin with, he said that it was absolutely certain that all who had been condemned under the lex Pompeia ^[Note] were being recalled, ^[Note] and that accordingly he would avail himself of their services in Sicily. As to the Spains, he had no doubt about their being Caesar's; and from them Caesar would himself march with an army wherever Pompey was: that an end would be put to the whole mischief by the latter's death: that in an access of anger Caesar had really wished the tribune Metellus to be killed, ^[Note] and that it was within an ace of being done:

if it had been done, there would have followed a serious massacre: that a great many people advised one: that Caesar himself was not by taste or nature averse from bloodshed, but thought clemency would win him popularity: if, however, he once lost the affection of the people, he would be cruel: he was, again, much disturbed by finding that he had caused ill-feeling among the populace itself by taking the treasury, and therefore that, though he had quite made up his mind to address the people before leaving Rome, he had not ventured to do so, and had started with very disturbed feelings. ^[Note] When again I asked what he saw in the future, what final result, and what sort of a constitution, he openly confessed that there was no hope left. He expressed fear of Pompey's fleet, and said that, if it put out to sea, he should abandon Sicily. "What is the meaning of your lictors?" said I. " If derived from the senate, why laurelled? If from Caesar, why six?" "I wanted," said he, "to get my authority from a decree of the senate, though by a snatch vote, for it could not be done otherwise. But Caesar now dislikes the senate much more than ever. 'Everything,' he says, 'will in future come from me."' "But why six? " ^[Note] "Because I did not want twelve; I might have had them." Then I said, "How I wish I had asked him for what I hear Philippus ^[Note] has succeeded in getting! But I was afraid to senate, because his enemies put up the tribune L. Caecilius Metellus to veto every proposal (Caesar, B.C. i 33).

ask, as I had made no concession to him." "He would have gladly given you leave," said he: "indeed, consider that you have obtained it; for I will write and tell him, exactly as you like, that we have spoken on the subject. What does it matter to him, since you do not attend the senate, where you are? Nay, at this very moment you would not have damaged his cause in the least by having quitted Italy." In answer to this I said that I was looking out for some retired and solitary spot, chiefly because I still had lictors. He commended my design. "What do you say to this, then?" said I. "My course to Greece lies through your province, since the coast of the Mare Superum is guarded by troops." "Nothing I should like better," said he. On this subject he spoke at great length and in a very courteous tone. So then I have gained this much, that I can sail not only in safety, but even without concealment. All other subjects of discussion he put off till the next day; and, if any of them seem worth a letter, I will write and tell you. But there are some things which I omitted to ask him: whether Caesar intended to wait for an interregnum, or what he meant by saying, as he did, that he was offered the consulship, but refused it for the next year. And there are other points on which I will question him. To crown all he swore—as he usually makes no difficulty of doing—that Caesar must be very fond of me. "Why, what," continued he, "did Dolabella write to me?" "Pray tell me what." He then declared that Dolabella had written to say that, for having desired me to come to the city, Caesar had thanked him warmly, and not only expressed approbation, but joy. In short, I was relieved. For the suspicion of domestic treachery and of the conversation with Hirtius was removed. ^[Note] How I long for young Quintus to be worthy of us, and how I encourage myself to believe what is in his favour! But need he have visited Hirtius? There is, no doubt, some motive or other; but I would wish it as slight as possible. And, after all, I am surprised at his not yet having returned. But we shall see about all this. Please

put the Oppii at Terentia's service. For that is the only danger in the city now. ^[Note] For myself, however, give me the benefit of your advice, as to whether I should go to Rhegium by land, or start straight from this place on board ship, and on other points; for I am still staying here. I shall have something to write to you about as soon as I have seen Curio again. Pray be as careful as ever to let me know how Tiro is.

CCCLXXXIII (A X, 5)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 16 APRIL

ABOUT my plans as a whole I have written to you, I think, before in sufficient detail. About the day of my departure I can state nothing for certain, except this: not before the new moon. Curio's conversation on the second day's inter-view amounted to much the same, except that he indicated still more candidly that he did not see what was to be the end of the business.

As to your charge to me to control Quintus ... 'tis a case of asking for Arcadia. ^[Note] However, I will omit nothing. And would that you—but I will not be over troublesome. I at once forwarded the packet to Vestorius, and, indeed, he was always asking for it. Vettienus was more obliging in what he said to you than in what he had written to me. But I cannot wonder enough at the man's carelessness. For Philotimus having told me that he could buy that lodge of Canuleius for 50 sestertia, and could get it for even less, if I asked Vettienus to act, I did ask the latter to obtain a deduction from that sum if he could. He promised to do so. He told me that he had bought it for 30 sestertia, and asked me to let him know to whom I wished it conveyed; saying that the day for payment was the 13th of November. I wrote back somewhat crossly, and yet with a familiar

jest. ^[Note] For the present, as he is acting handsomely, I refrain from finding any fault with the man, and I have written to tell him that you have given me full information. Pray let me know about your journey, what you are thinking of doing, and when.

16 April.

CCCLXXXV (A X, 6)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE APRIL (BEFORE THE 27TH)

UP to this time the only thing stopping me is the weather. I am not going in for any sharp practice. Let what will happen in Spain, nevertheless my decision stands-partons! I have explained all my ideas to you in a previous letter. Therefore this is a short one, as also because I am in haste and more busy than usual. As to young Quintus, "I am doing my best"—you know the rest. ^[Note] Your next piece of advice is at once friendly and wise: but everything else will be plain sailing, if I only keep on my guard against him. ^[Note] It is no easy task: there are many perplexing traits in his character: no simplicity, no straightforwardness. I could wish that you.had undertaken the management of the young

man. For his father is too indulgent: whenever I tighten the rein, he slackens it again. If I had been able to act without his father, I should have controlled him: and this you can do. But I excuse you: it is, I say, no light task. I regard it as certain that Pompey is going through Illyricum into Gaul. ^[Note] By what route and whither I am to go now, I shall consider.

CCCLXXXVII (A X, 7)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE (LATE IN APRIL)

YES, I quite approve of your staying in Apulia and Sipontum, and of your avoiding committing yourself; and I do not think your case is on all fours with mine. Not but that in regard to the constitution the right course is the same for us both—but there is now no question of the constitution. It is a contest of rival kings, in which the more moderate king, and the more virtuous and clean-handed of the two, has been defeated, the one, too, whose defeat involves the necessary destruction of the very name of the Roman people: while, if he does conquer, he will use his victory after the manner and precedent of Sulla. ^[Note] Therefore in this quarrel you must not openly profess adherence to either side, and must wait on events. My position, however, is different, because, being under the bond of an obligation, I cannot shew myself ungrateful, and yet do not meditate being at the seat of war, but at Malta or some similar retired place. "Do you do nothing to help the man," you will say, "to whom you do not wish to be ungrateful?" Nay, I think he would perhaps have been glad if I had done less. But as to this we shall see. Let me only get out of the country, and I have a better opportunity of doing so now that Dolabella is on the Adriatic, Curio in the Sicilian straits. However, I have had a certain revival of hope from the fact that Servius Sulpicius wishes an interview with me. I have sent my freedman Philotimus with a letter to him: if he chooses to play the man, we ever. Curio has been staying with me: his idea is that Caesar is in low water from having offended the multitude: and he was nervous about going to Sicily, if Pompey should begin naval operations.

I gave it to young Quintus when he returned! I perceive that it was a piece of avarice on his part, and a hope of a large bounty. This is a serious evil enough, but the crime which I feared I hope he did not commit. ^[Note] However, I think you are convinced that this vice has not arisen from my indulgence, but from his natural disposition: still I will school and control him. As to the Oppii of Velia, please consult with Philotimus, and arrange as you think proper. I shall look on Epirus as at my service, but I seem destined to quite a different voyage.

CCCXCI (A X, 8)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 2 MAY

THE state of affairs itself, as well as your remark and my own observation, make it clear that the time has come to put an end to our correspondence on subjects which it would be dangerous to have intercepted. But as my dear Tullia keeps writing to me begging me to wait and see how things go in Spain, and always adds that this is your opinion also, and since I have gathered this also from your own letter, I do not think it out of place to write and tell you what I think on that point. This advice of yours would be prudent, as it seems to me, only if I intended to shape my course of policy in accordance with the result of the Spanish affair, which is impossible. For it is inevitable either that Caesar—what I should like best—is driven from Spain, or that the campaign there will be a protracted one, or (as he seems to feel certain) that he gets Spain into his hands. If he is driven out, how can I then join Pompey with any grace or honour, when I should think even Curio himself would desert to him? If, again, the war is protracted, what am I to wait for, and how long? The only alternative is, if we are beaten in Spain, to keep quiet. My view is quite the other way. For I think myself more bound to abandon Caesar when he is victorious than when he is beaten, and not more when his success is still

uncertain, than when he is quite sure of it. ^[Note] For, if Caesar conquers, I foresee massacre, an attack on private wealth, a recall of exiles, repudiation of debts, promotion to office of the lowest dregs, and a despotism intolerable, I don't say to any Roman, but even to a Persian. Will it be possible for my indignation to remain silent? Will my eyes be able to endure the sight of myself delivering my vote by the side of Gabinius—or, in fact, of his being called on before me? Of your client Sext. Clodius ^[Note] in attendance? Of C. Ateius's client Plaguleius? And so on with the whole list. But why collect the names of my opponents, when I shall be unable to see in the senate-house without pain my friends whom I have defended, or to associate with them without dishonour. ^[Note] Nay, what if I am not even sure that I shall be allowed to come? His friends write me word that he is by no means satisfied with my conduct in not having appeared in the senate. Am I, nevertheless, to think about making advances to him with a risk to myself, after refusing to be united to him when it was to my advantage? Besides, observe that the decision of the whole controversy does not depend on Spain, unless you really think that Pompey will throw down his arms if that is lost! On the contrary, his view is entirely that of Themistocles: for he holds that the master of the sea must inevitably be master of the empire. Accordingly, his object has never been to retain Spain for its own sake: the equipment of a fleet has always been his first care. He will take to the sea, therefore, as soon as the season permits, with an enormous fleet, and will approach the shores of Italy: and what then will be our position who remain there doing nothing? It will be impossible for us to be any longer neutral. Shall we resist the fleet then? What could be a greater crime, or even so great? In fact, what could be more ignominious? I did not shrink from opposing Caesar when I was isolated: shall I do

so now with the support of Pompey and the rest of the nobles? ^[Note] If, however, putting the question of duty aside, I must take account of danger: it is, if I do wrong, that there is danger from these last, from him, if I do right: nor in such miserable circumstances can any policy be discovered so free from danger, as to make me doubt that I should shun doing disgracefully, when it is dangerous, what I should have shunned doing, even had it been safe. "Not if I had crossed the sea along with Pompey?" That was impossible in any case: you have only to count the days. But all the same—for let me confess the truth (I do not even atttempt concealment), supposing it possible—I was mistaken in a point in which, perhaps, I ought not to have been mistaken: I thought that there would be a reconciliation, and in that case I did not want to have Caesar incensed with me, while he was friends with Pompey. ^[Note] For I had learnt to see how exactly alike they were. It was from dread of this that I drifted into this waiting policy. But now I have everything to gain by hastening, everything to lose by delay. And, nevertheless, my dear Atticus, there are auguries also which incite me to action with a certain hope, and no doubtful one, auguries not such as our college derives from Attus, ^[Note] hut those of Plato on tyrants. ^[Note] For I see clearly that he can by no possibility keep his position much longer without bringing on his own collapse, even though we do not exert ourselves: seeing that at the very heyday of his success, and with the charm of novelty upon him, in six or seven days, he brought upon himself the bitterest hatred even of that needy

and reckless city rabble itself and had to drop so quickly two of his assumptions—of clemency in the case of Metellus, ^[Note] of wealth in the matter of the treasury. ^[Note] Of what sort, again, will he find his confederates or subordinates, whichever you please to call them, if those are to rule provinces, of whom not one could manage his own estate two months? I need not enumerate all the points, which no one sees more clearly than yourself. Still, put them before your eyes: you will at once understand that this despotism can scarcely last six months. If I turn out to be mistaken in this, I will bear it, as many most illustrious men, eminent in the state, have borne it, unless you should actually think that I prefer the fate of Sardanapalus—to die in his own bed, rather than in an exile, as was the fate of Themistocles: who though he had been—in the words of Thucydides ^[Note] —" the best judge on the shortest reflexion of the question of the moment, and, in regard to the future, by much the shrewdest at conjecturing what was to happen," yet fell into misfortunes which he would have avoided, if nothing had ever escaped him. Though he was a man, as the same writer says, "who, however obscure the subject, saw the better and the worse course more clearly than anyone, yet did not see how to avoid the jealousy of the Lacedaemonians, nor of his own fellow citizens, nor what promise to make to Artaxerxes. Nor would that night have been so fatal to Africanus, ^[Note] nor that day of Sulla's triumph so disastrous to Gaius Marius, the craftiest of men, if neither of them had ever been mistaken. However, I encourage myself by that prophetic utterance (of Plato) which I mentioned. I am not deceived about it, nor will it happen otherwise. Fall he must, either by the hands of his opponents or by his own, who, indeed, is his own most

dangerous enemy. I only hope it may happen while we are still alive. Yet it is time for us to be thinking of that continuous life of the future, not of this brief span of our own. ^[Note] But if anything happens to me before that occurs, it will not have made much difference to me whether I live to see it, or have seen it long before. That being so, I must not allow myself to submit to men, against whom the senate armed me with authority "to see that the Republic took no harm."

All my interests have been confided to you, though they need no recommendation of mine, considering your affection for me. Nor, by Hercules, can I hit upon anything to write: for I am sitting waiting "sailing orders." Yet I never felt more bound to tell you anything than that none of all the delightful services you have done has been more grateful to my feelings, than your most delicate and careful attentions to my Tullia. She has herself been exceedingly charmed with them—as I have been no less. What high qualities she has shewn! How admirably she faces the public disaster! How admirably her domestic difficulties! What spirit she has displayed in the matter of my departure! She loves me dearly, she has the deepest sympathy with my feelings—yet she will have me act rightly and preserve my reputation. But don't let me enlarge too much on this theme, lest I should at this juncture rouse my own self-pity. If you get any surer intelligence about Spain, or anything else, pray write and tell me while I am still in the country; and, perhaps, at the moment of my departure I shall send you some intelligence, the more so that Tullia thinks that you are at present not thinking of leaving Italy. I must put before Antony, as I did before Curio, my wish to reside in Malta, and my determination not to take part in this civil war. I only hope I may find him as complaisant and good-natured to me as I did Curio. He is said to be intending to come to Misenum on the 2nd, that is, today: but he has sent me a disagreeable letter in advance, of which I inclose a copy. ^[Note]

CCCXC (A X, 8 a)

M. ANTONIUS TO CICERO (AT CUMAE) CAMPANIA (END OF APRIL)

HAD I not been warmly attached to you—much more warmly, indeed, than you suppose—I should not have been alarmed at the rumour which has reached me about you, especially as I thought it was without foundation. But just because I am so exceedingly devoted to you, I cannot conceal the fact that even a report, however groundless, is a serious thing in my eyes. I cannot believe that you are about to cross the sea, considering how highly you value Dolabella and your dear Tullia, and how highly you are valued by me, to whom, by heaven, your rank and reputation are almost dearer than they are to yourself. Nevertheless, I did not think that it would be friendly in me not to be rendered anxious by the talk even of men of low character. And, indeed, I have been the more zealous, because I considered that I had thrust upon me a somewhat difficult part to play, owing to the misunderstanding between us, which was the result of jealousy on my part rather than of any wrong done me by you. ^[Note] For I want to convince you that no one is dearer to me than you are, except my Caesar, and that my conviction at the same time is that Caesar gives M. Cicero a very high place among his friends. Wherefore, my dear Cicero, I beg you not to take any compromising step; and not to place any reliance on the man who, to do you a

favour, first inflicted an injury upon you; and, on the other hand, not to fly from one who, even supposing he loses all affection for you— which is impossible—will yet desire your safety and your highest honour. I have taken pains to send my most intimate friend Calpurnius ^[Note] to you, that you may know that your life and honour are great objects with me.

CCCLXXXIV (A X, 8 b)

CAESAR TO CICERO (AT FORMIAE) ON THE ROAD TO SPAIN, 16 APRIL

CAEsAR imperator greets Cicero imperator. Although I had come to the conclusion that you were not likely to do anything unadvisedly or imprudently, yet, being made anxious by common report, I thought that I ought to write to you and to appeal to you, in the name of our mutual kindness, not to go anywhere now that fortune has declared in my favour, that you had not thought yourself bound to go even when it was still uncertain. For you will have at once committed a somewhat serious offence against our friendship, and have adopted a course far from beneficial to yourself: since you will make it clear that you have not followed fortune—for all the good luck has notoriously been on our side, all the bad on theirs-nor the merits of the cause, for they are the same now as when you judged it best not to assist at their deliberations: but you will shew that you have condemned some act of mine, and that is the heaviest

blow you can inflict on me. In the name of our friendship, I beg you not to do so. Finally, what can be more becoming to a good man, and a peaceable and quiet citizen, than to hold aloof from civil strife? It is a thing some would have been glad to do, ^[Note] but could not on account of the danger. For yourself, when you have satisfied yourself as to the evidence which my life furnishes, and the decision at which my friendship for you has arrived, ^[Note] you will find nothing at once safer and more honourable than to abstain entirely from active intervention in the fray. On the march, 16 April.

CCCXCII (A X, 9)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 3 MAY

THE arrival of Philotimus—why, what a fellow! how insipid! what lies he keeps telling for Pompey !-frightened all my party to death. For myself, I have become hardened. None of my party doubted that Caesar had curtailed his marches: according to him, he is absolutely flying. None doubted Petreius having effected a junction with Afranius: he brings no tidings of the kind. In short, they have also been convinced of this—that Pompey, at the head of a large force, had marched into Germany by way of Illyricum; for that was announced on good authority. Well, then, I must make for Malta, I think, until we get fresh news from Spain. This, indeed, I almost think from Caesar's own letter that I may do with his approval: for he says that I cannot take a more honourable or safer course than to abstain from the combat altogether. You will say, "What has become, then, of that resolution of yours, which you described in your last?" It is here, and still unchanged. But would that I had to decide for my own person only! The tears of my family at times weaken my resolution, who beseech me to wait for the result in Spain. Caelius's letter, indeed, which was expressed in moving terms, containing an identical appeal—that I would not so rashly abandon my property, my only son, and all my family—our boys read with floods of tears. Though my own son is, in fact, the braver of the two, and for that very reason affects me more violently. His only anxiety is for my dignity. To Malta, then, and thence wherever it shall seem good! However, even now pray write something, and especially if there is any news from Afranius. On my part, if I have any conversation with Antony, I will write and tell you the result. Yet I will be cautious as to trusting him, as you warn me. For the policy of entire concealment is difficult, and dangerous into the bargain. I intend to wait for

Servius Sulpicius till the 15th; both Postumia and his son Servius urge me to do so. I am glad your quartan ague is better. I send you also a copy of Caelius's letter.

CCCXCIV (A X, 10)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 3 MAY

How blind of me not to have seen this before! I send you Antony's letter. After I had written again and again to say that I was not entertaining any plans against Caesar, that I remembered my son-in-law, remembered our friendship, that, if I had been otherwise minded, I might have been with Pompey, but that, as I had to my disgust to move about accompanied by lictors, I wished to be away from Italy, but had not made up my mind even to that—see what an admonitory tone ^[Note] he adopts in reply! Your decision is perfectly right. For the man who wishes to be neutral remains in the country: he who leaves it appears to express a judgment on one side or the other. But it is not my duty to determine whether a particular person

has the right to go or not. Caesar has assigned me my r™le, which is that I should not allow anyone at all to quit Italy. Therefore it matters little that I approve your idea in the present instance, since I have, nevertheless, no power to grant you any exemption. My opinion is that you should communicate with Caesar direct and ask his leave. I feel no doubt that you will obtain it, especially as you promise that you will take our friendship into consideration. There is a Laconic despatch for you! ^[Note] In any case I will wait for the man himself. He is to arrive on the 3rd, that is, today. Tomorrow, therefore, he will perhaps come to see me. I will test him: I will listen to what he has to say: I will declare loudly that I am in no hurry, that I will communicate with Caesar. I will lie perdu somewhere with the smallest number of attendants possible: at any rate, let these men be ever so reluctant to allow it, from this country I will wing my way, and oh that it might be to Curio! ^[Note] Don't mistake what I say. Something worthy of me shall be effected. This is a new and heavy anxiety: I am much distressed by your strangury. Take medical advice, I beseech you, whilst it is in an early stage. I am delighted with your letter about the Massilians. ^[Note] I beg you to let me know if you get any news. I should have liked to have Ocella with me, if I could manage it without any concealment; and I had extracted from Curio a promise that I should. Here I am waiting for Servius Sulpicius, for I am requested to do so by his wife and son, and I think it is necessary to see him. Antony, for his part, is carrying about Cytheris with him with his sedan open, as a second wife. ^[Note] There are, besides, seven sedans in his train, containing friends female or male

See in what disgraceful circumstances we are being done to death: and doubt, if you can, that if Caesar returns victorious, he will use the sword. For my part, I will withdraw myself in a cock-boat, if I can't get a ship, from their parricidal proceedings. But I shall know more when I have had my interview with him. Our young nephew I cannot help loving, but I see clearly that he does not love me. I never saw a case of such want of principle, of such aversion to his own relations, and of such brooding over mysterious designs. What an overpowering number of anxieties! But it will be my care, as it is now, to correct him. His natural abilities are admirable: it is his character that wants attention.

CCCXCV (A X, 11)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 4 MAY

AFTER I had sealed my previous packet, I changed my mind about intrusting it to the man to whom I had intended doing so, because he was a stranger. Accordingly, it was not despatched the same day. Meanwhile Philotimus arrived and delivered me a letter from you. What you say in it about my brother does not, indeed, shew as much firmness on his part as one could wish, yet it does not imply any , any treachery, or any obstinate aversion from good, nothing that you cannot turn in any direction you please in one conversation. In short, he holds all his family in great affection-even those with whom he is too often angry—me he loves more dearly than himself. His having written about his boy in one tone to you, and in another to the boy's mother, I see no reason to blame. I am vexed at what you say about the journey and your sister, and the more so that the state of my affairs is such that I can apply no remedy to those things. For I certainly would have done so. But you see my unfortunate position and the desperate state of my affairs. His financial

position is not of such a nature—for I hear frequently from him personally—as to prevent his being eager to repay you, and being really anxious on that point. But if such a man as Q. Axius, because I am thus in exile, does not pay me thirteen sestertia, which I lent his son, and pleads the hardness of the times, if Lepta and everybody else do the same, it is wont to make me feel some surprise when he tells me that he is being pressed for an insignificant sum of twenty sestertia. For you, of course, see what his difficulties are. However, he is directing the money to be paid in any case to your order. Do you think him slow or close in business of that kind? No one is less so. Enough about my brother. As for his son: his father has always spoilt him, but his indulgence is not responsible for his being untruthful, or grasping, or wanting in affection for his family, though it perhaps does make him headstrong and self-willed, as well as aggressive. Accordingly, these latter also are traits in his character, which are the results of over-indulgence, but they are pardonable—we must admit-considering what young men are nowadays. Those traits, however, which to me, at least, who love him, are more distressing than the very evils surrounding us, do not arise from excessive compliance on my part: for they have roots of their own, which, however, I would assuredly have torn up, had I been allowed to do so. But my circumstances are such that I must put up with anything. My own son I keep under control without difficulty. He is the most tractable boy possible; but my remorseful pity for him makes me less determined in politics, and the more he desires me to be staunch, the more I fear turning out a cruel father to him.

However, Antony arrived yesterday in the evening. Presently perhaps he will call on me, or, maybe, will not take even that trouble, since he has written to say what it is his pleasure should be done. But you shall know the result at once. Secrecy is my only course now. What can I do about the boys? Shall I trust them to a small vessel? What sort of courage do you think I shall have in the voyage? Why, I remember while sailing in that open Rhodian vessel in the summer how anxious I was: what do you think will be the case in a small despatch boat in the dangerous season of the year? Misery on every

side! Trebatius is with me, a right good man and good citizen. What frightful news he brings me, good heavens! Is even Balbus thinking, then, of an entrée into the senate? But I will give him a letter himself for you tomorrow. Yes, I believe Vettienus is, as you say, friendly to me. I answered him with rather a peppery jest, because he wrote to me somewhat abruptly about providing for payment of the money. Pray smooth him down, if he took it less good-temperedly than one could wish. I addressed him as monetalis, ^[Note] because he addressed me as proconsul. But as he is a good fellow and attached to me, let me keep my affection for him too. Farewell.

CCCXCVI (A X, 12)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 5 MAY

WHAT is to become of me? Who is there, I don't say more unfortunate, but in a more degraded position? Antony says that he has received express orders about me, and, nevertheless, he has as yet not been to see me, but told Trebatius this fact. What am I to do now? Nothing succeeds with me, and the plans which I form with the greatest care are just those which fail in the most shocking manner. Why, I thought when I had got Curio' s consent, that I had succeeded entirely. He had written about me to Hortensius. Reginus was wholly in my interests. ^[Note] I

never imagined that Antony would have anything to do with the western sea. Which way am I to turn now? I am watched on every side. But enough of tears! Well, then, I must steal away and creep stealthily into some merchant vessel: I must not expose myself to the suspicion of having connived at my being prevented from going. I must make for Sicily. If I once get there, I shall then have a greater step in my power. If things would only go as they should in Spain! However, I only hope the news about Sicily may prove true: but as yet we have had no luck. The Sicilians are said to have rallied round Cato, to have begged him to hold out, making all manner of promises. Affected by this, he is said to have begun holding a levy. ^[Note] I don't believe it, however distinguished the authority! I am aware that this province was at least capable of being held. However, we shall presently have news from Spain. We have C. Marcellus here, who is entertaining the same thoughts as myself, either sincerely, or making a good pretence of doing so. I have not, however, seen him personally, but have been told this by one of his most intimate friends. Pray send me any news you have: if I take any active step, I will at once let you know. I will treat young Quintus with more strictness. Would that I could do any good! However, pray some time or other tear up the letters in which I have written about him in a tone of severity, for fear of anything getting out at any time. I will do the same with yours.

I am still waiting for Servius, ^[Note] nor do I hear anything satisfactory from him. You shall know whatever does occur.

Without doubt I must confess to having made a mistake. For the first time? Or on one subject? Nay, the more deeply I have reflected on a thing, the more unwisely has its execution invariably been. But The past is past: though grieved, I'll let it be. ^[Note] Let us only take care not to come to grief in the future.

Well, you bid me make provision for my journey. What am I to provide? The possible accidents cover so wide a field, that, if I shrink from them, I must remain stationary with dishonour and sorrow; if I pay no heed to them, there is danger of my falling into the hands of unprincipled men. Only see in what a miserable position I am! At times I think that I should absolutely desire to receive some injury, however mortifying, from the Caesarians, to convince people that I have become an object of hatred to the tyrant. But if the voyage, on which I set my hopes, had been open to me, I would have certainly effected something, as you wish and advise, to justify my delay. But the closeness of the watch set upon me is surprising, and even Curio himself is an object of suspicion. So the two alternatives are to take the high hand, or to act secretly. If the former, I must have favourable weather. The latter means concealment from those men: ^[Note] and if any contretemps occurs in doing that, you must see in what an undignified position I shall be. I am at the mercy of circumstances, and must not shrink from a somewhat bold course. I often think of Caelius, ^[Note] and, if ever I have the like opportunity, I will not let it slip. I hope Spain is safe. The action of the Massilians is at once glorious in itself, and a proof to me that things are going well in Spain. They would not have been so bold, if it had been otherwise: and they would be sure to know, for they are close at hand as well as careful. ^[Note] Again, I am glad of your remark as to the popular dislike expressed in the theatre. Even these legions, which he took over in

Italy, I can see are very much disaffected to him. However, he has no worse enemy than himself. I quite agree with your dread that he may run amuck. If he once feels desperate, he certainly will do so. All the more reason for effecting something in the spirit (and, I hope, with better fortune) of Caelius. But one thing at a time: whatever it may be, you shall at once know all about it. I will furnish young Quintus with supplies, as you request, and will undertake the Arcadian task, or the whole Peloponnesus, if you like. ^[Note] Yes: he has ability, if he had but character. ^[Note] . .. And if he hasn't any as yet, he may acquire it, or virtue is not teachable, ^[Note] which I cannot be persuaded to believe.

CCCXCVII (A X, I3)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 7 MAY

YOUR letter was very gratifying to my Tullia, and, by Hercules, to me also. A letter from you always brings a ray of hope. Pray write, therefore, and if you can suggest anything hopeful, don't omit to do so. No, don't be afraid of Antony's lions. ^[Note] He is a charming fellow! Just listen to a statesman's conduct of affairs! He sent round a letter summoning ten leading men and the quatttuorviri from the muncipal towns. They came to his villa in the morning. In the first place, he remained asleep till nine

o'clock. Then on the announcement that the men had arrived from Naples and Cumae—for Caesar is angry with these towns—he ordered them to come again next day: he wanted to take a bath and to cure a looseness of the bowels. ^[Note] This was yesterday. Today, however, he purposes crossing to Aenaria. He intends promising the exiles there that they shall be recalled.

But enough of that. To return to ourselves: I have received a letter from Q. Axius. Thanks, about Tiro. Vettienus is a good fellow. I have repaid Vestorius. Servius is said to have stopped at Minturnae on the 6th of May, today he is to stop with C. Marcellus in his villa at Liternum. Early tomorrow, therefore, he will see me and will give me a theme for a letter to you. For at the present moment I can't think of anything to write to you about. One thing does surprise me, that Antony has not sent me even a message, especially as he has paid a great deal of attention to me. No doubt he is charged with some still sterner order as to me. He doesn't wish to say "No" to me face to face. I never meant to ask him the favour, nor, if he had granted it, should I have trusted his word. However, I will think out some plan. Please tell me any news from the Spains: for by this time it will be possible for some to be heard: and everybody's idea is that, if all is well there, there will be no more trouble. I, however, don't regard our cause as won if we retain them, nor utterly desperate if we lose them. Silius and Ocella and the rest, I suppose, are detained. I observe that you also are hindered by Curtius, ^[Note] though, as I think, you have a passport. ^[Note]

CCCXCVIII (A X, 14)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 8 MAY

WHAT a miserable state of existence! To be so long in fear is a greater evil than the very thing which is feared. Servius having arrived, as I told you before, on the 15th of May came to see me next day. Not to keep you in suspense, we arrived at no conclusion as to our policy. I never saw anybody so completely beside himself with fear; and yet, by Hercules, he feared nothing that was not a legitimate object of fear: "Pompey was angry with him, Caesar no friend to him: the victory of either one or the other was alarming, both because of the cruel nature of the one, the unscrupulousness of the other, and also because of the financial embarrassment of both, which could be relieved from no source except that of the property of private persons." And these remarks were accompanied with such floods of tears, that I wondered they had not run dry from such protracted misery. For my part, even the inflammation of the eyes, which prevents my writing to you with my own hand, is not accompanied with a single tear, but is very often troublesome from keeping me awake. Wherefore any consolations you can think of collect and write, not from philosophy and books—for of that I have a stock at home, though somehow or other the medicine is less potent than the disease: rather search for such news as that about Spain or Marseilles. Servius, indeed, brings a very satisfactory report about them, and also tells me that there is good authority for the story of the two legions. That is the sort of news, if you have any, and more like it. And, indeed, something must be heard before many days are over.

But I return to Servius. We in the end adjourned our conversation to the next day: but he is slow about leaving Italy. "He would much rather die in his own bed, whatever is to happen." He feels a painful hesitation as to his

son's service at Brundisium. ^[Note] There was one thing that he declared with the utmost determination: if the condemned men were restored, he would go into exile. To this I replied that "that would certainly take place; and what was already being done was no less offensive," and I mentioned a number of instances. However, these arguments did not increase his resolution, only his terror: so that I think he is rather to be kept in the dark about my plan, than invited to adopt the same. So there is not much to be got from him. In obedience to your hint I will turn my thoughts to Caelius.

CCCXCIX (A X, 15)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 12 MAY

WHILST Servius was still with me, Cephalio arrived with your letter of the 10th, which inspired me with a strong hope of a change for the better in regard to the eight cohorts; for those, too, which are stationed in these parts are said to be wavering. On the same day Funisulanus brought me a letter from you, in which the same news was repeated still more positively. I gave him full satisfaction as to his own business, ascribing the full credit to you. Up to this time I have had reason to be discontented with him, for he owes me a large sum of money and is not considered to be well off. Now he says he will pay me: that a man to whom he had lent money was slow in paying; that, if you have in your hands what his debtor has paid, you are to give it to letter-carriers for me. The amount you will learn from Philotimus's man Eros. But let us return to more important matters. The Caelian plan, which is your idea, is coming to fruition. Accordingly, I am distracted as to whether to wait for a favourable wind. What is wanted is a standard: men will flock to it. I quite agree with your advice to set

out openly, and so I think I shall start. Meanwhile, however, I am awaiting a letter from you. Servius's advice doesn't ease matters at all. Every kind of objection is obtruded in every opinion he utters. I never knew anyone more timid except Gaius Marcellus, ^[Note] who is sorry that he was ever consul. What a mean fellow! why, he is even said to have encouraged Antony to prevent my departure, in order, I suppose, to stay himself with greater decency. Antony, however, started for Capua on the 10th. He sent me a message to say that he had been deterred by a feeling of shame from calling on me, because he thought that I was angry with him. So I shall go, and in the way, too, which you think right, unless some hope shall have been meanwhile presented to me of undertaking some still more important part. ^[Note] But that will scarcely be the case so soon. Alienus the praetor, however, thinks that some one of his colleagues would do it, if I don't. Anyone you please, so long as it is some one.

In regard to your sister, I commend you. As to the young Quintus, I am doing all I can. I hope things are better. As to my brother Quintus, let me tell you that he is in considerable anxiety about raising money to pay his debt, but as yet has squeezed nothing out of L. Egnatius. Axius is modest about the twelve sestertia! For he repeatedly put in his letter a request that I would pay Gallius whatever he wanted. Could I have done otherwise, if he had not mentioned it? And, in fact, I often promised: but he wanted that round sum promptly. They should have rather come to my assistance at this time of difficulty, heaven confound them! However, more of this another time. I am very glad that you, and Pilia too, are relieved of your quartan ague. Whilst bread and other stores are being got on board, I intend to make an excursion to my Pompeian villa. Please thank Vettienus for his kindness. If you can find anyone to bring it, send me a letter before I leave the country.

CD (A X, 16)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 14 MAY

I HAD just despatched a letter to you on a variety of subjects, when Dionysius arrived at my house very early in the morning. I would not only have shewn myself placable to him, but would have pardoned him altogether, had he arrived in the frame of mind described by you. For in your letter received at Arpinum you said that he was coming and was prepared to do whatever I wished. For my part, I wished, or rather desired, that he should stay with me: and it was because, on his coming to my Formian villa, he had refused point blank to do so, that I used to write to you somewhat sharply about him. Well, he said very little, but the upshot of his remarks was that I must excuse him, that his private affairs prevented his going with me. I answered shortly: I felt much pained: I quite understood that my position roused his contempt. You will perhaps be surprised, but I assure you that I feel this to be among the heaviest blows which this crisis has inflicted upon me. I hope he may be loyal to you: that is equivalent to wishing you to remain prosperous: he will be so, just as long as you are.

I hope my design will be free of all risk: for, on the one hand, I have kept it dark; and, on the other, I shall not, I think, be very closely watched. May I only have a voyage such as I wish! For all the rest— as far, that is, as they can be provided for by prudence-measures shall be taken. Pray, as long as I am in the country, write and tell me not only anything you know or have heard, but also what you foresee will happen. Cato, who might have held Sicily without any trouble-and, if he had held it, all loyalists would have joined him— sailed from Syracuse on the 23rd of April, as Curio has written to tell me. I only hope, as the phrase is, that Cotta may hold Sardinia; for there is rumour going about. Oh, if that were to be so, what a stigma on Cato! In order to allay suspicion of my leaving the country, or of what I

am thinking of doing, I started for my Pompeian villa on the 12th of May, with a view of staying there, while the necessary preparations for my voyage were being made. On my arrival at my villa people came to see me: "The centurions of the three cohorts stationed at Pompeii"—this is what our friend Ninnius ^[Note] reported to me—"wished to visit me the next day: they were desirous of putting themselves and the town in my hands." I, however, I can tell you, was off from my villa next morning bef6re daybreak, to prevent them having any opportunity of seeing me at all. For what was the good of three cohorts? Or even if there were more, what equipment had they? I thought, indeed, of those exploits of Caelius, ^[Note] which I found mentioned in your letter received as soon as I arrived at my Cuman villa, which I did on the same day: yet at the same time it might have been a trap to catch me. ^[Note] I therefore removed all suspicion. But while I was on my return journey, Hortensius had arrived and had turned out of his road to call on Terentia, and used very courteous expressions about me. However, I believe I shall see him; for he has sent a servant to tell me that he is coming to my house. This is better behaviour than that of my fellow augur Antony, among whose lictors an actress is riding in a sedan. As you are free of your quartan ague, and have not only got rid of your new disease, but also of your cold, be sure you present yourself before me in Greece full of vigour, and meanwhile let me have something by way of a letter.

CDI (A X, 17)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 16 MAY

ON the 14th Hortensius came to call on me after I had written my letter. I only wish the rest of his conduct had

been the same. You could hardly conceive such épanouissement! I mean, I can tell you, to make use of it. ^[Note] Then came Serapion with your letter, before opening which I remarked to him that you had written to me about him before, as you had done. Then, after opening the letter, I told him the rest of your compliment to the last syllable: and, by Hercules, I esteem him to be a good, learned, and honest man. And, what is more, I think of using his ship and taking him with me on my voyage. The inflammation in my eyes frequently recurs, not, indeed, to a very painful extent, but enough to prevent my writing. I am glad that your health is re-established, both from your old complaint and your more recent troubles. I could wish I had Ocella with me. For I think the weather here is going to be slightly calmer. At present the equinox is delaying us, which has been very stormy. After that, if there is a brisk wind, ^[Note] I can only hope that Hortensius may remain in the same mind: since up to this time nothing could exceed his courtesy. You wonder at what I said about a "passport," as though I had insinuated some grave charge or other against you. For you say you "can't make out how it ever came into my mind." Well, since you had mentioned in your letter that you were thinking of leaving the country, and since I had been told that no one could do so without one, I thought, of course, that you had one, and also because you had taken out a passport for the boys. That was the ground of my belief, and, nevertheless, I wish you would write and tell me what you are thinking of doing, and above all what news is now stirring.

16 May.

CDII (A X, 18)

TO ATTICUS (AT ROME) CUMAE, 19 MAY

My Tullia was confined on the 19th of May—a boy, a seven months' child. I have reason to be thankful that she had a good delivery. The child itself is a poor little weakling. An astonishingly dead calm has as yet kept me from starting, and has been a greater impediment than the watch kept upon me. For all that talk of Hortensius was mere persiflage. The truth will turn out to be this: that most dissolute of men has been corrupted by his freedman Salvius. ^[Note] Accordingly, henceforth I shall not write and tell you what I am going to do, but only what I have done. For all the eavesdroppers of Corycus ^[Note] seem to be listening to what I say. Do you, however, I beg, continue to tell me any news there are of Spain, or anything else; but don't expect a letter from me, except when I have arrived at my wished-for destination, or in case I can send anything during my voyage. Even this I write with fear and trembling: so slowly and heavily does everything drag on. The foundation was badly laid, the rest follows suit. I am now making for Formiae: perhaps the Furies will follow me there too. ^[Note] However, to judge from Balbus's conversation with you, my idea of Malta does not find favour. Can you doubt, therefore, that he regards me as an enemy? I have, to be sure, written to Balbus telling him that you had mentioned to me in a letter both his kindly feeling and his suspicion. I thanked him. On the second point I cleared myself with him. Did you

ever know anyone more unlucky? I won't say more, lest I should make you suffer too. I am overpowered with the thought that the time has come when I no longer have the power of acting either with courage or with prudence.