Letters of 44 BC: The Break with Antony

DCCLXXX. To Atticus (at Rome), On board ship, 19 August

Having started on the 6th of August from Leucopetra—for that was to be my port of embarkation—when I had made about 300 furlongs, I was driven back upon that same Leucopetra by a violent south wind. While waiting there for a change of wind—I was staying in the villa of our friend Valerius, where I am quite at home and comfortable-certain men of high rank from Rhegium came thither, having lately returned from Rome, among others a friend of our Brutus, who (as he told me) had left Brutus at Naples. They brought, first, an edict of Brutus and Cassius; secondly, intelligence that there would be a full meeting of the senate on the 1st, and that a despatch had been sent by Brutus and Cassius to all ex-Consuls and ex-praetors asking them to be present. They announced also that there was a great hope of Antony yielding, an arrangement being come to, and our partisans returning to Rome. They added also that I was wanted, and that my absence was being somewhat unfavourably criticised. On hearing these news I without hesitation threw aside my design of leaving the country, which, by heaven! I had never really liked. When, however, I read your letter, I was of course surprised that you had so entirely changed your opinion, but I thought that you must have some good reason for it. However, though you had never advised nor urged my leaving the country, you had at least expressed approval of my doing so, provided that I returned to Rome by the 1st of January. The result of that would have been that I should have been abroad as long as the danger seemed less imminent, but have returned to find everything in a blaze. But this advice, however short-sighted, I have no claim to resent; because in the first place what I did was in accordance with my own opinion; and in the second place, even if it were adopted on your suggestion, for what is an adviser responsible except good faith? It is the following expression of yours at which I cannot sufficiently wonder: "Can you with honour, you who talk of a noble death—can you with honour abandon your country?" Was I abandoning it, or did I seem to you at that time to be abandoning it? Why, you not only did not forbid my doing what I was doing, but even expressed approval. Still severer is what you say afterwards: "I wish you would elaborate for me some précis of the reasons justifying your action." Is it really so, my dear Atticus? Does my action need a defence, and with you of all people, who expressed such strong approval of it? I of course will compose the defence which you require, but addressed to some one of those against whose wish and advice I started. Vet, what need now of a précis? If I had persevered, there would have been such need. "But," say you, "this very fact is an instance of vacillation." No philosopher ever yet—and there has been a great deal written upon the subject-defined a mere change of plan as vacillation. So next you say: "For if the change had been made by our friend Phaedrus, your defence would have been easy. As it is, what answer are we to make?" So then my action was one which I could not justify to Cato, that is, was criminal and disgraceful—is that so? I only wish you had been of that opinion from the first! You would have been my Cato, as you ever are! But your last sentence is the most I might say exasperating: "For our friend Brutus says nothing '-that is to say, does not venture to remonstrate with a man of my age. I can't imagine what else you Can mean by those words, and by heaven that is it! For on the 17th of August, on my arrival at Velia, Brutus heard of it. He was with his ships in the river Hales, three miles north of Velia. He immediately walked over to see me. Good heavens! with what transports of delight at my return, or rather at my abandonment of the journey, did he pour out all that he had repressed before! It made me recall those words of yours, "For our friend Brutus holds his tongue." But what he most regretted was that I had not been in the senate on the 1st of August. He praised Piso to the skies, but remarked that he was delighted at my having avoided two grounds of reproach. One of these I was well aware that I was incurring by this journey—that of despairing of and abandoning the Republic. Many people remonstrated with me upon it with tears in their eyes, and I was unable to console them by promising a quick return. The other was one in regard to which Brutus and his following—and its number was large-were much pleased: I mean that I escaped the reproach of being thought to be going to attend the Olympic games. There could be nothing more unbecoming than this at any period of the Republic, but at this particular crisis it would have been entirely unjustifiable. So I am grateful to the South wind for having saved me from such a scandal. There you have the avowed motives for my turning back. They are indeed sound and weighty ones, but none could be really sounder than what you yourself said in another letter: "Take measures in case of any creditor you may have, that there is enough to pay every man his due. For owing to the feat of war the money market is wonderfully tight." I read that letter when I was in the middle of the strait, with the result that I could think of no way of making such provision, except by being on the spot to support my own credit. But enough of this, the rest when we meet. I got hold of Antony's edict from Brutus and read it, as well as our friends' splendid answer to it. But I do not clearly see the use or object of these edicts: and I am not now, as Brutus thought I ought to do, coming to Rome with a view of entering upon politics. For what can be done? Did anyone back up Piso? Did he come to the house again next day himself? But after all a man of my age ought not to be far from his place of burial, as people say. But, I beseech you, what is this that I hear from Brutus? He said that you had written to say that Pilia was suffering from paralysis. I was much alarmed, although he added that you also said that you hoped she was better. I devoutly trust so! Give her my very kindest remembrances, as also to my dearest Attica.

I write this at sea on my way to my Pompeian villa. 19 August.

DCCLXXXI. To C. Matius (at Rome), Tusculum, end of August

I have not yet been able to make up my mind whether Trebatius—kind man and devoted friend of us both-brought me more pain or pleasure. The fact is that I having reached Tusculum in the evening, early next day he called on me: though he was not fully recovered. I scolded him for not being sufficiently considerate of his weak health: but he said that nothing had been more wearisome to him than waiting to see me. "Nothing fresh happened, has there?" said I. Then he told me of your grievance. But before I answer it I will put before you a few facts. As far back as I can remember I have no older friend than your-self. But after all the length of a friendship is something in which many others share. Not so warmth of affection. I became attached to you the first day I knew you, and formed the opinion that you were attached to me. After that your absence—which was a very prolonged one—my own official career, and the different line we took in life did not allow our inclinations to be cemented by a constant intercourse. Nevertheless, I had proof of your affection for me many years before the civil war, when Caesar was in Gaul. For you secured what you were strongly of opinion was to my advantage and not without advantage to Caesar himself—that the latter should like me, pay me attention, and rate me among his friends. I pass over instances in those times of words, letters, and various communications of the most friendly character passing between us. For a more dangerous crisis followed: and at the beginning of the civil war, when you were on your way to Brundisium to join Caesar, you came to call on me at Formiae. How much that implies in itself, to begin with, especially at such a crisis! And in the next place, do you suppose that I have forgotten your advice, conversation, and kindly interest? And in these I remember that Trebatius took part. Nor, again, have I forgotten the letter you sent me after you had met Caesar in the district, if I remember rightly, of Trebula. Then followed the period in which whether you call it shame or duty or fortune compelled me to go abroad to join Pompey. What service or zeal was wanting on your part, either towards myself when away from town, or my family, who were still there? Whom did all my family regard as more warmly attached either to me or to themselves?

I came to Brundisium : do you suppose that I have forgotten with what speed you flew to me from Tarentum, as soon as you heard of it? Or, of how patiently you sat by my side, talked to me, and strengthened my courage, which had been broken by the dread of the universal ruin? At length our residence at Rome began: could anything be more intimate than we were? In questions of the first importance I consulted you as to my attitude towards Caesar, and in other matters availed myself of your good offices. Setting Caesar aside, whom else but me did you so far distinguish as to visit constantly at home, where you often spent many hours in the most delightful conversation? And it was then too, if you remember, that you instigated me to write these philosophical works. After Caesar's return, was there any object dearer to you than that I should be on the terms of closest friendship with him? And this you had accomplished.

To what end, therefore, is this preamble which has run to greater length than I anticipated? Why, to explain my surprise that you, who were bound to have known all this, should have believed me capable of having done anything incompatible with our friendship. For besides these facts, which are well attested and as clear as the day, I could mention many others of a more secret nature, such as I can hardly express in words. Everything about you gives me pleasure: but above all your surpassing fidelity in friendship, the prudence, trustworthiness and consistency of your character, as well as the charm of your manners, the cultivation of your intellect, and your knowledge of literature.

This being understood, I return to your statement of grievance. That you voted for that law I at first refused to believe. In the next place, if I had believed it, I should never have believed that you did so without some sound reason. Your rank makes it inevitable that whatever you do should be noticed: while the ill-nature of the world causes certain things to be represented in a harsher light than your actions have really warranted. If you never hear such observations I don't know what to say. For my part, whenever I hear them I defend you, as I know that I am always defended by you against my detractors. Now my line of defence is twofold. There are some statements which I meet with a blank denial, as about that very vote of yours. Others I defend on the ground of the loyalty and kindness of your motives, as in regard to the superintendence of the games. But it does not escape a mind so highly cultivated as yours that, if Caesar was a tyrant—as I think he was-two opposite theories are capable of being maintained in regard to your services. One is mine—when I hold that your loyalty and kindness are to be commended for shewing affection to a friend, even after his death. The opposite theory, advanced by some, is that the liberty of our country is to be preferred to the life of a friend. From such discussions as these I only wish that the arguments I have advanced had come to your ears! Two other points, which above everything else redound to you reputation, no one could put oftener and with more satisfaction than I do: that your voice was the strongest both against beginning the civil war, and for moderation in victory. And in this I have never found anyone who did not agree with me. Therefore I am grateful to our friend Trebatius for giving me an excuse for writing this letter. And if you do not believe in it, you will thereby condemn me as wanting in duty and good feeling: than which nothing can be more discreditable to me or more foreign to your own character.

DCCLXXXII. C. Matius to Cicero (at Tusculum), Rome, August

Your letter gave me great pleasure by convincing me that your opinion of me was what I had hoped and wished that it should be. And although I had no doubt about that, yet, as I valued it very highly, I was anxious that it should remain intact. I was, moreover, conscious in my own mind of having done nothing calculated to wound the feelings of any good man. Therefore I was all the less inclined to believe that a man of your many splendid qualities could be induced to adopt any opinion inconsiderately, especially as my good feeling towards you had always been, and still was, heartfelt and uninterrupted. As then I know this to be as I wished it to be, I will now answer the charges, which—as was natural from your unparalleled kindness and our friendship-you have often rebutted in my behalf.

Now I am well acquainted with the allegations made against me since Caesar's death. People blame me for shewing grief at the death of a dear friend, and expressing my indignation that the man whom I loved had been killed. For they say that country should be preferred to friendship, as though they had actually proved that his death has been beneficial to the Republic. Well, I will speak frankly. I confess that I have not attained to that height of philosophy. For in the political controversy it was not Caesar that I followed, but it was a friend whom—though disapproving of what was being done—I yet refused to desert. Nor did I ever approve of a civil war, nor of the motive of the quarrel, which in fact I strove my utmost to have nipped in the bud. Accordingly, when my friend was victorious I was not fascinated by the charm either of promotion or of money-rewards upon which others, though less influential with him than I was, seized with such intemperate avidity. In fact, even my own personal property was curtailed by the law of Caesar, thanks to which most of those who now exult in Caesar's death maintained their position in the state. I was as anxious that conquered citizens should be spared as I was for my own safety. Wishing therefore the preservation of all, could I fail to be indignant that the man by whose means that preservation had been secured had perished? Especially when the very same men had caused both the feeling against him. and the death which befell him. "Well then," say they, "you are assailed for venturing to shew your disapprobation of our deed." What unheard—of tyranny! One party are to boast of a crime, others are not to be allowed even to grieve at it with impunity! Why, even slaves have always been free to fear, to rejoice, and to grieve at their own will rather than at the behest of another-emotions of which, to judge from the frequent remarks of your champions of liberty, they are now endeavouring to deprive us by force. But they are throwing away their labour. I shall never be deterred from duty and humanity by the threats of any danger. For I have convinced myself that an honourable death is never to be shunned, is often even to be sought. But why are they angry with me for wishing them to repent of what they have do e? For I desire Caesar's death to be regretted by all. 'But," say they, "I ought as a citizen to desire the safety of the Republic." If my past life and future hopes do not prove me—without my saying a word—to desire that, I do not expect to convince them by anything I can say. Therefore I ask you with more than usual earnestness to regard facts as more convincing than words; and if you think it good for the world that right should prevail, to believe that I can have nothing in common with criminals. The principles which I maintained as a young man, when I might have had some excuse for going wrong, am I now that my life is drawing to its close entirely to change and with my own lips to give the lie to my whole career? I will not do so! Yet I will not act in a way to cause offence farther than by avowing my grief at the hard fate of one so deeply loved, and a man of such extraordinary distinction. But if I were otherwise disposed I would never deny what I was doing, lest I should get the reputation of being at once unscrupulous in committing crime, and timid and false in disavowing it.

"But," say they, "I superintended the games given by the young Caesar in honour of Caesar's victory." That is a matter of private obligation with no constitutional significance. Yet, after all, a service which I was bound to render to the memory of a dear friend even after his death, I could not refuse to the request of a young man of very great promise and in the highest degree worthy of Caesar.

I have also frequently been to the house of the consul Antonius to pay my respects. Yes, and those who now regard me as unpatriotic you will find going there in crowds to prefer some petition or to pocket some bounty. But what insolence is this that, whereas Caesar never interfered with my being intimate with whom I chose, even with those whom he personally disliked, these men who have torn my friend from me should now endeavour by their captious remarks to prevent my loving whom I choose? But I have no fear either of the regularity of my life not being sufficient to protect me hereafter, or of those very men who hate me for my constancy to Caesar not preferring to have friends like me rather than like themselves. For myself, if I get what I like, I shall spend the remainder of my life in retirement at Rhodes: but if some accident intervenes, though I am at Rome I shall always desire the right to prevail. I am very much obliged to our friend Trebatius, for having shewn me your true-hearted and affectionate feeling towards myself, and for having given me additional reasons for being still more bound to cultivate and respect a man for whom I have always felt a spontaneous affection. Good-bye, and do not cease to love me.

DCCLXXXIII. M. Cicero (the Younger) to Tiro, Athens, August

After I had been anxiously expecting letter-carriers day after day, at length they arrived forty-six days after they left you. Their arrival was most welcome to me: for while I took the greatest possible pleasure in the letter of the kindest and most beloved of fathers, still your most delightful letter put a finishing stroke to my joy. So I no longer repent of having suspended writing for a time, but am rather rejoiced at it; for I have reaped a great reward in your kindness from my pen having been silent. I am therefore exceedingly glad that you have unhesitatingly accepted my excuse. I am sure, dearest Tiro, that the reports about me which reach you answer your best wishes and hopes. I will make them good, and will do my best that this belief in me, which day by day becomes more and more en evidence, shall be doubled. Wherefore you may with confidence and assurance fulfil your promise of being the trumpeter of my reputation. For the errors of my youth have caused me so much remorse and suffering, that not only does my heart shrink from what I did, my very ears abhor the mention of it. And of this anguish and sorrow I know and am assured that you have taken your share. And I don't wonder at it! for while you wished me all success for my sake, you did so also for your own; for I have ever meant you to be my partner in all my good fortunes. Since, therefore, you have suffered sorrow through me, I will now take care that through me your joy shall be doubled. Let me assure you that my very close attachment to Cratippus is that of a son rather than a pupil: for though I enjoy his lectures, I am also specially charmed with his delightful manners. I spend whole days with him, and often part of the night: for I induce him to dine with me as often as possible. This intimacy having been established, he often drops in upon us unexpectedly while we are at dinner, and laying aside the stiff airs of a philosopher joins in our jests with the greatest possible freedom. He is such a man—so delightful, so distinguished—that you should take pains to make his acquaintance at the earliest possible opportunity. I need hardly mention Bruttius, whom I never allow to leave my, side. He is a man of a strict and moral life, as well as being the most delightful company. For in him fun is not divorced from literature and the daily philosophical inquiries which we make in common. I have hired a residence next door to him, and as far as I can with my poor pittance I subsidize his narrow means. Farthermore, I have begun practising declamation in Greek with Cassius; in Latin I like having my practice with Bruttius. My intimate friends and daily company are those whom Cratippus brought with him from Mitylene—good scholars, of whom he has the highest opinion. I also see a great deal of Epicrates, the leading man at Athens, and Leonides, and other men of that sort. So now you know how I am going on.

You remark in your letter on the character of Gorgias. The fact is, I found him very useful in my daily practice of declamation; but I subordinated everything to obeying my father's injunctions, for he had written ordering me to give him up at once. I wouldn't shilly-shally about the business, for fear my making a fuss should cause my father to harbour some suspicion. Moreover, it occurred to me that it would be offensive for me to express an opinion on a decision of my father's. However, your interest and advice are welcome and acceptable. Your apology for lack of time I quite accept; for I know how busy you always are. I air very glad that you have bought an estate, and you have my best wishes for the success of your purchase. Don't be surprised at my congratulations coming in at this point in my letter, for it was at the corresponding point in yours that you told me of your purchase. You are a man of property! You must drop your city manners: you have become a Roman country-gentleman. How clearly I have your dearest face before my eyes at this moment! For I seem to see you buying things for the farm, talking to your bailiff, saving the seeds at dessert in the corner of your cloak. But as to the matter of money, I am as sorry as you that I was not on the spot to help you. But do not doubt, my dear Tiro, of my assisting you in the future, if fortune does but stand by me; especially as I know that this estate has been purchased for our joint advantage. As to my commissions about which you are taking trouble-many thanks! But I beg you to send me a secretary at the earliest opportunity—if possible a Greek; for he will save me a great deal of trouble in copying out notes. Above all, take care of your health, that we may have some literary talk together hereafter. I commend Anteros to you.

DCCLXXXIV. To L. Munatius Plancus (in Gallia Comata), Rome, September

In the first place I have been out of town intending to embark for Greece: and in the next place, having been recalled by the voice of the Republic from the very midst Of my journey, I have never been let alone by Marcus Antonius, whose—I won't call it insolence, for that is a mere everyday fault—but whose brutal tyranny is such that he cannot endure not only any man's voice, but even any man's look to be free. Therefore I am exceedingly anxious-not about my life indeed, for I have nothing left to do for that, whether you regard my age or my achievements or (if that, too, is to the purpose) my glory—but it is for my country that I am uneasy, and first and foremost about the time that we have to wait for your consulship, my dear Plancus, which is so long that one scarcely ventures to hope to be able to keep undergraduate life at Athens. It, however, labours under the disadvantage of being a report sent home by the young man himself rather than by his tutors—an arrangement that would suit many students in all universities. The account of his reformation is therefore perhaps a little too rosy. alive up to that point in the history of the Republic. For what hope can there be in a state in which everything is held down by the arms of the most violent and headstrong of men: in which neither senate nor people has any power of control: in which there are neither laws nor law courts —in fact, no shadow or trace even of a constitution. But as I suppose a complete gazette of public affairs is transmitted to you, there is no reason why I should enter into details. However, the affection which I conceived for you when you were a boy, and have not only maintained but have even increased, seemed to demand that I should admonish and exhort you to devote yourself heart and soul to the service of the Republic. If it survives till your term of office, all will be plain sailing. But that it should so survive demands not only great assiduity and care on your part, but also great good fortune.

But to begin with we shall have you with us, I hope, a considerable time before that day: and in the next place-over and above the consideration which I am bound to have for the interests of the Republic—I also so completely give myself up to supporting your dignity, that I direct all the skill, zeal, devotion, exertion, labour, and attention of which I am capable to the promotion of your high position. It is thus, I am convinced, that I shall most readily do my duty both to the Republic, which I love above everything, and to our friendship, which I think it my most sacred duty to foster.

I am not surprised that our friend Furnius is valued by you as highly as his own kindness and worth deserve. I rejoice that it is so, and I would have you believe that whatever mark of confidence and favour you bestow on him, I regard as having been bestowed by you upon myself.

DCCLXXXV. To L. Munatius Plancus (in Gallia Comata), Rome, after 19 September?

No zeal which our close connexion could command in support of the complimentary vote to you would have been wanting on my part, had I been able to enter the senate with safety or dignity. But neither can anyone who freely expresses his opinion on politics appear there without danger, when there is absolutely no restraint upon the employment of armed men, nor do I think it consistent with my dignity to speak in a place where these armed men hear me more distinctly and from a shorter distance than senators. Accordingly, in private affairs you shall not have to complain of any lack of service or zeal on my part: nor indeed in public affairs either will I ever fail to appear in support of your dignity, if my presence is ever actually necessary, even at the risk of danger to myself. But in matters which can be equally well carried out, even though I am not there, I must ask you to allow me to consider my own safety and dignity.

DCCLXXXVI. To L. Munatius Plancus (in Gallia Comata), Rome, September

I was very glad to see Furnius for his own sake, but all the more glad because in listening to him I seemed to be listening to you. He vividly described your valour in war, the justice of your administration in the province, and the wisdom you displayed in every department. He mentioned besides—what our association and intimacy had not left me ignorant of—the courtesy of your manners, as well also as your very liberal conduct to himself. All these were very pleasant hearing to me: the last roused my gratitude also.

I have had, my dear Plancus, a close bond of friendship with your family, formed a considerable time before you were born, a personal affection for you from your boyhood, and, when you grew up, an intimacy begun from inclination on my part and from deliberate judgment on yours. For these reasons I take extraordinary pains to support your political position, which I am convinced ought to be associated with my own. You have attained to the highest distinctions in every department, virtue shewing the way, and fortune marching by your side. And these you have won though you had many detractors, whom you have baffled by your talents and industry. At present, if you will listen to me—who love you dearly and yield to no one in his claim to be a closer and older friend -you will look for every advancement in the rest of your life from the best possible settlement of the constitution. You know of course—for it could not possibly have escaped you—that there has been a period during which people thought you too much inclined to yield to the circumstances of the time. I should have thought so, too, had I thought that you approved of the things to which you submitted. But as I well knew your real sentiments, I considered that it was only that you saw the limits of your power. Now the case is different. The decision on all points is in your own hands and is unfettered. You are consul-designate: at the prime of life: a first-rate orator. And all this when the state is unusually destitute of men of this sort. In the name of Heaven, throw yourself heart and soul into the measures calculated to bring you reputation and glory. The one path to glory, especially at a time like this, when the Republic has been harassed to death for so many years, is that of honest administration. It was my personal affection that impelled me to write this to you, rather than any idea of your needing admonition and precept. For I know that you imbibed them from the same fountains as myself. Therefore I will put a period to these exhortations. For the present I thought I should only give a hint—rather to shew you my affection than to display my wisdom. Meanwhile I will attend with zeal and minute care to whatever I think will affect your high position.

DCCLXXXVII. To C. Cassius Longinus (near Puteoli), Rome, September

I am much delighted that my expression of opinion and my speech have your approval. If one might speak like that more often, there would be no trouble about recovering freedom and the constitution. But that infatuated and unprincipled fellow-much worse than the man whom you declared to have been put to death for his flagrant iniquity—is seeking an excuse for a massacre, and accuses me of being the instigator of Caesar's assassination, with no other motive than that of inciting the veterans against me. I don't dread that danger, so long as he associates the glory of the deed which you and your fellows wrought with my reputation. Accordingly, we can none of us come to the senate in safety : neither Piso, who was the first to inveigh against him, without anyone to support him; nor I, who did the same a month afterwards; nor Publius Servilius, who followed me closely. For that gladiator is seeking for a chance of using the sword, and thought that he was going to begin with me on the 19th of September, on which day he came primed after studying his speech for many days in the villa of Metellus. But what sort of "study" was possible in brothels and drunken riots? The result was that in everybody's eyes, as I wrote you word before, he seemed to be but vomiting in his usual way, not speaking. Wherefore in reference to your remark that you felt confident that some good might be done by my influence and eloquence, I may say that some little good-considering the enormity of the evil-has been done. For the Roman people fully under-stand that there are three ex-consuls, who, because they have thought honestly on politics and ventured to speak freely, cannot come in safety to the senate. Nor can you expect anything more than that: for your relative is greatly delighted with his new marriage connexion ; and so he no longer cares about the games, and is bursting with envy at the applause given to your brother. Your other brother-in-law has been smoothed down by the new hatch of Caesar's minutes. Still these things are endurable. But the next is intolerable—that there is a man who thinks that his son is to be consul in the year of yourself and Brutus, and for that reason avows his subservience to this bandit. For my friend Lucius Cotta, yielding to some fatal despair, now. comes less frequently to the senate: Lucius Caesar, a most loyal and gallant citizen, is hindered by ill-health: Servius Sulpicius, a man of the greatest influence and the most excellent sentiments, is not in town. As for the rest, the consuls-designate excepted, pardon me if I do not reckon, them consulars. These are the leaders of our public policy. Few enough even if things were all going well—what think you in the present disastrous position? Wherefore our sole hope is in you. And if your motive for not coming to Rome is that you cannot do so safely—there is none in you either. But if you are meditating some stroke worthy of your glory,—I pray that I may live to see it. But if that cannot be, yet at least the Republic will shortly recover its legal rights by' your means. I am not failing to support your friends, nor shall I do so. If they refer to me for anything, my goodwill to you and my-good faith shall be made manifest.

DCCLXXXVIII. To C. Cassius Longlnus (near Puteoli), Rome, between 2 and 9 October

Your friend daily becomes madder. To begin with, he has caused "To the father for his eminent services" to be inscribed on the statue which he has placed on the rostra, so that you are now condemned not only as murderers, but as parricides. But why do I say "you"? Rather I should say "we" are condemned: for that madman asserts that I was the head and front of that most glorious deed of yours. Would that I had been! He would not have been troubling us now. But it is you and your fellows who are responsible for this: and since it is past and done with, I only wish I had some advice to give you. But the fact is, I cannot feel satisfied even of what I myself ought to do. For what is possible against force without having any force oneself? Now the gist of this policy of theirs is to punish the death of Caesar. Accordingly, on the 2nd of October, being introduced to an assembly by Cannutius, Antony got indeed a very sorry reception: still, he did deliver himself of remarks about the saviours of the country which ought only to have been made about traitors. As to me, indeed, he declared outright both that you had acted and that Cannutius was acting in everything on my advice. You may judge of the rest from the fact that they have deprived your legatus of his travelling money. What explanation of that do you suppose that they give? They say, forsooth, that it is being conveyed to a public enemy! What a grievous thing, that we could not endure a master, and yet are slaves to a fellow slave! Yet after all, though my will is better than my hopes, there does remain even now some hope in your valour. But where to get forces? As to the future I would rather you consulted your own feelings, than listened to words of mine.

DCCLXXXIX. To Q. Cornificius (in Africa), Rome, middle of October

Tratorius has explained to me the whole state of the case regarding your governorship and the position of your province. How many intolerable things are being done in all quarters! But considering your high rank, the treatment accorded to you is still less endurable. For because you put up with these things in the loftiness of your spirit and character without excessive irritation, they none the less call for your vengeance, even though they do not sting your heart. But of this at a future time.

I feel sure that a gazette of transactions in the city reaches you. If I had not thought so I would have written an account of them myself, and first and foremost of the attempt made by Octavianus. In regard to this the common people think it a charge trumped up by Antony, as an excuse for making an inroad upon the young man's money. Men of the world, however, and loyalists both believe that it took place and approve of it. In short, I have great hopes of him. There is nothing he may not be expected to do in future for fame and glory's sake. Antonius, however, our whilom intimate friend, feels himself to be the object of such violent dislike, that though he caught the assassins within his own doors, he does not venture to make the fact public. On the 9th of October he set out to meet the four Macedonian legions, which his idea is to win over to his side by money-bounties, to lead them to the city, and station them as fetters for our necks.

There is the state of the Republic for you, if a republic can be said to exist in a camp. And in this matter I often lament your fortune in not being old enough ever to have had a taste of a sound and healthy republic. And up to this time indeed it was at least possible to hope: now even that is snatched from us. For what hope can there be, when Antony ventures to say in a public meeting that Cannutius is "seeking a place for himself with men, for whom as long as he was alive there could be no place in the state "?

For my part I bear these things, and in fact all that can befall a mortal, in such a way as to make me grateful to philosophy, which not only diverts me from anxious thoughts, but also arms me against all assaults of fortune. And you too, I think, should do the same: and believe that to a man who is clear of all wrong-doing nothing is to be reckoned an evil. But you understand this better than I.

I always thought highly of our friend Tratorius, but I have been specially struck by his eminent fidelity, activity, and good sense in your business affairs. Take care of your health: nothing you can do could please me more than that.

DCCXC. M. Cicero (the Younger) to Tiro (at Rome), Athens, October

Though your excuse for suspending your letter-writing is reasonable and sufficient, yet I beg you not to do it oftener. For though I get information about politics from rumours and the regular news, and my father always writes fully to me about his own wishes in regard to me, yet a letter written to me by you on any and every thing, however minute, has always been most delightful to me. Therefore, though there is nothing I miss so much as a letter from you, don't fulfil your obligation to write by sending an excuse rather than by regularity in actual letters. Good-bye.

DCCXCI. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, 25 October

On the 25th I received two letters from you. I will therefore answer the earlier one first. I agree with you: but I would neither lead the van or bring up the rear, and yet be on that side in sympathy. I am sending you my speech. As to whether it is to be kept locked up or published, I leave the decision to you. But when shall we see the day when you shall think that it ought to be published? I cannot see the possibility of the truce which you mention. Better a masterly silence, which I think I shall employ. You say that two legions have arrived at Brundisium: you in Rome get all news first. So please write and tell me whatever you hear. I am anxious for Varro's "Dialogue." I am now all for writing something in the Heracleides style, especially as you like it so much. But I should like to know the sort you want. As to what I said to you before (or "previously"—as you prefer to express it), you have, to confess the honest truth, made me keener for writing. For to your own opinion, with which I was already acquainted, you have added the authority of Peducaeus—a very high one in my eyes, and among the most weighty. I will therefore do my best to prevent your feeling the lack either of industry or accuracy on my part.

Yes, as you suggest in your letter, I am keeping up with Vettienus and Faberius. I don't think Clodius meant any harm, although. But it is all one! As to the maintenance of liberty-surely the most precious thing in the world— I agree with you. So it is Caninius Gallus's turn now, is it? What a rascal he is! That's the only word for him. Oh cautious Marcellus! I am the same-yet not after all the most cautious of men!

I have answered your longer and earlier letter. Now for the shorter and later one—what answer am I to make except that it was a most delightful one? Events in Spain are going very well. If I do but see Balbilius safe and sound, I shall have a support for my old age. As to the estate of Annius your opinion is mine. Visellia shews me great attention. But that's the way of the world. Of Brutus you say that you know nothing: but Servilia says that Marcus Scaptius has arrived, and that he will pay her a secret visit at her house without any parade, and that I shall know everything. Meanwhile, she also tells me that a slave of Bassus has arrived to announce that the legions at Alexandria are in arms; that Bassus is being summoned; Cassius's arrival looked for with eagerness. In short, the Republic seems about to recover its legitimate authority. But no shouting before we are out of the wood! You know what adepts in rascality and how reckless these fellows are.

DCCXCII. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, 26 October

Dolabella is a fine fellow! Although, as I am writing this with the dessert on the table, I am told that he had arrived at Baiae, he nevertheless wrote to me from Formiae—a letter which reached me just as I had left the bath-saying that he had done his best about assigning debtors to me. He lays the blame on Vettienus. Of course he is up to some dodge, like a true business man. But he says that our friend Sestius has undertaken the whole affair. He indeed is an excellent man and very much attached to us. Still, I am at a loss to know what in the world Sestius can do in a business like this which any one of us could not do. But if anything unexpected happens, please let me know. If; on the other hand, the business, as I think, is hopeless, write all the same. It won't disturb me at all. I am here philosophizing—what else could I do? I am composing a brilliant essay "On Duties": and addressing it to my son. For on what subject should a father address a son in preference? After that I shall begin other subjects. In short, this tour shall have something to shew for itself. People expect Varro today or tomorrow. I, however, am hurrying off to Pompeii, not because anything can be more beautiful than this place, but interrupters are less troublesome there.

But do tell me distinctly what was the charge against Myrtilus, for I hear that he has been executed. Is it discovered who suborned him? As I am writing these words I imagine that the speech is being delivered to you. Dear, dear! how nervous I am as to what you think of it! And yet, what does it matter to me? For it is not likely to get abroad unless the constitution has been restored. And as to that I do not venture to say what I hope in a letter.

DCCXCIII. Decimus Brutus to Cicero (at Puteoli), Gallia Cisalpina, 1 November

Decimus Brutus, imperator, consul-designate, sends regards to Marcus Cicero. If I had had any doubt about your friendly feeling towards myself, I should have begged you at great length to defend my political position. But I am, in fact, convinced that you are earnest On my behalf. I went on an expedition against the Alpine tribes, not so much because I aimed at the title of imperator, as from a wish to content my soldiers and to render them efficient for supporting our policy. And this, I think, I have accomplished; for they have had practical proof both of my open-handed disposition and of my courage. I fought with the most warlike tribes in the country: I took numerous strong places, and laid waste a wide stretch of country. I had good grounds for sending my despatch to the senate. Assist us by your senatorial support: in doing so you will to a great degree be serving the interests of the state.

DCCXCIV. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, 2 November

When I know what day I am coming to town I will let you know. I must expect some hindrances, and there is illness among my household. On the evening of the 1st I got a letter from Octavian. He is entering upon a serious undertaking. He has won over to his views all the veterans at Casilinum and Calatia. And no wonder: he gives a bounty of 500 denarii apiece. Clearly, his view is a war with Antony under his leadership. So I perceive that before many days are over we shall be in arms. But whom are we to follow? Consider his name, consider his age! Again, to begin with, he demands a secret interview with me, at Capua of all places! It is really quite childish if he supposes that it can be kept private. I have written to explain to him that it is neither necessary nor practicable. He sent a certain Caecina of Volaterrae to me, an intimate friend of his own, who brought me the news that Antony was on his way towards the city with the legion Alauda, was imposing a money contribution on the municipal towns, and was marching at the head of the legion with colours flying. He wanted my opinion whether he should start for Rome with his army of 3,000 veterans, or should hold Capua, and so intercept Antony's advance, or should join the three Macedonian legions now sailing by the Mare Superum, which he hopes are devoted to himself. They refused to accept a bounty offered them by Antony, as my informant at least says. They even used grossly insulting language to him, and moved off when he attempted to address them. In short, Octavian offers himself as our military leader, and thinks that our right policy is to stand by him. On my part I advised his making for Rome. For I think that he will have not only the city mob, but, if he can impress them with confidence, the loyalists also on his side. Oh, Brutus, where are you? What an opportunity you are losing I For my part I did not foresee this, but I thought that something of the sort would happen. Now, I desire to have your advice. Shall I come to Rome or stay on here? Or am I to fly to Arpinum? There is a sense of security about that place! My opinion is—Rome, lest my absence should be remarked, if people think that a blow has been struck. Unravel this difficulty. I was never in greater perplexity.

DCCXCV. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, November

Two letters on the same day from Octavian! His present view is that I should come to Rome at once: and that he wishes to act through the senate. I told him that a meeting of the senate was impossible before the 1st of January: and I believe it is really so. But he adds also: "And by your advice." In short, he insists: while I "suspend judgment." I don't trust his youth. I am in the dark as to his disposition. I am not willing to do anything without your friend Pansa. I am afraid of Antony succeeding, and I don't like going far from the sea: and at the same time I fear some great coup without my being there. Varro, for his part, doesn't like the youth's plan. I don't agree with him. He has forces on which he can depend. He can count on Decimus Brutus, and is making no secret of his intentions. He is organizing his men in companies at Capua; he is paying them their bounty-money. War seems to be ever coming nearer and nearer. Do answer this letter. I am surprised that my letter-carrier left Rome on the 1st without anything from you.

DCCXCVI. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, 5 November

I received two letters from you on the 5th, one dated on the 1st, the other on the day previous. So first for the earlier one. I am delighted that you like my pamphlet, from which you have picked the plums. They seem all the more brilliant to my eyes for your approval of them. For I was mortally afraid of those little red wax wafers of yours As to Sicca, it is as you say. I could scarcely refrain from the subject you mention. So I will pass over the matter lightly, and without fixing any opprobrium upon Sicca and Septimia, only just enough to let our children's children know, without any Lucilian ambiguity, that Antony had had children by the daughter of Fadius Gallus. And I only wish I may live to see the day when that oration may have such free circulation in Rome as to find its way even into Sicca's house. "But we must have a return to the state of things under the triumvirs!" Hang me, if that isn't a good joke! However, please read it to Sextus Peducaeus, and write and tell me his opinion of it. Better his one than ten thousand in my eyes. Be on your guard against the appearance of Calenus and Calvena on the scene. You fear that I shall think you long-winded. who less so? As Aristophanes thought of the iambics of Archilochus—the longest letter from you ever seems the best. As to your "admonishing me "—why, even if you reprimanded me, I should bear it not merely with patience, but with real pleasure, for in your reprimand there were both wisdom and kindly purpose. Therefore I shall cheerfully correct faults pointed out by you. I will write "by the same right as you did the property of Rubrius," instead of "the property of Scipio": and I will soften down my excessive praise of Dolabella. Yet, after all, there seems a very neat piece of irony in saying "that he had fought three battles against his fellow citizens." Again, I prefer your suggestion: "It is the most inequitable thing in the world that this man should be living" to "What could be more inequitable?" I am not jealous of your admiring Varro's Peplographia. But I haven't yet got out of him his "Essay in the style of Heracleides." You urge me to write. It is very friendly of you, but the fact is I do nothing else. I am very sorry to hear of your cold. Pray attend to it with all your accustomed care. I am very glad my "Oh Titus" does you good. The "men of Anagnia" are Mustela, captain of his ruffians, and Laco who is a notorious toper. The book for which you ask me I will polish up and send you.

Now for your later letter. The de Officiis—as far as Panaetius goes—I have completed in two books. His treatise is in three. But at the beginning he had defined the cases in which duty has to be determined to be three: one when we deliberate as to whether a thing is right or wrong; another whether it is expedient or inexpedient; and a third when there seems to be a contest between the right and the expedient; on what principle we are to decide-as, for instance, in the case of Regulus, it was right to return, expedient to stay. Well, having begun by defining these three categories, he discussed the first two in brilliant style; on the third he promised an essay in due course, but never wrote it. That topic was taken up by Posidonius. I, however, both sent for the latter's book, and also wrote to Athenodorus Calvus to send me an analysis of it. I am now waiting for this, and I should be obliged if you would give him a reminder and ask him to send it as soon as possible. In that treatise there are remarks upon "relative duty." As to your question about the title, I have no doubt about officium representing kaqh=kon—unless you have something else to suggest—but the fuller title is de Officiis. Finally, I address it to my son. It seemed to me to be not inappropriate.

About Myrtilus you make all clear. Oh, what a vivid picture you always give of that set! Does he really try to implicate Decimus Brutus? Heaven confound them! I have not gone into hiding at Pompeii, as I told you I should do. In the first place owing to the weather, which has been most abominable; and in the second because I get a letter from Octavian every day, begging me to undertake the business, to come to Capua, once more to save the Republic, and in any case to go at once to Rome: Ashamed to shrink and yet afraid to take. After all, his action has been extremely vigorous, and still is so. He will come to Rome with a large body of men, but he is very green. He thinks he can have a meeting of the senate at once. Who will come to it? Who, if he does come, will venture to oppose Antony in the present undecided state of things? On the 1st of January he will perhaps be a protection to them, or before that time a pitched battle will perhaps be fought. The municipal towns shew astonishing enthusiasm for the boy. For instance, on his way into Samnium he came to Cales and stopped at Teanum. There was a wonderful procession to meet him, and loud expressions of encouragement. Would you have thought that? It makes me resolve to go to Rome earlier than I had intended. As soon as I have made up my mind, I will write.

Though I have not yet read the terms of agreement—for Eros has not yet arrived-yet I would have you settle the business on the 12th. I shall be able to send letters to Catina, Tauromenium, and Syracuse with greater ease, if Valerius the interpreter will send me the names of the influential people. For such men vary from time to time, and our special friends are mostly dead. However, I have written some circular letters for Valerius to use if he chooses, or he must send me names. About the holidays for Lepidus's inauguration, Balbus tells me that they will extend to the 30th. I shall look anxiously for a letter from you, and I think I shall learn about that little affair of Torquatus. I am forwarding you a letter from Quintus, to shew you how strongly attached he is to the youth, whom it vexes him that you do not love enough. As Attica is inclined to be merry—the best sign in children-give her a kiss for me.

DCCXCVII. To Atticus (at Rome), Puteoli, 6 November

I send you a copy of a letter from Oppius, because of its great kindness. As to Ocella, while you are dallying about and never writing me a line I have taken the law into my own hands. So I think I shall be at Rome on the 12th. It seems to me to be better to be there for nothing, though it may not be absolutely necessary, than not to be there if it is. And at the same time I am afraid of being cut off from a return. For Antony may be already on his way thither, for there are various rumours afloat, and many of them which I only wish were true. There is, however, nothing certain But for my part, whatever the truth may be, I would rather be with you than be in suspense both for you and myself, owing to my absence from you. But what am I to say to you? Cheer up! As to Varro's Heracleidean work—it is really rather comic! I was never so tickled with anything. But this and other things when we meet.

DCCXCVIII. To Atticus (at Rome), Sinuessa, 8 November

On the 7th I arrived at my lodge at Sinuessa. On the same day it was the common talk that Antony was going to halt at Casilinum. So I changed my plan: for I had resolved to go straight along the Appian road to home. He would have easily caught me up; for they say he travels with Caesarian rapidity. I therefore turned off at Minturnae by the road to Arpinum. I made up my mind to stay on the 9th at Aquinum or in Arcanum. Now then, my dear Atticus, give your whole mind to this anxious consideration: for it is a very grave business. There are three alternatives: am I to remain at Arpinum, or to remove nearer town, or to come to Rome? Which ever you think right, I will do. But answer at once: I am waiting eagerly for a letter from you.

Morning, 8 November, at Sinuessa.

DCCXCIX. To Atticus (at Rome), Aquinum, 10 November

What a wonderful coincidence! On the 8th, having got up before daybreak to quit my lodge at Sinuessa, and having just before dawn reached the Tiretian bridge at Minturnae, where the road to Arpinum branches off, there met me a letter-carrier, who found me On long, long voyage bent. I at once exclaimed, "Here! anything from Atticus?" I wasn't able at first to read it: for I had sent away the torches and there wasn't sufficient daylight. As soon, however, as it grew light-having already written a letter to you—I began reading the earlier of your two. It certainly is the most charming letter in the world. May I perish if I do not write and exactly what I think: I never read anything kinder. So I will come when you call me, only provided that you support me. At first, however, I thought nothing could be more at cross purposes than that you should send me such an answer to the letter in which I asked for your advice. Then there is your second letter, in which you advise me to go By windy Mimas towards the Psyrian isle, that is, leaving the Appian Way à gauche. Accordingly, I stay this day at Aquinum. It was a somewhat weary journey and a bad road. I despatch this letter next day, as I am leaving Aquinum.

DCCC. To Atticus (at Rome), Arpinum, 10 November

The letter of Eros compelled me very much against my will to let go. Tiro will tell you about the affair. Pray consider what ought to be done. And also please say whether it is possible for me to come nearer town—for I should prefer being at Tusculum or in some suburban residence—or whether I must remove to a still greater distance. Write frequently, for there will be somebody to take a letter every day. You ask my advice besides as to what I think you ought to do. It is difficult to say at this distance. However, if the two are equally matched-stay where you are. Otherwise, the mischief will spread, and that will even reach us. Then we must put our heads together.

DCCCI. To Atticus (at Rome), Arpinum, 11 November

I am eagerly waiting for your advice. I am afraid of being absent when it may be more honourable to be present: yet I dare not come without proper precautions. About Antony's march I am now told something different from what I wrote to you. Please therefore unravel the whole mystery and let me have trustworthy intelligence. As to the rest, what am I to say to you? I am very keen in the study of history—for your suggestion inspires me beyond belief. But it can neither be begun nor finished without your aid. When we meet, therefore, we will hold conference on that subject at any rate. For the present, I should be glad if you would write me word in what consulship Gaius Fannius, son of Marcus, was tribune. I think I have heard that it was in the censorship of P. Africanus and L. Mummius. So I want to know if it was so. Pray send me news of every political development——entirely trustworthy and definite.

From Arpinum, 11 November.

DCCCII. To Atticus (at Rome), Arpinum, November

I have absolutely nothing to write about. For when I was at Puteoli there was always something new about Octavian, much also that was false about Antony. However, in regard to what you have said in your letters—for I received three from you on the 11th—I quite agree with you that, if Octavian gets much power, the acta of the tyrant will be confirmed much more decisively than they were in the temple of Tellus, and that this will be against the interests of Brutus. Yes, but if he is beaten, you perceive that Antony becomes intolerable: so that you can't tell which to prefer.

What a rascal that letter-carrier of Sestius is! He said he would be at Rome on the day after leaving Puteoli. You advise me to move cautiously. Yes, I agree with you; though I had once other ideas. I am not influenced by Philippus or Marcellus. For their position is different; and if it isn't, it is nevertheless thought so. But though that young man has plenty of spirit, he lacks prestige. Nevertheless, consider whether I can be safely in my house at Tusculum, and whether it would be better for me to be there. I should prefer it: for then I shall be up to date in my information. Or had I better stay here when Antony arrives?

But to turn to another subject—I am quite satisfied that what the Greeks call kaqh=kon (duty) we call officium. Now, why should you doubt of this being also applicable to the language of public life? Don't we speak of the officium of consuls, of senate, or of an imperator? It is eminently applicable: if not, suggest some other word.

I am very sorry to hear your news about the son of Nepos. I am much disturbed and sincerely sorry. I did not know that he had a son at all. I have lost Caninius —a man who, as far as I am concerned, was the reverse of ungrateful. There is no occasion for you to whip up Athenodorus: he has sent me a very good précis. Pray use every possible means to get rid of your cold. The great-grandson of your grandfather writes to the grandson of my father, that after the Nones, in which I made my, famous coup, he intends to unfold the story of the temple of Ops, and that too in the face of the whole people. You will look out, therefore, and write me word. I am anxious to hear the criticism of Sextus.

DCCCIII. To Tiro (at Rome), Arpinum, November

Though I sent Harpalus this morning, yet since I had a man to whom I could safely intrust a letter, in spite of there being nothing new to say, I determined to write repeatedly to you on the same subjects: not because I did not feel confidence in your assiduity, but because the gravity of the business leaves me no rest. The top and tail (or, as the Greek proverb has it, the prow and stern) of my motive in sending you from my side was that you might put my financial affairs straight. Let Ofilius and Aurelius in any case be paid. If you can't get the whole sum out of Flamma, get a part of it: above all, see that the installment (from Dolabella) is duly paid on the 1st of January. Settle about the assignment of debts: see to the ready-money payments. So much for my private concerns. On public affairs send me all trustworthy intelligence: what Octavian, what Antony is doing; what the general opinion is; what you think is going to happen. I can scarcely prevent myself hurrying to Rome. But, hush! I am waiting anxiously for a letter from you. Yes, Balbus was at Arpinum on the day you were told, and the next day came Hirtius. Both I think were bound for the waters. But it is all one to me! Take care that Dolabella's agents are reminded. Dun Papia also. Good-bye.

DCCCIV. To Atticus (at Rome), Arpinum, between 11 November and 9 December

Don't put it down to idleness that I do not write with my own hand—and yet, by heaven, do put it down to idleness; for I have no other excuse to give: and, after all, I think I recognize the hand of Alexis in your letters. But to come to business. If Dolabella had not treated me in the most dishonourable manner, I should perhaps have considered whether to be somewhat easy with him or to press for my strict rights. As it is, however, I even rejoice that an opportunity has been presented me of making both him and everybody else perceive that I have become alienated from him. I will avow it openly, and shew indeed that it is not only for my own sake, but for that of the Republic also, that I detest him: because, after having undertaken under my advice to support it, he has not only deserted it for a money bribe, but has also, as far as in him lay, contributed to its ruin. Well, you ask what proceedings I wish to be taken. As soon as the day comes, I should like them to be of such a nature as to make it natural for me to be at Rome. But in regard to that, as in regard to everything else, I will yield to your opinion. On the main question, however, I wish the matter pressed with all vigour and severity. Though it does not look well to call upon sureties for payment, yet I would have you consider how far such a step is justifiable. For it is open to me, with a view to his sureties being eventually called upon, to bring his agents into the case. I am sure the latter will not defend the suit. Though, if they do, I am aware that the sureties are thereby relieved from obligation. But I think that it would be a stigma on him not to free his agents from a debt for which he gave security; and that my character requires me to enforce my right without inflicting signal disgrace upon him. Pray write and tell me what you think of this. I have no doubt that you will conduct the whole case with all proper mildness.

I return to public affairs. I have received-heaven knows—many a prudent word from you under the head of politics, but never anything wiser than your last letter: "Though that youth is powerful and has given Antony a fine check: yet, after all, we must wait to see the end." Why, what a speech! It has been sent to me. He qualifies his oath by the words: "So may I attain to the honours of my father !" and at the same time he held out his right hand in the direction of his statue. Nec servatoribus istis! But, as you say in your letter, the most certain source of danger I see to be the tribuneship of this Caesar of ours. This is what I spoke about to Oppius. When he urged me to open my arms to the young man, the whole cause, and the levy of veterans, I replied that I could by no means do so unless I was completely satisfied that he would be not only not hostile to the tyrannicides, but actually their friend. When he remarked that it would be so, I said, "What is our hurry then? For Octavian does not require my services till the 1st of January: whereas we meanwhile shall learn his disposition before the 13th of December in the case of Casca." He cordially assented. Wherefore, so far so good. For the rest you shall have a letter-carrier every day, and, as I think, you will have something to write to me every day. I inclose a copy of Lepta's letter, from which I gather that that braggart captain has lost his footing. But you will judge when you read it.

P.S.—When I had already sealed this letter I got one from you and Sextus. Nothing could be more delightful and loving than Sextus's letter. For yours was only a short note. Your previous one was fuller of matter. Your advice is as prudent as it is friendly—that I should remain in this neighbourhood by preference, until I hear how the present movements end. But for myself, my dear Atticus, it isn't the Republic that at this moment gives me great anxiety-not because there is anything dearer than it in my eyes or ought to be so, but Hippocrates himself forbids medical treatment in desperate cases. So good-bye to all that! It is my personal property that affects me. Property, do I say? Nay, rather my personal reputation. For great as my balances are, I have not yet realized enough even to pay Terentia. Terentia, do I say? You know that we some time ago settled to pay twenty-five sestertia for the debt to Montanus. My son, from a very keen sense of honour, asked us to pay this out of his allowance: and very liberal too it was of him, as you also thought. I promised him, and told Eros to earmark it. Not only did he not do so; but Aurelius was forced to raise a fresh loan at a most oppressive rate of interest. For as to the debt to Terentia, Tiro wrote me word that you said that there would be cash from Dolabella. I believe that he misunderstood you—if ever a man did misunderstand—or rather that he did not understand anything about it. For you wrote and told me the answer made by Cocceius, and so did Eros in nearly the same words.

We must come therefore to Rome—however hot the conflagration. For personal insolvency is more discreditable than public disaster. Accordingly, on the other subjects, on which you wrote to me in a most charming style, I was too completely upset to be able to reply in my usual way. Give your mind to enabling me to extricate myself from the anxiety in which I now am. By what measures I am to do so, some ideas do occur to my mind, but I can settle nothing for certain until I have seen you. Why should I be less safe at Rome than Marcellus? But that is not now the question; nor is that the thing about which I am chiefly anxious. You see what is occupying my thoughts. I am with you directly therefore.

DCCCV. L. Munatius Plancus to Cicero (at Rome), Gallia Comata

(November) I was very much pleased with your letters, which I note as having been written in consequence of what Furnius said to you. The excuse for not having written before which I have to offer is that I was told that you had left the country; nor did I learn of your return much before your own letter told me of it. I say this, because I do not think that I can omit any attention to you, however insignificant, without the very gravest breach of duty. For being careful to pay such attentions I have innumerable reasons, whether I look to the close ties between our fathers, or my reverence for you which began with my childhood, or your mutual affection for me. Wherefore, my dear Cicero; as far as our respective ages permit, convince yourself that you are the one man whose society has enabled me to maintain the purity of life of which my father gave me an example. Therefore all the counsels you give are, in my eyes, inspired not more by wisdom—though in that they are supreme-than by loyal friendship, which I gauge by my own heart. Supposing me then to be otherwise minded, your reprimand at any rate would have been sufficient to stop me: or supposing me to be hesitating, your exhortation would have sufficed to force me to follow the course which you thought to be the most honourable. As it is, however, what is there to draw me in a different direction? Whatever advantages I possess, whether bestowed upon me by the kindness of fortune or acquired by my own labour, though your affection induces you to value them with partial kindness, are yet so great in the judgment even of my bitterest opponent, that they lack nothing but the good opinion of the world. Wherefore, if you were ever sure of anything, be sure of this—whatever effort my bodily strength, whatever provision my mental powers, whatever impression my personal influence, are capable of making—all these shall ever be at the service of the Republic. Your sentiments are not unknown to me: and if I had the opportunity—as I wish with all my heart I had—of seeing you face to face, I should never have dissented from your policy; nor even as it is will I allow any act of mine to deserve your just rebuke. I am anxiously awaiting news from every quarter, to learn what goes on in Cisalpine Gaul, or in the city, when January comes. Meanwhile my greatest anxiety and concern here are lest, instigated by the malpractices of others, these tribes should regard our difficulty as their opportunity. But if my success equals my deserts, I shall at any rate satisfy the expectations both of yourself, which is my chief ambition, and of all loyalists.

DCCCVI. To Decimus Brutus (in Cisalpine Gaul), Rome, December

Marcus Cicero to Decimus Brutus, imperator, consul-designate. At the time that our common friend Lupus reached Rome, and during his few days' residence there, I was in the part of the country in which I thought I should be safest. That was the reason of Lupus returning to you without a letter from me, though he had nevertheless seen to yours being conveyed to me. I arrived at Rome, however, on the 9th of December, and my first object was an immediate visit to Pansa. His report of you was everything I could desire. Wherefore you require no encouragement, since in the execution of that great deed-surely the greatest known to history-you required none. Yet I think I ought briefly to point out that the Roman people looks entirely to you, and places on you its whole hope of eventually recovering its liberty. If you—as I am sure is the case-remember day and night how great a deed you have done, you certainly will not forget what great ones remain for you to do. For if the man now gets hold of your province—a man with whom I was always on friendly terms till I found that he was not only openly at war with the Republic, but glad to be so—I can see no hope of safety left. Wherefore I join my prayers to those of the people and senate of Rome, beseeching you to free the Republic from a tyrannical despotism, in order that you may end as you began. This is your task, this the part you have to play. It is from you that the state or rather all nations of the world-not only expect this, but even demand it. Since, however, as I said above, you do not need encouragement, I will not waste many words upon it. I will do no more than promise you—as in duty bound—all my services, zeal, care, and thought, which will henceforth be devoted to enhancing your fame and glory. Therefore pray convince yourself of this: not only for the sake of the Republic, which is dearer to me than life itself, but also because I am devoted to you personally and desire the farther improvement of your political position, I will nowhere fail to support your loyal policy, your greatness, or your glory.

DCCCVII. To L. Munatius Plancus (in Transalpine Gaul), Rome, December

I have received a letter from you in duplicate, which in itself shews me how careful you are: for I understood that you were anxious that a letter which I most ardently desired should reach my hands. From this letter I received a double satisfaction, such that it is difficult for me to decide by any comparison, whether to regard your affection for me or your loyalty to the Republic as the more valuable. As a general truth affection for one's country is, in my judgment at least, the greatest thing of all; but personal love and sympathy find certainly a softer place in our heart. Therefore your recalling the friendship of our fathers and the affection which you have bestowed on me from your childhood, and all the other circumstances accompanying that feeling, gave me the keenest pleasure. Again, the revelation of the sentiments which you entertain towards the Republic and intend to maintain was most delightful to me, and my joy was all the greater because it came in addition to what you had said before. Accordingly, my dear Plancus, I do not merely exhort you—I go so far as actually to entreat you—as I did in the letter to which you have made such an exceedingly kind answer—to throw yourself with all your soul and with every impulse of your heart into the cause of the Republic. There is nothing that can bring you higher reward or greater glory, nor is there anything that a human being can do more splendid or brilliant than to deserve well of the Republic. I say this because as yet—for your consummate kindness and wisdom permit me to speak my sentiments with candour—you seem to have accomplished the most splendid achievements with the support of fortune; and though you could not have done so without personal merit, yet to a great extent those achievements are commonly put down to fortune and the circumstances of the time. But in a crisis of such supreme difficulty as the present, whatever help you give to the Republic will be wholly and peculiarly your own. You could scarcely believe how all citizens, except the rebel party, detest Antony. High hopes are placed on you and your army-great expectations. In heaven's name, do not let slip the opportunity for gaining such popularity and glory! I counsel you as a father might a son: I am as eager for your honour as for my own: I exhort you with the fervour inspired by my country's cause and the knowledge of your devoted friendship.

DCCCVIII. To Decimus Brutus (in Cisalpine Gaul), Rome, 19 December

Lupus having brought both Libo and your cousin Servius to see me at my town house, I think that you will have learnt from Marcus Seius, who was present at our conversation, what opinion I expressed. The rest you will be able to learn from Graeceius, though he did stay long behind Seius. But the head and front of it all is that I wish you most carefully to notice and to remember that you must not wait to be authorized by the senate in preserving the safety of the Roman people, for the senate is not yet free. If you do so, in the first place you condemn your own action, for you freed the Republic without any public authority—which makes it still more glorious-and, in the second place, you decide that this young man, or rather this boy, Caesar has acted without justification in having assumed such a grave public responsibility on his own initiative. Lastly, you convict of madness those who are indeed rustics, but yet are most gallant soldiers and loyal citizens —in the first place veterans who have served with you of old, and in the next place the Martian and the fourth legions, which have adjudged their own consul to be a public enemy and have transferred their services to the support of the safety of the Republic. The wishes of the senate must be regarded as its authorization, since that authorization is prevented by fear. Lastly, you have now twice espoused this cause: first on the Ides of March, and again recently by collecting a new army and new forces. Wherefore you ought to be prepared for everything, and inspired with the resolution not to decline doing anything without instructions, but to do what will secure universal praise and the greatest admiration.

DCCCIX. To Decimus Brutus (at Mutina), Rome, 20 December

Our friend Lupus, having reached Rome on the sixth day from Mutina, came to call on me next morning and delivered your message to me in the most explicit terms and gave me your letter. When you commend the defence of your political position to me, I regard you as at the same time commending to me my own, which, by heaven, I do not regard as dearer to me than yours. Wherefore you will be doing me the greatest favour, if you will regard it as a settled thing that no counsel or zeal on my part will ever be wanting in the promotion of your reputation. The tribunes of the plebs having given notice of a meeting of the senate for the 20th of December, and designing to make a proposal for the protection of the consuls-designate, though I had resolved not to attend the senate before the 1st of January, yet as your edict also was put up on that same day, I thought that it would be shocking either that a meeting of the senate should be held without any mention being made of your brilliant services to the Republic—which would have been the case had I been absent—or that, if anything complimentary to you were said, I should not be there to support it. Accordingly, I went to the senate early, and when that was observed there was a very full house. The motion I made in regard to you in the senate, and the speech I made in a very crowded public meeting, I should prefer your learning from the letters of others. Pray make up your mind that I will ever undertake and support with the greatest zeal every measure tending to enhance your political position, splendid as it already is in itself. I know that I shall have many companions in that policy, yet I shall aim at taking the lead in it.

DCCCX. To Quintus Cornificius (in Africa), Rome, 20-31 December

Here at Rome we are waging war with the most abandoned, gladiator in the world, our colleague Antony, but not on equal terms, for it is words against arms. Nay, he even goes so far as to make speeches against you: but he won't do that with impunity, for he will be made to feel what sort of men he has attacked. For myself, I imagine that all public occurences are detailed to you in the letters of others: what you should learn from me is the future, as to which the conjecture is not difficult. It is a scene of universal depression: the loyalists have no leader, and our tyrannicides are in remote regions. Pansa both entertains excellent sentiments and speaks with courage. Our friend Hirtius is somewhat slow in recovering his health. What will happen I do not know at all: my one hope, however, is that the Roman people will at last shew itself worthy of its ancestors. I at least will stand by the Republic, and whatever happens—as long as I have nothing for which to blamee myself—I will bear with a brave heart. This at least I will do to the best of my ability: I will support your reputation and political position. On the 20th of December a very full meeting of the senate supported my motion, which among other matters of great importance confirmed the retention of the provinces by the actual holders, and prohibited their being handed over to any successors, except those nominated by a decree of the senate. This motion was made by me in the interests of the Republic, but also, I assure you, with the primary object of sustaining your position. Therefore I beg you for the sake of our affection, I exhort you in the name of the Republic, not to suffer anyone to exercise any jurisdiction in your province, and to act in all respects with an eye to your official position, which is paramount to everything. I will be frank with you, as our friendship demands. If you had obeyed my letter in the case of Sempronius, you would have received the loudest praise from everybody. But that is past and is not very important: but that you should keep your province in its obedience to the Republic is a matter of great gravity. I would have written more had not your letter-carriers been in a hurry. So please make my excuses to our friend Chaerippus.

DCCCXI. Quintus Cicero to Tiro, Time and place uncertain

I have castigated you, at least with the silent reproach of my thoughts; because this is the second packet that has arrived without a letter from you. You cannot escape the penalty for this crime by your own advocacy: you will have to call Marcus to your aid, and don't be too sure that even he, though he should compose a speech after long study and a great expenditure of midnight oil, would be able to establish your innocence. In plain terms, I beg you to do as I remember my mother used to do. It was her custom to put a seal on wine-jars even when empty to prevent any being labelled empty that had been surreptitiously drained. In the same way I beg you, even if you have nothing to write about, to write all the same, lest you be thought to have sought a cover for idleness: for I always find the news in your letters trustworthy and welcome. Love me, and goodbye.

DCCCXII. Quintus Cicero to Tiro (at Rome), From the country, late in December

Your letter contained a remarkable castigation of my idleness. For what my brother had written in more reserved terms—no doubt from modesty and haste-you have written to me without mincing matters and in accordance with the facts. This is specially the case in regard to the consuls-designate, whom I know thoroughly to be compact of vice and the most womanish weakness. If they do not quit the helm, there is the greatest danger of universal shipwreck. You could scarcely believe what I know of those men having done in the summer camp in face of the Gallic laager. And that ruffian Antony, unless some firm step is taken, will win them over by the infection of his vices. We must make a stand by aid of the tribunes or by an understanding between unofficial persons. For as to those two fellows—they are scarcely fit, the one to have charge of Caesena, the other of the vaults of Cossutius's wine-shops. You, as I have said, are the apple of my eye. I shall be with you all on the 30th; and as for yourself, if I meet you as I come in the forum itself, I shall cover you with kisses. Love me, and good-bye.