Ad Atticum 1.14
Ad Atticum 1.14
Headnote
Cicero to Atticus, written at Rome on the Ides of February (13 February) 61 BC. The second long Bona Dea letter and the most vivid surviving narrative of a senate day in Cicero’s hand. The contest is over the special bill against Clodius’s sacrilege, which Piso the consul (its sponsor by senatorial decree) is now sabotaging. The letter walks through the day in order: Pompey’s first public meeting, said to have fallen flat (“not pleasing to the wretched, empty to the wicked, not welcome to the rich, not weighty to the good”); the contio in the Circus Flaminius where Piso pushed Pompey into approving the trial procedure under the praetor; the senate session where Pompey replied vaguely about the senate’s authority, and Crassus then rose and made a great speech of praise for Cicero’s consulship — “that he was a senator, a citizen, free, alive, he counted up to me; as often as he saw his wife, his house, his country, so often did he see my service.” Cicero, sitting next to Pompey, registers that Pompey was moved (whether by Crassus’s gallantry or by the obvious popularity of Cicero’s consulship in the house). Cicero himself then took the floor and “showed off” before his new auditor with a performance of his favourite consular set-piece — “the gravity of the order, the concord of the equestrians, the consensus of Italy, the dying remnants of the conspiracy, cheap grain, peace.”
The fifth paragraph is the famous account of the contio at which the bill was withdrawn: Clodius’s gangs holding the bridges, the voting tablets distributed without “As you propose,” Cato vaulting onto the Rostra to upbraid Piso (“a voice full of gravity, full of authority, full at last of safety”), Hortensius and Favonius coming up beside him. The senate was then summoned and voted four hundred to fifteen against the bill in its sabotaged form. Clodius retreated to public meetings of insult, where he attacked Lucullus, Hortensius, Gaius Piso, the consul Messalla; Cicero only “with having ascertained everything,” the running joke of the comperi verb that haunts the corpus through these years. Greek tags, mostly drawn from rhetorical theory, sprinkle the body — Cicero’s stylish bilingualism with the friend who had just lived a decade in Athens; the self-mocking eneperpereusam\=en (“how I showed off”) is the letter’s affectionate signature.