Letter · July 59 BC · Romae

Ad Atticum 2.19

Ad Atticum 2.19

Headnote

Cicero to Atticus, mid-July 59 BC, from Rome. The letter is the great document of the moment when the triumvirate’s standing collapsed in the public mood. §1 returns again to Statius (the freedman of Quintus, lately manumitted, which Cicero cannot stop grieving over) and to Clodius’s threats, which Cicero still claims he can either endure or escape. The Greek of §1 is Cicero’s self-judgment: “perhaps I am blind and stare too much at the seemly.”

§2 is the celebrated theatre passage. At the Apollinarian games of early July the tragedian Diphilus seized the lines of his role to taunt Pompey to his face: “by our misery you are great,” “a time will come when you will groan heavily for that virtue of yours,” the whole theatre roaring along. Caesar entered to dead silence; young Curio entered after him to ovations of the kind that used to greet Pompey when the commonwealth was safe. Pompey writes furious letters from Capua. The hostility extends to the equites who applauded Curio, and the triumvirs are threatening to repeal the Roscian law (reserved seats for knights at the games, 67 BC) and even the grain law. The sense of §2 is that the Roman political world is held now “more by hatred than by force,” and that “the populares have taught even modest men to hiss.”

§4 returns to private peril. Clodius threatens; Cicero counts his exercitus consularis, the army of every good man who saved the state in 63, as still firm; Pompey assures him that not a word will be said against him — which Cicero takes as Pompey deceiving himself, not deceiving Cicero. On Cosconius’s death Cicero has been invited to fill his vacancy in the agrarian commission of twenty; he refuses, since to step into a dead triumvir’s place would brand him in front of the world. Caesar’s offer of a Gallic legateship reappears as the more honourable way out. §5 closes with the cipher arrangement: in future delicate letters Cicero will sign as Laelius, Atticus as Furius, the rest in riddles. Bibulus’s edicts — the consul of 59 issuing his denunciations against the triumvirs from his own house, the year-long retort that gave the year its nickname “the consulship of Julius and Caesar” — are burning Pompey’s heart out. Note: section 3, present in some editions, is here absent (as in Perseus); the numbering jumps from 2 to 4.

Many things weigh on me — both from the great upheaval of the commonwealth and from the dangers held over me, and they are six hundred. But nothing is more troublesome to me than that Statius has been manumitted; that no respect should be paid even to my command — but command is too much; not even to my displeasure! And I do not know what to do; the matter is not as great as the talk about it. Yet I cannot even be angry with those whom I love so much; I only grieve, and grieve marvellously. The rest is in great matters. The threats and contentions of Clodius which are held out to me touch me only moderately; for I think I can either undergo them with the highest dignity, or decline them with no trouble. You will perhaps say: enough of dignity, as of the oak; if you love me, look to safety. Wretched me! why are you not here? Nothing surely would escape you. I am perhaps blind and stare too much at the seemly.
multa me sollicitant et ex rei publicae tanto motu et ex iis periculis quae mihi ipsi intenduntur et sescenta sunt; sed mihi nihil est molestius quam Statium manu missum; nec meum imperium, ac mátto imperium, nón simultatém meam reverteri saltem! nec quid faciam scio neque tantum est in re quantus est sermo. ego autem ne irasci possum quidem iis quos valde amo; tantum doleo ac mirifice quidem. † cetera in magnis rebus†. minae Clodi contentionesque quae mihi proponuntur modice me tangunt; etenim vel subire eas videor mihi summa cum dignitate vel declinare nulla cum molestia posse. dices fortasse: dignitatis ἅλισ tamquam δρυόσ, saluti, si me amas, consule. me miserum! cur non ades? nihil profecto te praeteriret. ego fortasse τυφλώττω et nimium τῷ.
Be assured: never has anything been so disreputable, so disgraceful, so equally offensive to all kinds, orders, ages as the present condition — more so, by Hercules, than I should have wished, let alone than I supposed it would be. These “populares” have now even taught modest men to hiss. Bibulus is in heaven — I do not know on what grounds, but he is praised as if “a single man by his delaying restored our state for us.” Pompeius, my beloved — which is the deepest grief to me — has crushed himself. They hold no man by goodwill; I fear they may have to use fear. I myself neither fight against their cause for our friendship’s sake nor approve it, lest I disapprove all that I have done before; I take a middle path. The people’s feeling has been seen most plainly at the theatre and the games. For at the gladiators master and supporters alike were torn to pieces with hisses; at the Apollinarian games the tragedian Diphilus inveighed insolently against our Pompeius: “By our misery you are great” he was made to say a thousand times; “A time will come when you will groan heavily for that virtue of yours” he said amid the shouting of the whole theatre, and the rest besides. For these verses are of such a kind as to seem to have been written for the moment by an enemy of Pompeius: “If neither laws nor morals can compel,” and the rest, were said with great roar and clamour. When Caesar entered, his applause was dead; young Curio followed him in. Curio was applauded as Pompeius used to be applauded when the commonwealth was safe. Caesar took it heavily. A letter, it was said, was flying to Pompey at Capua. They were enemies of the knights who had stood up to applaud Curio, hostile to all; they threatened the Roscian law, even the grain law. The whole thing was very disturbed. For my part I should have preferred that what they had taken up should be passed over in silence; but I fear that may not be possible. Men do not endure what nevertheless seems to have to be endured; but already there is a single voice of all, more confirmed by hatred than by force.
scito nihil umquam fuisse tam infame, tam turpe, tam peraeque omnibus generibus, ordinibus, aetatibus offensum quam hunc statum qui nunc est, magis me hercule quam vellem non modo quam putarem. populares isti iam etiam modestos homines sibilare docuerunt. Bibulus in caelo est nec qua re scio, sed ita laudatur quasi unus homo nobis cunctando restituit rem. Pompeius, nostri amores, quod mihi summo dolori est, ipse se adflixit. neminem tenent voluntate; ne metu necesse sit iis uti vereor. ego autem neque pugno cum illa causa propter illam amicitiam neque approbo, ne omnia improbem quae antea gessi; utor via. populi sensus maxime theatro et spectaculis perspectus est; nam gladiatoribus qua dominus qua advocati sibilis conscissi; ludis Apollinaribus Diphilus tragoedus in nostrum Pompeium petulanter invectus est; nóstra miseriá tu es magnus— miliens coactus est dicere; Éandem virtutem ístam veniet témpus cum gravitér gemes totius theatri clamore dixit itemque cetera. nam et eius modi sunt ii versus uti in tempus ab inimico Pompei scripti esse videantur: si neque leges neque mores cogunt—, et cetera magno cum fremitu et clamore sunt dicta. Caesar cum venisset mortuo plausu, Curio filius est insecutus. huic ita plausum est ut salva re publica Pompeio plaudi solebat. tulit Caesar graviter. litterae Capuam ad Pompeium volare dicebantur. inimici erant equitibus qui Curioni stantes plauserant, hostes omnibus; Rosciae legi, etiam frumentariae minitabantur. sane res erat perturbata. equidem malueram quod erat susceptum ab illis silentio transiri, sed vereor ne non liceat. non ferunt homines quod videtur esse tamen ferendum; sed est iam una vox omnium magis odio firmata quam praesidio.
As for our friend Publius — he threatens me, he is hostile. Trouble hangs over me, to which of course you will fly. I think I have our old consular army of all good men, even of moderately good men, very firm. Pompeius signifies a not slight friendliness towards me; he affirms also that Clodius will not say a word about me. In which it is not he that deceives me; he himself is deceived. On Cosconius’s death I was invited to take his place. That was being invited into a dead man’s place. Nothing would have been more disgraceful for me before the world, nor in fact more alien to that very security. For those men are odious to good citizens; I should have kept my own ill-will among bad men, and taken on another’s besides. Caesar wishes me to be his legate.
noster autem Publius mihi minitatur, inimicus est. impendet negotium, ad quod tu scilicet advolabis. videor mihi nostrum illum consularem exercitum bonorum omnium, etiam sat bonorum habere firmissimum. Pompeius significat studium erga me non mediocre; idem adfirmat verbum de me illum non esse facturum; in quo non me ille fallit sed ipse fallitur. Cosconio mortuo sum in eius locum invitatus. id erat vocari in locum mortui. nihil me turpius apud homines fuisset neque vero ad istam ipsam ἀσφάλειαν quicquam alienius. sunt enim illi apud bonos invidiosi, ego apud improbos meam retinuissem invidiam, alienam adsumpsissem. Caesar me sibi vult esse legatum.
This is a more honourable way of declining the danger; yet I do not refuse it. What then? I prefer to fight. Nothing certain, however. Again I say: I wish you were here! But still, if it is necessary, we will summon you. What else? What? This, I think. We are sure that all is lost; for why do we keep up the pretence so long? But I have written this in a hurry, and, by Hercules, with timidity. Hereafter I shall write to you either, if I have someone trustworthy enough to whom I may give a letter, plainly all things; or, if I write obscurely, you will yet understand. In those letters I shall make myself Laelius, you Furius; the rest will be in riddles. Here we are paying court to Caecilius and observing him diligently. I hear Bibulus’s edicts have been sent to you. Over them our Pompeius is burning with grief and anger.
honestior declinatio haec periculi; sed ego hoc non repudio. quid ergo est? pugnare malo. nihil tamen certi. iterum dico utinam adesses! sed tamen si erit necesse, arcessemus. quid aliud? quid? hoc opinor. certi sumus perisse omnia; quid enim ἀκκιζόμεθα tam diu? sed haec scripsi properans et me hercule timide. posthac ad te aut, si perfidelem habebo cui dem, scribam plane omnia aut, si obscure scribam, tu tamen intelleges. in iis epistulis me Laelium, te Furium faciam; cetera erunt ἐν αἰνιγμοῖσ. hic Caecilium colimus et observamus diligenter. edicta Bibuli audio ad te missa. iis ardet dolore et ira noster Pompeius.

Cite this passage

Ad Atticum 2.19

Pick a format and click Copy. The permalink jumps any reader to this exact section.

Support this project

Free to read here. Buy the ebook to support the work.

Kindle