Ad Atticum 6.3
Ad Atticum 6.3
Headnote
Cicero to Atticus, written from somewhere in Cilicia before the fifth day before the Kalends of Quintilis (before 27 June) 50 BC (the manuscript dateline: Scr. in Cilicia ... ante v K. Quint. a. 704 (50)). The next letter after Ad Atticum 6.2: sent off with the freedman Philotimus, who is travelling back to Rome. The proconsular year is now visibly running out — Cicero must leave the province on the third day before the Kalends of Sextilis (30 July) — and there is still no successor, and no obvious candidate to leave in charge. The whole letter is held in the gravitational field of that single structural problem.
Three threads weave through. First, the succession (§§1–3): the only acceptable candidate of praetorian rank is Cicero’s brother Quintus, who hates the province and cannot well be asked; Pomptinus has already gone home by prior agreement; the quaestor is levis, libidinosus, tagax — and a great Parthian war is presumed to be coming. Second, the political weather at Rome (§4): tiresome news of Curio and Paulus; Cicero, anxious about the Caesar/Pompey trajectory, asks Atticus to send him a sketch of the state of the commonwealth so that he can think his way back into a city he has begun to feel foreign to. Third, the Brutus-Scaptius-Salaminian affair, which is now Cicero’s fixed thorn (§§5–7): the Cypriots were counting out the money, but Scaptius would not have it at twelve percent renewed yearly; the prefecture has been refused again, both for Scaptius and for the Clodian dependant Gavius, who parted from Cicero at Apamea with open insolence; and Brutus, in every letter, has had “something arrogant, something ἀκοινονόητον.” The closing paragraphs (§§8–9) drop into the family news: Quintus the younger, having read the troubling letter to his father about his mother, has wept — a moment of unexpected sweetness in a boy Cicero has otherwise begun to worry about — and the younger Hortensius is making a disgraceful spectacle of himself at the Laodicea gladiatorial games.
Although I had really nothing new to say of what has happened since I gave a letter for you to your freedman Philogenes, still, as I was sending Philotimus back to Rome, something had to be written to you. And first, what was vexing me most — not that you could be of any help; how should you be? the matter is in hand, and you are far away in the wide world; and many waves does the south wind roll in the open space of the broad sea. The day is creeping up, as you see (for on the third day before the Kalends of Sextilis I must leave the province), and no successor is coming. Whom shall I leave in charge of the province? Reason and the opinion of men alike call for my brother — first because it seems to be the position of honour, and no one therefore is more eligible; secondly because he is the only man I have of praetorian rank. For Pomptinus, by an agreed bargain (for he came out only on that condition), has now left me; the quaestor no one thinks worthy — he is a light fellow indeed, loose, and light-fingered.
etsi nil sane habebam novi quod post accidisset quam dedissem ad te Philogeni liberto tuo litteras, tamen cum Philotimum Romam remitterem, scribendum aliquid ad te fuit. ac primum illud quod me maxime angebat—non quo me aliquid iuvare posses; quippe; res enim est in manibus, tu autem abes longe gentium; πολλὰ δ’ ἐν μεταιχμίῳ νότοσ κυλίνδει κύματ’ εὐρείησ ἁλός. obrepit dies, ut vides (mihi enim a. d. iii Kal. Sextil. de provincia decedendum est), nec succeditur. quem relinquam qui provinciae praesit? ratio quidem et opinio hominum postulat fratrem, primum quod videtur esse honos, nemo igitur potior; deinde quod solum habeo praetorium. Pomptinus enim ex pacto et convento (nam ea lege exierat) iam a me discesserat; quaestorem nemo dignum putat; etenim est levis, libidinosus, tagax.
As for my brother, the first point is this: I think he cannot be persuaded; for he hates the province, and by Hercules nothing more hateful, nothing more tiresome. Suppose, then, he should be unwilling to refuse me — what is my duty? Since a great war is reckoned to be in Syria, and that war seems likely to break out upon this province, and here there is nothing in the way of garrison, and an annual stipend has been voted — does it seem to be the part either of my brotherly affection to leave my brother behind, or of my own diligence to leave any rubbish of a man behind? You see, then, how great is the worry that grips me, how great the lack of counsel. What more would you have? In the whole business we should never have been involved at all. How much better your province is! You will leave it when you wish — unless indeed you have already left it; whomever you please you will set in charge of Thesprotia and Chaonia. And yet I had not even managed a meeting with Quintus, such that, if that course were chosen, I might know whether it could be got from him; nor, even if it could, did I yet have a clear notion of what I wanted.
de fratre autem primum illud est: persuaderi ei non posse arbitror; odit enim provinciam, et hercule nihil odiosius, nihil molestius. deinde ut mihi nolit negare, quidnam mei sit offici? cum bellum esse in Syria magnum putetur, id videatur in hanc provinciam erupturum, hic praesidi nihil sit, sumptus annuus decretus sit, videaturne aut pietatis esse meae fratrem relinquere aut diligentiae nugarum aliquid relinquere? magna igitur, ut vides, sollicitudine adficior, magna inopia consili. quid quaeris? toto negotio nobis opus non fuit. quanto tua provincia melior! decedes cum voles, nisi forte iam decessisti; quem videbitur praeficies Thesprotiae et Chaoniae. necdum tamen ego Quintum conveneram, ut iam, si id placeret, scirem possetne ab eo impetrari; nec tamen, si posset, quid vellem habebam.
This, then, is the way of it. The rest of the account is still full of praise and good favour, worthy of those books of yours that you so loudly praise: cities preserved, the publicani satisfied to the full, no one offended by an insult, very few by a just and severe sentence, and yet not one of them daring to complain, deeds worthy of a triumph; on which point itself we shall do nothing eagerly, and certainly nothing without your counsel. The closing scene is the difficulty — the handing over of the province. But some god shall pilot this.
hoc est igitur eius modi. reliqua plena adhuc et laudis et gratiae, digna iis libris quos dilaudas, conservatae civitates, cumulate publicanis satis factum, offensus contumelia nemo, decreto iusto et severo perpauci nec tamen quisquam ut queri audeat, res gestae dignae triumpho; de quo ipso nihil cupide agemus, sine tuo quidem consilio certe nihil. clausula est difficilis in tradenda provincia. sed haec deus aliquis gubernabit.
Of city matters you know more, of course; you hear more often and more reliably; for my part I am sorry I am not kept informed by letters from you. For tiresome news was being brought here of Curio, of Paulus. Not that I see any danger while Pompey stands — or even sits, provided only he keep his health — but, by Hercules, I am sorry for the part of Curio and of Paulus, friends of mine. So I should like you to send me, if you are now at Rome or when you are, a sketch of the whole state of the commonwealth, to meet me on the road, that I may shape myself by it and think out beforehand in what spirit to approach the city. It is something, in arriving, not to be a foreigner and a stranger.
de urbanis rebus scilicet plura tu scis; saepius et certiora audis; equidem doleo non me tuis litteris certiorem fieri. huc enim odiosa adferebantur de Curione, de Paulo; non quo ullum periculum videam stante Pompeio vel etiam sedente, valeat modo; sed me hercule Curionis et Pauli meorum familiarium vicem doleo. formam igitur mihi totius rei publicae, si iam es Romae aut cum eris, velim mittas quae mihi obviam veniat ex qua me fingere possim et praemeditari quo animo accedam ad urbem. est enim quiddam advenientem non esse peregrinum atque hospitem.
And what I almost passed over: in your Brutus’s affair, as I have often written to you, I have done everything. The Cypriots were counting out the money; but Scaptius was not content with interest at twelve percent per annum, renewed yearly. Ariobarzanes is not more forthcoming towards Pompey through his own action than he is towards Brutus through mine. As for Brutus, I could not stand surety for him; for the king was very poor, and I was so far off from him that I could do nothing except by letter; yet by letter I never ceased to fight. The sum of it is this. In proportion to what was owing, Brutus has been more liberally handled than Pompey. To Brutus there has been settled this year about a hundred talents; to Pompey, in six months, two hundred has been promised. As for Appius’s affair, how much I have done for Brutus’s sake can scarcely be told. What is there, then, for him to be aggrieved at? His friends are pure rubbish, Matinius and Scaptius. The latter, perhaps because he did not get squadrons of cavalry from me with which to harry Cyprus as he had done before my time, may be sulking; or because he was not made a prefect — an office I have granted to no businessman, not to my own friend C. Vennonius, not to your M. Laenius — and because I had shown you at Rome that I should keep to this principle, in which I have persevered. But what complaint can a man make who would not take the money when he could? Or as for Scaptius (the one who was in Cappadocia), I think enough has been done. He had accepted a tribunate from me which I had conferred on him at Brutus’s request; and afterwards he wrote to me that he did not wish to make use of that tribunate.
et quod paene praeterii, Bruti tui causa, ut saepe ad te scripsi, feci omnia. Cyprii numerabant; sed Scaptius centesimis renovato in singulos annos faenore contentus non fuit. Ariobarzanes non in Pompeium prolixior per ipsum quam per me in Brutum. quem tamen ego praestare non poteram; erat enim rex perpauper aberamque ab eo ita longe ut nihil possem nisi litteris; quibus pugnare non destiti. summa haec est. pro ratione pecuniae liber alius est Brutus tractatus quam Pompeius. Bruto curata hoc anno talenta circiter c, Pompeio in sex mensibus promissa cc. iam in Appi negotio quantum tribuerim Bruto dici vix potest. quid est igitur quod laborem? amicos habet meras nugas, Matinium, Scaptium. qui quia non habuit a me turmas equitum quibus Cyprum vexaret, ut ante me fecerat, fortasse suscenset, aut quia praefectus non est, quod ego nemini tribui negotiatori, non C. Vennonio meo familiari, non tuo M. Laenio, et quod tibi Romae ostenderam me servaturum; in quo perseveravi. sed quid poterit queri is qui auferre pecuniam cum posset noluit? † aut Scaptius† qui in Cappadocia fuit, puto esse satis factum. is a me tribunatum cum accepisset quem ego ex Bruti litteris ei detulissem, postea scripsit ad me se uti nolle eo tribunatu.
There is a certain Gavius on whom, at Brutus’s request, I had bestowed a prefecture: he said and did many things, with a certain insult to me; he is a dog of P. Clodius. He neither escorted me when I was setting out for Apamea, nor, when he had come into camp afterwards and was leaving it again, did he ask whether I wanted anything, and was openly, on some grounds I cannot name, no friend of mine. Had I kept this fellow among my prefects, what sort of man would you take me for? — I, who, as you know, have never put up with the insolent bearing of the most powerful, was I to put up with this dependent’s? And yet this is more than putting up with: it is even to grant him favour and honour. So this Gavius, having lately seen me at Apamea on his way to Rome, addressed me in a way I should hardly have dared to address a Culleolus: “From where,” he says, “do you bid me seek the prefect’s rations?” I answered, more mildly than the bystanders thought I should, that it had not been my practice to give rations to those whose services I had not used. He went off in a rage.
Gavius est quidam cui cum praefecturam detulissem Bruti rogatu multa et dixit et fecit cum quadam mea contumelia, P. Clodi canis. is me nec proficiscentem Apameam prosecutus est nec, cum postea in castra venisset atque inde discederet, num quid vellem rogavit et fuit aperte mihi nescio qua re non amicus. hunc ego si in praefectis habuissem, quem tu me hominem putares? qui, ut scis, potentissimorum hominum contumaciam numquam tulerim, ferrem huius adseculae? etsi hoc plus est quam ferre, tribuere etiam aliquid benefici et honoris. is igitur Gavius, cum Apameae me nuper vidisset Romam proficiscens, me ita appellavit ut Culleolum vix auderem, unde inquit me iubes petere cibaria praefecti? respondi lenius quam putabant oportuisse qui aderant me non instituisse iis dare cibaria quorum opera non essem usus. abiit iratus.
If Brutus can be moved by the chatter of this scamp, you may love him all by yourself: a rival in me you will not have. But I expect him to be the man he ought to be. Still, I wanted the case to be known to you, and I have written it all out to him most carefully. To say it all (for we are alone): Brutus has never sent me a letter, not even the last one about Appius, in which there has not been something arrogant, something lacking in common feeling. You yourself, however, are very fond of having on your tongue: “but Granius did not think little of himself, and hated proud kings.” In which, however, the man rather raises a laugh in me than stirs my bile. But he plainly gives too little thought to what he writes, or to whom.
huius nebulonis oratione si Brutus moveri potest, licebit eum solus ames, me aemulum non habebis. sed illum eum futurum esse puto qui esse debet. tibi tamen causam notam esse volui et ad ipsum haec perscripsi diligentissime. omnino (soli enim sumus) nullas umquam ad me litteras misit Brutus, ne proxime quidem de Appio, in quibus non inesset adrogans, ἀκοινονόητον aliquid. tibi autem valde solet in ore esse Granius autem non contemnere se et reges odisse superbos. in quo tamen ille mihi risum magis quam stomachum movere solet. sed plane parum cogitat quid scribat aut ad quem.
Quintus Cicero the boy read, as I suppose — and certainly did read — a letter addressed to his father. For he is in the habit of opening them, and by my own advice, in case there is anything that needs to be known. In that letter, however, was that same matter about his mother which had come to me. I saw the boy wonderfully upset. In tears he poured out his complaint to me. What more would you have? A wonderful piety, sweetness, and humanity I perceived in him; and so I have all the greater hope that nothing will turn out otherwise than as befits him. This, then, I wanted you to know.
Q. Cicero puer legit, ut opinor, et certe, epistulam inscriptam patri suo. solet enim aperire idque de meo consilio, si quid forte sit quod opus sit sciri. in ea autem epistula erat idem illud de sorore quod ad me. mirifice conturbatum vidi puerum. lacrimans mecum est questus. quid quaeris? miram in eo pietatem suavitatem humanitatemque perspexi. quo maiorem spem habeo nihil fore aliter ac deceat. id te igitur scire volui.
Nor will I pass over this either. The younger Hortensius was at Laodicea for the gladiatorial games, behaving disgracefully and shamefully. Him, for the father’s sake, I invited to dinner the day he came, and for the same father’s sake nothing further. He told me he would wait for me at Athens to travel back with me. “Very well,” I said; for what was I to say? On the whole I think nothing will come of what he said — I hope not, indeed, lest I offend the father, whom by Hercules I dearly love. But if he turns out to be in my company, I shall so manage as not to offend the man I least want to offend. So much for that; one thing more. The speech of Q. Celer against M. Servilius please send me. Send a letter as soon as you can; if nothing, then nothing at all by your own courier. Greetings to Pilia and to your daughter. Take care of yourself.
ne illud quidem praetermittam. Hortensius filius fuit Laodiceae gladiatoribus flagitiose et turpiter. hunc ego patris causa vocavi ad cenam quo die venit, et eiusdem patris causa nihil amplius. is mihi dixit se Athenis me exspectaturum ut mecum decederet. recte inquam; quid enim dicerem? omnino puto nihil esse quod dixit; nolo quidem, ne offendam patrem quem me hercule multum so diligo. sin fuerit meus comes, moderabor ita ne quid eum offendam quem minime volo. haec sunt; etiam illud. orationem Q. Celeris mihi velim mittas contra M. Servilium. litteras mitte quam primum; si nihil, nihil fieri vel per tuum tabellarium. Piliae et filiae salutem. cura ut valeas.