Ad Atticum 7.2
Ad Atticum 7.2
Headnote
Cicero to Atticus, written from Brundisium on the fifth day before the Kalends of December 50 BC (the manuscript dateline: Scr. Brundisi v K. Dec. a. 704 (50)). This is the first letter from Italian soil after the homeward voyage from Cilicia: the crossing from Epirus was easy, the proconsul is back, and Atticus has been ill at Rome. The book-opening joke is technical — a soft south-easterly wind from Onchesmos whose name happens to fall into a spondaic hexameter, which Cicero offers Atticus to pass off as his own.
The body of the letter braids together everything Cicero has been carrying since he landed. Atticus’s quartan fevers: Terentia met him at the forum the moment he came through the gate with a report from Trebula that the second fever has broken. The bundle of letters waiting at Brundisium, some in Atticus’s hand and some in the hand of Alexis (who imitates his patron so well Cicero loves the script for the resemblance). Tiro, left sick at Patrae — the boy Cicero calls probus, of the soundest character, and to whom he is about to write the letter that follows this one in the collection. Manius Curius’s will sealed with the signets of the three Ciceros and the praetorian cohort, with Atticus named heir of an as and Cicero of a quarter-as. The young Marcus’s irrepressible desire to see the river Thyamis. The report Atticus had sent of Pompey’s conversation at Naples about the triumph — the news that warmed Cicero most.
The political temper rises sharply in the second half. The triumph itself: Cicero had not coveted one until Bibulus’s preposterous dispatches were rewarded with a supplicatio of the most lavish kind, and the inequity is now intolerable — the disgrace, he tells Atticus, is nostrum, ours, binding the two of them together. Then a flash of resentment against Cato, who had refused him the supplicatio while voting Bibulus twenty days, and on whose snub Caesar (who is writing him flattering letters and promising everything) is openly gloating. And finally the runaway slave Chrysippus, the one he had liked for the boy’s sake — the offence is the flight, not the petty thefts. The letter closes with the one news that keeps the panic at bay: the Parthians have suddenly left Bibulus half-alive, and the danger that mattered last summer is, for the moment, off the board.