Letter · 10 March 49 BC · im Formiano

Ad Atticum 9.5

Ad Atticum 9.5

Headnote

Cicero to Atticus, written from the Formian villa on 10 March 49 BC (the manuscript dateline: Scr.\ im Formiano vi Id.\ Mart.\ a.\ 705 (49)). The letter is formally earlier than the one that, in the OCT, precedes it (9.4, of 12 March): the editorial order is canonical, not chronological. The occasion is a letter from Atticus sent on his own birthday, full of careful counsel about where Cicero should go — Adriatic or Tyrrhenian, Arpinum or Formiae, each route with its own scandal.

Section 1 reports the day’s company at the villa: Postumus and Quintus Fufius, both hurrying south to Brundisium and both denouncing Pompey and the Senate — “if I cannot bear these things in my own villa, am I to bear Curtius in the Senate-house?” Section 2 turns to the underlying question. Cicero declares the commonwealth lost. He has been angry with Pompey, more angry than with Caesar himself, because the causes of events move him more than the events: he counts back ten years of Pompeian negligence, the year of his own exile foremost, and likens that day’s anger to the Roman memory of the disaster on the Allia, more mourned than the Gallic sack itself. Section 3 then turns. Pompey’s benefits and his dignitas are remembered; Balbus’s reports have made it clear that Caesar’s whole campaign aims at Pompey’s destruction; and so Cicero casts himself as Achilles answering Thetis after the death of Patroclus — the celebrated Homer quotation (Iliad 18.96, 98–99), turned into the language of officium: such duties are worth purchasing with life itself. Section 4 closes on the optimates: he has no confidence in them, watches them give themselves over to Caesar, and waits for news from Brundisium.

On your birthday you wrote me a letter full of counsel and of the highest both good will and prudence. Philotimus delivered it to me the day after he received it from you. The matters you discuss are indeed most difficult: a journey to the Upper Sea, a voyage by the Lower; a withdrawal to Arpinum, lest I should seem to have fled this man; a stay at Formiae, lest we should seem to have offered ourselves to his felicitations — but nothing more wretched than to see the things that, even so, I tell you, will now have to be seen. Postumus was with me; I have written to you how heavy he was. Quintus Fufius too came to me — with what a face, with what a spirit! Hurrying to Brundisium, denouncing Pompey’s crime, denouncing the levity and stupidity of the Senate. If I cannot bear these things in my own villa, am I to bear Curtius in the Senate-house?
Natali die tuo scripsisti epistulam ad me plenam consili summaeque cum benevolentiae tum etiam prudentiae. eam mihi Philotimus postridie quam a te acceperat reddidit. sunt ista quidem quae disputas difficillima, iter ad superum, navigatio infero, discessus Arpinum ne hunc fugisse, mansio Formiis ne obtulisse nos gratulationi videamur, sed miserius nihil quam ea videre quae tamen iam, inquam, videnda erunt. fuit apud me Postumus, scripsi ad te quam gravis. venit ad me etiam Q. Fufius quo vultu, quo spiritu! properans Brundisium, scelus accusans Pompei, levitatem et stultitiam senatus. haec qui in mea villa non feram, Curtium in curia potero ferre?
Come now, suppose me to bear all this with however strong a stomach eustomachos — still, what of the question, “Tell us, Marcus Tullius: what end will these things have?” And I leave aside the cause of the commonwealth, which I count as lost both through its own wounds and through the remedies that are being prepared. What am I to do about Pompey? With whom (for why should I deny it?) I have been plainly angry. For the causes of events have always moved me more than the events themselves. Considering, then — or rather judging — that these evils (and what can be greater?) have come about through his agency and his fault, I was more hostile to him than to Caesar himself. As our ancestors held the day of the battle of the Allia a more mournful day than the day of the City’s capture — because that disaster proceeded from this one (so that the one day is even now religiously observed and the other is unknown to the common people) — so I, calling to mind the wrongs of ten years (among which was the year that, with this man not defending us, broke us down — to put it no more sharply) and recognising the temerity, the cowardice, and the negligence of the present time, was angry with him.
age, finge me quamvis εὐστομάχωσ haec ferentem; quid illa dic, M. Tulli? quem habebunt exitum? et omitto causam rei publicae quam ego amissam puto cum vulneribus suis tum medicamentis iis quae parantur, de Pompeio quid agam? quoi plane (quid enim hoc negem?) suscensui. semper enim me causae eventorum magis movent quam ipsa eventa. haec igitur mala (quibus maiora esse quae possunt?) considerans vel potius iudicans eius opera accidisse et culpa inimicior eram huic quam ipsi Caesari. ut maiores nostri funestiorem diem esse voluerunt Alliensis pugnae quam urbis captae, quod hoc malum ex illo (itaque alter religiosus etiam nunc dies, alter in vulgus ignotus), sic ego decem annorum peccata recordans in quibus inerat ille etiam annus qui nos hoc non defendente, ne dicam gravius, adflixerat praesentisque temporis cognoscens temeritatem, ignaviam, neglegentiam suscensebam.
But these things are now out of my mind; his benefits to me I think on, I think also on his dignity. Later than I could wish, I now understand, because of Balbus’s letters and conversations, but I see plainly that nothing else is being aimed at — nothing has been aimed at from the beginning — but to do this man to death. Therefore, as that hero in Homer to whom both his mother and a goddess had said, “At once, then, after Hector your doom is readyautika gar toi epeita meth’ Hektora potmos hetoimos, himself answered his mother, “Let me die at once, since I was not, after all, to have saved my comrade from being killed” autika tethnaien, epei ouk ar’ emellon hetairoi kteinomenoi epamunai — what if not only “comrade” hetairoi but “benefactor” euergetei? add, such a man, conducting such a cause? Such duties, indeed, I count worth purchasing with life itself. As for those “best men” of yours, I have no confidence in them; I am not even any longer at their service.
sed ea iam mihi exciderunt; beneficia eiusdem cogito, cogito etiam dignitatem; intellego serius equidem quam vellem propter epistulas sermonesque Balbi, sed video plane nihil aliud agi, nihil actum ab initio, nisi ut hunc occideret. ego igitur, sicut ille apud Homerum cui et mater et dea dixisset, αὐτίκα γάρ τοι ἔπειτα μεθ’ Ἕκτορα πότμοσ ἕτοιμος, matri ipse respondit, αὐτίκα τεθναίην, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἄρ’ ἔμελλον ἑταίρῳ κτεινομένῳ ἐπαμῦναι, quid si non ἑταίρῳ solum sed etiam εὐεργέτῃ, adde tali viro talem causam agenti? ego vero haec officia mercanda vita puto. optimatibus vero tuis nihil confido, nihil iam ne inservio quidem.
I see how they give themselves to this one, how they are going to give themselves. Do you suppose those municipal decrees about his health were anything in comparison with these felicitations on his victory? They are afraid, you will say. But they themselves say that they were afraid then too. But let us see what is done at Brundisium. From that, perhaps, new nea counsels will be born, and other letters.
video ut se huic dent, ut daturi sint. quicquam tu illa putas fuisse de valetudine decreta municipiorum prae his de victoria gratulationibus? timent inquies. at ipsi tum se timuisse dicunt. sed videamus quid actum sit Brundisi. ex eo fortasse νέα consilia nascentur aliaeque litterae.

Cite this passage

Ad Atticum 9.5

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