Letter · 8 March 45 BC · Asturae

Ad Atticum 12.14

Ad Atticum 12.14

Headnote

Cicero to Atticus, written from Astura on the eighth day before the Ides of March 709 AUC — 8 March 45 BC (the manuscript dateline: Scr.\ Asturae viii Id.\ Mart.\ a.\ 709 (45)). The second of the Astura day-letters. The first two sections are routine: a continuation of yesterday’s business with the augur Appuleius (Septimius, Laenas, and Statilius are the three names needed for the proxy oath), and a query about an old guarantee for Cornificius that the lawyer Junius has revived.

The third section is the heart of the letter and the most important sentence in the early Astura sequence: feci quod profecto ante me nemo ut ipse me per litteras consolarer. Cicero says he has done what surely no one before him has done — consoled himself, in his own person, by writing — and will send the book (the lost Consolatio) to Atticus once the copyists have made it out. He adds the bleak rider that no consolation is of its kind: he writes whole days not to make progress but to be held back briefly from the force of grief, and he strives, he says, not to repair his mind so much as his face. The closing of the section — perierunt illa quae amabas, “what you loved is gone” — is plain and unornamented in the Latin and is kept so in the English. The fourth section returns to news: Brutus’s letter helps in nothing, but he wishes Brutus would come; he asks when Pansa will set out; he grieves at Attica’s illness, trusts Craterus, and tells Pilia not to be in anguish — “it is enough that I mourn for all.”

About my being excused before Appuleius I sent you a letter yesterday. I take it there is no difficulty. Whomever you approach, none will refuse. But see to Septimius and Laenas and Statilius; three are needed. Laenas, though, had taken the whole business on himself.
de me excusando apud Appuleium dederam ad te pridie litteras. nihil esse negoti arbitror. quemcumque appellaris nemo negabit. sed Septimium vide et Laenatem et Statilium; tribus enim opus est. sed mihi Laenas totum receperat.
As to your writing that Junius has called upon you — Cornificius is, in any case, a man of means; even so, I should like to know when I am said to have stood surety, and whether for the father or for the son. None the less, as you say, you will see Cornificius’s agents and Appuleius the auctioneer.
quod scribis a Iunio te appellatum, omnino Cornificius locuples est; sed tamen scire velim quando dicar spopondisse et pro patre anne pro filio. neque eo minus, ut scribis, procuratores Cornifici et Appuleium praediatorem videbis.
As to your wishing me to be brought back to myself from this sorrow, you do as you do in all things; but that I have not failed myself, you are my witness. Nothing on the subject of lessening sorrow has been written by anyone that I have not read in your house. But grief overpowers every consolation. I have even done what surely no one before me has done — consoled myself, by writing, in my own person. I shall send the book to you when the copyists have made it out. I assure you, no consolation is of its kind. Whole days I spend writing — not that I make any progress, but in the meantime I am held back, not enough indeed (the force presses too hard), but I am loosened a little, and I strive in every direction not to repair my mind — if I can — so much as my face; and in doing so I sometimes seem to myself to be at fault, sometimes that I would be at fault if I did not. Solitude helps a little, but it would help far more if even so you were here. That is the one reason I have for leaving this place; for as concerns my troubles, it was doing well enough. And yet that itself grieves me. For you will not be able to find in me the same man I was. What you loved is gone.
quod me ab hoc maerore recreari vis, facis ut omnia; sed me mihi non defuisse tu testis es. nihil enim de maerore minuendo scriptum ab ullo est quod ego non domi tuae legerim. sed omnem consolationem vincit dolor. quin etiam feci quod profecto ante me nemo ut ipse me per litteras consolarer. quem librum ad te mittam, si descripserint librarii. adfirmo tibi nullam consolationem esse talem. totos dies scribo, non quo proficiam quid sed tantisper impedior non equidem satis (vis enim urget),—sed relaxor tamen ad omniaque nitor non ad animum sed ad vultum ipsum, si queam, reficiendum idque faciens interdum mihi peccare videor, interdum peccaturus esse nisi faciam. solitudo aliquid adiuvat, sed multo plus proficeret, si tu tamen interesses. quae mihi una causa est hinc discedendi; nam pro malis recte habebat. quamquam id ipsum doleo. non enim iam in me idem esse poteris. perierunt illa quae amabas.
About Brutus’s letter to me I wrote to you earlier. Shrewdly written, but nothing in it to help me. What he wrote to you, I should wish for: that he were here himself. Surely, since he loves me so much, he would help in some way. If you learn anything, write to me, please — above all, when Pansa is to set out. About Attica I grieve, but I trust in Craterus. Tell Pilia not to be in anguish. It is enough that I mourn for all.
de Bruti ad me litteris scripsi ad te antea. prudenter scriptae, sed nihil quod me adiuvarent. quod ad te scripsit id vellem, ut ipse adesset. certe aliquid, quoniam me tam valde amat, adiuvaret. quod si quid scies, scribas ad me velim, maxime autem Pansa quando. de Attica doleo, credo tamen Cratero. Piliam angi veta. satis est me maerere pro omnibus.

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Ad Atticum 12.14

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