Letter · 1 June 45 BC · in Tusculano

Ad Atticum 13.28

Ad Atticum 13.28

Headnote

Cicero to Atticus, written at the Tusculan villa on 1 June 45 BC — Perseus dateline Scr. in Tusculano Vii. K. Iun. a. 709 (45). The sequel to 13.27 and the closing letter of the late-May Tusculan run before the early-June continuation: the dedication-shuffle around Varro and the Academica revision proceed in the background, but the foreground is again the abandoned letter of advice to Caesar, on which Cicero now declares himself defeated — not by the indecency of flattering the dictator (which, he admits in a sharp aside, ought to deter him) but by the simple fact that nothing useful occurs to him.

Section 2 is the heart: Cicero contrasts his blank draftsman’s slate with the schoolroom panegyrists who could exhort Alexander to glory because their young king was ablaze for it, and confesses that what he “carved out of an oak” was criticized precisely for the few decent strokes in it. Section 3 sharpens the historical analogy: even Aristotle’s pupil turned tyrant once the kingship took hold, so what hope of restraint in this contubernalis of Quirinus’s procession (a glance at the statue of Caesar carried in the parade of the gods)? One Greek phrase: probl\=ema Archid\=emou, “the puzzle of Archidemus,” an unidentified Stoic-dialectical reference that does duty here as the old spur Cicero had felt to write the letter, now extinguished. The autograph postscript at section 4 is a piece of marriage- market gossip: Thalna’s suit for Cornificia, blocked by the women of the house on financial grounds, with the dowry spelled out in figures (the Latin abbreviates the sum: 800,000 sesterces).

Since today you were to look the gardens over, what you made of them I shall of course hear tomorrow. About Faberius, whenever he comes.
hortos quoniam hodie eras inspecturus, quid visum tibi sit cras scilicet. de Faberio autem, cum venerit.
As for the letter to Caesar — believe me, I swear it — I cannot. And it is not the indecency of the thing that puts me off, though indecency, more than anything else, ought to. For how disgraceful is flattery, when the very fact of being alive is disgraceful for us! But, as I began to say, this disgrace is not what holds me back. I do wish I could do it (I would then be what I ought to be); but nothing comes into my head. For consider those exhortations to Alexander composed by men of eloquence and learning — you see what sort of ground they cover. They urge a young man on fire with the truest love of glory, eager to be given some piece of counsel that may carry him to everlasting renown, to splendour. The words are not lacking; but what can I do? Still, I had carved something or other out of an oak, something to look at least like an image. In it, because there were certain bits a little better than the things being done now or that have been done, the work was criticized; and I am not at all sorry for that. For if that letter had gone through, believe me, we would be sorry now.
de epistula ad Caesarem, iurato mihi crede, non possum; nec me turpitudo deterret, etsi maxime debebat. quam enim turpis est adsentatio, cum vivere ipsum turpe sit nobis! sed, ut coepi, non me hoc turpe deterret. ac vellem quidem (essem enim qui esse debebam), sed in mentem nihil venit. nam quae sunt ad Alexandrum hominum eloquentium et doctorum suasiones vides quibus in rebus versentur. adulescentem incensum cupiditate verissimae gloriae, cupientem sibi aliquid consili dari quod ad laudem sempiternam valeret, cohortantur ad decus. non deest oratio; ego quid possum? tamen nescio quid e quercu exsculpseram quod videretur simile simulacri. in eo quia non nulla erant paulo meliora quam ea quae fiunt et facta sunt, reprehenduntur; quod me minime paenitet. si enim pervenissent istae litterae, mihi crede, nos paeniteret.
Why, do you not see that the very pupil of Aristotle, a man of supreme talent and supreme self-restraint, became, once he was hailed as king, arrogant, cruel, ungoverned? And this messmate of our own Quirinus’s procession — do you really suppose he would be pleased by these moderate letters of ours? No, rather let him miss what is not written than disapprove of what is. In the end, let him have it as he likes. Gone is the impulse that was urging me when I gave you Archidemus’s puzzle problēma Archidēmou. By Hercules, I far more now wish for the outcome I then feared, or for whatever else happens. If nothing else delays you, come at a moment to suit me. Nicias, sent for with great urgency by Dolabella (for I have read the letter), has set off — against my wishes, though on my own advice all the same.
quid? tu non vides ipsum illum Aristoteli discipulum summo ingenio, summa modestia, postea quam rex appellatus sit, superbum, crudelem, immoderatum fuisse? quid? tu hunc de pompa Quirini contubernalem his nostris moderatis epistulis laetaturum putas? ille vero potius non scripta desideret quam scripta non probet. postremo ut volet. abiit illud quod tum me stimulabat quom tibi dabam πρόβλημα Ἀρχιδήμου. multo me hercule magis nunc opto casum illum quem tum timebam vel quem libebit. nisi quid te aliud impediet, mi optato veneris. Nicias a Dolabella magno opere arcessitus (legi enim litteras) etsi invito me tamen eodem me auctore profectus est.
This in my own hand. As I was asking Nicias about the philologists, as though it were on some other subject, we fell upon Thalna. He said nothing extreme about the man’s ability — modest, frugal. But here is what did not please me. He said he knew that Cornificia, the daughter of Quintus — pretty long in the tooth and many times married — had been sought by him recently in marriage; and that the women did not approve, because they were finding the estate not more than 800,000. This I thought it right for you to know.
hoc manu mea. cum quasi alias res quaererem de philologis e Nicia, incidimus in Thalnam. ille de ingenio nihil nimis, modestum et frugi. sed hoc mihi non placuit. se scire aiebat ab eo nuper petitam Cornificiam, Q. filiam, vetulam sane et multarum nuptiarum; non esse probatum mulieribus, quod ita reperirent rem non maiorem d_c_c_c_. hoc putavi te scire oportere.

Cite this passage

Ad Atticum 13.28

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