Ad Atticum 14.13
Ad Atticum 14.13
Headnote
Cicero to Atticus, written at the Cumean villa on 26 April 44 BC — Perseus dateline Scr. in Cumano vi K. Mai. a. 710 (44). The longest of this Cumean cluster, and the most heavily Homeric. Two passages of the Iliad carry the argument: the council-of-the-Achaeans line on which a greater evil presses than feasting (Il.~9.228–230, adapted), and Aphrodite’s instruction to Aeneas to leave war to others and pursue the works of speech (Il.~5.428–429, re-pointed as the consolation Cicero and Atticus might offer each other in the looming civil war). The seaside-walk word halitene\^i (Greek: “stretched along the sea”) names a specific delight of the Bay of Naples.
The middle of the letter contains the clearest statement so far of the choice Cicero will worry at all spring: stay in Italy and risk slaughter, or accept the embassy to Greece and face the charge of having abandoned the state. The last section turns to a piece of business that crystallises the new regime’s character — Antony’s restoration of Sextus Clodius, justified out of Caesar’s commentarii, which Cicero believes to be forged. Cicero has, against his judgement, agreed: “he, since he has once admitted into his mind that whatever he wishes is permitted him, would have done it no less without my consent.” Copies of both letters — Antony’s and his own reply — are enclosed.
On the seventh day at last a letter from you was delivered to me, sent on the thirteenth day before the Kalends; in which you ask, and even suppose I myself do not know, whether I take more pleasure in the hills and the view or in the seaside walk halitene\^i. The truth is, as you say, that the charm of each spot is so great that I am in doubt which should be set first. But the works of a lovely feast are not our concern; rather an evil all too great, Zeus-nurtured one, we look upon and fear — in the balance whether to be saved or destroyed all’ ou daitos erātou erga memēlen, alla liēn mega pēma, diotrephes, eisorōntes deidimen; en doi\^ei de saōsemen ē apolesthai.
septimo denique die litterae mihi redditae sunt quae erant a te xiii Kal. datae; quibus quaeris atque etiam me ipsum nescire arbitraris utrum magis tumulis prospectuque an ambulatione ἁλιτενεῖ delecter. est me hercule, ut dicis, utriusque loci tanta amoenitas ut dubitem utra anteponenda sit. a)ll’ ou) daito e)phra/tou e)/rga me/mhlen, a)lla\ li/hn me/ga ph=ma, diotrefe/s, ei)soro/wntes dei/dimen: e)n doih=| de\ sawse/men h)\ a)pole/sqai.
For granted that you have written things great and gladdening to me about Decimus Brutus’s arrival at his legions — in which I see the greatest hope — still, if there is going to be a civil war (and there certainly will be if Sextus stays under arms, as I know for certain he will), I do not know what we must do. For it will not now be permitted, as it was in Caesar’s war, to go neither this way nor that. For whomsoever this party of the desperate believes to have rejoiced in Caesar’s death (and we all of us bore our joy at it most openly), him they will count among their enemies; and that points toward the greatest slaughter. It remains for us to betake ourselves to the camp of Sextus, or perhaps of Brutus. A hateful business, foreign to our age, and the war’s outcome uncertain. And somehow I can say to you, and you to me: my child, the works of war are not given to you; rather, pursue the lovely works of speech teknon emon, ou toi dedotai polēmēia erga, alla sy g’ himeroenta meterche\^o erga logoio.
quamvis enim tu magna et mihi iucunda scripseris de D. Bruti adventu ad suas legiones in quo spem maximam video, tamen si est bellum civile futurum (quod certe erit si Sextus in armis permanebit, quem permansurum esse certo scio), quid nobis faciendum sit ignoro. neque enim iam licebit quod Caesaris bello licuit neque huc neque illuc. quemcumque enim haec pars perditorum laetatum Caesaris morte putabit (laetitiam autem apertissime tulimus omnes), hunc in hostium numero habebit; quae res ad caedem maximam spectat. restat ut in castra Sexti aut, si forte, Bruti nos conferamus. res odiosa et aliena nostris aetatibus et incerto exitu belli, et nescio quo pacto tibi ego possum, mihi tu dicere, τέκνον ἐμόν, οὔ τοι δέδοται πολεμήια ἔργα, ἀλλὰ σύ γ’ ἱμερόεντα μετέρχεο ἔργα λόγοιο
But chance may see to all this — chance, which in such matters can do more than reason. As for us, let us look to what ought to lie within ourselves: that whatever happens, we bear it bravely and wisely, and remember that it has befallen mortals; and may letters, above all, but the Ides of March also, in no small measure console us.
sed haec fors viderit, ea quae talibus in rebus plus quam ratio potest. nos autem id videamus quod in nobis ipsis esse debet, ut quicquid accideret fortiter et sapienter feramus et accidisse hominibus meminerimus, nosque cum multum litterae tum non minimum Idus quoque Martiae consolentur.
Now take up my deliberation, which has me uneasy. So many considerations come to mind on either side. I set out, as I had decided, as legate to Greece: I appear to avoid in some degree the danger of impending slaughter, but I shall fall under some censure for having failed the state at so grave a time. If, on the other hand, I stay, I see indeed that I shall be in peril; but I suspect it may happen that I can be of service to the state. There are also private reasons: I am very strongly of opinion that, for confirming Cicero, it is useful for me to go there; nor did I have any other cause for my departure when I conceived the plan of being made legate by Caesar. So consider the whole matter, as you usually do, if you think any of it bears upon me.
suscipe nunc meam deliberationem qua sollicitor. ita multa veniunt in mentem in utramque partem. proficiscor, ut constitueram, legatus in Graeciam: caedis impendentis periculum non nihil vitare videor sed casurus in aliquam vituperationem quod rei publicae defuerim tam gravi tempore. sin autem mansero, fore me quidem video in discrimine sed accidere posse suspicor ut prodesse possim rei publicae. iam illa consilia privata sunt, quod sentio valde esse utile ad confirmationem Ciceronis me illuc venire; nec alia causa profectionis mihi ulla fuit tum cum consilium cepi legari a Caesare. tota igitur hac de re, ut soles, si quid ad me pertinere putas, cogitabis.
I come back now to your letter. You write that there are rumours that I am going to sell what I have on the lake, and certainly hand over the smaller villa to Quintus, even at an inflated price, so that, as Quintus the son told you, the dowered Aquilia may be brought into it. As for me, I have no thought of selling — unless I find something that pleases me more. And Quintus has no thought of buying at this time. He is sufficiently tormented by the debt of the dowry, for which he renders extraordinary thanks to Quintus Egnatius; and he shrinks so from taking a wife that he says nothing is more agreeable than a single bed. But enough of this too.
redeo nunc ad epistulam tuam. scribis enim esse rumores me ad lacum quod habeo venditurum, minusculam vero villam utique Quinto traditurum vel impenso pretio, quo introducatur, ut tibi Quintus filius dixerit, dotata Aquilia. ego vero de venditione nihil cogito nisi quid quod magis me delectet invenero. Quintus autem de emendo nihil curat hoc tempore. satis enim torquetur debitione dotis in qua mirificas Q. Egnatio gratias agit; a ducenda autem uxore sic abhorret ut libero lectulo neget esse quicquam iucundius. sed haec quoque hactenus.
I come back, then, to the wretched republic — or rather, to none. Marcus Antonius has written to me about the restoration of Sextus Clodius. How respectfully, so far as concerns me, you will see from his own letter (I have sent you a copy); how dissolutely, how disgracefully, and how perniciously — so much so that one sometimes finds oneself wishing for Caesar back — you will judge easily. For things which Caesar would never either have done or have allowed are now being produced out of his forged notebooks. As for me, I made myself the readiest accommodation to Antony. For he, since he has once admitted into his mind that whatever he wishes is permitted him, would have done it no less without my consent. And so I have sent you a copy of my own letter as well.
redeo enim ad miseram seu nullam potius rem publicam. M. Antonius ad me scripsit de restitutione Sex. Clodi; quam honorifice, quod ad me attinet, ex ipsius litteris cognosces (misi enim tibi exemplum), quam dissolute, quam turpiter quamque ita perniciose ut non numquam Caesar desiderandus esse videatur facile existimabis. quae enim Caesar numquam neque fecisset neque passus esset, ea nunc ex falsis eius commentariis proferuntur. ego autem Antonio facillimum me praebui. etenim ille, quoniam semel induxit animum sibi licere quod vellet, fecisset nihilo minus me invito. itaque mearum quoque litterarum misi tibi exemplum.