Letter · 13 November 51 BC · in castris ad Pindenissum

Ad Familiares 2.9

Ad Familiares 2.9

Headnote

Cicero to M. Caelius Rufus, written from the camp at Pindenissus in the highlands of Cilicia in late October or early November 51 BC (the manuscript dateline: Scr. in castris ad Pindenissum vel ex m. Oct. vel in. Nov. a. 703 (51)). It is the prompt reply to the news — belatedly arrived at the besieging army — that Caelius has been elected curule aedile. The greater part of the elation is at Caelius’s other, unhoped-for victory: that of his old rival Hirrus, defeated by Caelius in the augural election earlier in the year. Cicero is sending congratulations from a camp under a Cilician hill-fort, with brigand-country between him and Rome and his news running months late.

The conceit on which the letter turns is that of an actor working a part. Cicero, hearing of Hirrus’s defeat, claims to have become Hirrus himself — the pompous orator from Lucilian satire, with his balbus (stammering) speech and his roster of showy young proteges — and to have played out his mannerisms scene by scene. The three short scraps of verse in section 2 are quotations or near-quotations of old Latin comedy or tragedy (ne edepol quantam rem egeris..., incredibile hoc factu obicitur, ego voluptatem animi nimiam), each set in Hirrus’s mouth and broken off at a comic instant. Cicero closes by collecting himself in his proper voice: he loves Caelius as the man fortune has given him as the magnifier of his own standing and the avenger of his enemies — a glance back at the political shaming of Hirrus, of which the augural defeat had been only the beginning.

First of all I congratulate you, as I am bound to do, and I am delighted both at your present standing and at what is now in prospect, somewhat late not through any neglect of mine but because of ignorance of everything: I am in country to which, both for its remoteness and for the brigandage, all news is conveyed with the greatest slowness. And when I have done congratulating you, then in truth I cannot find the words in which to thank you for being so made as to have given us — in the way you wrote to me — someone we can laugh at always. So when first I heard, I became that very same man myself (you know whom I mean), and acted out all those young men he is always parading.
primum tibi, ut debeo, gratulor laetorque cum praesenti tum etiam sperata tua dignitate, serius non neglegentia mea, sed ignoratione rerum omnium; in iis enim sum locis, quo et propter longinquitatem et propter latrocinia tardissime omnia perferuntur. et cum gratulor tum vero quibus verbis tibi gratias agam non reperio, quod ita factus sis, ut dederis nobis, quem ad modum scripseras ad me, quem semper ridere possemus. itaque, cum primum audivi, ego ille ipse factus sum (scis quem dicam) egique omnis illos adulescentis, quos ille iactitat.
It is hard to put it; but, looking at you, who are not here, and as if I were talking to you face to face: “By Pollux, what a feat you’ve performed, and what a deed you’ve done!” Then, because the thing had happened to me beyond my expectation, I fell back on this: “Incredible, this, that is now charged” — but then suddenly I marched through every gladness, glad. And when I was rebuked for almost losing my wits with too much joy, this is how I defended myself: “The excessive pleasure of the mind in me — ”
difficile est loqui; te autem contemplans absentem et quasi tecum coram loquerer: non édepol, quantam rem égeris neque quántum facinus féceris; quod quia praeter opinionem mihi acciderat, referebam me ad illud: Íncredibile hoc fáctu obicitur; repente vero incessi omnibus laetitiis laetus. in quo cum obiurgarer, quod nimio gaudio paene desiperem, ita me defendebam Égo voluptatem ánimi nimiam—.
What more would you have? While I am laughing at him, I have almost turned into him. But of these things, and of much else both about you and to you, when I shall have first laid hold on some leisure. Truly, my Rufus, I love you — you whom fortune has given me as the magnifier of my standing, the avenger not only of my enemies but of my detractors too, so that they have come to regret in part their own crimes, in part their own follies.
quid quaeris? dum illum rideo, paene sum factus ille. sed haec pluribus multaque alia et de te et ad te, quom primum ero aliquid nactus oti. te vero, mi Rufe, diligo, quem mihi fortuna dedit amplificatorem dignitatis meae, ultorem non modo inimicorum sed etiam invidorum meorum, ut eos partim scelerum suorum, partim etiam ineptiarum paeniteret.

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Ad Familiares 2.9

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