At last, with difficulty, I have read a letter worthy of Appius Claudius — full of humanity, of obligation, of attentiveness. The sight of the city, plainly, has restored you to your old urbanity; for the letters you sent me from the road, before you had left Asia — the one about ambassadors I had forbidden to set out, the other about the Apameans’ building obstructed — I read with the utmost reluctance, and I wrote back to you in some annoyance, in the consciousness of my unchanging goodwill toward you. But when I had read the letter you gave to my freedman Philotimus, I came to understand — and to recognise — that there had been many in the province who would have wished us to be on other terms than those on which we in fact stand; whereas you, when you came to the city, or rather when first you saw your own people, learned from them with what loyalty I had stood by you in your absence, and with what scrupulous and steady regard I had kept up every observance toward you. So at how high a price do you suppose I value what is written in your letter — that if anything should arise affecting my standing, you would return me a like favour, even though it could hardly be done? You will find it easy: there is nothing zeal and goodwill — or rather love — cannot accomplish.

vix tandem legi litteras dignas Ap. Claudio, plenas humanitatis, offici, diligentiae. aspectus videlicet urbis tibi tuam pristinam urbanitatem reddidit; nam quas ex itinere ante quam ex Asia egressus es ad me litteras misisti, unas de legatis a me prohibitis proficisci, alteras de Appianorum aedificatione impedita, legi perinvitus; itaque conscientia meae constantis erga te voluntatis rescripsi tibi subiratus. Iis vero litteris lectis, quas Philotimo, liberto meo, dedisti, cognovi intellexique in provincia multos fuisse, qui nos, quo animo inter nos sumus, esse nollent, ad urbem vero ut accesseris vel potius ut primum tuos videris, cognosse te ex iis, qua in te absentem fide, qua in omnibus officiis tuendis erga te observantia et constantia fuissem. itaque quanti illud me aestimare putas, quod est in tuis litteris scriptum, si quid inciderit, quod ad meam dignitatem pertineat, etsi vix fieri possit, tamen te parem mihi gratiam relaturum? tu vero facile facies; nihil est enim quod studio et benevolentia vel amore potius effici non possit.

For my part, although I formed the same opinion myself, and was constantly being kept informed by my people by letter, still I took the greatest pleasure from your letter, in the prospect, by no means in doubt and now plainly settled, of your triumph; and not for this reason — that I might the more easily attain mine myself (for that is an Epikoureion (Epicurean) consideration) — but, by Hercules, because your standing and eminence are dear to me for their own sake. Wherefore, since you have more people than the rest whom you know to be setting out for this province — since nearly all of them call on you, in case there is anything you wish — you will do me the greatest favour if you send me a letter the moment you have attained what you yourself look for with confidence and I desire. The judgment of “the long bench” — as our friend Pompey calls it — and the delay, if it takes from you a day or two more (for what more can it take?), will leave your standing in its proper place all the same; but if you love me, if you wish to be loved by me, send me a letter, that I may be touched with the joy as soon as may be.

ego, etsi ipse ita iudicabam et fiebam crebro a meis per litteras certior, tamen maximam laetitiam cepi ex tuis litteris de spe minime dubia et plane explorata triumphi tui, neque vero ob eam causam, quo ipse facilius consequerer (nam id quidem *)epikou/reion est), sed mehercule quod tua dignitas atque amplitudo mihi est ipsa cara per se. qua re, quoniam pluris tu habes quam ceteri, quos scias in hanc provinciam proficisci, quod te adeunt fere omnes, si quid velis, gratissimum mihi feceris, si ad me, simulatque adeptus eris quod et tu confidis et ego opto, litteras miseris. ’ longi subselli,’ ut noster Pompeius appellat, iudicatio et mora si quem tibi item unum alterumve diem abstulerit (quid enim potest amplius?), tua tamen dignitas suum locum obtinebit; sed, si me diligis, si a me diligi vis, ad me litteras, ut quam primum laetitia adficiar, mittito.

And I should like you to pay me the rest of what is owed of your promise and gift. While I desire to gain the knowledge itself of augural law, by Hercules I am also incredibly pleased by your kindnesses toward me and your gifts. As for your asking something of the same sort from me — it really does need thought, in what way most fittingly to pay you back in return. For surely it is not for me — who, as you are wont to wonder at, put so much labour into writing — to commit the fault of seeming to have been careless in writing; especially when that would not only be the charge of a careless mind, but even of an ungrateful one.

et velim, reliquum quod est promissi ac muneris tui, mihi persolvas. Cum ipsam cognitionem iuris auguri consequi cupio tum mehercule tuis incredibiliter studiis erga me muneribusque delector. quod autem a me tale quiddam desideras, sane mihi considerandum est, quonam te remunerer potissimum genere. nam profecto non est meum, qui in scribendo, ut soles admirari, tantum industriae ponam, committere ut neglegens in scribendo fuisse videar, praesertim cum id non modo neglegentis, sed etiam ingrati animi crimen futurum sit.

But of that we shall see. As for the thing you promise: I should be glad if, by your loyalty and your diligence, and for the sake of our friendship — not newly set up, but now of long standing — you would take pains and strive that a supplicatio be decreed me in the most honorific way and at the earliest possible moment. I sent the despatch, on the whole, later than I had wished (in which both the difficulty of sailing was vexing, and I believe my letter fell on the very break-up of the Senate); but I did so prompted by your authority and counsel, and I think I did rightly, in that I sent the despatch not at the moment I was hailed as imperator, but after I had added further actions and finished the summer campaigns. These matters, then, will be your care, in the manner you indicate; and you will hold me, with all that is mine and all my people, in your keeping.

verum haec videbimus. illud, quod polliceris, velim pro tua fide diligentiaque et pro nostra non instituta, sed iam inveterata amicitia cures, enitare, ut supplicatio nobis quam honorificentissime quam primumque decernatur. omnino serius misi litteras quam vellem (in quo cum difficultas navigandi fuit odiosa, tum in ipsum discessum senatus incidisse credo meas litteras), sed id feci adductus auctoritate et consilio tuo idque a me recte factum puto, quod non statim, ut appellatus imperator sim, sed aliis rebus additis aestivisque confectis litteras miserim. haec igitur tibi erunt curae, quem ad modum ostendis, meque totum et mea et meos commendatos habebis.

C icero by Claude

Ad Familiares 3.9

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