Letter · 20 April 46 BC · Romae

Ad Familiares 9.2

Ad Familiares 9.2

Headnote

Cicero to Varro, written at Rome a little after the twelfth day before the Kalends of May 46 BC (Perseus: Romae paulo post xii K.~Mai.~a.~708 (46)), that is, in the days just after the news of Thapsus had reached the city and Caesar’s victory over the last Pompeian field army in Africa was being celebrated. The light comic opening — the friend Caninius who keeps missing his rides, the night’s letter that goes stale before its courier appears — gives way at once to the political question that organizes the whole sequence: how two of the more conspicuous Pompeians left alive at Rome should hold themselves while the triumph is being prepared. Cicero’s advice is the great Epicurean tag in Latin dress: “let us avoid men’s eyes if we cannot so easily avoid their tongues.” Those who won look on us as conquered; those who lost are sorry we are still alive. He gives the candid account of why he has stayed: to leave Rome would have invited every uncharitable construction imaginable, and the daily habit of staying has, almost without his noticing, grown a callus.

The close is the manifesto of the literary turn. They will live together in their studies, from which they used to seek mere enjoyment but from which they now seek their safety. They will not refuse anyone who wants them in the work of rebuilding the commonwealth, not merely as architects but as common builders; and if no one takes them up, they will write and read of politeiai — of constitutions — and “in our writing and our books, as the most learned of the ancients did, attend to the commonwealth and inquire into customs and laws.” This sentence is the design-sketch for what becomes, over the next eighteen months, the most concentrated burst of philosophy in Latin: the Paradoxa Stoicorum, the Brutus, the Orator, eventually the De Finibus and Tusculans. Greek phrases are denser here than anywhere else in Cicero’s correspondence (heōlos, “stale”; the adverb lelēthotōs, “imperceptibly”; politeiai for De Re Publica-style constitutional inquiry); the register acknowledges Varro as a fellow Hellenist of the highest rank.

Your Caninius — and ours — came to me very late in the evening and said that he was setting out for you early the next morning, so I told him I would give him a letter to take; I asked him to call in the morning. I wrote the letter overnight; he did not come back to me; I supposed he had forgotten. And yet I should have sent that very letter through my own people, had I not heard from the same source that you were setting out from Tusculum early next morning. Then suddenly, a few days later, when I was least expecting it, Caninius came to me in the morning: he said he was leaving for you at once. The letter was by now stale — heōlos — the more so since such great new events had since been reported; still, I did not want my night’s work to go to waste, and I handed that very letter to Caninius. With him, as with a learned man and a great friend of yours, I spoke of the things which I expect he has reported to you.
Caninius tuus et idem noster cum ad me pervesperi venisset et se postridie mane ad te iturum esse dixisset, dixi ei me daturum litterarum aliquid; mane ut peteret rogavi. conscripsi epistulam noctu; nec ille ad me rediit; oblitum credidi. ac tamen eam ipsam tibi epistulam misissem per meos, nisi audissem ex eodem postridie te mane e Tusculano exiturum. at tibi repente paucis post diebus, cum minime exspectarem, venit ad me Caninius mane; proficisci ad te statim dixit. etsi erat e(/wlos illa epistula, praesertim tantis postea novis rebus adlatis, tamen perire lucubrationem meam nolui et eam ipsam Caninio dedi; sed cum eo ut cum homine docto et amantissimo tui locutus ea sum, quae pertulisse illum ad te existimo.
For yourself I have the same advice that I give myself: let us avoid men’s eyes if we cannot so easily avoid their tongues. For those who pride themselves on the victory look at us as if we were the conquered, and those who take our defeat hard are sorry that we are alive. You will perhaps ask why, with things in this state at the city, I am not absent as you are. You yourself, who outdo me and the rest in foresight, saw, I imagine, all of it; nothing whatever escaped you. But who is so lynx-eyed that in such darkness he does not stumble somewhere, run into something somewhere?
tibi autem idem consili do quod mihimet ipsi, ut vitemus oculos hominum, si linguas minus facile possimus; qui enim victoria se efferunt, quasi victos nos intuentur, qui autem victos nostros moleste ferunt, nos dolent vivere. quaeres fortasse cur, cum haec in urbe sint, non absim quem ad modum tu. tu enim ipse, qui et me et alios prudentia vincis, omnia, credo, vidisti, nihil te omnino fefellit. quis est tam Lynceus qui in tantis tenebris nihil offendat, nusquam incurrat?
For my own part the thought has long since occurred to me that it would be a good thing to go off somewhere, so as not to see what was being done here and not to hear what was being said. But I held myself back. I told myself that whoever met me would suppose — or, suppose or not, would say — exactly what suited him: “This man is afraid and is running for that reason,” or “He has some plan in hand and has a ship ready.” In the end, even the man who suspected most lightly — the one who knew me best, perhaps — would put it down to my going off because there were certain people my eyes could not bear to see. While I was turning this over, I have stayed on at Rome; and yet, imperceptibly, daily habit has by now grown a callus over my stomach lelēthotōs. There you have the reasoning behind my plan.
ac mihi quidem iam pridem venit in mentem bellum esse aliquo exire, ut ea, quae agebantur hic quaeque dicebantur, nec viderem nec audirem. sed calumniabar ipse; putabam, qui obviam mihi venisset, ut cuique commodum esset, suspicaturum aut dicturum, etiam si non suspicaretur: ’ hic aut metuit et ea re fugit aut aliquid cogitat et hàbet navem paratam.’ denique, levissime qui suspicaretur et qui fortasse me optime novisset, putaret me idcirco discedere, quod quosdam homines oculi mei ferre non possent. haec ego suspicans adhuc Romae maneo, et tamen lelhqo/tws consuetudo diurna callum iam obduxit stomacho meo. habes rationem mei consili.
For you, then, my advice is this: stay hidden where you are for the time being, while this triumphal congratulation is at its boil, and at the same time while we wait to hear how the business has been settled — for settled I take it to be. Much will depend on what spirit the victor brings to it, and on how the thing comes out; I have my own guess where my conjecture leads, but I am waiting all the same.
tibi igitur hoc censeo, latendum tantisper ibidem, dum effervescit haec gratulatio et simul dum audiamus quem ad modum negotium confectum sit; confectum enim esse existimo. Magni autem intererit qui fuerit victoris animus, qui exitus rerum; quamquam quo me coniectura ducat habeo, sed exspecto tamen.
As for you, I should not have you go to Baiae until the noise has gone hoarse. It will be more becoming for us, even when we have left this place, to be thought to have gone into those regions for weeping rather than for swimming. But you will judge that better. Only let this stand between us: that we live together with our studies, from which we used once to seek only enjoyment, but now even our safety; that we not fail anyone who is willing to take us into the work, not merely as architects but even as common builders for the rebuilding of the commonwealth, but rather run to it gladly; and that, if no one takes us up, we still both write and read of constitutions — politeias — and, if not in the Senate-house and the Forum, at least in our writing and our books, as the most learned of the ancients did, attend to the commonwealth and inquire into customs and laws. So it seems to me; what you intend to do, and what you yourself approve, I should be very grateful to learn if you will write to me.
te vero nolo, nisi ipse rumor iam raucus erit factus, ad Baias venire; erit enim nobis honestius, etiam cum hinc discesserimus, videri venisse in illa loca ploratum potius quam natatum. sed haec tu melius; modo nobis stet illud, una vivere in studiis nostris, a quibus antea delectationem modo petebamus, nunc vero etiam salutem; non deesse, si quis adbibere volet, non modo ut architectos verum etiam ut fabros ad aedificandam rem publicam et potius libenter accurrere; si nemo utetur opera, tamen et scribere et legere politei/as et, si minus in curia atque in foro, at in litteris et libris, ut doctissimi veteres fecerunt, gnavare rem p. et de moribus ac legibus quaerere. mihi haec videntur; tu quid sis acturus et quid tibi placeat pergratum erit si ad me scripseris.

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Ad Familiares 9.2

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