Letter · 20 April 45 BC · in Attici Ficuleano

Ad Familiares 9.11

Ad Familiares 9.11

Headnote

Cicero to P. Cornelius Dolabella, written at Atticus’s Ficuleanum estate a little after the twelfth day before the kalends of May — Perseus: in Attici Ficuleano paulo post xii K. Mai. a.~709 (45), that is, shortly after 20 April 45 BC. Tullia had died in mid-February. Dolabella, though he and Tullia had divorced, had written Cicero a letter of condolence; this short note is Cicero’s reply. Dolabella was abroad on campaign with Caesar; Cicero was passing his bereavement between his own and Atticus’s country houses, working on the Consolatio for himself and beginning the Academica.

The letter is two short paragraphs, both bent around the same thought: gratitude to Dolabella for loving him visibly, and a frank statement that Cicero is not himself. The opening sentence is a load-bearing hyperbole — vel meo ipsius interitu mallem litteras meas desiderares, “I should rather you had missed letters from me by reason of my own death than by this calamity” — and the disavowal in the middle of section~1 is the philosophical pivot: he has not forgotten hominem me esse, that he is a man, and he does not think he must succumb to fortune; but the old cheerfulness is gone. Proelia te mea causa sustinere at the head of section~2 evidently refers to disputes in which Dolabella has defended Cicero’s name in Cicero’s absence — Cicero asks not to be vindicated so much as to be loved. The brevity is signalled at the close: he is not yet satis confirmatus ad scribendum, not yet steady enough for writing.

I should have wished that you missed letters from me on account of my own death, rather than on account of the calamity by which I have been most grievously stricken. Which I should certainly bear with more measure if I had you with me; for both your prudent words and your singular love toward me would lighten it greatly. But since, as I think, I shall be seeing you in a short time, you will find me in such a state that you can do much to help me — not that I am so broken as to have forgotten that I am a man, or to think that I must succumb to fortune, but for all that, that old cheerfulness of mine, and that sweetness which used to delight you above all others, has been torn from me entirely. Yet that firmness and steadiness, if ever there was any in us, you will find unaltered, the very same that you left.
vel meo ipsius interitu mallem litteras meas desiderares quam eo casu, quo sum gravissime adflictus; quem ferrem certe moderatius, si te haberem; nam et oratio tua prudens et amor erga me singularis multum levaret. sed quoniam brevi tempore, ut opinio nostra est, te sum visurus, ita me adfectum offendes, ut multum a te possim iuvari; non quo ita sim fractus, ut aut hominem me esse oblitus sim aut fortunae succumbendum putem, sed tamen hilaritas illa nostra et suavitas, quae te praeter ceteros delectabat, erepta mihi omnis est; firmitatem tamen et constantiam, si modo fuit aliquando in nobis, eandem cognosces quam reliquisti.
As to your writing that you are sustaining battles on my account, I do not so much labour that those who disparage me should be refuted by you, as I desire it to be understood — as it certainly is understood — that I am loved by you. That you continue to do so, I beg of you again and again; and I ask your pardon for the brevity of this letter, for I both reckon that we shall soon be together and am not yet sufficiently strengthened for writing.
quod scribis proelia te mea causa sustinere, non tam id laboro ut, si qui mihi obtrectent, a te refutentur, quam intellegi cupio, quod certe intellegitur, me a te amari. quod ut facias, te etiam atque etiam rogo, ignoscasque brevitati litterarum mearum; nam et celeriter una futuros nos arbitror et nondum satis sum confirmatus ad scribendum.

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Ad Familiares 9.11

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