Letter · 105 AD · Rome

The Letters

Epistulae

Headnote

Sometime after AD 100 Pliny began to gather and publish his private correspondence: nine books of letters, issued in installments over roughly a decade, to which a tenth — his official exchange with the emperor Trajan during his governorship of Bithynia-Pontus — was added after his death. These are not the working letters of daily business but literary letters, each a finished composition built around a single subject and polished for publication. Pliny says as much in the opening note to Septicius Clarus that stands first in the collection: he has gathered those he wrote paulo curatius, “with a little more care than usual,” in no order of time, “for I was not composing a history.” The result is the most vivid self-portrait to survive from the high Roman empire, and the model on which the familiar letter as a published art-form was founded.

Book 1 sets out the range the whole collection will work in. There are letters of literary criticism and friendship (the appreciations of Pompeius Saturninus and the philosopher Euphrates, the long debate with Tacitus on whether an orator should aim at brevity or fullness, 1.20); letters of patronage and recommendation (the search for a husband for the niece of Arulenus Rusticus, 1.14; the gift of money to raise Romatius Firmus to equestrian rank, 1.19); the grave deathbed pieces that are among Pliny’s finest (the suicide of the ailing Corellius Rufus, 1.12; the illness of Titius Aristo, 1.22); social comedy (the mock-indictment of Septicius Clarus for missing a frugal dinner, 1.15); and the settling of scores with the informer Regulus, the recurring villain of the books (1.5). Through all of them runs one cultivated, genial voice — a senator who likes his friends, likes good prose, and assumes his reader does too.

Book 5 turns on the same range at a higher finish. Its centerpiece is one of the two great villa letters, the loving, room-by-room walk through the Tuscan estate near Tifernum sent to Domitius Apollinaris (5.6) — the colonnades, the bath suite, the box-hedged hippodrome, the dining-couch fed by its own runnels of water — closed by Pliny’s own apology for the length and his rule that a writer is long only when he strays from his subject. Around it stand the recurring matters of the collection: the long-running scandal of paid advocacy, opened with the Vicetines’ deputy Tuscilius Nominatus (5.4) and resolved before the senate with Nepos’s edict and Trajan’s rescript (5.9, 5.13); the second Bithynian prosecution, of the proconsul Varenus Rufus (5.20); the literary letters on whether Pliny should write history (5.8) and in defense of his light verse (5.3); the program of public benefaction shared with his wife’s grandfather Calpurnius Fabatus (5.11) and his home town (5.7). And it holds two of the finest of the grave pieces — the death of the historian Gaius Fannius with his unfinished book and his dream of Nero (5.5), and the death of Minicius Fundanus’s younger daughter on the eve of her wedding (5.16), among the most affecting things Pliny wrote.

Book 7 shows the same hand in its full range and holds the most famous of all Pliny’s set-pieces. Its centerpiece is the ghost-story to Licinius Sura (7.27), three apparitions told in mounting order — the warning figure of Africa to Curtius Rufus, the chained specter of the haunted house at Athens that the philosopher Athenodorus follows to its buried bones, and the shearing of the hair of Pliny’s own household under Domitian — a small masterpiece of the supernatural narrative that Pliny lengthens and builds with deliberate suspense. Around it stand the literary letters that are almost a manifesto: the long letter to Fuscus Salinator on how to study in retirement, with its program of translation, emulous rewriting, and verse (7.9); the account to Pontius of how Pliny came to write his hendecasyllables (7.4); the defense of reciting speeches and the praise of fear as the sharpest corrector (7.17). The grave note sounds in the illness of Fannia (7.19), last of the line of Thrasea and Helvidius, who carried into exile the very book that caused it — one of Pliny’s noblest portraits of Roman virtue. And the satiric edge shows in the indignant laughter over the monument of the freedman Pallas on the Tiburtine Way (7.29), and in the wry obituary of the pantomime-loving Ummidia Quadratilla and her decorous grandson (7.24). The book closes with the celebrated request to Tacitus to set in his histories Pliny’s stand, with Herennius Senecio, against Baebius Massa (7.33) — the letter that most openly courts the immortality the whole collection was built to win, while insisting that history must not overstep the truth, and that for honorable deeds the truth suffices.

Book 8 sets two of Pliny’s finest nature set-pieces beside two of his sharpest moral performances. The descriptive jewels are the sacred spring of Clitumnus (8.8), the glassy, oracular source in Umbria with its robed river-god and its votive walls, and the floating islands of Lake Vadimon (8.20), the perfect wheel of sulfurous water on which grassy islets drift and couple and race — both written, as Pliny says of the second, because nothing delights him so much as the works of nature, and both rendered here at the full amplitude with which he builds them. Against these stand the indignant masterpiece of the book, the letter to Montanus on the monument and senatorial decree of the freedman Pallas (8.6), where Pliny quotes the bronze record clause by clause and lets its self-abasing flattery condemn the age of Claudius out of its own mouth; and the long technical letter to Titius Aristo on a contested division of the vote in the trial of Afranius Dexter’s freedmen (8.14), the fullest surviving account of senatorial procedure, prefaced by a bleak retrospect on how the servitude of Domitian’s years unlearned the senate its own law. The grave pieces are here too — the death of the young Junius Avitus, whom Pliny had launched (8.23), and the meditation on the deaths of his own slaves and his right to grieve them, with its insistence that to feel grief and yet admit consolation is what it is to be a man (8.16) — together with the reversal of the miser Domitius Tullus, far better in his will than in his life (8.18). The two letters on Calpurnia’s miscarriage, to her grandfather Fabatus (8.10) and her aunt Hispulla (8.11), show the domestic voice at its tenderest; and the book closes on the celebrated letter of advice to Maximus, sent to set the free cities of Achaia in order — to reverence the land that gave Rome its laws, and to remember that it is Athens he approaches, Sparta he governs (8.24).

Book 9, last of the private books, is a book of short letters — forty of them, none very long save one — and in their brevity the whole range of the collection is concentrated. Its longest and gravest piece is the narrative to Ummidius Quadratus of how Pliny, after Domitian’s death, rose in the senate to call Publicius Certus to account for his attack on Helvidius the Younger (9.13), a sustained scene of senatorial courage and its rewards that Pliny tells as a set-piece of his own boldness. Its most celebrated is the dolphin of Hippo (9.33), the African tale, true but most like a fiction, of the dolphin that carried a boy on its back and played with the children of the colony until the magistrates’ crowds destroyed it — handed to Caninius Rufus to make into verse, and rendered here at the full amplitude of its wonder. Around them stand the matters that have run through all nine books: the two great letters on how Pliny orders his day, the summer at the Tuscan villa (9.36) and the changes of the Laurentine winter (9.40); the long defense of the sublime in oratory to Lupercus, thick with quotations from Demosthenes and Aeschines (9.26); the literary self-consciousness of the letters on his own fame, when a stranger asks Tacitus whether he is Tacitus or Pliny (9.23); the warm pair to Sabinianus on the runaway freedman, pleaded for and forgiven (9.21, 9.24), among the most humane things Pliny wrote; and the closing note to Mustius on rebuilding the temple of Ceres on his estate (9.39). The book ends not with a flourish but with the quiet ledger of a writer’s days, as if the collection meant to close on the routine of study itself.

Book 10 stands apart from the nine. It is the official file of Pliny’s governorship of Bithynia-Pontus (c. AD 110–112), the dossier of letters he sent the emperor and the replies he received, published after his death and very likely without the polishing he gave the rest. The register shifts accordingly: not the cultivated ease of the private books but the formal, deferential, exact idiom of a conscientious administrator reporting to his princeps — Pliny addressing Trajan as domine, “lord,” Trajan answering, often crisply, with the affectionate “my dear Secundus.” The first letters are earlier, a sheaf of petitions and thanks from before the legateship (the right of three children, citizenship for his doctor Harpocras, a priesthood, congratulation on the Dacian victory); from 10.15 the Bithynian correspondence proper begins, and with it the texture that makes the book the single richest source for how the Roman empire was actually governed at ground level. Pliny refers everything upward: prison guards and runaway recruits, the bankrupt aqueducts and cracking theatre of Nicomedia and Nicaea, a fire that consumes a city while the crowd stands watching (and Trajan’s wary refusal of a fire-brigade, lest any guild become a political club), the canal scheme between lake and sea, the disputed accounts of Apamea, the moving of a temple of the Great Mother, the foundlings called threptoi, the philosopher Dio of Prusa and his family tombs, the entrance-fees of town councillors, the pensions of athletes. Two letters above all have made the book famous: 10.96, Pliny’s report on how he tried the Christians brought before him — the earliest detailed external account of Christian worship, the pre-dawn hymn “to Christ as to a god” and the oath against theft and adultery, which he calls a “depraved and immoderate superstition” — and Trajan’s measured reply (10.97): they are not to be sought out; anonymous accusations are to be ignored; those who recant by sacrificing are to be pardoned. The book closes, fittingly for so dutiful a file, on a small domestic exception: Pliny confessing that he has lent an imperial travel-warrant, for the first time on private business, to speed his wife Calpurnia to a grieving aunt — and Trajan’s warm assurance that he was right to trust him.

The reader meets that voice already conscious of posterity. Pliny writes under Trajan but remembers Domitian: the delators, the treason trials, the exiles of the philosophers cast their shadow across the early letters even when the surface is light. The salutations (“Gaius Plinius to his friend So-and-so, greetings”), absent from the manuscript source text used here, are supplied from the editorial tradition; the elliptical inside-references — a friend named without explanation, a lawsuit alluded to as already known — are left as Pliny left them, with the context carried, per this edition’s apparatus discipline, in the glossary rather than the body. The translation preserves the deliberate finish of the periodic sentences and the closing flourishes by which each letter rounds itself off, and renders the embedded Greek tags and verse quotations (Homer, Eupolis, Aristophanes) in English while the glossary identifies their sources.

You have often urged me to collect and publish whatever letters I had written with a little more care than usual. I have collected them, keeping no order of time — for I was not composing a history — but as each came to hand.
Frequenter hortatus es, ut epistulas, si quas paulo curatius scripsissem, colligerem publicaremque. Collegi non servato temporis ordine - neque enim historiam componebam -, sed ut quaeque in manus venerat.
It remains only that neither you regret your advice nor I my compliance. For so it will come about that I shall seek out those that still lie neglected, and shall not suppress any I may yet add. Farewell.
Superest ut nec te consilii nec me paeniteat obsequii. Ita enim fiet, ut eas quae adhuc neglectae iacent requiram et si quas addidero non supprimam. Vale.
Since I foresee that your arrival will be later than I had hoped, I send you the book I had promised in earlier letters. I ask you to read and correct it, as is your custom — the more so because I seem to have written nothing before with quite the same emulous zeal.
Quia tardiorem adventum tuum prospicio, librum quem prioribus epistulis promiseram exhibeo. Hunc rogo ex consuetudine tua et legas et emendes, eo magis quod nihil ante peraeque eodem ζήλῳ scripsisse videor.
For I have tried to imitate Demosthenes, your favorite always, and Calvus, lately mine — only in the figures of speech; for the force of such great men, "a few, whom favoring Jove has loved," can attain.
Temptavi enim imitari Demosthenen semper tuum, Calvum nuper meum, dumtaxat figuris orationis; nam vim tantorum virorum, ’pauci quos aequus...’ assequi possunt.
Nor did the subject itself resist this rivalry — I fear to call it that too boldly — for it lay almost wholly in the heat of contention, which roused me where I slept in a long idleness, if indeed I am one who can be roused at all.
Nec materia ipsa huic - vereor ne improbe dicam - aemulationi repugnavit: erat enim prope tota in contentione dicendi, quod me longae desidiae indormientem excitavit, si modo is sum ego qui excitari possim.
Yet I did not altogether shun the ornate flourishes of our Cicero, whenever the not-untimely beauties of the road tempted me to turn a little aside from it: for I wished to be keen, not grim.
Non tamen omnino Marci nostri ληκύτηους fugimus, quotiens paulum itinere decedere non intempestivis amoenitatibus admonebamur: acres enim esse non tristes volebamus.
And you need not suppose that under this reservation I am begging indulgence. For, to set the keener edge upon your file, I will confess that I myself, and my companions too, do not shrink from publishing — if only you should perhaps add your white pebble to our mistake.
Nec est quod putes me sub hac exceptione veniam postulare. Nam quo magis intendam limam tuam, confitebor et ipsum me et contubernales ab editione non abhorrere, si modo tu fortasse errori nostro album calculum adieceris.
For something certainly must be published — and would it were this, above all, which lies ready! You hear the prayer of an idle man. But published it must be, for several reasons, chiefly because the little books I have already sent out are said to be still in people’s hands, though by now they have shed the grace of novelty — unless, that is, the booksellers are flattering my ears. But let them flatter, by all means, so long as by that lie they make my studies dear to me. Farewell.
Est enim plane aliquid edendum - atque utinam hoc potissimum quod paratum est! Audis desidiae votum - edendum autem ex pluribus causis, maxime quod libelli quos emisimus dicuntur in manibus esse, quamvis iam gratiam novitatis exuerint; nisi tamen auribus nostris bibliopolae blandiuntur. Sed sane blandiantur, dum per hoc mendacium nobis studia nostra commendent. Vale.
How fares Comum, the darling of us both? And the most charming villa outside the town, the colonnade where it is always spring, the most shadowy plane-grove, the channel green and gleaming as a jewel, the lake below that lies obedient at your service, the soft yet firm walk for riding, the bath that the full sun floods and circles, the dining-rooms for the crowd and the dining-rooms for a few, the chambers for day and for night? Do they keep you, and share you among them by turns?
Quid agit Comum, tuae meaeque deliciae? quid suburbanum amoenissimum, quid illa porticus verna semper, quid platanon opacissimus, quid euripus viridis et gemmeus, quid subiectus et serviens lacus, quid illa mollis et tamen solida gestatio, quid balineum illud quod plurimus sol implet et circumit, quid triclinia illa popularia illa paucorum, quid cubicula diurna nocturna? Possident te et per vices partiuntur?
Or, as you used to do, are you carried off by frequent excursions in the running of your estate? If they keep you, you are blessed and happy; if not, you are "one of the many."
An, ut solebas, intentione rei familiaris obeundae crebris excursionibus avocaris? Si possident, felix beatusque es; si minus, ’unus e multis’.
Why not — the time is ripe — commit those low and sordid cares to others, and claim yourself for study in that deep and fertile retreat? Let this be your business and your leisure, this your labor and your rest; in these let your waking hours, in these even your sleep, be laid up.
Quin tu - tempus enim - humiles et sordidas curas aliis mandas, et ipse te in alto isto pinguique secessu studiis asseris? Hoc sit negotium tuum hoc otium; hic labor haec quies; in his vigilia, in his etiam somnus reponatur.
Fashion something, hammer something out, that may be yours forever. For the rest of your possessions will fall, after you, to one master and another; this will never cease to be yours, once it has begun to be.
Effinge aliquid et excude, quod sit perpetuo tuum. Nam reliqua rerum tuarum post te alium atque alium dominum sortientur, hoc numquam tuum desinet esse si semel coeperit.
I know what mind, what talent, I am urging on; only strive to count yourself worth as much as you will seem to others, if you have first counted yourself worth it. Farewell.
Scio quem animum, quod horter ingenium; tu modo enitere ut tibi ipse sis tanti, quanti videberis aliis si tibi fueris. Vale.
What abundance there is on your estate at Ocriculum, at Narnia, at Carsulae, at your place near Perusia — and at Narnia a bath besides! From my letters — for now your own are not needed: that one short note of yours is enough, and true.
Quantum copiarum in Ocriculano, in Narniensi, in Carsulano, in Perusino tuo, in Narniensi vero etiam balineum! Ex epistulis meis, nam iam tuis opus non est: una illa brevis et verus sufficit.
Upon my word, what is mine is not so much mine as what is yours; yet they differ in this, that your people receive me more anxiously and attentively than my own. The same will perhaps befall you, if you ever turn aside to a house of mine.
Non mehercule tam mea sunt quae mea sunt, quam quae tua; hoc tamen differunt, quod sollicitius et intentius tui me quam mei excipiunt. Idem fortasse eveniet tibi, si quando in nostra deverteris.
And I should wish you to do so: first, that you may enjoy my things as I do yours; and next, that my own people may wake up at last, who wait for me at their ease and almost negligently.
Quod velim facias, primum ut perinde nostris rebus ac nos tuis perfruaris, deinde ut mei expergiscantur aliquando, qui me secure ac prope neglegenter exspectant.
For under gentle masters the slaves’ fear wears away by sheer habit; it is by new arrivals that they are roused, and they labor to prove themselves to their master by serving others rather than himself. Farewell.
Nam mitium dominorum apud servos ipsa consuetudine metus exolescit; novitatibus excitantur, probarique dominis per alios magis quam per ipsos laborant. Vale.
Have you ever seen anyone more cowering, more abject, than Marcus Regulus has been since the death of Domitian — under whom he had committed crimes no smaller than under Nero, only better hidden? He began to fear that I was angry with him; nor was he mistaken: I was angry.
Vidistine quemquam M. Regulo timidiorem humiliorem post Domitiani mortem? Sub quo non minora flagitia commiserat quam sub Nerone sed tectiora. Coepit vereri ne sibi irascerer, nec fallebatur: irascebar.
He had fostered the danger of Arulenus Rusticus, had exulted in his death — so far indeed that he recited and published a book in which he assails Rusticus and even calls him "the apes’ Stoic," and adds that he was "branded with the Vitellian scar" — you recognize the eloquence of Regulus —;
Rustici Aruleni periculum foverat, exsultaverat morte; adeo ut librum recitaret publicaretque, in quo Rusticum insectatur atque etiam ’Stoicorum simiam’ appellat, adicit ’Vitelliana cicatrice stigmosum’ - agnoscis eloquentiam Reguli -,
he mangles Herennius Senecio so intemperately that Mettius Carus said to him, "What have you to do with my dead? Did I ever trouble Crassus or Camerinus?" — men whom Regulus had accused under Nero.
lacerat Herennium Senecionem tam intemperanter quidem, ut dixerit ei Mettius Carus ’Quid tibi cum meis mortuis? Numquid ego Crasso aut Camerino molestus sum?’ quos ille sub Nerone accusaverat.
Regulus believed that I had borne all this with grief, and for that reason had not even invited me when he recited the book. Besides, he remembered how mortally he had once assailed me before the Hundred Men.
Haec me Regulus dolenter tulisse credebat, ideoque etiam cum recitaret librum non adhibuerat. Praeterea reminiscebatur, quam capitaliter ipsum me apud centumviros lacessisset.
I was appearing for Arrionilla, the wife of Timon, at the request of Arulenus Rusticus; Regulus was on the other side. We were resting part of our case on a ruling of Mettius Modestus, that most excellent man, who was then in exile, banished by Domitian. Here is Regulus for you: "I ask you, Secundus," he says, "what you think of Modestus." You see the peril, had I answered "well"; the disgrace, had I answered "ill." I can say nothing else than that the gods stood by me then. "I will answer," said I, "if the Hundred Men are to judge of that." Again he: "I ask, what do you think of Modestus."
Aderam Arrionillae Timonis uxori, rogatu Aruleni Rustici; Regulus contra. Nitebamur nos in parte causae sententia Metti Modesti optimi viri: is tunc in exsilio erat, a Domitiano relegatus. Ecce tibi Regulus ’Quaero,’ inquit, ’Secunde, quid de Modesto sentias.’ Vides quod periculum, si respondissem ’bene’; quod flagitium si ’male’. Non possum dicere aliud tunc mihi quam deos adfuisse. ’Respondebo’ inquam ’si de hoc centumviri iudicaturi sunt.’ Rursus ille: ’Quaero, quid de Modesto sentias.’
A second time I: "Witnesses used to be questioned about the accused, not about the condemned." A third time he: "I no longer ask what you think of Modestus, but what you think of the loyalty of Modestus."
Iterum ego: ’Solebant testes in reos, non in damnatos interrogari.’ Tertio ille: ’Non iam quid de Modesto, sed quid de pietate Modesti sentias quaero.
"You ask," said I, "what I think; but I hold it unlawful even to put a question about a man on whom sentence has been passed." He fell silent; and praise and congratulation followed me, because I had neither marred my good name by an answer perhaps useful but dishonorable, nor entangled myself in the snares of so insidious a question.
’Quaeris’ inquam ’quid sentiam; at ego ne interrogare quidem fas puto, de quo pronuntiatum est.’ Conticuit; me laus et gratulatio secuta est, quod nec famam meam aliquo responso utili fortasse, inhonesto tamen laeseram, nec me laqueis tam insidiosae interrogationis involveram.
So now, terrified by his own conscience, he lays hold of Caecilius Celer, then of Fabius Justus; he begs them to reconcile me to him. Not content with that, he makes his way to Spurinna; to him, suppliant as he ever is when he fears, at his most abject: "I beg you, see Pliny at his house in the morning — but quite early, for I cannot bear my anxiety any longer — and bring it about, by whatever means, that he be not angry with me."
Nunc ergo conscientia exterritus apprehendit Caecilium Celerem, mox Fabium Iustum; rogat ut me sibi reconcilient. Nec contentus pervenit ad Spurinnam; huic suppliciter, ut est cum timet abiectissimus: ’Rogo mane videas Plinium domi, sed plane mane - neque enim ferre diutius sollicitudinem possum -, et quoquo modo efficias, ne mihi irascatur.’
I had woken; a messenger from Spurinna: "I am coming to you." "No, I to you." We met in the colonnade of Livia, each making for the other. He sets out Regulus’ commission, adds his own entreaties, sparingly, as became so excellent a man pleading for one so unlike him. To whom I: "You yourself will judge what you think fit to report to Regulus.
Evigilaveram; nuntius a Spurinna: ’Venio ad te.’ ’Immo ego ad te.’ Coimus in porticum Liviae, cum alter ad alterum tenderemus. Exponit Reguli mandata, addit preces suas, ut decebat optimum virum pro dissimillimo, parce. Cui ego: ’Dispicies ipse quid renuntiandum Regulo putes.
You ought not to be deceived by me. I am awaiting Mauricus" — he had not yet returned from exile — "and so I can give you no answer one way or the other, since I shall do whatever he decides; for it is fitting that he be the leader of this counsel, and I his follower."
Te decipi a me non oportet. Exspecto Mauricum’ - nondum ab exsilio venerat -: ’ideo nihil alterutram in partem respondere tibi possum, facturus quidquid ille decreverit; illum enim esse huius consilii ducem, me comitem decet.’
A few days after, Regulus himself came upon me at the praetor’s levee; pursuing me there, he asked to speak in private. He said he feared there clung deep in my mind something he had once said in a hearing before the Hundred Men, when, answering me and Satrius Rufus, he had said: "Satrius Rufus, who has no rivalry with Cicero, and who is content with the eloquence of our own age."
Paucos post dies ipse me Regulus convenit in praetoris officio; illuc persecutus secretum petit; ait timere se ne animo meo penitus haereret, quod in centumvirali iudicio aliquando dixisset, cum responderet mihi et Satrio Rufo: ’Satrius Rufus, cui non est cum Cicerone aemulatio et qui contentus est eloquentia saeculi nostri’.
I answered that I now understood it to have been said with malice, since he himself confessed it; but that it might otherwise have been taken as a compliment. "For I do," said I, "have a rivalry with Cicero, and I am not content with the eloquence of our age;
Respondi nunc me intellegere maligne dictum quia ipse confiteretur, ceterum potuisse honorificum existimari. ’Est enim’ inquam ’mihi cum Cicerone aemulatio, nec sum contentus eloquentia saeculi nostri;
for I think it the height of folly not to set before oneself the very best for imitation. But you, who remember that hearing, why have you forgotten the other, in which you asked me what I thought of the loyalty of Mettius Modestus?" He turned notably pale — though he is always pale — and, stammering: "I asked not to harm you, but Modestus." Mark the cruelty of the man, who does not even hide that he meant to harm an exile.
nam stultissimum credo ad imitandum non optima quaeque proponere. Sed tu qui huius iudicii meministi, cur illius oblitus es, in quo me interrogasti, quid de Metti Modesti pietate sentirem?’ Expalluit notabiliter, quamvis palleat semper, et haesitabundus: ’Interrogavi non ut tibi nocerem, sed ut Modesto.’ Vide hominis crudelitatem, qui se non dissimulet exsuli nocere voluisse.
He added a fine reason: "He wrote," said he, "in a certain letter, which was read aloud before Domitian: ’Regulus, the vilest of all two-legged creatures’ " — which Modestus had indeed written most truly.
Subiunxit egregiam causam: ’Scripsit’ inquit ’in epistula quadam, quae apud Domitianum recitata est: "Regulus, omnium bipedum nequissimus"’; quod quidem Modestus verissime scripserat.
Here was about the end of our talk; for I did not wish to go further, that I might keep all my options free until Mauricus came. Nor does it escape me that Regulus is hard to bring down; for he is rich, a maker of factions, courted by many, feared by more — and fear is commonly stronger than love.
Hic fere nobis sermonis terminus; neque enim volui progredi longius, ut mihi omnia libera servarem dum Mauricus venit. Nec me praeterit esse Regulum ’ δυσκαθαίρετον ’; est enim locuples factiosus, curatur a multis, timetur a pluribus, quod plerumque fortius amore est.
Yet it may happen that these things, once shaken, give way; for the favor of bad men is as faithless as they are themselves. But, to say the same thing again and again, I am awaiting Mauricus. He is a man of weight and prudence, schooled by many trials, and able to foresee the future from the past. With him as my adviser I shall settle my course, whether to attempt something or to keep still.
Potest tamen fieri ut haec concussa labantur; nam gratia malorum tam infida est quam ipsi. Verum, ut idem saepius dicam, exspecto Mauricum. Vir est gravis prudens, multis experimentis eruditus et qui futura possit ex praeteritis providere. Mihi et temptandi aliquid et quiescendi illo auctore ratio constabit.
I have written you this because it was fair that, by our mutual love, you should know not only all my deeds and words, but my plans as well. Farewell.
Haec tibi scripsi, quia aequum erat te pro amore mutuo non solum omnia mea facta dictaque, verum etiam consilia cognoscere. Vale.
You will laugh, and you may laugh. I — the very man you know — have taken three boars, and very fine ones at that. "You yourself?" you ask. I myself; yet without quite parting from my idleness and quiet. I was sitting by the nets; at hand was no hunting-spear or lance, but a stylus and writing-tablets. I was thinking something over and making notes, so that, if I brought my hands back empty, I might bring back my tablets full.
Ridebis, et licet rideas. Ego, ille quem nosti, apros tres et quidem pulcherrimos cepi. ’Ipse?’ inquis. Ipse; non tamen ut omnino ab inertia mea et quiete discederem. Ad retia sedebam; erat in proximo non venabulum aut lancea, sed stilus et pugillares; meditabar aliquid enotabamque, ut si manus vacuas, plenas tamen ceras reportarem.
There is no reason to despise this way of studying; it is wonderful how the mind is stirred by the body’s movement and motion; and besides, the woods all round, the solitude, and the very silence that hunting grants are great spurs to thought.
Non est quod contemnas hoc studendi genus; mirum est ut animus agitatione motuque corporis excitetur; iam undique silvae et solitudo ipsumque illud silentium quod venationi datur, magna cogitationis incitamenta sunt.
So, when next you hunt, you may, on my authority, carry your tablets along with your bread-basket and your flask: you will find that Minerva no less than Diana walks the hills. Farewell.
Proinde cum venabere, licebit auctore me ut panarium et lagunculam sic etiam pugillares feras: experieris non Dianam magis montibus quam Minervam inerrare. Vale.
See on what a height you have set me, when you gave me the same power and the same sway that Homer gave to Jupiter Best and Greatest: "the one the Father granted him, the other he denied."
Vide in quo me fastigio collocaris, cum mihi idem potestatis idemque regni dederis quod Homerus Iovi Optimo Maximo: τῷ δʼἕτερον μὲν ἔδωκε πατήρ ἕτερον δʼ ἀνένευσεν
For I too can answer your request with a like nod and shake of the head. Since it is allowed me — especially at your bidding — to excuse myself from acting as advocate for the people of Baetica against a single man, so it agrees neither with my good faith nor with that constancy you love, to appear against a province which I have bound to me by so many services, so many labors, and even so many dangers of my own.
Nam ego quoque simili nutu ac renutu respondere voto tuo possum. Etenim, sicut fas est mihi, praesertim te exigente, excusare Baeticis contra unum hominem advocationem, ita nec fidei nostrae nec constantiae quam diligis convenit, adesse contra provinciam quam tot officiis, tot laboribus, tot etiam periculis meis aliquando devinxerim.
I shall therefore hold to this middle course: that of the two things, of which you ask one or the other, I shall choose the one in which I may satisfy not only your wish but your judgment. For I must not so much weigh what you, the best of men, want at the moment, as what you will always approve.
Tenebo ergo hoc temperamentum, ut ex duobus, quorum alterutrum petis, eligam id potius, in quo non solum studio tuo verum etiam iudicio satisfaciam. Neque enim tantopere mihi considerandum est, quid vir optimus in praesentia velis, quam quid semper sis probaturus.
I hope to be in Rome about the Ides of October, and there to confirm all this in person, on your good faith and mine, to Gallus; to whom even now you may pledge my mind: "and with his dark brows he nodded assent."
Me circa Idus Octobris spero Romae futurum, eademque haec praesentem quoque tua meaque fide Gallo confirmaturum; cui tamen iam nunc licet spondeas de animo meo ἦ καὶ κυανέῃσιν ἐπʼ ὀφρύσι νεῦσε.
For why should I not deal with you throughout in Homer’s verses? — since you will not let me deal in yours, for which I burn with such longing that I think I could be bribed by this fee alone, to appear even against the men of Baetica.
Cur enim non usquequaque Homericis versibus agam tecum? quatenus tu me tuis agere non pateris, quorum tanta cupiditate ardeo, ut videar mihi hac sola mercede posse corrumpi, ut vel contra Baeticos adsim.
I nearly passed over what should least of all have been passed over: that I have received the excellent dates, which must now contend with the figs and mushrooms. Farewell.
Paene praeterii, quod minime praetereundum fuit, accepisse me careotas optimas, quae nunc cum ficis et boletis certandum habent. Vale.
Most opportunely your letter was delivered to me, in which you demanded that I send you something of my writings, just when I had resolved upon that very thing. You have therefore set spurs to a horse already running, and have at once taken from yourself the excuse of declining the labor and from me the modesty of pressing it.
Peropportune mihi redditae sunt litterae tuae quibus flagitabas, ut tibi aliquid ex scriptis meis mitterem, cum ego id ipsum destinassem. Addidisti ergo calcaria sponte currenti, pariterque et tibi veniam recusandi laboris et mihi exigendi verecundiam sustulisti.
For it neither becomes me to use timidly what was offered, nor you to grudge what you asked for. Yet you must not expect any new work from an idle man. I am going to ask that you once more give your leisure to a speech I delivered before my townsmen at the dedication of a library.
Nam nec me timide uti decet eo quod oblatum est, nec te gravari quod depoposcisti. Non est tamen quod ab homine desidioso aliquid novi operis exspectes. Petiturus sum enim ut rursus vaces sermoni quem apud municipes meos habui bibliothecam dedicaturus.
I remember, indeed, that you have already made some notes, but in a general way; so now I ask you not only to attend to the whole of it, but to go over its particular passages with the file you are wont to use. For even after the correction it will be free to me either to publish or to withhold it.
Memini quidem te iam quaedam adnotasse, sed generaliter; ideo nunc rogo ut non tantum universitati eius attendas, verum etiam particulas qua soles lima persequaris. Erit enim et post emendationem liberum nobis vel publicare vel continere.
Nay rather, this very hesitation of mine may perhaps be brought to one decision or the other by the act of correcting, which, by handling it again and again, will either find it unworthy of publication, or, by the very trial, make it worthy.
Quin immo fortasse hanc ipsam cunctationem nostram in alterutram sententiam emendationis ratio deducet, quae aut indignum editione dum saepius retractat inveniet, aut dignum dum id ipsum experitur efficiet.
And yet the causes of my hesitation lie not so much in the writing as in the very nature of the subject: it is a little, as it were, boastful and lofty. This will burden my modesty, even though the style itself be plain and subdued, since I am compelled to discourse both of my parents’ munificence and of my own.
Quamquam huius cunctationis meae causae non tam in scriptis quam in ipso materiae genere consistunt: est enim paulo quasi gloriosius et elatius. Onerabit hoc modestiam nostram, etiamsi stilus ipse pressus demissusque fuerit, propterea quod cogimur cum de munificentia parentum nostrorum tum de nostra disputare.
This is a slippery place and full of risk, even when necessity smooths the way for it. For if even the praises of others are commonly heard with unfriendly ears, how hard it is to keep a man’s speech from seeming offensive when he discourses of himself or of his own! For we begrudge merit, and rather more its proclamation and renown; and we twist and carp at no good deeds so little as those that are laid away in obscurity and silence.
Anceps hic et lubricus locus est, etiam cum illi necessitas lenocinatur. Etenim si alienae quoque laudes parum aequis auribus accipi solent, quam difficile est obtinere, ne molesta videatur oratio de se aut de suis disserentis! Nam cum ipsi honestati tum aliquanto magis gloriae eius praedicationique invidemus, atque ea demum recte facta minus detorquemus et carpimus, quae in obscuritate et silentio reponuntur.
For which reason I have often debated within myself whether I composed this thing, whatever it is, for myself alone, or owed it to others too. That it was for myself, this reminds me: that most of the things needful while a matter is being done lose, once it is done, both their use and their charm alike.
Qua ex causa saepe ipse mecum, nobisne tantum, quidquid est istud, composuisse an et aliis debeamus. Ut nobis, admonet illud, quod pleraque quae sunt agendae rei necessaria, eadem peracta nec utilitatem parem nec gratiam retinent.
And, not to fetch examples from afar, what was more useful than to follow up the account of my munificence even with the pen? For by this I attained, first, to dwell on honorable thoughts; next, to perceive their beauty in a longer handling; and last, to guard against the regret that attends a sudden largess. There was bred from this a certain practice in despising money.
Ac, ne longius exempla repetamus, quid utilius fuit quam munificentiae rationem etiam stilo prosequi? Per hoc enim assequebamur, primum ut honestis cogitationibus immoraremur, deinde ut pulchritudinem illarum longiore tractatu pervideremus, postremo ut subitae largitionis comitem paenitentiam caveremus. Nascebatur ex his exercitatio quaedam contemnendae pecuniae.
For whereas nature has bound all men to the keeping of it, with me, on the contrary, a love of liberality long and much pondered was loosing the common chains of avarice; and my munificence seemed likely to be the more praiseworthy, in that I was drawn to it not by some impulse, but by deliberation.
Nam cum omnes homines ad custodiam eius natura restrinxerit, nos contra multum ac diu pensitatus amor liberalitatis communibus avaritiae vinculis eximebat, tantoque laudabilior munificentia nostra fore videbatur, quod ad illam non impetu quodam, sed consilio trahebamur.
To these reasons was added that I was promising not games or gladiators, but a yearly sum for the maintenance of freeborn children. Now the pleasures of the eyes and ears so little need commending that they ought rather to be checked by a speech than urged on by it;
Accedebat his causis, quod non ludos aut gladiatores sed annuos sumptus in alimenta ingenuorum pollicebamur. Oculorum porro et aurium voluptates adeo non egent commendatione, ut non tam incitari debeant oratione quam reprimi;
but that anyone should gladly take up the tedium and toil of rearing children must be won not by rewards only, but by carefully chosen exhortations.
ut vero aliquis libenter educationis taedium laboremque suscipiat, non praemiis modo verum etiam exquisitis adhortationibus impetrandum est.
For if physicians accompany wholesome but unpleasant food with coaxing words, how much more did it befit one consulting the public good to commend by graciousness of speech a most useful service, but one not equally popular? — especially as I had to strive that what was given to parents should be approved by the childless as well, and that the rest should patiently both await and earn an honor given to a few.
Nam si medici salubres sed voluptate carentes cibos blandioribus alloquiis prosequuntur, quanto magis decuit publice consulentem utilissimum munus, sed non perinde populare, comitate orationis inducere? praesertim cum enitendum haberemus, ut quod parentibus dabatur et orbis probaretur, honoremque paucorum ceteri patienter et exspectarent et mererentur.
But just as then I was studying the common good rather than my private vainglory, when I wished the aim and effect of my gift to be understood, so now, in the matter of publishing, I fear lest I may seem to have served not others’ interests but my own praise.
Sed ut tunc communibus magis commodis quam privatae iactantiae studebamus, cum intentionem effectumque muneris nostri vellemus intellegi, ita nunc in ratione edendi veremur, ne forte non aliorum utilitatibus sed propriae laudi servisse videamur.
Besides, I remember how much more nobly the fruit of virtue is laid up in conscience than in fame. Glory ought to follow, not to be sought; nor, if by some chance it does not follow, is the deed that deserved glory any the less fair.
Praeterea meminimus quanto maiore animo honestatis fructus in conscientia quam in fama reponatur. Sequi enim gloria, non appeti debet, nec, si casu aliquo non sequatur, idcirco quod gloriam meruit minus pulchrum est.
But those who deck out their own good deeds with words are believed to proclaim them not because they did them, but to have done them in order to proclaim them. So what would have been splendid if another reported it loses its luster when the doer himself recounts it; for men, when they cannot pull down the deed, attack the parade of it. Thus, if you do what should be kept silent, the deed itself is blamed; if you do not keep silent what is praiseworthy, you yourself are blamed.
Ii vero, qui benefacta sua verbis adornant, non ideo praedicare quia fecerint, sed ut praedicarent fecisse creduntur. Sic quod magnificum referente alio fuisset, ipso qui gesserat recensente vanescit; homines enim cum rem destruere non possunt, iactationem eius incessunt. Ita si silenda feceris, factum ipsum, si laudanda non sileas, ipse culparis.
In my own case, moreover, a peculiar consideration stands in the way. For I delivered this very speech not before the people, but before the decurions; not in the open, but in the senate-house.
Me vero peculiaris quaedam impedit ratio. Etenim hunc ipsum sermonem non apud populum, sed apud decuriones habui, nec in propatulo sed in curia.
I fear, then, that it may not square well, that — having in the speaking shunned the assent and applause of the crowd — I should now in publishing court that very thing; and that — having separated the common people themselves, for whose sake I was deliberating, from the council-chamber by its threshold and walls, lest I fall into any appearance of self-seeking — I should now hunt out even those to whom nothing from my gift concerns them save the example, by a parade, as it were, thrust before them.
Vereor ergo ut sit satis congruens, cum in dicendo assentationem vulgi acclamationemque defugerim, nunc eadem illa editione sectari, cumque plebem ipsam, cui consulebatur, limine curiae parietibusque discreverim, ne quam in speciem ambitionis inciderem, nunc eos etiam, ad quos ex munere nostro nihil pertinet praeter exemplum, velut obvia ostentatione conquirere.
You have the reasons for my hesitation; yet I will yield to your counsel, whose authority will stand me in stead of a reason. Farewell.
Habes cunctationis meae causas; obsequar tamen consilio tuo, cuius mihi auctoritas pro ratione sufficiet. Vale.
It is wonderful how, on any single day in the city, the account either balances or seems to balance, but over many days joined together does not balance.
Mirum est quam singulis diebus in urbe ratio aut constet aut constare videatur, pluribus iunctisque non constet.
For if you ask anyone, "What have you done today?", he will answer: "I attended a coming-of-age, I went to a betrothal or a wedding; one man asked me to witness his will, another to support him in court, another to sit on his council."
Nam si quem interroges ’Hodie quid egisti?’, respondeat: ’Officio togae virilis interfui, sponsalia aut nuptias frequentavi, ille me ad signandum testamentum, ille in advocationem, ille in consilium rogavit.’
These things, on the day you do them, seem necessary; the same, if you reckon that you have done them every day, seem empty — far more so when you have withdrawn to the country. For then the recollection comes: "How many days I have wasted on how chill a business!"
Haec quo die feceris, necessaria, eadem, si cotidie fecisse te reputes, inania videntur, multo magis cum secesseris. Tunc enim subit recordatio: ’Quot dies quam frigidis rebus absumpsi!’
This is what happens to me, after I am at my Laurentine place and either read something, or write, or even attend to my body, by whose support the mind is held up.
Quod evenit mihi, postquam in Laurentino meo aut lego aliquid aut scribo aut etiam corpori vaco, cuius fulturis animus sustinetur.
I hear nothing I should be sorry to have heard, I say nothing I should be sorry to have said; before me no one carps at anyone with malicious talk, I myself blame no one — unless myself, when I write with too little success; I am vexed by no hope, no fear, disquieted by no rumors: I talk only with myself and with my books.
Nihil audio quod audisse, nihil dico quod dixisse paeniteat; nemo apud me quemquam sinistris sermonibus carpit, neminem ipse reprehendo, nisi tamen me cum parum commode scribo; nulla spe nullo timore sollicitor, nullis rumoribus inquietor: mecum tantum et cum libellis loquor.
O upright and unfeigned life! O sweet leisure, honorable and almost fairer than any business! O sea, O shore, true and secret haunt of the Muses, how many things you discover, how many you dictate!
O rectam sinceramque vitam! O dulce otium honestumque ac paene omni negotio pulchrius! O mare, o litus, verum secretumque μουσεῖον, quam multa invenitis, quam multa dictatis!
Therefore do you too, as soon as the chance comes, leave that din and empty bustle and those wholly idle labors, and give yourself to study or to leisure.
Proinde tu quoque strepitum istum inanemque discursum et multum ineptos labores, ut primum fuerit occasio, relinque teque studiis vel otio trade.
For it is better, as our friend Atilius said most learnedly and wittily at once, to be at leisure than to do nothing. Farewell.
Satius est enim, ut Atilius noster eruditissime simul et facetissime dixit, otiosum esse quam nihil agere. Vale.
If ever our city flourished in the liberal studies, now above all it flourishes.
Si quando urbs nostra liberalibus studiis floruit, nunc maxime floret.
There are many bright examples; one would suffice — Euphrates the philosopher. Him I came to know thoroughly and at home in Syria, when I was serving there as a young man, and I labored to be loved by him — though there was no need to labor for it. For he is approachable and open, and full of that humanity which he teaches.
Multa claraque exempla sunt; sufficeret unum, Euphrates philosophus. Hunc ego in Syria, cum adulescentulus militarem, penitus et domi inspexi, amarique ab eo laboravi, etsi non erat laborandum. Est enim obvius et expositus, plenusque humanitate quam praecipit.
And would that I had fulfilled the hope he then conceived of me, as much as he himself has added to his own virtues! — or rather, that I now admire them the more because I understand them the more.
Atque utinam sic ipse quam spem tunc ille de me concepit impleverim, ut ille multum virtutibus suis addidit! aut ego nunc illas magis miror quia magis intellego.
And yet not even now do I understand them well enough; for as none but an artist can judge a painter, a sculptor, a modeler, so none but a wise man can discern the wise.
Quamquam ne nunc quidem satis intellego; ut enim de pictore scalptore fictore nisi artifex iudicare, ita nisi sapiens non potest perspicere sapientem.
Yet so far as it is given me to see, many things in Euphrates stand out and shine so that they strike and move even the moderately learned. He argues subtly, weightily, with ornament; and often he reproduces that Platonic loftiness and breadth. His speech is abundant and varied, sweet above all, and such as to draw and drive even the reluctant.
Quantum tamen mihi cernere datur, multa in Euphrate sic eminent et elucent, ut mediocriter quoque doctos advertant et afficiant. Disputat subtiliter graviter ornate, frequenter etiam Platonicam illam sublimitatem et latitudinem effingit. Sermo est copiosus et varius, dulcis in primis, et qui repugnantes quoque ducat impellat.
Add to this his tall stature, his comely face, his long hair, his great white beard; which, though they may be thought accidents and trifles, yet win him much reverence.
Ad hoc proceritas corporis, decora facies, demissus capillus, ingens et cana barba; quae licet fortuita et inania putentur, illi tamen plurimum venerationis acquirunt.
There is no roughness in his dress, no gloom, but much gravity; you would revere him at meeting, not dread him. The holiness of his life is perfect; his courtesy equal to it: he assails vices, not men, and does not chastise the erring but mends them. You would follow his admonitions attentive and in suspense, and would long to be persuaded even when he has persuaded you.
Nullus horror in cultu, nulla tristitia, multum severitatis; reverearis occursum, non reformides. Vitae sanctitas summa; comitas par: insectatur vitia non homines, nec castigat errantes sed emendat. Sequaris monentem attentus et pendens, et persuaderi tibi etiam cum persuaserit cupias.
Then too there are three children, two of them sons, whom he has reared with the greatest care. His father-in-law is Pompeius Julianus, great and renowned in the rest of his life, and in this one thing above all: that, though himself the first man of his province and amid the highest matches, he chose for his daughter’s husband a man first not in honors but in wisdom.
Iam vero liberi tres, duo mares, quos diligentissime instituit. Socer Pompeius Iulianus, cum cetera vita tum vel hoc uno magnus et clarus, quod ipse provinciae princeps inter altissimas condiciones generum non honoribus principem, sed sapientia elegit.
But why say more of a man whom I am not allowed to enjoy? Is it that I may be the more pained that I am not allowed? For I am pulled apart by a duty as great as it is most irksome: I sit upon the tribunal, I countersign petitions, I make up accounts, I write a great many letters — but most unlettered ones.
Quamquam quid ego plura de viro quo mihi frui non licet? An ut magis angar quod non licet? Nam distringor officio, ut maximo sic molestissimo: sedeo pro tribunali, subnoto libellos, conficio tabulas, scribo plurimas sed illitteratissimas litteras.
I sometimes — for when does the chance come! — complain of these occupations to Euphrates. He consoles me; he even affirms that this is a part of philosophy, and indeed its fairest part — to conduct public business, to hear and to judge, to set forth and exercise justice, and to put into practice what the philosophers teach.
Soleo non numquam - nam id ipsum quando contingit! - de his occupationibus apud Euphraten queri. Ille me consolatur, affirmat etiam esse hanc philosophiae et quidem pulcherrimam partem, agere negotium publicum, cognoscere iudicare, promere et exercere iustitiam, quaeque ipsi doceant in usu habere.
Yet of this one thing he does not persuade me: that it is better to do these things than to spend whole days with him in hearing and learning. So the more do I urge you, who are free, when next you come to the city — and come the sooner for this — to give yourself to him, to be polished and filed.
Mihi tamen hoc unum non persuadet, satius esse ista facere quam cum illo dies totos audiendo discendoque consumere. Quo magis te cui vacat hortor, cum in urbem proxime veneris - venias autem ob hoc maturius -, illi te expoliendum limandumque permittas.
For I do not, as many do, envy others a good of which I am myself deprived; on the contrary, I feel a certain pleasure and delight, if I see those things abounding in my friends which are denied to me. Farewell.
Neque enim ego ut multi invideo aliis bono quo ipse careo, sed contra: sensum quendam voluptatemque percipio, si ea quae mihi denegantur amicis video superesse. Vale.
For a long while now you send me no letters. "There is nothing," you say, "that I have to write." Well, write me this very thing — that there is nothing you have to write; or only that with which our forefathers used to begin: "If you are well, it is well; I am well."
Olim mihi nullas epistulas mittis. Nihil est, inquis, quod scribam. At hoc ipsum scribe, nihil esse quod scribas, vel solum illud unde incipere priores solebant: ’Si vales, bene est; ego valeo.’
This is enough for me; for it is the most important thing. Do you think I am joking? I ask in earnest. Let me know what you are doing — which I cannot fail to know without the deepest anxiety. Farewell.
Hoc mihi sufficit; est enim maximum. Ludere me putas? serio peto. Fac sciam quid agas, quod sine sollicitudine summa nescire non possum. Vale.
I have suffered a most grievous loss, if loss is the word for the taking-away of so great a man. Corellius Rufus is dead — and by his own choice, which deepens my grief. For that is the most sorrowful kind of death which seems neither natural nor fated.
Iacturam gravissimam feci, si iactura dicenda est tanti viri amissio. Decessit Corellius Rufus et quidem sponte, quod dolorem meum exulcerat. Est enim luctuosissimum genus mortis, quae non ex natura nec fatalis videtur.
For however it be with those who are ended by disease, there is great solace in the very necessity of it; but in those whom a summoned death carries off, the grief is past healing, because they are believed to have been able to live long.
Nam utcumque in illis qui morbo finiuntur, magnum ex ipsa necessitate solacium est; in iis vero quos accersita mors aufert, hic insanabilis dolor est, quod creduntur potuisse diu vivere.
Corellius, indeed, was driven to this resolve by the highest reason — which to the wise stands in the place of necessity — though he had very many reasons for living: the best conscience, the best name, the greatest authority, and besides a daughter, a wife, a grandson, sisters, and, among so many dear pledges, true friends.
Corellium quidem summa ratio, quae sapientibus pro necessitate est, ad hoc consilium compulit, quamquam plurimas vivendi causas habentem, optimam conscientiam optimam famam, maximam auctoritatem, praeterea filiam uxorem nepotem sorores, interque tot pignora veros amicos.
But he was racked by so long and so cruel an illness that these great prizes of living were outweighed by the reasons for dying. In his thirty-third year, as I used to hear from himself, he was seized with gout in the feet. This was his by inheritance; for diseases too, like other things, are often handed down through a kind of succession.
Sed tam longa, tam iniqua valetudine conflictabatur, ut haec tanta pretia vivendi mortis rationibus vincerentur. Tertio et tricensimo anno, ut ipsum audiebam, pedum dolore correptus est. Patrius hic illi; nam plerumque morbi quoque per successiones quasdam ut alia traduntur.
This, while his years were green, he overcame and broke by abstinence and a pure life; at the last, as it grew heavier with age, he bore up against it by strength of mind, though he suffered incredible torments and most unworthy agonies.
Hunc abstinentia sanctitate, quoad viridis aetas, vicit et fregit; novissime cum senectute ingravescentem viribus animi sustinebat, cum quidem incredibiles cruciatus et indignissima tormenta pateretur.
For now the pain no longer, as before, sat in the feet alone, but ranged through all his limbs. I came to him in Domitian’s time, as he lay in his villa outside the city.
Iam enim dolor non pedibus solis ut prius insidebat, sed omnia membra pervagabatur. Veni ad eum Domitiani temporibus in suburbano iacentem.
His slaves withdrew from the chamber — this was his custom whenever a more trusted friend had entered; nay, even his wife, though most capable of any secret, would leave.
Servi e cubiculo recesserunt - habebat hoc moris, quotiens intrasset fidelior amicus -; quin etiam uxor quamquam omnis secreti capacissima digrediebatur.
He cast his eyes about and said: "Why do you think I endure these so great pains so long? — that I may outlive, if only by a single day, that brigand." Had you given a body to match this spirit, he would have done what he longed for. But a god was present to his prayer; and once master of it, as one now to die untroubled and free, he broke through those many but lesser ties to life.
Circumtulit oculos et ’Cur’ inquit ’me putas hos tantos dolores tam diu sustinere? - ut scilicet isti latroni vel uno die supersim.’ Dedisses huic animo par corpus, fecisset quod optabat. Adfuit tamen deus voto, cuius ille compos ut iam securus liberque moriturus, multa illa vitae sed minora retinacula abrupit.
The illness grew; he tried to soften it by temperance; when it persisted, he escaped it by constancy. Already a second day, a third, a fourth: he abstained from food. His wife Hispulla sent to me our common friend Gaius Geminius with the most sorrowful message: that Corellius was resolved to die, and was not to be bent by the prayers of his own people or his daughter; that I alone was left, by whom he might be called back to life.
Increverat valetudo, quam temperantia mitigare temptavit; perseverantem constantia fugit. Iam dies alter tertius quartus: abstinebat cibo. Misit ad me uxor eius Hispulla communem amicum C. Geminium cum tristissimo nuntio, destinasse Corellium mori nec aut suis aut filiae precibus inflecti; solum superesse me, a quo revocari posset ad vitam.
I ran. I had reached the neighborhood, when from the same Hispulla, Julius Atticus brought me word that now not even I could prevail with him: so obstinately had he hardened more and more. He had said indeed to the physician who offered him food, "I have decided" — a word which left in my mind as much longing as admiration.
Cucurri. Perveneram in proximum, cum mihi ab eadem Hispulla Iulius Atticus nuntiat nihil iam ne me quidem impetraturum: tam obstinate magis ac magis induruisse. Dixerat sane medico admoventi cibum: Κέκρικα, quae vox quantum admirationis in animo meo tantum desiderii reliquit.
I consider what a friend, what a man, I have lost. He filled out his sixty-seventh year, an age long enough even for the most robust; I know it. He escaped from an unending illness; I know it. He died with his own surviving him, and with the commonwealth flourishing, which was dearer to him than all; this too I know.
Cogito quo amico, quo viro caream. Implevit quidem annum septimum et sexagensimum, quae aetas etiam robustissimis satis longa est; scio. Evasit perpetuam valetudinem; scio. Decessit superstitibus suis, florente re publica, quae illi omnibus carior erat; et hoc scio.
Yet I grieve for his death as for that of a young man and one in fullest vigor; I grieve, moreover — you may think me weak — on my own account. For I have lost, I have lost, the witness, the guide, the master of my life. In sum, I will say what I said to my companion Calvisius in the freshness of my grief: "I fear I shall live more carelessly."
Ego tamen tamquam et iuvenis et firmissimi mortem doleo, doleo autem - licet me imbecillum putes - meo nomine. Amisi enim, amisi vitae meae testem rectorem magistrum. In summa dicam, quod recenti dolore contubernali meo Calvisio dixi: ’Vereor ne neglegentius vivam.’
Therefore bring me consolations — not these: "He was old, he was infirm" — for these I know — but some new ones, some great ones, that I have never heard, never read. For what I have heard and read comes of itself; but it is overcome by so great a grief. Farewell.
Proinde adhibe solacia mihi, non haec: ’Senex erat, infirmus erat’ - haec enim novi -, sed nova aliqua, sed magna, quae audierim numquam, legerim numquam. Nam quae audivi quae legi sponte succurrunt, sed tanto dolore superantur. Vale.
This year has brought a great crop of poets: through the whole month of April scarcely a day passed on which someone was not giving a reading. I am glad that the studies thrive, that men’s talents come forward and display themselves — though men gather to listen but lazily.
Magnum proventum poetarum annus hic attulit: toto mense Aprili nullus fere dies, quo non recitaret aliquis. Iuvat me quod vigent studia, proferunt se ingenia hominum et ostentant, tametsi ad audiendum pigre coitur.
Most sit about in the lounging-places and waste the time of listening in gossip, and from moment to moment have it reported to them whether the reader has come in yet, whether he has spoken his preface, whether he has unrolled a good part of the book; then, and only then, they come — slowly and reluctantly — and not even then do they stay, but leave before the end, some by stealth and on the sly, others openly and without shame.
Plerique in stationibus sedent tempusque audiendi fabulis conterunt, ac subinde sibi nuntiari iubent, an iam recitator intraverit, an dixerit praefationem, an ex magna parte evolverit librum; tum demum ac tunc quoque Lente cunctanterque veniunt, nec tamen permanent, sed ante finem recedunt, alii dissimulanter et furtim, alii simpliciter et libere.
But, by Hercules, within our fathers’ memory they say that Claudius Caesar, walking on the Palatine and hearing a shout, asked the cause; and when he was told that Nonianus was giving a reading, he came upon the reader sudden and unlooked-for.
At hercule memoria parentum Claudium Caesarem ferunt, cum in Palatio spatiaretur audissetque clamorem, causam requisisse, cumque dictum esset recitare Nonianum, subitum recitanti inopinatumque venisse.
Now every idlest man, though asked long beforehand and reminded again and again, either does not come or, if he comes, complains that he has lost a day — just because he has not lost it.
Nunc otiosissimus quisque multo ante rogatus et identidem admonitus aut non venit aut, si venit, queritur se diem - quia non perdidit - perdidisse.
But so much the more are those to be praised and approved whom neither this sloth nor this disdain of their hearers keeps back from the pursuit of writing and reciting. For my part, I have failed scarcely anyone. They were, to be sure, mostly friends;
Sed tanto magis laudandi probandique sunt, quos a scribendi recitandique studio haec auditorum vel desidia vel superbia non retardat. Equidem prope nemini defui. Erant sane plerique amici;
for there is hardly anyone who loves these studies and does not at the same time love me too. For these reasons I have spent a longer time in the city than I had intended. Now I can seek my retreat again, and write something which I shall not recite — lest I should seem, to those at whose readings I was present, to have been not a listener but a creditor. For as in other things, so in the duty of listening the favor is lost if it is exacted back. Farewell.
neque enim est fere quisquam, qui studia, ut non simul et nos amet. His ex causis longius quam destinaveram tempus in urbe consumpsi. Possum iam repetere secessum et scribere aliquid, quod non recitem, ne videar, quorum recitationibus adfui, non auditor fuisse sed creditor. Nam ut in ceteris rebus ita in audiendi officio perit gratia si reposcatur. Vale.
You ask me to look out a husband for your brother’s daughter; and rightly you lay this charge on me above all. For you know how greatly I looked up to and loved that most excellent man, with what exhortations he cherished my youth, and by what praises he brought it about that I should seem worthy of praise.
Petis ut fratris tui filiae prospiciam maritum; quod merito mihi potissimum iniungis. Scis enim quanto opere summum illum virum suspexerim dilexerimque, quibus ille adulescentiam meam exhortationibus foverit, quibus etiam laudibus ut laudandus viderer effecerit.
There is nothing you could lay upon me greater or more welcome, nothing I could more honorably undertake, than that I should choose a young man worthy to be the father of the grandsons of Arulenus Rusticus.
Nihil est quod a te mandari mihi aut maius aut gratius, nihil quod honestius a me suscipi possit, quam ut eligam iuvenem, ex quo nasci nepotes Aruleno Rustico deceat.
And he would have had to be sought a long while, were not Minicius Acilianus ready and, as it were, provided for the purpose — who loves me, as a young man loves a young man (for he is a few years younger), most intimately, and reveres me as an elder.
Qui quidem diu quaerendus fuisset, nisi paratus et quasi provisus esset Minicius Acilianus, qui me ut iuvenis iuvenem - est enim minor pauculis annis - familiarissime diligit, reveretur ut senem.
For he desires to be formed and trained by me, as I used to be by you. His native place is Brixia, of that Italy of ours which still keeps and guards much of its old modesty, frugality, and even rustic simplicity.
Nam ita formari a me et institui cupit, ut ego a vobis solebam. Patria est ei Brixia, ex illa nostra Italia quae multum adhuc verecundiae frugalitatis, atque etiam rusticitatis antiquae, retinet ac servat.
His father is Minicius Macrinus, a leading man of the equestrian order, because he wished for nothing higher; for though enrolled among the men of praetorian rank by the deified Vespasian, he most steadfastly preferred an honorable quiet to this — shall I call it ambition or dignity? — of ours.
Pater Minicius Macrinus, equestris ordinis princeps, quia nihil altius volvit; allectus enim a Divo Vespasiano inter praetorios honestam quietem huic nostrae - ambitioni dicam an dignitati? - constantissime praetulit.
He has a maternal grandmother, Serrana Procula, from the town of Patavium. You know the manners of the place; yet Serrana is a model of strictness even to the men of Patavium. He has been fortunate too in an uncle, Publius Acilius, a man of almost singular gravity, prudence, and good faith. In sum, there will be nothing in the whole household that will not please you as if it were your own.
Habet aviam maternam Serranam Proculam e municipio Patavio. Nosti loci mores: Serrana tamen Patavinis quoque severitatis exemplum est. Contigit et avunculus ei P. Acilius gravitate prudentia fide prope singulari. In summa nihil erit in domo tota, quod non tibi tamquam in tua placeat.
Acilianus himself has the greatest vigor and industry, joined with the deepest modesty. He has run through the quaestorship, the tribunate, and the praetorship most honorably, and has already, on his own account, spared you the need of canvassing for him.
Aciliano vero ipsi plurimum vigoris industriae, quamquam in maxima verecundia. Quaesturam tribunatum praeturam honestissime percucurrit, ac iam pro se tibi necessitatem ambiendi remisit.
His face is well-bred, suffused with much blood and high color; there is a native beauty in his whole frame, and a certain senatorial grace. These things I by no means think to be neglected; for this is owed, as a kind of reward, to the chastity of maidens.
Est illi facies liberalis, multo sanguine multo rubore suffusa, est ingenua totius corporis pulchritudo et quidam senatorius decor. Quae ego nequaquam arbitror neglegenda; debet enim hoc castitati puellarum quasi praemium dari.
I do not know whether to add that his father has ample means. For when I picture you, for whom we are seeking a son-in-law, I think I should be silent about means; but when I look to the public manners and even the laws of the state, which reckon men’s wealth among the first things to be regarded, not even this seems a thing to be passed over. And indeed, to one who thinks of children, and of these in number, this reckoning too must be set down among the matches to be weighed.
Nescio an adiciam esse patri eius amplas facultates. Nam cum imaginor vos quibus quaerimus generum, silendum de facultatibus puto; cum publicos mores atque etiam leges civitatis intueor, quae vel in primis census hominum spectandos arbitrantur, ne id quidem praetereundum videtur. Et sane de posteris et his pluribus cogitanti, hic quoque in condicionibus deligendis ponendus est calculus.
You may perhaps think that I have indulged my affection, and lifted these matters higher than the case will bear. But I pledge you on my honor that you will find everything far ampler than I proclaim it. I do love the young man most ardently, as he deserves; but that very thing is the lover’s part — not to overload him with praises. Farewell.
Tu fortasse me putes indulsisse amori meo, supraque ista quam res patitur sustulisse. At ego fide mea spondeo futurum ut omnia longe ampliora quam a me praedicantur invenias. Diligo quidem adulescentem ardentissime sicut meretur; sed hoc ipsum amantis est, non onerare eum laudibus. Vale.
Look here, you! You promise to come to dinner, and you do not come? Sentence is pronounced: you shall pay my outlay to the last penny — and that no small one.
Heus tu! Promittis ad cenam, nec venis? Dicitur ius: ad assem impendium reddes, nec id modicum.
There had been made ready a lettuce apiece, three snails, two eggs, barley-broth with honeyed wine and snow — for this too you shall count, nay this first of all, since it perished in the serving — olives, beetroot, gourds, onions, and a thousand other things no less elegant. You would have heard comedians, or a reader, or a lyre-player, or — such is my generosity — all of them.
Paratae erant lactucae singulae, cochleae ternae, ova bina, halica cum mulso et nive - nam hanc quoque computabis, immo hanc in primis quae perit in ferculo -, olivae betacei cucurbitae bulbi, alia mille non minus lauta. Audisses comoedos vel lectorem vel lyristen vel - quae mea liberalitas - omnes.
But you preferred oysters, sow’s paunch, sea-urchins, and Gaditanian dancing-girls at I-know-not-whose. You shall pay for it — I do not say how. You did a hard thing: you grudged — yourself perhaps, certainly me, but yet yourself too. How we should have played, laughed, studied together!
At tu apud nescio quem ostrea vulvas echinos Gaditanas maluisti. Dabis poenas, non dico quas. Dure fecisti: invidisti, nescio an tibi, certe mihi, sed tamen et tibi. Quantum nos lusissemus risissemus studuissemus!
You can dine more sumptuously at many houses; nowhere more merrily, more simply, more unguardedly. In short, make the trial; and unless afterward you rather excuse yourself to others, always excuse yourself to me. Farewell.
Potes apparatius cenare apud multos, nusquam hilarius simplicius incautius. In summa experire, et nisi postea te aliis potius excusaveris, mihi semper excusa. Vale.
I used to love Pompeius Saturninus — our friend, I mean — and to praise his talent, even before I knew how varied, how supple, how manifold it was; but now he wholly holds me, has me, possesses me.
Amabam Pompeium Saturninum - hunc dico nostrum - laudabamque eius ingenium, etiam antequam scirem, quam varium quam flexibile quam multiplex esset; nunc vero totum me tenet habet possidet.
I have heard him plead cases keenly and ardently, and no less politely and with ornament, whether he brought out matter prepared or unprepared. Apt and frequent epigrams are at hand, a weighty and seemly structure, words sonorous and old. All these wonderfully please when they are carried along with a kind of rush and flood; they please too if you go back over them.
Audivi causas agentem acriter et ardenter, nec minus polite et ornate, sive meditata sive subita proferret. Adsunt aptae crebraeque sententiae, gravis et decora constructio, sonantia verba et antiqua. Omnia haec mire placent cum impetu quodam et flumine pervehuntur, placent si retractentur.
You will feel as I do, when you take his speeches in hand, which you will readily compare with any of the ancients whose rival he is.
Senties quod ego, cum orationes eius in manus sumpseris, quas facile cuilibet veterum, quorum est aemulus, comparabis.
Yet in history he will satisfy you more, whether by brevity, or clearness, or sweetness, or even brilliance and loftiness of narrative. For in his harangues there is the same force as in his speeches, only more compressed and confined and drawn taut.
Idem tamen in historia magis satisfaciet vel brevitate vel luce vel suavitate vel splendore etiam et sublimitate narrandi. Nam in contionibus eadem quae in orationibus vis est, pressior tantum et circumscriptior et adductior.
Besides, he makes verses such as my Catullus, or Calvus — verses, in truth, such as Catullus or Calvus. How much charm, sweetness, bitterness, love is in them! He inserts, to be sure, but of set purpose, among the soft and smooth, some that are a little rough; and this too like Catullus or Calvus.
Praeterea facit versus, quales Catullus meus aut Calvus, re vera quales Catullus aut Calvus. Quantum illis leporis dulcedinis amaritudinis amoris! Inserit sane, sed data opera, mollibus levibusque duriusculos quosdam; et hoc quasi Catullus aut Calvus.
He read me lately some letters, which he said were his wife’s. I thought I was hearing Plautus or Terence read in prose. Whether they are his wife’s, as he affirms, or his own, as he denies, he is worthy of equal glory, whether he composed them, or has made the wife he received a girl so learned and polished.
Legit mihi nuper epistulas; uxoris esse dicebat. Plautum vel Terentium metro solutum legi credidi. Quae sive uxoris sunt ut affirmat, sive ipsius ut negat, pari gloria dignus, qui aut illa componat, aut uxorem quam virginem accepit, tam doctam politamque reddiderit.
So he is with me the whole day through; the same man before I write, the same when I have written, the same even when I unbend — yet I do not read him as the same man.
Est ergo mecum per diem totum; eundem antequam scribam, eundem cum scripsi, eundem etiam cum remittor, non tamquam eundem lego.
I both urge and warn you to do likewise; for it ought not to count against his works that he is alive. Were he in his prime among those whom we have never seen, should we not seek out not only his books but even his portraits? — and shall the honor and favor of the same man, now that he is present, grow faint, as from a kind of surfeit?
Quod te quoque ut facias et hortor et moneo; neque enim debet operibus eius obesse quod vivit. An si inter eos quos numquam vidimus floruisset, non solum libros eius verum etiam imagines conquireremus, eiusdem nunc honor praesentis et gratia quasi satietate languescit?
But this is perverse and grudging: not to admire a man most worthy of admiration, just because it falls to us to see him, to speak with him, to hear him, to embrace him, and not only to praise but even to love him. Farewell.
At hoc pravum malignumque est, non admirari hominem admiratione dignissimum, quia videre alloqui audire complecti, nec laudare tantum verum etiam amare contingit. Vale.
Good faith and dutifulness are still a care to men; there are those who play the friend even to the dead. Titinius Capito has obtained from our emperor leave to set up a statue of Lucius Silanus in the forum.
Est adhuc curae hominibus fides et officium, sunt qui defunctorum quoque amicos agant. Titinius Capito ab imperatore nostro impetravit, ut sibi liceret statuam L. Silani in foro ponere.
A fine thing, and worthy of great praise, to use the friendship of a prince to this end, and to make trial of how much your favor avails in the honors of others.
Pulchrum et magna laude dignum amicitia principis in hoc uti, quantumque gratia valcas, aliorum honoribus experiri.
It is, in fact, Capito’s habit to cultivate famous men; it is wonderful with what reverence, with what zeal, he keeps the portraits of the Brutuses, the Cassiuses, the Catos at his home, where he may. The same man adorns the life of every most illustrious person with notable verses.
Est omnino Capitoni in usu claros viros colere; mirum est qua religione quo studio imagines Brutorum Cassiorum Catonum domi ubi potest habeat. Idem clarissimi cuiusque vitam egregiis carminibus exornat.
You may be sure that he himself abounds in very many virtues, who so loves the virtues of others. To Silanus has been rendered the honor due him, for whose immortality Capito has provided, and at the same time for his own. For it is no more becoming and distinguished to have a statue in the forum of the Roman people than to set one up. Farewell.
Scias ipsum plurimis virtutibus abundare, qui alienas sic amat. Redditus est Silano debitus honor, cuius immortalitati Capito prospexit pariter et suae. Neque enim magis decorum et insigne est statuam in foro populi Romani habere quam ponere. Vale.
You write that, terrified by a dream, you fear lest you meet with some reverse in your case; you ask me to seek a postponement, and to excuse you for a few days — at least for the next one. It is hard, but I will try, "for a dream too is from Zeus."
Scribis te perterritum somnio vereri ne quid adversi in; actione patiaris; rogas ut dilationem petam, et pauculos dies, certe proximum, excusem. Difficile est, sed experiar, καὶ γάρ τʼ ὄναρ ἐκ διός ἐστιν.
Yet it makes a difference whether you are wont to dream of things that come to pass, or of their opposites. To me, weighing that dream of yours which you fear, it seems to foretell a splendid pleading.
Refert tamen, eventura soleas an contraria somniare. Mihi reputanti somnium meum istud, quod times tu, egregiam actionem portendere videtur.
I had undertaken the case of Junius Pastor, when, as I slept, my mother-in-law seemed to fall at my knees and entreat me not to plead; and I was about to plead, still a very young man, in a court of four panels, against the most powerful men of the state, and even friends of Caesar — any one of which things might have shaken my resolve after so grim a dream.
Susceperam causam Iuni Pastoris, cum mihi quiescenti visa est socrus mea advoluta genibus ne agerem obsecrare; et eram acturus adulescentulus adhuc, eram in quadruplici iudicio, eram contra potentissimos civitatis atque etiam Caesaris amicos, quae singula excutere mentem mihi post tam triste somnium poterant.
Yet I pleaded, reckoning that "one omen is best, to fight for one’s country." For my country, and anything dearer than country, seemed to me to be my good faith. It turned out well, and that very pleading opened to me the ears of men, opened the door of fame.
Egi tamen λογισάμενος illud εἷς οἰωνὸς ἄριστος ἀμύνεσθαι περὶ πάτρης. Nam mihi patria, et si quid carius patria, fides videbatur. Prospere cessit, atque adeo illa actio mihi aures hominum, illa ianuam famae patefecit.
Therefore consider whether you too, after this example, may turn that dream of yours to good; or, if you think it safer to follow the precept of all most cautious men, "what you doubt of, do not do," write back that very thing.
Proinde dispice an tu quoque sub hoc exemplo somnium istud in bonum vertas; aut si tutius putas illud cautissimi cuiusque praeceptum ’Quod dubites, ne feceris’, id ipsum rescribe.
I will find some shift and plead your case, so that you may be able to plead it when you will. For your case is indeed one thing, mine was another. For a hearing before the Hundred Men can in no way be put off; this one of yours, with difficulty indeed, yet can. Farewell.
Ego aliquam stropham inveniam agamque causam tuam, ut istam agere tu eum voles possis. Est enim sane alia ratio tua, alia mea fuit. Nam iudicium centumvirale differri nullo modo, istuc aegre quidem sed tamen potest. Vale.
You are my fellow-townsman, my schoolfellow, and from earliest youth my comrade; your father was a friend of my mother and of my uncle, and of mine too, so far as the difference of our ages allowed: great and weighty reasons why I ought to undertake and to advance your standing.
Municeps tu meus et condiscipulus et ab ineunte aetate contubernalis, pater tuus et matri et avunculo meo, mihi etiam quantum aetatis diversitas passa est, familiaris: magnae et graves causae, cur suscipere augere dignitatem tuam debeam.
That you have a census of a hundred thousand sesterces is shown well enough by the fact that you are a decurion among us. Therefore, that I may enjoy you not as a decurion only but as a Roman knight as well, I offer you, to fill out the equestrian fortune, three hundred thousand sesterces.
Esse autem tibi centum milium censum, satis indicat quod apud nos decurio es. Igitur ut te non decurione solum verum etiam equite Romano perfruamur, offero tibi ad implendas equestres facultates trecenta milia nummum.
That you will remember this gift, the long duration of our friendship is my pledge: I do not even remind you of what I should otherwise have to remind you — did I not know you will do it of your own accord — that you should use the rank given by me as modestly as becomes a rank given by me.
Te memorem huius muneris amicitiae nostrae diuturnitas spondet: ego ne illud quidem admoneo, quod admonere deberem, nisi scirem sponte facturum, ut dignitate a me data quam modestissime ut a me data utare.
For an honor must be guarded the more anxiously in which a friend’s kindness too is to be kept safe. Farewell.
Nam sollicitius custodiendus est honor, in quo etiam beneficium amici tuendum est. Vale.
I have a frequent dispute with a certain learned and skilled man, who likes nothing in the pleading of cases so much as brevity.
Frequens mihi disputatio est cum quodam docto homine et perito, cui nihil aeque in causis agendis ut brevitas placet.
I confess it must be observed, if the case allows; otherwise it is collusion to pass over what should be said — collusion, too, to touch only in passing and briefly on what should be driven in, fixed fast, and repeated.
Quam ego custodiendam esse confiteor, si causa permittat: alioqui praevaricatio est transire dicenda, praevaricatio etiam cursim et breviter attingere quae sint inculcanda infigenda repetenda.
For to most matters a certain force and weight is added by a longer handling; and as iron into the body, so a speech is pressed into the mind not so much by a stroke as by dwelling upon it.
Nam plerisque longiore tractatu vis quaedam et pondus accedit, utque corpori ferrum, sic oratio animo non ictu magis quam mira imprimitur.
Here he deals with me by authorities, and parades before me, from the Greeks, the speeches of Lysias, from our own, those of the Gracchi and of Cato, of which indeed very many are clipped and short. Against Lysias I set Demosthenes, Aeschines, Hyperides, and many besides; against the Gracchi and Cato, Pollio, Caesar, Caelius, and above all Marcus Tullius, whose best speech is reckoned to be his longest. And, by Hercules, as with other good things, so a good book is the better the bigger it is.
Hic ille mecum auctoritatibus agit ac mihi ex Graecis orationes Lysiae ostentat, ex nostris Gracchorum Catonisque, quorum sane plurimae sunt circumcisae et breves: ego Lysiae Demosthenen Aeschinen Hyperiden multosque praeterea, Gracchis et Catoni Pollionem Caesarem Caelium, in primis M. Tullium oppono, cuius oratio optima fertur esse quae maxima. Et hercule ut aliae bonae res ita bonus liber melior est quisque quo maior.
You see how statues, images, paintings — the forms, in short, of men and of many animals, and of trees too, provided they be shapely — nothing so commends as size. The same befalls speeches; nay, to the very rolls themselves magnitude adds a certain authority and beauty.
Vides ut statuas signa picturas, hominum denique multorumque animalium formas, arborum etiam, si modo sint decorae, nihil magis quam amplitudo commendet. Idem orationibus evenit; quin etiam voluminibus ipsis auctoritatem quandam et pulchritudinem adicit magnitudo.
These arguments, and many others which I am wont to urge to the same effect, he — slippery and not to be pinned down, as he is in debate — so parries as to contend that those very men, on whose speeches I lean, said fewer words than they published.
Haec ille multaque alia, quae a me in eandem sententiam solent dici, ut est in disputando incomprehensibilis et lubricus, ita eludit ut contendat hos ipsos, quorum orationibus nitar, pauciora dixisse quam ediderint.
I think the contrary. Witnesses are the many speeches of many men, and Cicero’s for Murena and for Varenus, in which certain charges are marked only by their headings, in a brief and bare docket, as it were. From these it is plain that he said a great deal which, in publishing, he left out.
Ego contra puto. Testes sunt multae multorum orationes et Ciceronis pro Murena pro Vareno, in quibus brevis et nuda quasi subscriptio quorundam criminum solis titulis indicatur. Ex his apparet illum permulta dixisse, cum ederet omisisse.
The same man, in the speech for Cluentius, says that, by the old practice, he alone summed up the whole case; and that for Gaius Cornelius he pleaded four days — so that we cannot doubt that what he had said at greater length over several days, as he needs must, he afterward cut back, cleaned up, and compressed into one book: a large one indeed, yet but one.
Idem pro Cluentio ait se totam causam vetere instituto solum perorasse, et pro C. Cornelio quadriduo egisse, ne dubitare possimus, quae per plures dies - ut necesse erat - latius dixerit, postea recisa ac repurgata in unum librum grandem quidem unum tamen coartasse.
"But a good delivery is one thing, a good speech another." I know that so it seems to some; but I — perhaps I am mistaken — am persuaded that it can happen that a delivery is good which is not a good speech, but that a delivery cannot fail to be good which is a good speech. For the speech is the pattern of the delivery, and, as it were, its archetype.
At aliud est actio bona, aliud oratio. Scio nonnullis ita videri, sed ego - forsitan fallar - persuasum habeo posse fieri ut sit actio bona quae non sit bona oratio, non posse non bonam actionem esse quae sit bona oratio. Est enim oratio actionis exemplar et quasi ἀρχέτυπον.
Thus in every best speech we find a thousand extempore turns, even in those we know only as published — as in the speech against Verres: "The artist — who? who, pray? You rightly prompt me; they said it was Polyclitus." It follows, then, that the most perfect delivery is that which has most expressed the likeness of the speech, provided it receive its just and due time; and if that be denied, there is no fault in the orator, the greatest in the judge.
Ideo in optima quaque mille figuras extemporales invenimus, in iis etiam quas tantum editas scimus, ut in Verrem: ’artificem quem? quemnam? recte admones; Polyclitum esse dicebant.’ Sequitur ergo ut actio sit absolutissima, quae maxime orationis similitudinem expresserit, si modo iustum et debitum tempus accipiat; quod si negetur, nulla oratoris maxima iudicis culpa est.
On the side of this opinion of mine stand the laws, which grant the longest times, and counsel speakers not to brevity but to fullness — that is, to thoroughness; which brevity cannot furnish, save in the narrowest cases.
Adsunt huic opinioni meae leges, quae longissima tempora largiuntur nec brevitatem dicentibus sed copiam - hoc est diligentiam - suadent; quam praestare nisi in angustissimis causis non potest brevitas.
I will add what experience, that excellent master, has taught me. Often I have pleaded, often judged, often sat on a council: different things move different men, and commonly small matters draw the greatest after them. Men’s judgments are various, their wills various. Hence those who have heard the same case together often feel differently — sometimes the same, but from different motions of the mind.
Adiciam quod me docuit usus, magister egregius. Frequenter egi, frequenter iudicavi, frequenter in consilio fui: aliud alios movet, ac plerumque parvae res maximas trahunt. Varia sunt hominum iudicia, variae voluntates. Inde qui eandem causam simul audierunt, saepe diversum, interdum idem sed ex diversis animi motibus sentiunt.
Besides, each man favors his own discovery, and embraces as strongest, when another has said it, what he himself foresaw. To all, then, something must be given that they may hold to, that they may recognize.
Praeterea suae quisque inventioni favet, et quasi fortissimum amplectitur, cum ab alio dictum est quod ipse praevidit. Omnibus ergo dandum est aliquid quod teneant, quod agnoscant.
Regulus once said to me, when we were appearing together: "You think everything in a case must be pursued; I see the throat at once, and press it." He presses, to be sure, what he has chosen; but in choosing he often errs.
Dixit aliquando mihi Regulus, cum simul adessemus: ’Tu omnia quae sunt in causa putas exsequenda; ego iugulum statim video, hunc premo.’ Premit sane quod elegit, sed in eligendo frequenter errat.
I answered that it might be a knee or an ankle where he thought the throat was. "But I," said I, "who cannot spy out the throat, sound everything, try everything — in a word, I move every stone."
Respondi posse fieri, ut genu esset aut talus, ubi ille iugulum putaret. At ego, inquam, qui iugulum perspicere non possum, omnia pertempto, omnia experior, πάντα denique λίθον κινῶ;
And as in the tilling of a field I tend and work not the vines only, but the orchards too, and not the orchards only but the open fields; and as in the fields themselves I sow not spelt or wheat alone, but barley, beans, and the other pulses — so in a pleading I scatter the more seeds, and more widely, that I may gather in whatever shall come up.
utque in cultura agri non vineas tantum, verum etiam arbusta, nec arbusta tantum verum etiam campos curo et exerceo, utque in ipsis campis non far aut siliginem solam, sed hordeum fabam ceteraque legumina sero, sic in actione plura quasi semina latius spargo, ut quae provenerint colligam.
"And besides his very swiftness, a kind of Persuasion sat upon his lips. So he charmed; and alone of the orators he left his sting behind in his hearers."
πρὸς δέ γʼ αὐτοῦ τῷ τάχει πειθώ τις ἐπεκάθητο τοῖσι χείλεσιν. οὕτως ἐκήλει, καὶ μόνος τῶν ῥητόρων τὸ κέντρον ἐγκατέλειπε τοῖς ἀκροωμένοις.
But to this very Pericles neither that "Persuasion" nor that "charm" would have come — by brevity, or by speed, or by both (for they differ) — without the highest faculty. For to delight and to persuade demands abundance of speech and room; but to leave the sting in the hearers’ minds, that man alone can do who does not prick but drives it home.
Verum huic ipsi Pericli nec illa πειθὼ nec illud ἐκήλει brevitate vel velocitate vel utraque — differunt enim — sine facultate summa contigisset. Nam delectare persuadere copiam dicendi spatiumque desiderat, relinquere vero aculeum in audientium animis is demum potest qui non pungit sed infigit.
"He lightened, he thundered, he threw Greece into confusion."
ἤστραπτʼ, ἐβρόντα, συνεκύκα τὴν ̔ελλάδα
"Yet the best thing is measure." Who denies it? But he keeps measure no less ill who falls below his matter than he who rises above it, who speaks more cramped than he who speaks more diffuse.
’Optimus tamen modus est’: quis negat? sed non minus non servat modum qui infra rem quam qui supra, qui astrictius quam qui effusius dicit.
And so you hear, as often the one — "immoderately and redundantly" — so the other: "meagerly and feebly." One is said to have overrun his subject, another not to have filled it. Both alike are at fault; but the one sins by weakness, the other by force — which is surely the vice, if not of a more polished, yet of a greater talent.
Itaque audis frequenter ut illud: ’immodice et redundanter’, ita hoc: ’ieiune et infirme’. Alius excessisse materiam, alius dicitur non implesse. Aeque uterque, sed ille imbecillitate hic viribus peccat; quod certe etsi non limatioris, maioris tamen ingeni vitium est.
"And his words like the snowflakes of winter — few, indeed, but very clear and keen."
καὶ ἔπεα νιφάδεσσιν ἐοικότα χειμερίῃσιν, παῦρα μέν, ἀλλὰ μάλα λιγέως
"But a short pleading is more pleasing to many." It is — to the lazy, whose daintiness and sloth it is ridiculous to regard as though it were judgment. For if you take these into your council, it were better not only to speak briefly, but not to speak at all.
’At est gratior multis actio brevis.’ Est, sed inertibus quorum delicias desidiamque quasi iudicium respicere ridiculum est. Nam si hos in consilio habeas, non solum satius breviter dicere, sed omnino non dicere.
This, so far, is my opinion, which I will change if you dissent; but I ask you plainly to set out why you dissent. For although I owe deference to your authority, yet I think it more right, in so great a matter, to be overcome by reason than by authority.
Haec est adhuc sententia mea, quam mutabo si dissenseris tu; sed plane cur dissentias explices rogo. Quamvis enim cedere auctoritati tuae debeam, rectius tamen arbitror in tanta re ratione quam auctoritate superari.
Therefore, if I seem not to be in error, write me that very thing in as brief a letter as you please — yet write it, for so you will confirm my judgment; but if I shall have erred, make ready a very long one. Have I not bribed you, then — I who have laid upon you the necessity of a brief letter if you agree with me, of a very long one if you dissent? Farewell.
Proinde, si non errare videor, id ipsum quam voles brevi epistula, sed tamen scribe — confirmabis enim iudicium meum —; si erraro, longissimam para. Num corrupi te, qui tibi si mihi accederes brevis epistulae necessitatem, si dissentires longissimae imposui? Vale.
To your mind’s judgment, as to your eyes’, I grant very much — not because you have much taste (lest you grow pleased with yourself), but because you have just as much as I; though that too is much.
Ut animi tui iudicio sic oculorum plurimum tribuo, non quia multum - ne tibi placeas - sed quia tantum quantum ego sapis; quamquam hoc quoque multum est.
Jests aside, I believe the slaves are seemly that have been bought for me on your advice. It remains that they be honest — which, in the case of slaves for sale, is better judged by the ears than the eyes. Farewell.
Omissis iocis credo decentes esse servos, qui sunt empti mihi ex consilio tuo. Superest ut frugi sint, quod de venalibus melius auribus quam oculis iudicatur. Vale.
Long now I cling to the city, and indeed in suspense. I am troubled by the long and stubborn illness of Titius Aristo, whom I admire and love beyond all others. For there is nothing weightier, holier, more learned than he, so that to me it seems not one man, but letters themselves and all the good arts, that are running their utmost peril in one man.
Diu iam in urbe haereo et quidem attonitus. Perturbat me longa et pertinax valetudo Titi Aristonis, quem singulariter et miror et diligo. Nihil est enim illo gravius sanctius doctius, ut mihi non unus homo sed litterae ipsae omnesque bonae artes in uno homine summum periculum adire videantur.
How skilled he is in the law, private and public alike! How much of affairs, how many precedents, how much antiquity he holds! There is nothing you could wish to learn that he could not teach; to me, at least, whenever I seek out something hidden, he is a treasury.
Quam peritus ille et privati iuris et publici! quantum rerum, quantum exemplorum, quantum antiquitatis tenet! Nihil est quod discere velis quod ille docere non possit; mihi certe quotiens aliquid abditum quaero, ille thesaurus est.
Then what good faith in his talk, what authority, how restrained and seemly his hesitation! What is there that he does not know at once? And yet most often he wavers and doubts, from the diversity of reasons, which with keen and great judgment he traces back to their origin and first causes, distinguishes, and weighs.
Iam quanta sermonibus eius fides, quanta auctoritas, quam pressa et decora cunctatio! quid est quod non statim sciat? Et tamen plerumque haesitat dubitat, diversitate rationum, quas acri magnoque iudicio ab origine causisque primis repetit discernit expendit.
Besides, how sparing in his fare, how modest in his dress! I am wont to look upon his very chamber and his very bed as a kind of image of old-time frugality.
Ad hoc quam parcus in victu, quam modicus in cultu! Soleo ipsum cubiculum illius ipsumque lectum ut imaginem quandam priscae frugalitatis adspicere.
These things are adorned by his greatness of soul, which refers nothing to display, all to conscience, and seeks the reward of a right deed not from the people’s talk, but from the deed itself.
Ornat haec magnitudo animi, quae nihil ad ostentationem, omnia ad conscientiam refert recteque facti non ex populi sermone mercedem, sed ex facto petit.
In short, you will not easily compare with this man any of those who proclaim the pursuit of wisdom by the habit of their body. He does not, indeed, haunt the gymnasia or the colonnades, nor delight others’ leisure and his own with long disputations, but is busied in the toga and in affairs; he helps many by his advocacy, more by his counsel.
In summa non facile quemquam ex istis qui sapientiae studium habitu corporis praeferunt, huic viro comparabis. Non quidem gymnasia sectatur aut porticus, nec disputationibus longis aliorum otium suumque delectat, sed in toga negotiisque versatur, multos advocatione plures consilio iuvat.
Yet to none of those men would he yield, even in the first rank, in chastity, dutifulness, justice, or courage either. You would marvel, were you present, with what patience he bears this very illness — how he resists the pain, how he puts off his thirst, how, unmoving and covered up, he passes through the incredible burning of his fevers.
Nemini tamen istorum castitate pietate, iustitia, fortitudine etiam primo loco cesserit. Mirareris si interesses, qua patientia hanc ipsam valetudinem toleret, ut dolori resistat, ut sitim differat, ut incredibilem febrium ardorem immotus opertusque transmittat.
Lately he summoned me, and a few with me whom he loves most, and asked us to consult the physicians about the issue of his illness: that, if it were not to be overcome, he might depart of his own will from life; if only hard and long, he might resist and remain;
Nuper me paucosque mecum, quos maxime diligit, advocavit rogavitque, ut medicos consuleremus de summa valetudinis, ut si esset insuperabilis sponte exiret e vita; si tantum difficilis et longa, resisteret maneretque:
for he must yield, he said, to his wife’s prayers, yield to his daughter’s tears, yield even to us, his friends, and not desert our hopes — if only they were not vain — by a voluntary death.
dandum enim precibus uxoris, dandum filiae lacrimis, dandum etiam nobis amicis, ne spes nostras, si modo non essent inanes, voluntaria morte desereret.
This I think a hard thing above all, and worthy of singular praise. For to rush upon death by some impulse and instinct is common with many; but to deliberate, and to weigh its causes, and, as reason shall counsel, either to take up or to lay down the plan of life and death, is the mark of a mighty soul.
Id ego arduum in primis et praecipua laude dignum puto. Nam impetu quodam et instinctu procurrere ad mortem commune cum multis, deliberare vero et causas eius expendere, utque suaserit ratio, vitae mortisque consilium vel suscipere vel ponere ingentis est animi.
The physicians, indeed, promise us favorable things: it remains that a god assent to their promises, and at last loose me from this anxiety; freed from which I shall seek again my Laurentine place — that is, my books and tablets, and studious leisure. For now, while I sit by him, I have neither time to read or write anything, nor, anxious as I am, any wish to.
Et medici quidem secunda nobis pollicentur: superest ut promissis deus adnuat tandemque me hac sollicitudine exsolvat; qua liberatus Laurentinum meum, hoc est libellos et pugillares, studiosumque otium repetam. Nunc enim nihil legere, nihil scribere aut assidenti vacat aut anxio libet.
You have what I fear, what I wish, what too I purpose for the future: do you in turn write me what you have done, what you are doing, what you mean to do — but in happier letters. It will be no small solace to my distress, if you have nothing to complain of. Farewell.
Habes quid timeam, quid optem, quid etiam in posterum destinem: tu quid egeris, quid agas, quid velis agere invicem nobis, sed laetioribus epistulis scribe. Erit confusioni meae non mediocre solacium, si tu nihil quereris. Vale.
You consult me whether I think you ought to plead cases during your tribunate. It matters very much what you take the tribunate to be: an empty shadow and a name without honor, or a sacrosanct power which it befits to be brought to heel by no one — and so not even by itself.
Consulis an existimem te in tribunatu causas agere debere. Plurimum refert, quid esse tribunatum putes, inanem umbram et sine honore nomen an potestatem sacrosanctam, et quam in ordinem cogi ut a nullo ita ne a se quidem deceat.
When I myself was tribune, I may perhaps have erred in thinking myself to be something; but, as though I were, I held back from pleading cases: first, because I thought it unseemly that he before whom all ought to rise and give place should stand while all others sat; that he who could bid anyone be silent should have silence imposed on him by the water-clock; and that he whom it were impious to interrupt should even hear abuse, and seem spiritless if he let it go unavenged, insolent if he avenged it.
Ipse cum tribunus essem, erraverim fortasse qui me esse aliquid putavi, sed tamquam essem abstinui causis agendis: primum quod deforme arbitrabar, cui assurge cui loco cedere omnes oporteret, hunc omnibus sedentibus stare, et qui iubere posset tacere quemcumque, huic silentium clepsydra indici, et quem interfari nefas esset, hunc etiam convicia audire et si inulta pateretur inertem, si ulcisceretur insolentem videri.
There was this perplexity too before my eyes: if perchance either the man I was supporting, or the man I was against, should appeal to me, whether I should interpose and bring him aid, or keep still and silent, and, as though I had abjured my magistracy, make myself a private man.
Erat hic quoque aestus ante oculos, si forte me appellasset vel ille cui adessem, vel ille quem contra, intercederem et auxilium ferrem an quiescerem sileremque, et quasi eiurato magistratu privatum ipse me facerem.
Moved by these reasons, I preferred to show myself a tribune to all rather than an advocate to a few.
His rationibus motus malui me tribunum omnibus exhibere quam paucis advocatum.
But you — I will say it again — it matters very much what you take the tribunate to be, what part you lay upon yourself; which a wise man must so fit to himself that he can carry it through. Farewell.
Sed tu - iterum dicam - plurimum interest quid esse tribunatum putes, quam personam tibi imponas; quae sapienti viro ita aptanda est ut perferatur. Vale.
Tranquillus, my companion, wishes to buy a little farm, which your friend is said to be putting up for sale.
Tranquillus contubernalis meus vult emere agellum, quem venditare amicus tuus dicitur.
I ask you to see that he buys it for a fair price; for so it will please him to have bought. For a bad purchase is always unwelcome, chiefly because it seems to reproach the owner with his folly.
Rogo cures, quanti aequum est emat; ita enim delectabit emisse. Nam mala emptio semper ingrata, eo maxime quod exprobrare stultitiam domino videtur.
Now in this little farm, if only the price prove inviting, many things tempt my Tranquillus’s fancy: its nearness to the city, the convenience of the road, the modest size of the house, the measure of land — enough to call him away, not to pull him apart.
In hoc autem agello, si modo arriserit pretium, Tranquilli mei stomachum multa sollicitant, vicinitas urbis, opportunitas viae, mediocritas villae, modus ruris, qui avocet magis quam distringat.
For scholarly owners, such as he is, just so much soil amply suffices as will let them rest their head, refresh their eyes, creep along the boundary and wear one single path, and know all their little vines and count their little trees. I have set this out to you, that you might the better know how much he will owe me, and I you, if he should buy that little estate — commended as it is by these endowments — on terms so wholesome that it leaves no room for regret. Farewell.
Scholasticis porro dominis, ut hic est, sufficit abunde tantum soli, ut relevare caput, reficere oculos, reptare per limitem unamque semitam terere omnesque viteculas suas nosse et numerare arbusculas possint. Haec tibi exposui, quo magis scires, quantum esset ille mihi ego tibi debiturus, si praediolum istud, quod commendatur his dotibus, tam salubriter emerit ut paenitentiae locum non relinquat. Vale.
After an interval of some years, the public funeral of Verginius Rufus presented to the eyes of the Roman people a spectacle striking and even memorable — Verginius, a citizen most great and most renowned, and no less fortunate.
Post aliquot annos insigne atque etiam memorabile populi Romani oculis spectaculum exhibuit publicum funus Vergini Rufi, maximi et clarissimi civis, perinde felicis.
He outlived his own glory by thirty years; he read the poems written about himself, read the histories, and was present at his own posterity. He completed a third consulship, to fill out the highest summit a private man can reach, since he had refused the emperor’s.
Triginta annis gloriae suae supervixit; legit scripta de se carmina, legit historias et posteritati suae interfuit. Perfunctus est tertio consulatu, ut summum fastigium privati hominis impleret, cum principis noluisset.
He escaped the Caesars to whom his virtues had made him suspect and even hateful; he left behind, unharmed, the best of emperors and the most friendly to him — as though he had been kept back for this very honor of a public funeral.
Caesares quibus suspectus atque etiam invisus virtutibus fuerat evasit, reliquit incolumem optimum atque amicissimum, tamquam ad hunc ipsum honorem publici funeris reservatus.
He passed his eighty-third year in the deepest tranquility, with veneration to match. He enjoyed firm health, save that his hands used to tremble — yet without pain. Only the approach of death was harder and longer; but this too was praiseworthy.
Annum tertium et octogensimum excessit in altissima tranquillitate, pari veneratione. Usus est firma valetudine, nisi quod solebant ei manus tremere, citra dolorem tamen. Aditus tantum mortis durior longiorque, sed hic ipse laudabilis.
For when he was preparing his voice to give thanks to the emperor in his consulship, a book he happened to have taken up — a rather large one — slipped from him, old and standing as he was, by its very weight. As he went after it and gathered it up, his foot betrayed him on the smooth and slippery floor; he fell and broke his hip, which, set none too well and with his age resisting, knit badly.
Nam cum vocem praepararet acturus in consulatu principi gratias, liber quem forte acceperat grandiorem, et seni et stanti ipso pondere elapsus est. Hunc dum sequitur colligitque, per leve et lubricum pavimentum fallente vestigio cecidit coxamque fregit, quae parum apte collocata reluctante aetate male coiit.
This man’s obsequies brought great honor to the emperor, great honor to the age, great honor too to the Forum and the Rostra. He was eulogized by the consul Cornelius Tacitus; for this was the crowning summit added to his good fortune — a eulogist most eloquent.
Huius viri exsequiae magnum ornamentum principi magnum saeculo magnum etiam foro et rostris attulerunt. Laudatus est a consule Cornelio Tacito; nam hic supremus felicitati eius cumulus accessit, laudator eloquentissimus.
And he indeed departs full of years, full of honors — even those he refused; yet we must seek and long for him as a model of an earlier age, and I above all, who loved him as much as I admired him, and not only on the public account;
Et ille quidem plenus annis abit, plenus honoribus, illis etiam quos recusavit: nobis tamen quaerendus ac desiderandus est ut exemplar aevi prioris, mihi vero praecipue, qui illum non solum publice quantum admirabar tantum diligebam;
first, because we shared the same region, neighboring townships, fields too and estates lying side by side; and besides, because, left as my guardian, he showed me a father’s affection. So he graced my candidacy with his vote; so he hurried out of his retirement to every one of my advancements, though he had long since renounced such offices; so, on the day when the priests are wont to name those they judge most worthy of a priesthood, he always named me.
primum quod utrique eadem regio, municipia finitima, agri etiam possessionesque coniunctae, praeterea quod ille mihi tutor relictus affectum parentis exhibuit. Sic candidatum me suffragio ornavit; sic ad omnes honores meos ex secessibus accucurrit, cum iam pridem eiusmodi officiis renuntiasset; sic illo die quo sacerdotes solent nominare quos dignissimos sacerdotio iudicant, me semper nominabat.
Indeed, in this his last illness, fearing he might be appointed among the Five Commissioners set up by the Senate’s judgment to cut public spending — though so many friends, old men and ex-consuls, were left to him — he chose me, of these few years, as the man through whom he might be excused, and in these very words: "Even if I had a son, I would entrust it to you."
Quin etiam in hac novissima valetudine, veritus ne forte inter quinqueviros crearetur, qui minuendis publicis sumptibus iudicio senatus constituebantur, cum illi tot amici senes consularesque superessent, me huius aetatis per quem excusaretur elegit, his quidem verbis: ’Etiam si filium haberem, tibi mandarem.’
For these reasons I must weep for his death, as though untimely, upon your breast — if indeed it is right either to weep, or to call it death at all, by which the mortality of so great a man was ended rather than his life.
Quibus ex causis necesse est tamquam immaturam mortem eius in sinu tuo defleam, si tamen fas est aut flere aut omnino mortem vocare, qua tanti viri mortalitas magis finita quam vita est.
For he lives, and will live forever, and will range even more widely in the memory and the talk of men, now that he has passed from their sight.
Vivit enim vivetque semper, atque etiam latius in memoria hominum et sermone versabitur, postquam ab oculis recessit.
I want to write you many other things, but my whole mind is fixed on this one contemplation. Verginius I think of, Verginius I see, Verginius — in images now empty, yet still fresh — I hear, I address, I hold. To him perhaps in virtue we have, and shall have, some citizens equal; in glory, none. Farewell.
Volo tibi multa alia scribere, sed totus animus in hac una contemplatione defixus est. Verginium cogito, Verginium video, Verginium iam vanis imaginibus, recentibus tamen, audio alloquor teneo; cui fortasse cives aliquos virtutibus pares et habemus et habebimus, gloria neminem. Vale.
I am angry — and it is not clear to me whether I ought to be, but I am angry. You know how love is sometimes unfair, often ungovernable, always quick to take small offense. This cause, however, is a great one — I am not sure it is a just one; but I, as though it were no less just than great, am gravely angry that for so long no letter has come from you.
Irascor, nec liquet mihi an debeam, sed irascor. Scis, quam sit amor iniquus interdum, impotens saepe, μικραίτιος semper. Haec tamen causa magna est, nescio an iusta; sed ego, tamquam non minus iusta quam magna sit, graviter irascor, quod a te tam diu litterae nullae.
You can win me over in one way only: if now, at least, you send the most and the longest letters. This alone will seem to me a true excuse; the rest will seem false. I will not hear "I was not at Rome" or "I was rather busy"; and as for "I was rather unwell" — may the gods not allow it. I myself at my villa enjoy partly study, partly idleness — both of which are born of leisure. Farewell.
Exorare me potes uno modo, si nunc saltem plurimas et longissimas miseris. Haec mihi sola excusatio vera, ceterae falsae videbuntur. Non sum auditurus ’non eram Romae’ vel ’occupatior eram’; illud enim nec di sinant, ut ’infirmior’. Ipse ad villam partim studiis partim desidia fruor, quorum utrumque ex otio nascitur. Vale.
A great reputation had gone before Isaeus; he was found greater still. His fluency, his abundance, his richness are supreme; he always speaks extempore, yet as though he had long been writing. His speech is Greek — nay, Attic; his prefaces polished, spare, sweet, at times grave and lofty.
Magna Isaeum fama praecesserat, maior inventus est. Summa est facultas copia ubertas; dicit semper ex tempore, sed tamquam diu scripserit. Sermo Graecus, immo Atticus; praefationes tersae graciles dulces, graves interdum et erectae.
He calls for several controversiae; he leaves the choice to his hearers, often even the side to argue; he rises, gathers his cloak, begins; at once everything, and almost all together, is at his command — recondite thoughts come running up, and words — but what words! — sought out and refined. In his improvisations much reading shines through, much writing.
Poscit controversias plures; electionem auditoribus permittit, saepe etiam partes; surgit amicitur incipit; statim omnia ac paene pariter ad manum, sensus reconditi occursant, verba - sed qualia! - quaesita et exculta. Multa lectio in subitis, multa scriptio elucet.
He opens aptly, narrates clearly, fights keenly, sums up forcefully, adorns loftily. In the end he instructs, delights, and moves — which most, you would be hard put to say. Frequent enthymemes, frequent syllogisms, rounded off and brought home — a thing it is great to achieve even with the pen. His memory is incredible: he goes back and repeats from further up what he had spoken extempore, and does not slip even by a single word.
Prohoemiatur apte, narrat aperte, pugnat acriter, colligit fortiter, ornat excelse. Postremo docet delectat afficit; quid maxime, dubites. Crebra ἐνθυμήματα crebri syllogismi, circumscripti et effecti, quod stilo quoque assequi magnum est. Incredibilis memoria: repetit altius quae dixit ex tempore, ne verbo quidem labitur.
To such a faculty he has come by study and exercise; for by day and by night he does nothing else, hears nothing else, speaks of nothing else.
Ad tantam ἕξιν studio et exercitatione pervenit; nam diebus et noctibus nihil aliud agit nihil audit nihil loquitur.
He has passed his sixtieth year and is still nothing but a man of the schools — than which kind of men there is none more sincere, more guileless, or better. For we who are worn down in the Forum and in real lawsuits learn much wickedness, however unwilling:
Annum sexagensimum excessit et adhuc scholasticus tantum est: quo genere hominum nihil aut sincerius aut simplicius aut melius. Nos enim, qui in foro verisque litibus terimur, multum malitiae quamvis nolimus addiscimus:
the school, the lecture-hall, the made-up case are a thing unarmed and harmless, and no less happy — for the old especially. For what is happier in old age than that which is sweetest in youth?
schola et auditorium et ficta causa res inermis innoxia est, nec minus felix, senibus praesertim. Nam quid in senectute felicius, quam quod dulcissimum est in iuventa?
Wherefore I judge Isaeus not only the most eloquent of men but the most blessed. And if you do not burn to make his acquaintance, you are stone and iron.
Quare ego Isaeum non disertissimum tantum, verum etiam beatissimum iudico. Quem tu nisi cognoscere concupiscis, saxeus ferreusque es.
So then, if not for other reasons and for our own sakes, at least come to hear this man. Have you never read how a certain man of Gades, stirred by the name and glory of Titus Livius, came from the very edge of the earth to see him, and the moment he had seen him went away? It is the mark of a man without taste, unlettered, sluggish, and almost shameful too, not to reckon at its true worth an acquaintance than which none is more delightful, none more lovely, none in short more humane.
Proinde si non ob alia nosque ipsos, at certe ut hunc audias veni. Numquamne legisti, Gaditanum quendam Titi Livi nomine gloriaque commotum ad visendum eum ab ultimo terrarum orbe venisse, statimque ut viderat abisse? Ἀφιλόκαλον illitteratum iners ac paene etiam turpe est, non putare tanti cognitionem qua nulla est iucundior, nulla pulchrior, nulla denique humanior.
You will say: "I have here men to read no less eloquent." True; but to read there is always opportunity, to hear not always. Besides, far more — as the common saying goes — the living voice moves us. For though what you read be keener, yet those things settle deeper in the mind which the speaker’s delivery, his face, his bearing, his very gesture fasten there;
Dices: ’Habeo hic quos legam non minus disertos.’ Etiam; sed legendi semper occasio est, audiendi non semper. Praeterea multo magis, ut vulgo dicitur, viva vox afficit. Nam licet acriora sint quae legas, altius tamen in animo sedent, quae pronuntiatio vultus habitus gestus etiam dicentis affigit;
unless indeed we think that saying of Aeschines false, who, when he had read out to the Rhodians a speech of Demosthenes and all were full of admiration, is reported to have added: "And what, if you had heard the beast himself?" — and Aeschines, if we are to believe Demosthenes, had a most resounding voice. Yet he confessed that the very man who had begotten those words delivered them far better.
nisi vero falsum putamus illud Aeschinis, qui cum legisset Rhodiis orationem Demosthenis admirantibus cunctis, adiecisse fertur: τί δέ, εἰ αὐτοῦ τοῦ θηρίου ἠκούσατε et erat Aeschines si Demostheni credimus λαμπροφωνότατος. Fatebatur tamen longe melius eadem illa pronuntiasse ipsum qui pepererat.
All of which tends to this: that you hear Isaeus — if only for the sake of having heard him. Farewell.
Quae omnia huc tendunt, ut audias Isaeum, vel ideo tantum ut audieris. Vale.
If your father had been in debt to several men, or to any one other than me, it might perhaps have been doubtful whether you should enter upon an inheritance burdensome even for a man.
Si pluribus pater tuus vel uni cuilibet alii quam mihi debuisset, fuisset fortasse dubitandum, an adires hereditatem etiam viro gravem.
But since I, drawn by the duty of kinship, when all the rest — I will not say the more troublesome, but the more exacting — had been paid off, stood forth as the sole creditor; and since, while he yet lived, I contributed a hundred thousand sesterces toward your dowry when you married, over and above the sum your father named as though out of my own purse — for it was in fact to be paid out of mine — you have a great pledge of my open-handedness, and trusting in it you ought to take up the good name and honor of the deceased. And that I may urge you to this by deeds rather than words, I shall order that whatever your father owed me be entered as received from you.
Cum vero ego ductus affinitatis officio, dimissis omnibus qui non dico molestiores sed diligentiores erant, creditor solus exstiterim, cumque vivente eo nubenti tibi in dotem centum milia contulerim, praeter eam summam quam pater tuus quasi de meo dixit - erat enim solvenda de meo -, magnum habes facilitatis meae pignus, cuius fiducia debes famam defuncti pudoremque suscipere. Ad quod te ne verbis magis quam rebus horter, quidquid mihi pater tuus debuit, acceptum tibi fieri iubebo.
Nor have you any reason to fear that this gift is a burden to me. My means are altogether modest, my rank costly, my income — given the condition of my little farms — I know not whether smaller or less certain; but what falls short from income is made up by thrift, from which, as from a spring, our generosity flows down.
Nec est quod verearis ne sit mihi onerosa ista donatio. Sunt quidem omnino nobis modicae facultates, dignitas sumptuosa, reditus propter condicionem agellorum nescio minor an incertior; sed quod cessat ex reditu, frugalitate suppletur, ex qua velut fonte liberalitas nostra decurrit.
Yet it must be so tempered that it does not run dry through too much lavishing; but tempered in other cases — in yours the account will easily balance, even if it has passed the measure. Farewell.
Quae tamen ita temperanda est, ne nimia profusione inarescat; sed temperanda in aliis, in te vero facile ei ratio constabit, etiamsi modum excesserit. Vale.
The speech you have often demanded, and I have often promised, I now present to you — yet not the whole; for part of it is still being polished.
Actionem et a te frequenter efflagitatam, et a me saepe promissam, exhibui tibi, nondum tamen totam; adhuc enim pars eius perpolitur.
Meanwhile it was not out of place to hand over to your judgment the parts that seemed to me more finished. To these I ask you to bring the same intentness as the writer’s. For I have had nothing in hand until now to which I owed greater anxious care.
Interim quae absolutiora mihi videbantur, non fuit alienum iudicio tuo tradi. His tu rogo intentionem scribentis accommodes. Nihil enim adhuc inter manus habui, cui maiorem sollicitudinem praestare deberem.
For in my other speeches only my diligence and good faith are submitted to men’s judgment; in this one, my devotion to my homeland as well. Hence the book has grown, while we delight to adorn and magnify our native place, and serve at once both its defense and its glory.
Nam in ceteris actionibus existimationi hominum diligentia tantum et fides nostra, in hac etiam pietas subicietur. Inde et liber crevit, dum ornare patriam et amplificare gaudemus, pariterque et defensioni eius servimus et gloriae.
Yet do you cut these very passages back, as far as reason requires. For whenever I consider the fastidiousness and dainty appetite of readers, I understand that we must seek our recommendation even from the very moderateness of the book’s compass.
Tu tamen haec ipsa quantum ratio exegerit reseca. Quotiens enim ad fastidium legentium deliciasque respicio, intellego nobis commendationem et ex ipsa mediocritate libri petendam.
Yet I, the same man who demand this austerity of you, am forced to ask the opposite as well — that in most places you unbend your brow. For some things must be granted to the ears of the young, especially if the subject does not refuse them; for descriptions of places, which will be rather frequent in this book, it is right to pursue not only in the manner of history but almost of poetry.
Idem tamen qui a te hanc austeritatem exigo, cogor id quod diversum est postulare, ut in plerisque frontem remittas. Sunt enim quaedam adulescentium auribus danda, praesertim si materia non refragetur; nam descriptiones locorum, quae in hoc libro frequentiores erunt, non historice tantum sed prope poetice prosequi fas est.
Yet if anyone should arise who thinks I have written more gaily than the gravity of oratory demands, the remaining parts of the speech ought to appease his — so to call it — sourness.
Quod tamen si quis exstiterit, qui putet nos laetius fecisse quam orationis severitas exigat, huius - ut ita dixerim - tristitiam reliquae partes actionis exorare debebunt.
I have at least striven to hold readers of however different sorts by several styles of speaking; and just as I fear that some one part may not win certain readers, each according to his own nature, so I think I may be confident that the variety itself will commend the whole to all.
Adnisi certe sumus, ut quamlibet diversa genera lectorum per plures dicendi species teneremus, ac sicut veremur, ne quibusdam pars aliqua secundum suam cuiusque naturam non probetur, ita videmur posse confidere, ut universitatem omnibus varietas ipsa commendet.
For even at banquets, though each of us abstains from most of the dishes, we all are wont to praise the whole dinner; and the things our own stomach refuses do not take away the charm of those by which it is won.
Nam et in ratione conviviorum, quamvis a plerisque cibis singuli temperemus, totam tamen cenam laudare omnes solemus, nec ea quae stomachus noster recusat, adimunt gratiam illis quibus capitur.
And this I would have taken so — not as though I believed I had attained my aim, but as one who has labored to attain it, perhaps not in vain, if only you will apply your care meanwhile to these parts, and soon to those that follow.
Atque haec ego sic accipi volo, non tamquam assecutum esse me credam, sed tamquam assequi laboraverim, fortasse non frustra, si modo tu curam tuam admoveris interim istis, mox iis quae sequuntur.
You will say you cannot do this carefully enough unless you have first come to know the whole speech: I admit it. For the present, nevertheless, these parts will grow more familiar to you, and some of them will be such that they can be corrected piecemeal.
Dices te non posse satis diligenter id facere, nisi prius totam actionem cognoveris: fateor. In praesentia tamen et ista tibi familiariora fient, et quaedam ex his talia erunt ut per partes emendari possint.
For indeed, if you were to examine the head of a statue, or some limb, torn off, you could not from it discern the harmony and proportion of the whole; yet you could judge whether that piece itself were elegant enough;
Etenim, si avulsum statuae caput aut membrum aliquod inspiceres, non tu quidem ex illo posses congruentiam aequalitatemque deprendere, posses tamen iudicare, an id ipsum satis elegans esset;
and for no other reason are books of openings passed from hand to hand, than because some one part is thought to be finished even without the rest.
nec alia ex causa principiorum libri circumferuntur, quam quia existimatur pars aliqua etiam sine ceteris esse perfecta.
A certain sweetness in talking with you has carried me on too far; but now I will make an end, lest in a letter I exceed the measure which I think must be observed even in a speech. Farewell.
Longius me provexit dulcedo quaedam tecum loquendi; sed iam finem faciam ne modum, quem etiam orationi adhibendum puto, in epistula excedam. Vale.
It would be long to trace from far back, and it does not matter, how it came about that I — by no means an intimate — was dining with a certain man who, as it seemed to himself, was elegant and frugal; as it seemed to me, stingy and extravagant at once.
Longum est altius repetere nec refert, quemadmodum acciderit, ut homo minime familiaris cenarem apud quendam, ut sibi videbatur, lautum et diligentem, ut mihi, sordidum simul et sumptuosum.
For before himself and a few he set certain rich dishes, before the rest cheap and scanty ones. The wine, too, he had parceled into three kinds in little flasks — not that there should be a choice, but that there should be no right of refusal: one for himself and us, another for his lesser friends — for he keeps his friends by gradations — and a third for his freedmen and ours.
Nam sibi et paucis opima quaedam, ceteris vilia et minuta ponebat. Vinum etiam parvolis lagunculis in tria genera discripserat, non ut potestas eligendi, sed ne ius esset recusandi, aliud sibi et nobis, aliud minoribus amicis - nam gradatim amicos habet -, aliud suis nostrisque libertis.
The man reclining next to me noticed it, and asked whether I approved. I said no. "What practice, then," he said, "do you follow?" "I set the same before all; for I invite men to dinner, not to a public censure, and I make equal in every respect those whom I have made equal at table and couch."
Animadvertit qui mihi proximus recumbebat, et an probarem interrogavit. Negavi. ’Tu ergo’ inquit ’quam consuetudinem sequeris?’ ’Eadem omnibus pono; ad cenam enim, non ad notam invito cunctisque rebus exaequo, quos mensa et toro aequavi.’
"Even the freedmen?" "Even them; for then I count them fellow-diners, not freedmen." And he: "It must cost you a great deal." "Not at all." "How can that be?" "Because, naturally, my freedmen do not drink the same as I, but I the same as my freedmen."
’Etiamne libertos?’ ’Etiam; convictores enim tunc, non libertos puto.’ Et ille: ’Magno tibi constat.’ ’Minime.’ ’Qui fieri potest?’ ’Quia scilicet liberti mei non idem quod ego bibunt, sed idem ego quod liberti.’
And by Hercules, if you keep your gullet in check, it is no burden to share with many what you use yourself. It is that gullet, then, that must be repressed, that must be reduced to its place, if you would spare expense — to which you may look somewhat more honorably by your own restraint than by another’s humiliation.
Et hercule si gulae temperes, non est onerosum quo utaris ipse communicare cum pluribus. Illa ergo reprimenda, illa quasi in ordinem redigenda est, si sumptibus parcas, quibus aliquanto rectius tua continentia quam aliena contumelia consulas.
To what end all this? That the luxury of certain men at table may not, under the guise of thrift, impose upon you, a young man of the best disposition. It befits my love for you, whenever something of the sort occurs, to forewarn you by example what you ought to flee.
Quorsus haec? ne tibi, optimae indolis iuveni, quorundam in mensa luxuria specie frugalitatis imponat. Convenit autem amori in te meo, quotiens tale aliquid inciderit, sub exemplo praemonere, quid debeas fugere.
Therefore remember that nothing is more to be shunned than that newfangled partnership of luxury and meanness; for, base as they are apart and separate, they are baser when joined. Farewell.
Igitur memento nihil magis esse vitandum quam istam luxuriae et sordium novam societatem; quae cum sint turpissima discreta ac separata, turpius iunguntur. Vale.
Yesterday, on the emperor’s motion, the Senate decreed a triumphal statue to Vestricius Spurinna — not as to the many who never stood in a battle-line, never saw a camp, never in short heard the sound of trumpets except at the games, but as to those who earn that distinction by sweat and blood and deeds.
Here a senatu Vesticio Spurinnae principe auctore triumphalis statua decreta est, non ita ut multis, qui numquam in acie steterunt, numquam castra viderunt, numquam denique tubarum sonum nisi in spectaculis audierunt, verum ut illis, qui decus istud sudore et sanguine et factis assequebantur.
For Spurinna brought the king of the Bructeri back into his kingdom by force of arms, and, by a mere show of war, subdued that most ferocious people by terror alone — which is the fairest kind of victory.
Nam Spurinna Bructerum regem vi et armis induxit in regnum, ostentatoque bello ferocissimam gentem, quod est pulcherrimum victoriae genus, terrore perdomuit.
And this was the reward of his valor; but he received this consolation for his grief — that to his son Cottius, whom he lost while away, the honor of a statue was paid. A rare thing in one so young; but the father deserved this too, whose most grievous wound had to be healed by some great salve.
Et hoc quidem virtutis praemium, illud solacium doloris accepit, quod filio eius Cottio, quem amisit absens, habitus est honor statuae. Rarum id in iuvene; sed pater hoc quoque merebatur, cuius gravissimo vulneri magno aliquo fomento medendum fuit.
Besides, Cottius himself had given so bright a token of his nature that his short and narrow life deserved to be drawn out by this, as it were, immortality. For such was his purity, his gravity, his authority even, that he could challenge in virtue those old men to whom he is now made equal in honor.
Praeterea Cottius ipse tam clarum specimen indolis dederat, ut vita eius brevis et angusta debuerit hac velut immortalitate proferri. Nam tanta ei sanctitas gravitas auctoritas etiam, ut posset senes illos provocare virtute, quibus nunc honore adaequatus est.
And by this honor, as I read it, provision was made not only for the memory of the dead and the grief of the father, but also for the sake of example. Such great rewards, set up for the young as well — provided only they be worthy — will spur the young to good pursuits; they will spur the foremost men to rear children, both by the joys to be had from those who survive and by consolations so glorious from those they lose.
Quo quidem honore, quantum ego interpretor, non modo defuncti memoriae, dolori patris, verum etiam exemplo prospectum est. Acuent ad bonas artes iuventutem adulescentibus quoque, digni sint modo, tanta praemia constituta; acuent principes viros ad liberos suscipiendos et gaudia ex superstitibus et ex amissis tam gloriosa solacia.
For these reasons I rejoice at Cottius’s statue on the public account, and no less on my own. I loved that most accomplished young man as ardently as I now, with impatience, miss him. It will therefore be most welcome to me to gaze on this likeness of him now and again, to look back at it, to stand beneath it, to pass to and fro before it.
His ex causis statua Cotti publice laetor, nec privatim minus. Amavi consummatissimum iuvenem, tam ardenter quam nunc impatienter requiro. Erit ergo pergratum mihi hanc effigiem eius subinde intueri subinde respicere, sub hac consistere praeter hanc commeare.
For if the images of the dead set up at home lighten our grief, how much more these, by which in a most frequented place not only their form and face, but their honor too and glory, are brought back! Farewell.
Etenim si defunctorum imagines domi positae dolorem nostrum levant, quanto magis hae quibus in celeberrimo loco non modo species et vultus illorum, sed honor etiam et gloria refertur! Vale.
Do you study, or fish, or hunt — or all at once? For all can be done together by our Larius. For the lake furnishes fish, the woods that gird the lake their game, and that deepest of retreats your studies, in abundance.
Studes an piscaris an venaris an simul omnia? Possunt enim omnia simul fieri ad Larium nostrum. Nam lacus piscem, feras silvae quibus lacus cingitur, studia altissimus iste secessus affatim suggerunt.
But whether you do all at once or only one, I cannot say "I envy you"; yet I am wrung that the same is not permitted to me, who long for it as the sick long for wine, baths, springs. Shall I never break through these tightest nooses, if it is denied me to loosen them? Never, I suppose.
Sed sive omnia simul sive aliquid facis, non possum dicere ’invideo’; angor tamen non et mihi licere, qui sic concupisco ut aegri vinum balinea fontes. Numquamne hos artissimos laqueos, si solvere negatur, abrumpam? Numquam, puto.
For onto the old business new keeps accruing, and yet the earlier is not finished: by so many ties, so many chains as it were, the marching column of my occupations is stretched longer day by day. Farewell.
Nam veteribus negotiis nova accrescunt, nec tamen priora peraguntur: tot nexibus, tot quasi catenis maius in dies occupationum agmen extenditur. Vale.
The candidacy of my friend Sextus Erucius holds me anxious and unquiet. I am gripped by care, and the worry I never felt on my own behalf I suffer as though for a second self; and besides, my own honor, my own repute, my own standing are brought into hazard.
Anxium me et inquietum habet petitio Sexti Eruci mei. Afficior cura et, quam pro me sollicitudinem non adii, quasi pro me altero patior; et alioqui meus pudor, mea existimatio, mea dignitas in discrimen adducitur.
It was I who obtained for Sextus the broad stripe from our emperor, I who obtained his quaestorship; by my support he reached the right to stand for the tribunate, which, if he does not win it in the Senate, I fear I may seem to have deceived the emperor.
Ego Sexto latum clavum a Caesare nostro, ego quaesturam impetravi; meo suffragio pervenit ad ius tribunatus petendi, quem nisi obtinet in senatu, vereor ne decepisse Caesarem videar.
So I must strive that all should judge him such as the emperor, on my word, believed him to be. And even if this cause did not goad my zeal, I should still wish to see helped a young man most upright, most serious, most learned, in short most worthy of all praise — and that together with his whole house.
Proinde adnitendum est mihi, ut talem eum iudicent omnes, qualem esse princeps mihi credidit. Quae causa si studium meum non incitaret, adiutum tamen cuperem iuvenem probissimum gravissimum eruditissimum, omni denique laude dignissimum, et quidem cum tota domo.
For his father is Erucius Clarus, a man pure, old-fashioned, eloquent, and practiced in pleading cases, which he defends with the utmost good faith, equal steadfastness, and no less modesty. He has for an uncle Gaius Septicius, than whom I know none more truthful, none more guileless, none more candid, none more loyal.
Nam pater ei Erucius Clarus, vir sanctus antiquus disertus atque in agendis causis exercitatus, quas summa fide pari constantia nec verecundia minore defendit. Habet avunculum C. Septicium, quo nihil verius nihil simplicius nihil candidius nihil fidelius novi.
They all love me, eagerly and yet alike; to all of them I can now repay the favor in this one man. And so I lay hold of friends, I entreat, I canvass, I go the round of houses and gathering-places, and whatever I am worth in authority or in favor I put to the test by my prayers; and I beseech you to think it worth your while to take some part of my burden on yourself.
Omnes me certatim et tamen aequaliter amant, omnibus nunc ego in uno referre gratiam possum. Itaque prenso amicos, supplico, ambio, domos stationesque circumeo, quantumque vel auctoritate vel gratia valeam, precibus experior, teque obsecro ut aliquam oneris mei partem suscipere tanti putes.
I will return the turn if you ask it back, and return it even if you do not. You are loved, courted, thronged: only show that you are willing, and there will be no lack of men to desire what you desire. Farewell.
Reddam vicem si reposces, reddam et si non reposces. Diligeris coleris frequentaris: ostende modo velle te, nec deerunt qui quod tu velis cupiant. Vale.
What a patient man you are — or rather, hard and almost cruel — to keep such remarkable books back so long!
Hominem te patientem vel potius durum ac paene crudelem, qui tam insignes libros tam diu teneas!
How long will you begrudge them both to yourself and to us — to yourself the greatest praise, to us the pleasure? Let them be carried on the lips of men and range over the same expanse as the Roman tongue. Great, and by now long, is the expectation, which you ought no longer to cheat and put off.
Quousque et tibi et nobis invidebis, tibi maxima laude, nobis voluptate? Sine per ora hominum ferantur isdemque quibus lingua Romana spatiis pervagentur. Magna et iam longa exspectatio est, quam frustrari adhuc et differre non debes.
Certain of your verses have got abroad, and, against your will, have broken out of their confinement. Unless you draw these back into the body of the work, one day, like runaway slaves, they will find someone to be called their owner.
Enotuerunt quidam tui versus, et invito te claustra sua refregerunt. Hos nisi retrahis in corpus, quandoque ut errones aliquem cuius dicantur invenient.
Keep mortality before your eyes — from which by this one monument you can claim your freedom; for all else is frail and fleeting, and perishes and ceases no less than men themselves.
Habe ante oculos mortalitatem, a qua asserere te hoc uno monimento potes; nam cetera fragilia et caduca non minus quam ipsi homines occidunt desinuntque.
You will say, as you are wont: "My friends will see to it." I do indeed wish you friends so faithful, so learned, so industrious that they both can and will take on so much care and attention; but look to it that it be not too improvident to hope from others what you do not furnish yourself.
Dices, ut soles: ’Amici mei viderint.’ Opto equidem amicos tibi tam fideles tam eruditos tam laboriosos, ut tantum curae intentionisque suscipere et possint et velint, sed dispice ne sit parum providum, sperare ex aliis quod tibi ipse non praestes.
And as for publishing, for the present have it as you will; but at least recite them, so that the wish to send them forth may grow, and that you may at last gather in that joy which I have long, and not rashly, presumed on your behalf.
Et de editione quidem interim ut voles: recita saltem quo magis libeat emittere, utque tandem percipias gaudium, quod ego olim pro te non temere praesumo.
For I imagine what crowds, what admiration, what applause, what silence even await you; for I myself, when I plead or recite, take no less delight in silence than in applause — provided it be a silence keen and intent, and eager to hear more.
Imaginor enim qui concursus quae admiratio te, qui clamor quod etiam silentium maneat; quo ego, cum dico vel recito, non minus quam clamore delector, sit modo silentium acre et intentum, et cupidum ulteriora audiendi.
Cease, then, to cheat your studies of a reward so great and so ready by this endless hesitation; for when it passes the measure, there is reason to fear it may take the name of sloth and idleness, or even of timidity. Farewell.
Hoc fructu tanto tam parato desine studia tua infinita ista cunctatione fraudare; quae cum modum excedit, verendum est ne inertiae et desidiae vel etiam timiditatis nomen accipiat. Vale.
It is wont to be a joy to you if anything has been done in the Senate worthy of that order. For though you have withdrawn for love of quiet, still the care for the public dignity sits fixed in your mind. Hear, then, what was done in these last days — famous for the rank of the person, salutary for the sternness of the example, eternal for the greatness of the matter.
Solet esse gaudio tibi, si quid acti est in senatu dignum ordine illo. Quamvis enim quietis amore secesseris, insidet tamen animo tuo maiestatis publicae cura. Accipe ergo quod per hos dies actum est, personae claritate famosum, severitate exempli salubre, rei magnitudine aeternum.
Marius Priscus, when the Africans over whom he had been proconsul brought the accusation, gave up his defense and asked merely for assessors. Cornelius Tacitus and I, ordered to support the provincials, judged it consistent with our trust to make known to the Senate that Priscus had gone beyond, in monstrousness and cruelty, the kind of crimes for which assessors can be granted — since he had taken money for condemning the innocent, and even for putting them to death.
Marius Priscus accusantibus Afris quibus pro consule praefuit, omissa defensione iudices petiit. Ego et Cornelius Tacitus, adesse provincialibus iussi, existimavimus fidei nostrae convenire notum senatui facere excessisse Priscum immanitate et saevitia crimina quibus dari iudices possent, cum ob innocentes condemnandos, interficiendos etiam, pecunias accepisset.
Catius Fronto answered, and pleaded that nothing be sought beyond the extortion law; and that man, most skilled at stirring tears, filled all the sails of his pleading with a kind of wind of pity.
Respondit Fronto Catius deprecatusque est, ne quid ultra repetundarum legem quaereretur, omniaque actionis suae vela vir movendarum lacrimarum peritissimus quodam velut vento miserationis implevit.
Great was the strife, great the shouting on both sides — some saying the Senate’s inquiry was bounded by the law, others that it was free and unconfined, and that the defendant’s punishment should be as great as his crime.
Magna contentio, magni utrimque clamores aliis cognitionem senatus lege conclusam, aliis liberam solutamque dicentibus, quantumque admisisset reus, tantum vindicandum.
At last the consul-designate Julius Ferox, a man upright and blameless, moved that assessors should for the present be granted against Marius, but that those to whom he was said to have sold the punishment of the innocent should be summoned.
Novissime consul designatus Iulius Ferox, vir rectus et sanctus, Mario quidem iudices interim censuit dandos, evocandos autem quibus diceretur innocentium poenas vendidisse.
This motion not only prevailed, but, after such great dissensions, was the only one widely supported; and it was marked by experience that favor and pity have keen and violent first onsets, but little by little, quenched as it were by counsel and reason, they subside.
Quae sententia non praevaluit modo, sed omnino post tantas dissensiones fuit sola frequens, adnotatumque experimentis, quod favor et misericordia acres et vehementes primos impetus habent, paulatim consilio et ratione quasi restincta considunt.
Whence it comes about that what many uphold amid confused shouting, no one is willing to say when the rest are silent; for once you are parted from the crowd, the clear view of things that the crowd conceals lies open.
Unde evenit ut, quod multi clamore permixto tuentur, nemo tacentibus ceteris dicere velit; patescit enim, cum separaris a turba, contemplatio rerum quae turba teguntur.
Those came who had been ordered to appear, Vitellius Honoratus and Flavius Marcianus; of whom Honoratus was charged with having bought, for three hundred thousand sesterces, the exile of a Roman knight and the capital punishment of seven of his friends, and Marcianus with having bought, for seven hundred thousand, several punishments of a single Roman knight; for he had been beaten with cudgels, condemned to the mines, and strangled in prison.
Venerunt qui adesse erant iussi, Vitellius Honoratus et Flavius Marcianus; ex quibus Honoratus trecentis milibus exsilium equitis Romani septemque amicorum eius ultimam poenam, Marcianus unius equitis Romani septingentis milibus plura supplicia arguebatur emisse; erat enim fustibus caesus, damnatus in metallum, strangulatus in carcere.
But a timely death snatched Honoratus from the Senate’s inquiry; Marcianus was brought in, Priscus being absent. And so Tuccius Cerialis, a man of consular rank, demanded by senatorial right that Priscus be notified — whether because he thought he would prove more pitiable, or more invidious, had he been present, or — what I most believe — because it was most fair that a shared charge be defended by both, and, if it could not be washed away, be punished in both.
Sed Honoratum cognitioni senatus mors opportuna subtraxit, Marcianus inductus est absente Prisco. Itaque Tuccius Cerialis consularis iure senatorio postulavit, ut Priscus certior fieret, sive quia miserabiliorem sive quia invidiosiorem fore arbitrabatur, si praesens fuisset, sive - quod maxime credo - quia aequissimum erat commune crimen ab utroque defendi, et si dilui non potuisset in utroque puniri.
The matter was put off to the next session of the Senate, whose very aspect was most august. The emperor presided — for he was consul; add that the month of January is, among other things, especially crowded with the attendance of senators; besides, the magnitude of the case, the expectation swollen by the delay, and the talk of it, and that desire implanted in mortals to learn of great and unusual things — all this had roused everyone from every quarter.
Dilata res est in proximum senatum, cuius ipse conspectus augustissimus fuit. Princeps praesidebat - erat enim consul -, ad hoc Ianuarius mensis cum cetera tum praecipue senatorum frequentia celeberrimus; praeterea causae amplitudo auctaque dilatione exspectatio et fama, insitumque mortalibus studium magna et inusitata noscendi, omnes undique exciverat.
Imagine what anxiety was ours, what fear, who on a matter so great had to speak in that assembly with the emperor present. For my part, I have pleaded in the Senate more than once — nay, nowhere am I wont to be heard more kindly: yet then everything, as though new, moved me with a new fear.
Imaginare quae sollicitudo nobis, qui metus, quibus super tanta re in illo coetu praesente Caesare dicendum erat. Equidem in senatu non semel egi, quin immo nusquam audiri benignius soleo: tunc me tamen ut nova omnia novo metu permovebant.
Besides what I have said above, the difficulty of the case kept rising before me: there stood a man now of consular rank, now a Septemvir of the Feast — and now neither.
Obversabatur praeter illa quae supra dixi causae difficultas: stabat modo consularis, modo septemvir epulonum, iam neutrum.
It was therefore exceedingly burdensome to accuse a man already condemned, whom, as the atrocity of his crime bore down upon him, so the pity of a sentence as good as carried out protected.
Erat ergo perquam onerosum accusare damnatum, quem ut premebat atrocitas criminis, ita quasi peractae damnationis miseratio tuebatur.
Yet somehow I gathered my mind and my thought, and began to speak with no less assent from my hearers than anxiety in myself. I spoke for nearly five hours; for to the twelve water-clocks, the most ample I had been granted, four more were added. So far did those very things that had seemed hard and hostile to me before I spoke prove favorable once I was speaking.
Utcumque tamen animum cogitationemque collegi, coepi dicere non minore audientium assensu quam sollicitudine mea. Dixi horis paene quinque; nam duodecim clepsydris, quas spatiosissimas acceperam, sunt additae quattuor. Adeo illa ipsa, quae dura et adversa dicturo videbantur, secunda dicenti fuerunt.
The emperor indeed showed me such interest, such care even — for to say anxiety would be too much — that he more than once warned my freedman, who stood behind me, to look to my voice and my lungs, when he thought I was straining more vehemently than my slight frame could bear. Claudius Marcellinus answered me for Marcianus.
Caesar quidem tantum mihi studium, tantam etiam curam - nimium est enim dicere sollicitudinem - praestitit, ut libertum meum post me stantem saepius admoneret voci laterique consulerem, cum me vehementius putaret intendi, quam gracilitas mea perpeti posset. Respondit mihi pro Marciano Claudius Marcellinus.
Then the Senate was dismissed and recalled for the morrow; for the pleading could no longer be begun without being cut short by the fall of night.
Missus deinde senatus et revocatus in posterum; neque enim iam incohari poterat actio, nisi ut noctis interventu scinderetur.
The next day Salvius Liberalis spoke for Marius — a man subtle, orderly, keen, eloquent; and in that cause he brought out all his arts. Cornelius Tacitus answered most eloquently and — what is the surpassing quality of his oratory — with weight and dignity.
Postero die dixit pro Mario Salvius Liberalis, vir subtilis dispositus acer disertus; in illa vero causa omnes artes suas protulit. Respondit Cornelius Tacitus eloquentissime et, quod eximium orationi eius inest, σεμνῶς.
Catius Fronto spoke again for Marius, with distinction, and, as that turn of things now required, spent more time on entreaties than on defense. Evening closed his pleading, yet not so as to break it off. And so the proofs ran over into a third day. This very thing was now fair and old-fashioned: that the Senate should be parted by nightfall, summoned for three days, and held three days running.
Dixit pro Mario rursus Fronto Catius insigniter, utque iam locus ille poscebat, plus in precibus temporis quam in defensione consumpsit. Huius actionem vespera inclusit, non tamen sic ut abrumperet. Itaque in tertium diem probationes exierunt. Iam hoc ipsum pulchrum et antiquum, senatum nocte dirimi, triduo vocari, triduo contineri.
Cornutus Tertullus, consul-designate, a man outstanding and most steadfast for the truth, moved that the seven hundred thousand sesterces Marius had taken be paid into the treasury, that Marius be barred from the city and from Italy, and Marcianus from Africa besides. At the end of his motion he added that, since Tacitus and I had discharged the advocacy laid upon us diligently and bravely, the Senate judged that we had acted as was worthy of the parts entrusted to us.
Cornutus Tertullus consul designatus, vir egregius et pro veritate firmissimus, censuit septingenta milia quae acceperat Marius aerario inferenda, Mario urbe Italiaque interdicendum, Marciano hoc amplius Africa. In fine sententiae adiecit, quod ego et Tacitus iniuncta advocatione diligenter et fortiter functi essemus, arbitrari senatum ita nos fecisse ut dignum mandatis partibus fuerit.
The consuls-designate assented, and all the men of consular rank too, down to Pompeius Collega: he moved that the seven hundred thousand be paid into the treasury, that Marcianus be banished for five years, but that Marius be left to the penalty for extortion which he had already undergone.
Assenserunt consules designati, omnes etiam consulares usque ad Pompeium Collegam: ille et septingenta milia aerario inferenda et Marcianum in quinquennium relegandum, Marium repetundarum poenae quam iam passus esset censuit relinquendum.
There were many on each motion, perhaps even more on this looser or softer one. For some even of those who had seemed to assent to Cornutus were now following this man, who had moved after them.
Erant in utraque sententia multi, fortasse etiam plures in hac vel solutiore vel molliore. Nam quidam ex illis quoque, qui Cornuto videbantur assensi, hunc qui post ipsos censuerat sequebantur.
But when the division came, those who had been standing by the consuls’ chairs began to go over to Cornutus’s motion. Then those who had let themselves be counted with Collega crossed to the other side; Collega was left with a few. He complained much afterward of those who had egged him on, and chiefly of Regulus, who had deserted him in a motion that he himself had dictated. Regulus, moreover, has so changeable a temper that he dares the most and fears the most.
Sed cum fieret discessio, qui sellis consulum astiterant, in Cornuti sententiam ire coeperunt. Tum illi qui se Collegae adnumerari patiebantur in diversum transierunt; Collega cum paucis relictus. Multum postea de impulsoribus sis, praecipue de Regulo questus est, qui se in sententia quam ipse dictaverat deseruisset. Est alioqui Regulo tam mobile ingenium, ut plurimum audeat plurimum timeat.
This was the end of a most weighty trial. Yet there remains a no light bit of after-business: Hostilius Firminus, legate of Marius Priscus, who, drawn into the case, was gravely and vehemently harassed. For both by the accounts of Marcianus and by a speech the man had delivered before the council of the people of Lepcis, it was being proved that he had lent his service to Priscus for a most shameful office, and had bargained from Marcianus for fifty thousand denarii, and had himself besides received ten thousand sesterces under a most foul heading — by the name of perfume-money; a heading not at all out of keeping with the life of a man forever trimmed and pumice-smoothed.
Hic finis cognitionis amplissimae. Superest tamen λιτούργιον non leve, Hostilius Firminus legatus Mari Prisci, qui permixtus causae graviter vehementerque vexatus est. Nam et rationibus Marciani, et sermone quem ille habuerat in ordine Lepcitanorum, operam suam Prisco ad turpissimum ministerium commodasse, stipulatusque de Marciano quinquaginta milia denariorum probabatur, ipse praeterea accepisse sestertia decem milia foedissimo quidem titulo, nomine unguentarii, qui titulus a vita hominis compti semper et pumicati non abhorrebat.
It was resolved, on Cornutus’s motion, that his case be brought up at the next session; for then — whether by chance or by a guilty conscience — he had been absent.
Placuit censente Cornuto referri de eo proximo senatu; tunc enim, casu an conscientia, afuerat.
There you have the city’s doings; write me in return the country’s. How fare your little trees, your vines, your crops, your most pampered sheep? In short, unless you send back an equally long letter, you have no reason to expect anything but the briefest from me hereafter. Farewell.
Habes res urbanas; invicem rusticas scribe. Quid arbusculae tuae, quid vineae, quid segetes agunt, quid oves delicatissimae? In summa, nisi aeque longam epistulam reddis, non est quod postea nisi brevissimam exspectes. Vale.
That bit of after-business which I lately wrote was still left over from the case of Marius Priscus has been — not sufficiently, perhaps, but at any rate — pared down and scraped clean.
Λιτούργιον illud, quod superesse Mari Prisci causae proxime scripseram, nescio an satis, circumcisum tamen et adrasum est.
Firminus, brought into the Senate, answered to the known charge. Differing motions of the consuls-designate followed. Cornutus Tertullus moved that he be expelled from the order; Acutius Nerva, that no account be taken of him in the allotment of a province. This latter motion, as the milder, prevailed — though in fact it is the harder and grimmer.
Firminus inductus in senatum respondit crimini noto. Secutae sunt diversae sententiae consulum designatorum. Cornutus Tertullus censuit ordine movendum, Acutius Nerva in sortitione provinciae rationem eius non habendam. Quae sententia tamquam mitior vicit, cum sit alioqui durior tristiorque.
For what is more wretched than to be cut out and excepted from the senatorial honors, yet not from their labor and trouble? What is heavier than, branded with so great a disgrace, not to lie hidden in solitude, but on this loftiest of watchtowers to offer oneself to be looked at and pointed out?
Quid enim miserius quam exsectum et exemptum honoribus senatoriis, labore et molestia non carcere? quid gravius quam tanta ignominia affectum non in solitudine latere, sed in hac altissima specula conspiciendum se monstrandumque praebere?
Besides, what, publicly, is less fitting or seemly? That a man censured by the Senate should sit in the Senate, and be made equal to the very men by whom he was censured; that a man removed from a proconsulship because he had conducted himself shamefully in a legateship should sit in judgment on proconsuls; and that a man condemned for corruption should either condemn or acquit others!
Praeterea quid publice minus aut congruens aut decorum? notatum a senatu in senatu sedere, ipsisque illis a quibus sit notatus aequari; summotum a proconsulatu quia se in legatione turpiter gesserat, de proconsulibus iudicare, damnatumque sordium vel damnare alios vel absolvere!
But so it seemed to the majority. For votes are counted, not weighed; nor can it be otherwise in a public council, in which nothing is so unequal as equality itself. For though men’s prudence is unequal, the right of all is equal.
Sed hoc pluribus visum est. Numerantur enim sententiae, non ponderantur; nec aliud in publico consilio potest fieri, in quo nihil est tam inaequale quam aequalitas ipsa. Nam cum sit impar prudentia, par omnium ius est.
I have fulfilled my promise and discharged the pledge of my earlier letter, which I gather from the lapse of time you have by now received; for I gave it to a swift and careful letter-carrier, unless he met some hindrance on the road.
Implevi promissum priorisque epistulae fidem exsolvi, quam ex spatio temporis iam recepisse te colligo; nam et festinanti et diligenti tabellario dedi, nisi quid impedimenti in via passus est.
Now it is your part to repay first that letter, then this one, with letters such as can come back from there in the fullest measure. Farewell.
Tuae nunc partes, ut primum illam, deinde hanc remunereris litteris, quales istinc redire uberrimae possunt. Vale.
You both seize most eagerly upon occasions of putting me in your debt, and there is no one to whom I more gladly owe.
Et tu occasiones obligandi me avidissime amplecteris, et ego nemini libentius debeo.
For two reasons, then, I have resolved to ask of you in preference to all others the thing I most desire to obtain. You command a most ample army: hence you have abundant material for favors, and a long time besides in which you have been able to advance your friends. Turn now to mine — and these not many.
Duabus ergo de causis a te potissimum petere constitui, quod impetratum maxime cupio. Regis exercitum amplissimum: hinc tibi beneficiorum larga materia, longum praeterea tempus, quo amicos tuos exornare potuisti. Convertere ad nostros nec hos multos.
You for your part would rather they were many; but for my modesty one or two suffice — or rather, one.
Malles tu quidem multos; sed meae verecundiae sufficit unus aut alter, ac potius unus.
He will be Voconius Romanus. His father was distinguished in the equestrian rank, his stepfather more distinguished still — nay, a second father, for to that name too he succeeded by his devotion; his mother of the first families. He himself was lately flamen of Hither Spain — you know the judgment of that province, how great its weight.
Is erit Voconius Romanus. Pater ei in equestri gradu clarus, clarior vitricu, immo pater alius - nam huic quoque nomini pietate successit -, mater e primi. Ipse citerioris Hispaniae - scis quod iudicium provinciae illius, quanta sit gravitas - flamen proxime fuit.
Him, while we studied together, I loved closely and intimately; he was my comrade in the city, my comrade in retirement; with him I mingled my serious hours, with him my jests.
Hunc ego, cum simul studeremus, arte familiariterque dilexi; ille meus in urbe ille in secessu contubernalis, cum hoc seria cum hoc iocos miscui.
For what is either more faithful than he as a friend, or more delightful as a companion? Wondrous is the charm of his talk, wondrous too in his very mouth and look.
Quid enim illo aut fidelius amico aut sodale iucundius? Mira in sermone, mira etiam in ore ipso vultuque suavitas.
Add a talent lofty, subtle, sweet, ready, and learned in the pleading of cases; his letters, indeed, he writes so that you would believe the Muses themselves were speaking Latin. He is loved by me to the utmost, and yet he is not outdone in loving.
Ad hoc ingenium excelsum subtile dulce facile eruditum in causis agendis; epistulas quidem scribit, ut Musas ipsas Latine loqui credas. Amatur a me plurimum nec tamen vincitur.
For my part, while still a young man, I bestowed upon him, young as he too was, as much as my age allowed, most eagerly, and lately obtained for him from our excellent emperor the right of three children; which, though the emperor grants it sparingly and with discrimination, he yet bestowed at my asking as though he were himself making the choice.
Equidem iuvenis statim iuveni, quantum potui per aetatem, avidissime contuli, et nuper ab optimo principe trium liberorum ius impetravi; quod quamquam parce et cum delectu daret, mihi tamen tamquam eligeret indulsit.
These benefits of mine I can in no way better protect than by increasing them, especially since he himself construes them so gratefully that, while he receives the earlier, he earns the later.
Haec beneficia mea tueri nullo modo melius quam ut augeam possum, praesertim cum ipse illa tam grate interpretetur, ut dum priora accipit posteriora mereatur.
There you have what manner of man he is, how approved and dear to me, whom I beg you to advance, according to your own genius and fortune. Above all, love the man; for though you grant him the most you can, you can grant nothing greater than your friendship — and that he is capable of it, even to the closest intimacy, you may know the better since I have briefly set out for you his studies, his character, in short his whole life.
Habes qualis quam probatus carusque sit nobis, quem rogo pro ingenio pro fortuna tua exornes. In primis ama hominem; nam licet tribuas ei quantum amplissimum potes, nihil tamen amplius potes amicitia tua; cuius esse eum usque ad intimam familiaritatem capacem quo magis scires, breviter tibi studia mores omnem denique vitam eius expressi.
I would prolong my entreaties, were it not that you dislike being asked at length and that I have been making them through this whole letter; for he asks, and most effectively, who renders the reasons for asking. Farewell.
Extenderem preces nisi et tu rogari diu nolles et ego tota hoc epistula fecissem; rogat enim et quidem efficacissime, qui reddit causas rogandi. Vale.
You think truly: I am pulled this way and that by cases in the Court of the Hundred, which tax me more than they delight me. For most are small and thin; rarely does one fall out notable for the rank of the persons or the greatness of the matter.
Verum opinaris: distringor centumviralibus causis, quae me exercent magis quam delectant. Sunt enim pleraeque parvae et exiles; raro incidit vel personarum claritate vel negotii magnitudine insignis.
Besides, there are few with whom it is a pleasure to plead; the rest are brash, and for the most part obscure striplings who have crossed over here to declaim, so irreverently and rashly that our friend Atilius seems to me to have put it exactly: that boys begin in the Forum with cases in the Court of the Hundred just as they begin with Homer in the schools. For here as there they start with what is greatest.
Ad hoc pauci cum quibus iuvet dicere; ceteri audaces atque etiam magna ex parte adulescentuli obscuri ad declamandum huc transierunt, tam irreverenter et temere, ut mihi Atilius noster expresse dixisse videatur, sic in foro pueros a centumviralibus causis auspicari, ut ab Homero in scholis. Nam hic quoque ut illic primum coepit esse quod maximum est.
But by Hercules, before my time — so their elders are wont to say — not even the noblest young men had a place there unless some man of consular rank brought them forward: with such reverence was that fairest of pursuits cultivated.
At hercule ante memoriam meam - ita maiores natu solent dicere -, ne nobilissimis quidem adulescentibus locus erat nisi aliquo consulari producente: tanta veneratione pulcherrimum opus colebatur.
Now, the barriers of shame and reverence broken down, all lies open to all; they are not led in, but burst in. There follow hearers like the pleaders — hired and bought. The contractor is met with; in the middle of the basilica the dole is handed out as openly as in a dining-room; from one court to another men pass at the same wage.
Nunc refractis pudoris et reverentiae claustris, omnia patent omnibus, nec inducuntur sed irrumpunt. Sequuntur auditores actoribus similes, conducti et redempti. Manceps convenitur; in media basilica tam palam sportulae quam in triclinio dantur; ex iudicio in iudicium pari mercede transitur.
Hence already, not without wit, they are called in Greek Sophocleis — from being "summoned cleverly" for a fee, a pun on the poet’s name — and the same men have had a Latin name laid on them, the Laudiceni, the "praise-for-a-dinner" men;
Inde iam non inurbane Σοφοκλεῖς vocantur ἀπὸ τοῦ σοφῶς καὶ καλεῖσθαι, isdem Latinum nomen impositum est Laudiceni;
and yet the foulness, branded in both tongues, grows by the day. Yesterday two of my own name-callers — they are about the age of those who have just put on the man’s toga — were being dragged off to applaud at three denarii apiece. That is what it costs to be reckoned most eloquent. At this price the benches, however many, are filled; at this an enormous ring of listeners is gathered; at this endless shouts are stirred up, once the chorus-leader has given the signal.
et tamen crescit in dies foeditas utraque lingua notata. Here duo nomenclatores mei - habent sane aetatem eorum qui nuper togas sumpserint - ternis denariis ad laudandum trahebantur. Tanti constat ut sis disertissimus. Hoc pretio quamlibet numerosa subsellia implentur, hoc ingens corona colligitur, hoc infiniti clamores commoventur, cum mesochorus dedit signum.
For a signal is needed among men who do not understand — who do not even hear;
Opus est enim signo apud non intellegentes, ne audientes quidem;
for most do not listen, and none applaud more loudly. If ever you pass through the basilica and wish to know how each man speaks, there is no need to climb the platform, no need to lend an ear; the divination is easy: know that he speaks worst who will be applauded most.
nam plerique non audiunt, nec ulli magis laudant. Si quando transibis per basilicam et voles scire, quo modo quisque dicat, nihil est quod tribunal ascendas, nihil quod praebeas aurem; facilis divinatio: scito eum pessime dicere, qui laudabitur maxime.
Larcius Licinus first brought in this fashion of hearers — yet only so far as to beg an audience together. So at least I remember hearing from my teacher Quintilian.
Primus hunc audiendi morem induxit Larcius Licinus, hactenus tamen ut auditores corrogaret. Ita certe ex Quintiliano praeceptore meo audisse me memini.
He used to tell this: "I was attending Domitius Afer. As he was pleading before the Court of the Hundred gravely and slowly — for that was his manner of speaking — he hears from close by an immoderate and unwonted shout. Astonished, he fell silent; when silence had come, he took up again what he had broken off.
Narrabat ille: ’Assectabar Domitium Afrum. Cum apud centumviros diceret graviter et lente - hoc enim illi actionis genus erat -, audit ex proximo immodicum insolitumque clamorem. Admiratus reticuit; ubi silentium factum est, repetit quod abruperat.
Again the shout, again he fell silent, and after the silence began. A third time the same. At last he asked who was speaking. The answer came: ’Licinus.’ Then, breaking off the case: ’Members of the Court,’ he said, ’this art is dead.’"
Iterum clamor, iterum reticuit, et post silentium coepit. Idem tertio. Novissime quis diceret quaesiit. Responsum est: "Licinus." Tum intermissa causa "Centumviri," inquit, "hoc artificium periit."’
Which, though it was but beginning to die when it seemed to Afer already dead, is now well-nigh utterly extinguished and overthrown. I am ashamed to report what things are said, and with how mincing a delivery, and with what dainty shouts they are received.
Quod alioqui perire incipiebat cum perisse Afro videretur, nunc vero prope funditus exstinctum et eversum est. Pudet referre quae quam fracta pronuntiatione dicantur, quibus quam teneris clamoribus excipiantur.
Only applause — or rather, only cymbals and drums — are wanting to those songs: as for howling — for by no other word can a plaudit unseemly even for the theaters be expressed — of that there is abundance and to spare.
Plausus tantum ac potius sola cymbala et tympana illis canticis desunt: ululatus quidem - neque enim alio vocabulo potest exprimi theatris quoque indecora laudatio - large supersunt.
Yet so far both the interest of my friends and the reckoning of my years delay and hold me back; for I fear we might seem not to have left behind these indignities, but to have fled the labor. Still, I appear less often than my custom — which is the beginning of a gradual withdrawal. Farewell.
Nos tamen adhuc et utilitas amicorum et ratio aetatis moratur ac retinet; veremur enim ne forte non has indignitates reliquisse, sed laborem fugisse videamur. Sumus tamen solito rariores, quod initium est gradatim desinendi. Vale.
How do your old Marsian estates treat you? How the new purchase? Do the fields please, now that they have become yours? A rare thing, that — for nothing is so welcome to those who have gained a thing as it was to those who coveted it.
Quo modo te veteres Marsi tui? quo modo emptio nova Placent agri, postquam tui facti sunt? Rarum id quidem nihil enim aeque gratum est adeptis quam concupiscentibus.
My mother’s estates handle me none too kindly, yet they please me as my mother’s; and besides, by long endurance I have grown a thick skin. Continual complaints have this end: that one grows ashamed to complain. Farewell.
Me praedia materna parum commode tractant, delectant tamen ut materna, et alioqui longa patientia occallui. Habent hunc finem assiduae querellae, quod queri pudet. Vale.
You, with your usual diligence, advise me that the codicils of Acilianus — who made me heir to a part — are to be held as unwritten, because they were not confirmed by the will;
Tu quidem pro cetera tua diligentia admones me codicillos Aciliani, qui me ex parte instituit heredem, pro non scriptis habendos, quia non sint confirmati testamento;
a point of law not unknown even to me, since it is known even to those who know nothing else. But I have laid down for myself a private law of my own: to uphold the wishes of the dead, even where they fall short in law, as though they were complete. And it is agreed that these codicils of Acilianus were written in his own hand.
quod ius ne mihi quidem ignotum est, cum sit iis etiam notum, qui nihil aliud sciunt. Sed ego propriam quandam legem mihi dixi, ut defunctorum voluntates, etiamsi iure deficerentur, quasi perfectas tuerer. Constat autem codicillos istos Aciliani manu scriptos.
Though, then, they were not confirmed by the will, by me they will be observed as though confirmed, especially since there is no opening for an informer.
Licet ergo non sint confirmati testamento, a me tamen ut confirmati observabuntur, praesertim cum delatori locus non sit.
For if it were to be feared that the people might snatch away what I had given, I ought perhaps to be more hesitant and more cautious; but since an heir is allowed to give away what has settled into the inheritance, there is nothing to stand against that law of mine, with which the public laws do not contend. Farewell.
Nam si verendum esset ne quod ego dedissem populus eriperet, cunctantior fortasse et cautior esse deberem; cum vero liceat heredi donare, quod in hereditate subsedit, nihil est quod obstet illi meae legi, cui publicae leges non repugnant. Vale.
You wonder why my Laurentine place — or my Laurentian, if you prefer — delights me so greatly; you will cease to wonder when you learn the charm of the villa, the convenience of its site, the breadth of its shore.
Miraris cur me Laurentinum vel - si ita mavis -, Laurens meum tanto opere delectet; desines mirari, cum cognoveris gratiam villae, opportunitatem loci, litoris spatium.
It lies seventeen miles from the city, so that, your day’s business done, you may stay there with the day still whole and settled. It is reached by more than one road; for both the Laurentine and the Ostian lead to the same point, but the Laurentine must be left at the fourteenth milestone, the Ostian at the eleventh. From either side the road that takes you on is in part sandy — a little heavier and longer for a carriage, short and soft for a horse.
Decem septem milibus passuum ab urbe secessit, ut peractis quae agenda fuerint salvo iam et composito die possis ibi manere. Aditur non una via; nam et Laurentina et Ostiensis eodem ferunt, sed Laurentina a quarto decimo lapide, Ostiensis ab undecimo relinquenda est. Utrimque excipit iter aliqua ex parte harenosum, iunctis paulo gravius et longius, equo breve et molle.
The face of things is varied on this side and that; for now the road is narrowed by woods that meet it, now it spreads and opens out over the widest meadows; many flocks of sheep, many herds of horses and cattle, which, driven down from the mountains in winter, grow sleek on the grass and the warmth of spring. The villa is roomy for use, not costly to keep up.
Varia hinc atque inde facies; nam modo occurrentibus silvis via coartatur, modo latissimis pratis diffunditur et patescit; multi greges ovium, multa ibi equorum boum armenta, quae montibus hieme depulsa herbis et tepore verno nitescunt. Villa usibus capax, non sumptuosa tutela.
In its front part is a hall, plain yet not mean; then colonnades curved into the likeness of the letter D, enclosing a small but cheerful court. An excellent refuge this against storms; for they are guarded by window-glass and, far more, by the overhanging eaves.
Cuius in prima parte atrium frugi, nec tamen sordidum; deinde porticus in D litterae similitudinem circumactae, quibus parvola sed festiva area includitur. Egregium hac adversus tempestates receptaculum; nam specularibus ac multo magis imminentibus rectis muniuntur.
Opposite the middle of them is a cheerful inner court, then a dining-room handsome enough, which runs out toward the shore, and whenever the sea is driven on by the southwest wind, is lightly washed by the now broken and last of the waves. On every side it has folding doors, or windows no smaller than the doors, and so from the sides and the front it looks out on what seem three seas; at the back it looks back on the inner court, a colonnade, the courtyard, a colonnade again, then the hall, the woods, and the distant mountains.
Est contra medias cavaedium hilare, mox triclinium satis pulchrum, quod in litus excurrit ac si quando Africo mare impulsum est, fractis iam et novissimis fluctibus leviter alluitur. Undique valvas aut fenestras non minores valvis habet atque ita a lateribus a fronte quasi tria maria prospectat; a tergo cavaedium porticum aream porticum rursus, mox atrium silvas et longinquos respicit montes.
To the left of this, set back a little, is a large bedchamber; then another, smaller, which by one window lets in the rising sun, by the other holds the setting; through this latter it looks also on the sea below — farther off, indeed, but more at ease.
Huius a laeva retractius paulo cubiculum est amplum, deinde aliud minus quod altera fenestra admittit orientem, occidentem altera retinet; hac et subiacens mare longius quidem sed securius intuetur.
By the meeting of this bedchamber and that dining-room an angle is enclosed which gathers and kindles the purest sunshine. This is my winter-quarters, this too the exercise-ground of my household; here all the winds are hushed, save those that bring on cloud, and they take away the clear sky before they take away the use of the place.
Huius cubiculi et triclinii illius obiectu includitur angulus, qui purissimum solem continet et accendit. Hoc hibernaculum, hoc etiam gymnasium meorum est; ibi omnes silent venti, exceptis qui nubilum inducunt, et serenum ante quam usum loci eripiunt.
To this angle is joined a bedchamber curved into an apse, which follows the sun’s circuit with all its windows. Into its wall, in the fashion of a library, a cabinet is set, holding the books not to be read once but read again and again.
Annectitur angulo cubiculum in hapsida curvatum, quod ambitum solis fenestris omnibus sequitur. Parieti eius in bibliothecae speciem armarium insertum est, quod non legendos libros sed lectitandos capit.
Adjoining is a sleeping-wing, with a passage running between, which, raised on a hollow floor and fitted with flues, takes the heat it gathers and, at a wholesome temper, distributes and serves it this way and that. The remaining part of this side is given over to the use of slaves and freedmen, most of the rooms so neat that they could receive guests.
Adhaeret dormitorium membrum transitu interiacente, qui suspensus et tubulatus conceptum vaporem salubri temperamento huc illuc digerit et ministrat. Reliqua pars lateris huius servorum libertorumque usibus detinetur, plerisque tam mundis, ut accipere hospites possint.
On the other side is a most elegant bedchamber; then either a great bedchamber or a modest dining-room, which shines with the fullest sun, the fullest sea; behind it a bedchamber with an antechamber, summery in its height, wintry in its defenses; for it is withdrawn from all the winds. To this bedchamber another, with its antechamber, is joined by a party wall.
Ex alio latere cubiculum est politissimum; deinde vel cubiculum grande vel modica cenatio, quae plurimo sole, plurimo mari lucet; post hanc cubiculum cum procoetone, altitudine aestivum, munimentis hibernum; est enim subductum omnibus ventis. Huic cubiculo aliud et procoeton communi pariete iunguntur.
Next, the cold room of the bath, spacious and ample, in whose opposite walls two basins curve out as though flung forth, abundantly roomy if you bear in mind the sea close by. Adjoining is the anointing-room, the furnace-room, adjoining the stoke-hole of the bath, then two chambers more elegant than costly; close by is a wonderful warm pool, from which the swimmers look out on the sea,
Inde balinei cella frigidaria spatiosa et effusa, cuius in contrariis parietibus duo baptisteria velut eiecta sinuantur, abunde capacia si mare in proximo cogites. Adiacet unctorium, hypocauston, adiacet propnigeon balinei, mox duae cellae magis elegantes quam sumptuosae; cohaeret calida piscina mirifica, ex qua natantes mare aspiciunt,
and not far off a ball-court, which meets the hottest sun when the day is now declining. Here a tower rises, beneath which are two apartments, as many within it, and besides a dining-room that commands the widest sea, the longest shore, the loveliest villas.
nec procul sphaeristerium quod calidissimo soli inclinato iam die occurrit. Hic turris erigitur, sub qua diaetae duae, totidem in ipsa, praeterea cenatio quae latissimum mare longissimum litus villas amoenissimas possidet.
There is another tower as well; in it a bedchamber in which the sun is born and laid to rest; behind, a broad store-room and granary, and below this a dining-room which suffers of the troubled sea only the crash and the sound — and that already faint and dying away; it looks on the garden and the riding-drive by which the garden is enclosed.
Est et alia turris; in hac cubiculum, in quo sol nascitur conditurque; lata post apotheca et horreum, sub hoc triclinium, quod turbati maris non nisi fragorem et sonum patitur, eumque iam languidum ac desinentem; hortum et gestationem videt, qua hortus includitur.
The riding-drive is bordered with box, or with rosemary where the box fails; for the box, where it is sheltered by buildings, is abundantly green; under the open sky and the open wind, and though the sea’s spray is far off, it withers.
Gestatio buxo aut rore marino, ubi deficit buxus, ambitur; nam buxus, qua parte defenditur tectis, abunde viret; aperto caelo apertoque vento et quamquam longinqua aspergine maris inarescit.
Along the riding-drive, on its inner round, lies a vine young and shady, soft and yielding even to bare feet. The garden is clothed with mulberry and fig in plenty — trees for which that soil is most fruitful, though grudging to the rest. With this prospect, no worse than the sea’s, a dining-room set back from the sea enjoys itself; it is girt at the back by two apartments, beneath whose windows lie the villa’s forecourt and another garden, rich and rustic.
Adiacet gestationi interiore circumitu vinea tenera et umbrosa, nudisque etiam pedibus mollis et cedens. Hortum morus et ficus frequens vestit, quarum arborum illa vel maxime ferax terra est, malignior ceteris. Hac non deteriore quam maris facie cenatio remota a mari fruitur, cingitur diaetis duabus a tergo, quarum fenestris subiacet vestibulum villae et hortus alius pinguis et rusticus.
From here a covered gallery, almost the scale of a public work, stretches out. On both sides are windows — more toward the sea, single ones toward the garden, but on alternate spaces fewer. These, when the day is clear and still, all stand open; when it is troubled by winds on this side or that, those open without harm where the winds are at rest.
Hinc cryptoporticus prope publici operis extenditur. Utrimque fenestrae, a mari plures, ab horto singulae sed alternis pauciores. Hae cum serenus dies et immotus, omnes, cum hinc vel inde ventis inquietus, qua venti quiescunt sine iniuria patent.
Before the gallery is a terrace fragrant with violets. The warmth of the poured-in sun the gallery increases by reflection, and, as it holds the sun, so it checks and drives off the north wind; and there is as much cold behind it as heat before. In the same way it stays the southwest wind, and thus on one side and another breaks and ends the most contrary winds. This is its pleasantness in winter; in summer greater still.
Ante cryptoporticum xystus violis odoratus. Teporem solis infusi repercussu cryptoporticus auget, quae ut tenet solem sic aquilonem inhibet summovetque, quantumque caloris ante tantum retro frigoris; similiter africum sistit, atque ita diversissimos ventos alium alio latere frangit et finit. Haec iucunditas eius hieme, maior aestate.
For before noon it tempers the terrace with its shade, after noon the nearest part of the riding-drive and garden — a shade which, as the day has grown or shrunk, falls now shorter, now longer, on this side or that.
Nam ante meridiem xystum, post meridiem gestationis hortique proximam partem umbra sua temperat, quae, ut dies crevit decrevitve, modo brevior modo longior hac vel illa cadit.
But the gallery itself is most without sun just when the sun is hottest upon its ridge. And with its windows open it takes in the west winds and lets them through, and is never made heavy by sluggish, standing air.
Ipsa vero cryptoporticus tum maxime caret sole, cum ardentissimus culmini eius insistit. Ad hoc patentibus fenestris favonios accipit transmittitque nec umquam aere pigro et manente ingravescit.
At the head of the terrace, and next to the garden-gallery, is an apartment — my darling, in truth my darling: I built it myself. In it is a sun-room, which on one side looks on the terrace, on another the sea, on both the sun; while the bedchamber, through its folding doors, looks on the gallery, and through a window on the sea.
In capite xysti, deinceps cryptoporticus horti, diaeta est amores mei, re vera amores: ipse posui. In hac heliocaminus quidem alia xystum, alia mare, utraque solem, cubiculum autem valvis cryptoporticum, fenestra prospicit mare.
Against the middle of the wall a recess withdraws most elegantly, which, as the glass and the curtains are drawn across or drawn back, is now added to the bedchamber, now taken from it. It holds a couch and two chairs; at the foot, the sea; at the back, the villas; at the head, the woods: so many faces of places it both separates and blends through as many windows.
Contra parietem medium zotheca perquam eleganter recedit, quae specularibus et velis obductis reductisve modo adicitur cubiculo modo aufertur. Lectum et duas cathedras capit; a pedibus mare, a tergo villae, a capite silvae: tot facies locorum totidem fenestris et distinguit et miscet.
Joined to it is a bedchamber for night and sleep. It feels neither the voices of the young slaves, nor the murmur of the sea, nor the heaving of storms, nor the flash of lightning, nor even the day, unless the windows are open. The reason for so deep and hidden a seclusion is that a passage runs between, parting the wall of the bedchamber from the garden, and so swallows up every sound in the empty space between.
Iunctum est cubiculum noctis et somni. Non illud voces servolorum, non maris murmur, non tempestatum motus non fulgurum lumen, ac ne diem quidem sentit, nisi fenestris apertis. Tam alti abditique secreti illa ratio, quod interiacens andron parietem cubiculi hortique distinguit atque ita omnem sonum media inanitate consumit.
Attached to the bedchamber is a very small heating-chamber, which, through a narrow window, either pours out or keeps in the heat set beneath, as the need requires. Beyond, an antechamber and a bedchamber reach out toward the sun, which, caught at once at its rising, they keep past noon — slanting, indeed, but kept all the same.
Applicitum est cubiculo hypocauston perexiguum, quod angusta fenestra suppositum calorem, ut ratio exigit, aut effundit aut retinet. Procoeton inde et cubiculum porrigitur in solem, quem orientem statim exceptum ultra meridiem oblicum quidem sed tamen servat.
When I have withdrawn into this apartment, I seem to myself to be away even from my own villa, and I take a great pleasure in it especially at the Saturnalia, when the rest of the house rings with the license of the days and the festive shouts; for neither do I disturb my household’s games, nor they my studies.
In hanc ego diaetam cum me recepi, abesse mihi etiam a villa mea videor, magnamque eius voluptatem praecipue Saturnalibus capio, cum reliqua pars tecti licentia dierum festisque clamoribus personat; nam nec ipse meorum lusibus nec illi studiis meis obstrepunt.
This usefulness, this loveliness, lacks only running water; but it has wells, or rather springs, for they lie at the very surface. And altogether the nature of that shore is wonderful: wherever you stir the ground, water meets you, ready and at hand, and that pure and not even slightly tainted by so great a nearness of the sea.
Haec utilitas haec amoenitas deficitur aqua salienti, sed puteos ac potius fontes habet; sunt enim in summo. Et omnino litoris illius mira natura: quacumque loco moveris humum, obvius et paratus umor occurrit, isque sincerus ac ne leviter quidem tanta maris vicinitate corruptus.
The neighboring woods supply firewood in plenty; the rest of the provisions the colony of Ostia furnishes. For a thrifty man even the village suffices, which a single villa parts off from us. In it are three hired baths — a great convenience, if perchance a sudden arrival or too short a stay should make it not worth heating the bath at home.
Suggerunt affatim ligna proximae silvae; ceteras copias ostiensis colonia ministrat. Frugi quidem homini sufficit etiam vicus, quem una villa discernit. In hoc balinea meritoria tria, magna commoditas, si forte balineum domi vel subitus adventus vel brevior mora calfacere dissuadeat.
The shore is adorned, in a most pleasing variety, by the roofs of villas, now continuous, now broken apart, which present the look of many cities, whether you take to the sea or to the shore itself — a shore which a long calm sometimes softens, but more often the frequent and contrary wave makes firm.
Litus ornant varietate gratissima nunc continua nunc intermissa tecta villarum, quae praestant multarum urbium faciem, sive mari sive ipso litore utare; quod non numquam longa tranquillitas mollit, saepius frequens et contrarius fluctus indurat.
The sea, to be sure, does not abound in costly fish, yet it casts up the best soles and prawns. Our villa, indeed, supplies even inland riches — milk above all; for the herds gather there from the pastures, whenever they make for water or shade.
Mare non sane pretiosis piscibus abundat, soleas tamen et squillas optimas egerit. Villa vero nostra etiam mediterraneas copias praestat, lac in primis; nam illuc e pascuis pecora conveniunt, si quando aquam umbramve sectantur.
Do I now seem to you, for just reasons, to dwell in, to inhabit, to love this retreat? You are too much the townsman if you do not covet it. And would that you might covet it! so that to the many and great endowments of my little villa the greatest recommendation of all might be added — your company. Farewell.
Iustisne de causis iam tibi videor incolere inhabitare diligere secessum? quem tu nimis urbanus es nisi concupiscis. Atque utinam concupiscas! ut tot tantisque dotibus villulae nostrae maxima commendatio ex tuo contubernio accedat. Vale.
What more pleasant charge could you have laid on me than to seek a teacher for your brother’s children? For by your kindness I go back to school, and resume, as it were, that sweetest age: I sit among the young as I used to, and even test how much authority among them I draw from my studies.
Quid a te mihi iucundius potuit iniungi, quam ut praeceptorem fratris tui liberis quaererem? Nam beneficio tuo in scholam redeo, et illam dulcissimam aetatem quasi resumo: sedeo inter iuvenes ut solebam, atque etiam experior quantum apud illos auctoritatis ex studiis habeam.
For lately, in a crowded lecture-hall, they were joking aloud among themselves before many of our order; I came in, they fell silent — which I would not report, were it not more to their credit than to mine, and did I not wish you to hope that your brother’s sons can learn as they ought.
Nam proxime frequenti auditorio inter se coram multis ordinis nostri clare iocabantur; intravi, conticuerunt; quod non referrem, nisi ad illorum magis laudem quam ad meam pertineret, ac nisi sperare te vellem posse fratris tui filios probe discere.
For the rest, when I have heard all who profess the art, I will write you what I think of each, and bring it about — so far as a letter can — that you yourself seem to have heard them all.
Quod superest, cum omnes qui profitentur audiero, quid de quoque sentiam scribam, efficiamque quantum tamen epistula consequi potero, ut ipse omnes audisse videaris.
For I owe to you, I owe to the memory of your brother, this fidelity, this zeal, especially in a matter so great. For what concerns you more than that the children — I would say yours, did you not now love them the more — be found worthy of that father, and of you their uncle? a care which, even had you not entrusted it to me, I should have claimed for my own.
Debeo enim tibi, debeo memoriae fratris tui hanc fidem hoc studium, praesertim super tanta re. Nam quid magis interest vestra, quam ut liberi - dicerem tui, nisi nunc illos magis amares - digni illo patre, te patruo reperiantur? quam curam mihi etiam si non mandasses vindicassem.
Nor am I unaware that in choosing a teacher offenses must be incurred; but it behooves me to undergo, for your brother’s sons, not only offenses but feuds even, with as even a temper as parents do for their own. Farewell.
Nec ignoro suscipiendas offensas in eligendo praeceptore, sed oportet me non modo offensas, verum etiam simultates pro fratris tui filiis tam aequo animo subire quam parentes pro suis. Vale.
You urge me to recite my speech before a larger company of friends. I will do it because you urge it, though I have grave doubts.
Hortaris ut orationem amicis pluribus recitem. Faciam quia hortaris, quamvis vehementer addubitem.
For it does not escape me that speeches which are recited lose all their force and heat, and almost their very name, since the things that are wont to commend and at the same time to kindle them are the sitting of the judges, the throng of advocates, the suspense of the outcome, the reputation of more than one pleader, and the partisan zeal of the audience divided into sides; and besides, the speaker’s gesture, his pacing, his ranging to and fro, and a vigor of body answering to every motion of the mind.
Neque enim me praeterit actiones, quae recitantur, impetum omnem caloremque ac prope nomen suum perdere, ut quas soleant commendare simul et accendere iudicum consessus, celebritas advocatorum, exspectatio eventus, fama non unius actoris, diductumque in partes audientium studium, ad hoc dicentis gestus incessus, discursus etiam omnibusque motibus animi consentaneus vigor corporis.
Whence it happens that those who plead sitting, though for the most part the same advantages remain to them as to those who stand, are yet, by this alone, that they sit, as it were weakened and pressed down.
Unde accidit ut ii qui sedentes agunt, quamvis illis maxima ex parte supersint eadem illa quae stantibus, tamen hoc quod sedent quasi debilitentur et deprimantur.
But for those who recite, the chief aids of delivery — the eyes, the hands — are hampered. The less wonder, then, if the hearers’ attention slackens, caught by no allurements from without and pricked by no goads.
Recitantium vero praecipua pronuntiationis adiumenta, oculi manus, praepediuntur. Quo minus mirum est, si auditorum intentio relanguescit, nullis extrinsecus aut blandimentis capta aut aculeis excitata.
Add to these that the speech of which I speak is combative and, as it were, contentious. And nature has so arranged it that what we have written with labor, we suppose to be heard with labor too.
Accedit his quod oratio de qua loquor pugnax et quasi contentiosa est. Porro ita natura comparatum est, ut ea quae scripsimus cum labore, cum labore etiam audiri putemus.
And indeed, how few hearers are so upright that the sweet and sonorous does not please them more than the austere and compressed? There is, to be sure, something altogether shameful in that discord; yet it exists, because it commonly happens that hearers demand one thing, judges another — when otherwise the hearer ought to be moved above all by the very things by which, were he the judge, he would be most stirred.
Et sane quotus quisque tam rectus auditor, quem non potius dulcia haec et sonantia quam austera et pressa delectent? Est quidem omnino turpis ista discordia, est tamen, quia plerumque evenit ut aliud auditores aliud iudices exigant, cum alioqui iis praecipue auditor affici debeat, quibus idem si foret iudex, maxime permoveretur.
Yet it may be that, despite these difficulties, novelty lends this book a charm — novelty among our own people; for among the Greeks there is something which, though approached from the opposite side, is yet not altogether unlike.
Potest tamen fieri ut quamquam in his difficultatibus libro isti novitas lenocinetur, novitas apud nostros; apud Graecos enim est quiddam quamvis ex diverso, non tamen omnino dissimile.
For as it was their custom to convict laws, which they argued were contrary to earlier laws, by comparison with others, so we had to gather that what we were demanding lay within the extortion law — both from that law itself and from others; a thing by no means agreeable to the ears of the unlearned, which ought to have all the more favor with the learned, by as much as it has less with the unlearned.
Nam ut illis erat moris, leges quas ut contrarias prioribus legibus arguebant, aliarum collatione convincere, ita nobis inesse repetundarum legi quod postularemus, cum hac ipsa lege tum aliis colligendum fuit; quod nequaquam blandum auribus imperitorum, tanto maiorem apud doctos habere gratiam debet, quanto minorem apud indoctos habet.
But if it be resolved to recite, I shall bring in all the most learned men. Yet weigh well with yourself whether it should be recited at all, and set out on either side all the counters I have moved, and choose that side on which reason has won. For of you the reckoning will be required; me my compliance will excuse. Farewell.
Nos autem si placuerit recitare adhibituri sumus eruditissimum quemque. Sed plane adhuc an sit recitandum examina tecum, omnesque quos ego movi in utraque parte calculos pone, idque elige in quo vicerit ratio. A te enim ratio exigetur, nos excusabit obsequium. Vale.
Have your penny ready and take a golden tale — tales, rather; for a new one has put me in mind of the old, and it does not matter with which I begin.
Assem para et accipe auream fabulam, fabulas immo; nam me priorum nova admonuit, nec refert a qua potissimum incipiam.
Verania, wife of Piso, lay gravely ill — Piso, I mean, whom Galba adopted. To her came Regulus. First, the man’s impudence, in coming to a sick woman, to whose husband he had been the bitterest enemy, and to herself most hateful!
Verania Pisonis graviter iacebat, huius dico Pisonis, quem Galba adoptavit. Ad hanc Regulus venit. Primum impudentiam hominis, qui venerit ad aegram, cuius marito inimicissimus, ipsi invisissimus fuerat!
Let that pass, if he only came; but he even sat down close by her couch, and asked on what day, at what hour, she had been born. When he had heard, he composes his face, fixes his eyes, moves his lips, works his fingers, reckons. Nothing. When he had long kept the poor woman in suspense, "You have," he says, "a critical year, but you will come through it.
Esto, si venit tantum; at ille etiam proximus toro sedit, quo die qua hora nata esset interrogavit. Ubi audiit, componit vultum intendit oculos movet labra, agitat digitos computat. Nihil. Ut diu miseram exspectatione suspendit, ’habes’ inquit ’climacterium tempus sed evades.
And that it may be the clearer to you, I will consult a soothsayer, whom I have often put to the test."
Quod ut tibi magis liqueat, haruspicem consulam, quem sum frequenter expertus.’
Without delay he performs a sacrifice, affirms that the entrails agree with the import of the stars. She, credulous as one in danger, calls for her tablets and writes a bequest to Regulus. Soon she worsens, and dying cries out that the man is a knave, a traitor, and worse even than a perjurer, who had forsworn himself to her by the life of his son.
Nec mora, sacrificium facit, affirmat exta cum siderum significatione congruere. Illa ut in periculo credula poscit codicillos, legatum Regulo scribit. Mox ingravescit, clamat moriens hominem nequam perfidum ac plus etiam quam periurum, qui sibi per salutem filii peierasset.
This Regulus does no less wickedly than often: that he calls down the wrath of the gods, whom he himself daily cheats, upon the head of his luckless boy.
Facit hoc Regulus non minus scelerate quam frequenter, quod iram deorum, quos ipse cotidie fallit, in caput infelicis pueri detestatur.
Velleius Blaesus, that wealthy man of consular rank, was struggling in his last illness: he wished to change his will. Regulus, who hoped for something out of the new tablets, since he had lately begun to court him, kept urging and begging the physicians to prolong the man’s breath by any means at all.
Velleius Blaesus ille locuples consularis novissima valetudine conflictabatur: cupiebat mutare testamentum. Regulus qui speraret aliquid ex novis tabulis, quia nuper captare eum coeperat, medicos hortari rogare, quoquo modo spiritum homini prorogarent.
After the will was sealed, he changes his mask, turns his address, and to those same physicians: "How long will you torture the wretched man? Why do you begrudge a good death to one to whom you cannot give life?" Blaesus dies, and, as though he had heard it all, leaves Regulus not even the least little thing.
Postquam signatum est testamentum, mutat personam, vertit allocutionem isdemque medicis: ’Quousque miserum cruciatis? quid invidetis bona morte, cui dare vitam non potestis?’ Moritur Blaesus et, tamquam omnia audisset, Regulo ne tantulum quidem.
Do two tales suffice, or by the rule of the schools do you demand a third? There is the stuff for one.
Sufficiunt duae fabulae, an scholastica lege tertiam poscis? est unde fiat.
Aurelia, a woman of distinction, about to seal her will, had put on her loveliest tunics. When Regulus had come to witness the sealing, "I ask you," he says, "to bequeath these to me."
Aurelia ornata femina signatura testamentum sumpserat pulcherrimas tunicas. Regulus cum venisset ad signandum, ’Rogo’ inquit ’has mihi leges.’
Aurelia thought the man was joking; he pressed in earnest; in short, he forced the woman to open her tablets and bequeath to him the very tunics she had on; he watched her writing, looked to see whether she had written it. And Aurelia, indeed, is alive, yet he forced this from her as though she were about to die. And this man takes inheritances, takes legacies, as though he deserved them.
Aurelia ludere hominem putabat, ille serio instabat; ne multa, coegit mulierem aperire tabulas ac sibi tunicas quas erat induta legare; observavit scribentem, inspexit an scripsisset. Et Aurelia quidem vivit, ille tamen istud tamquam morituram coegit. Et hic hereditates, hic legata quasi mereatur accipit.
But why do I exert myself in a city in which, this long while now, worthlessness and knavery have rewards no smaller — nay, greater — than decency and virtue?
Ἀλλὰ τί διατείνομαι in ea civitate, in qua iam pridem non minora praemia, immo maiora nequitia et improbitas quam pudor et virtus habent?
Look at Regulus, who from poor and slender means has advanced, through his villainies, to such wealth that he told me himself, when he was consulting how soon he would round out sixty million sesterces, that he had found double entrails, by which it was portended he would have a hundred and twenty million.
Aspice Regulum, qui ex paupere et tenui ad tantas opes per flagitia processit, ut ipse mihi dixerit, cum consuleret quam cito sestertium sescentiens impleturus esset, invenisse se exta duplicia, quibus portendi miliens et ducentiens habiturum.
And have it he will, if only, as he has begun, he goes on dictating other men’s wills to the very men whose they are — which is the most wicked kind of forgery. Farewell.
Et habebit, si modo ut coepit, aliena testamenta, quod est improbissimum genus falsi, ipsis quorum sunt illa dictaverit. Vale.
I am not sure I have ever spent a more agreeable stretch of time than the one I lately passed with Spurinna — so agreeable, indeed, that there is no one I would rather take for my model in old age, if only it be granted me to grow old; for nothing is more finely ordered than that way of life.
Nescio an ullum iucundius tempus exegerim, quam quo nuper apud Spurinnam fui, adeo quidem ut neminem magis in senectute, si modo senescere datum est, aemulari velim; nihil est enim illo vitae genere distinctius.
A well-ordered human life delights me as the fixed courses of the stars do. The lives of old men especially: for a certain disorder, a sort of turbulence, does not ill become the young, but for the old all things should be calm and in order, men for whom exertion comes too late and ambition is unseemly.
Me autem ut certus siderum cursus ita vita hominum disposita delectat. Senum praesertim: nam iuvenes confusa adhuc quaedam et quasi turbata non indecent, senibus placida omnia et ordinata conveniunt, quibus industria sera turpis ambitio est.
This rule Spurinna keeps most steadfastly; and even these small matters — small, that is, if they are not done every day — he carries round in a fixed order and as it were a recurring cycle.
Hanc regulam Spurinna constantissime servat; quin etiam parva haec - parva si non cotidie fiant - ordine quodam et velut orbe circumagit.
In the morning he keeps to his couch; at the second hour he calls for his shoes and walks three miles, exercising his mind no less than his body. If friends are with him, the talk turns on the most honorable subjects; if not, a book is read aloud — sometimes even when friends are present, if they do not mind.
Mane lectulo continetur, hora secunda calceos poscit, ambulat milia passuum tria nec minus animum quam corpus exercet. Si adsunt amici, honestissimi sermones explicantur; si non, liber legitur, interdum etiam praesentibus amicis, si tamen illi non gravantur.
Then he sits down, and again a book — or talk, better than a book; presently he mounts his carriage and takes with him his wife, a woman of singular example, or one of his friends, as lately he took me.
Deinde considit, et liber rursus aut sermo libro potior; mox vehiculum ascendit, assumit uxorem singularis exempli vel aliquem amicorum, ut me proxime.
How lovely that retirement, how sweet! What a wealth of the old world is there! What deeds, what men you hear of! With what precepts you are steeped! — though he has imposed this restraint upon his own modesty, that he may not seem to be laying down rules.
Quam pulchrum illud, quam dulce secretum! quantum ibi antiquitatis! quae facta, quos viros audias! quibus praeceptis imbuare! quamvis ille hoc temperamentum modestiae suae indixerit, ne praecipere videatur.
When seven miles have been covered he walks another mile, sits down again, or gives himself back to his room and his pen. For he writes lyric poetry, and most learned, in both tongues: wonderful is their sweetness, wonderful their charm, wonderful their gaiety, and the grace of it is crowned by the purity of the man who writes.
Peractis septem milibus passuum iterum ambulat mille, iterum residit vel se cubiculo ac stilo reddit. Scribit enim et quidem utraque lingua lyrica doctissima; mira illis dulcedo, mira suavitas, mira hilaritas, cuius gratiam cumulat sanctitas scribentis.
When the hour of the bath is announced — in winter the ninth, in summer the eighth — he walks naked in the sun, if there is no wind. Then he plays at ball, hard and long; for by this kind of exercise too he does battle with old age. After bathing he lies down and for a little while puts off his food; meanwhile he listens to something read aloud, lighter and more agreeable. Through all this time his friends are free to do the same, or other things if they prefer.
Ubi hora balinei nuntiata est - est autem hieme nona, aestate octava -, in sole, si caret vento, ambulat nudus. Deinde movetur pila vehementer et diu; nam hoc quoque exercitationis genere pugnat cum senectute. Lotus accubat et paulisper cibum differt; interim audit legentem remissius aliquid et dulcius. Per hoc omne tempus liberum est amicis vel eadem facere vel alia si malint.
A dinner is set out no less elegant than frugal, on silver pure and old; there are Corinthian bronzes too in use, which give him pleasure without mastering him. Often the dinner is varied with comic players, that the pleasures too may be seasoned with study. He takes some of the night even in summer; and to no one does it seem long, so genially is the banquet drawn out.
Apponitur cena non minus nitida quam frugi, in argento puro et antiquo; sunt in usu et Corinthia, quibus delectatur nec afficitur. Frequenter comoedis cena distinguitur, ut voluptates quoque studiis condiantur. Sumit aliquid de nocte et aestate; nemini hoc longum est; tanta comitate convivium trahitur.
Hence, past his seventy-seventh year, his hearing and sight are still unimpaired; hence his body is nimble and vigorous, and of old age he has the prudence alone.
Inde illi post septimum et septuagensimum annum aurium oculorum vigor integer, inde agile et vividum corpus solaque ex senectute prudentia.
This is the life I anticipate in wish and in thought, and shall enter upon most eagerly the moment the reckoning of my years permits me to sound the retreat. Meanwhile I am worn down by a thousand labors — and for these my comfort and my model is again Spurinna;
Hanc ego vitam voto et cogitatione praesumo, ingressurus avidissime, ut primum ratio aetatis receptui canere permiserit. Interim mille laboribus conteror, quorum mihi et solacium et exemplum est idem Spurinna;
for he too, as long as it was honorable, discharged his duties, held magistracies, governed provinces, and earned this leisure by much toil. I set myself, therefore, the same course, the same term; and here and now I sign the bond before you, that if you see me carried out too far, you may summon me to law on the strength of this letter of mine and bid me rest — once I have escaped the charge of sloth. Farewell.
nam ille quoque, quoad honestum fuit, obiit officia, gessit magistratus, provincias rexit, multoque labore hoc otium meruit. Igitur eundem mihi cursum, eundem terminum statuo, idque iam nunc apud te subsigno ut, si me longius evehi videris, in ius voces ad hanc epistulam meam et quiescere iubeas, cum inertiae crimen effugero. Vale.
What I should myself have offered your friends, had the like occasion been within my means, I now seem entitled to ask of you on behalf of mine.
Quod ipse amicis tuis obtulissem, si mihi eadem materia suppeteret, id nunc iure videor a te meis petiturus.
Arrianus Maturus is the leading man of Altinum; and when I say leading man, I do not speak of his means, of which he has more than enough, but of his integrity, his justice, his dignity, his good sense.
Arrianus Maturus Altinatium est princeps; cum dico princeps, non de facultatibus loquor, quae illi large supersunt, sed de castitate iustitia, gravitate prudentia.
His counsel I use in affairs, his judgment in my studies; for he excels above all in good faith, in truthfulness, in understanding.
Huius ego consilio in negotiis, iudicio in studiis utor; nam plurimum fide, plurimum veritate, plurimum intellegentia praestat.
He loves me — I can say nothing more ardent — as you do. He is without ambition; and so he has kept himself within the equestrian rank, though he might easily rise to the highest. Yet it is for me to adorn and advance him.
Amat me - nihil possum ardentius dicere - ut tu. Caret ambitu; ideo se in equestri gradu tenuit, cum facile possit ascendere altissimum. Mihi tamen ornandus excolendusque est.
And so I count it a great thing to add something to his standing while he neither expects nor knows it — nay, perhaps even against his will; but to add what is honorable and not burdensome.
Itaque magni aestimo dignitati eius aliquid astruere inopinantis nescientis, immo etiam fortasse nolentis; astruere autem quod sit splendidum nec molestum.
Whatever first occasion of this kind offers itself to you, bestow it upon him, I beg; you will have me, and you will have him, as most grateful debtors. For though he does not seek such things, he receives them as gratefully as if he longed for them. Farewell.
Cuius generis quae prima occasio tibi, conferas in eum rogo; habebis me, habebis ipsum gratissimum debitorem. Quamvis enim ista non appetat, tam grate tamen excipit, quam si concupiscat. Vale.
Whether I revered or loved your father more — that most grave and most upright man — I cannot decide; and since I cherish you uniquely, both in his memory and in honor of yourself, I must needs wish, and shall labor as far as in me lies, that your son turn out like his grandfather — his mother’s father, for my part, by preference, though on his father’s side too there fell to him a grandfather famous and esteemed, and a father and an uncle conspicuous in illustrious renown.
Cum patrem tuum gravissimum et sanctissimum virum suspexerim magis an amaverim dubitem, teque et in memoriam eius et in honorem tuum unice diligam, cupiam necesse est atque etiam quantum in me fuerit enitar, ut filius tuus avo similis exsistat; equidem malo materno, quamquam illi paternus etiam clarus spectatusque contigerit, pater quoque et patruus illustri laude conspicui.
Like all of these he will grow up only if he is steeped in honorable accomplishments; and it matters very much from whom above all he receives them.
Quibus omnibus ita demum similis adolescet, si imbutus honestis artibus fuerit, quas plurimum refert a quo potissimum accipiat.
Hitherto the condition of boyhood has kept him within your household; he has had his teachers at home, where there is little or even no occasion for going astray. Now his studies must be carried beyond the threshold; now we must look about for a Latin rhetorician (a master of the art of public speaking) whose school stands firm in severity, in decency, and above all in chastity.
Adhuc illum pueritiae ratio intra contubernium tuum tenuit, praeceptores domi habuit, ubi est erroribus modica vel etiam nulla materia. Iam studia eius extra limen proferenda sunt, iam circumspiciendus rhetor Latinus, cuius scholae severitas pudor in primis castitas constet.
For our young man has, among his other gifts of nature and fortune, a singular beauty of body; and for him, in this slippery time of life, we must seek not a teacher only but a guardian and a guide as well.
Adest enim adulescenti nostro cum ceteris naturae fortunaeque dotibus eximia corporis pulchritudo, cui in hoc lubrico aetatis non praeceptor modo sed custos etiam rectorque quaerendus est.
I think, then, that I can point you to Julius Genitor. He is dear to me; yet my affection for the man does not stand in the way of my judgment, since the affection was born of the judgment. He is a man correct and grave, even somewhat rough and hard — as things go in this licentious age.
Videor ergo demonstrare tibi posse Iulium Genitorem. Amatur a me; iudicio tamen meo non obstat caritas hominis, quae ex iudicio nata est. Vir est emendatus et gravis, paulo etiam horridior et durior, ut in hac licentia temporum.
How much he is worth in eloquence you may take on more witnesses than mine, for a man’s faculty of speech is open and on display and seen at once; but a man’s life has deep recesses and great hiding-places, and for that, in Genitor’s case, take me as your surety. From this man your son will hear nothing that will not profit him, will learn nothing it would have been better not to know, and will be reminded by him no less often than by you or by me what ancestral images weigh upon him, what names and how great he has to uphold.
Quantum eloquentia valeat, pluribus credere potes, nam dicendi facultas aperta et exposita statim cernitur; vita hominum altos recessus magnasque latebras habet, cuius pro Genitore me sponsorem accipe. Nihil ex hoc viro filius tuus audiet nisi profuturum, nihil discet quod nescisse rectius fuerit, nec minus saepe ab illo quam a te meque admonebitur, quibus imaginibus oneretur, quae nomina et quanta sustineat.
So then, with the gods’ favor, hand him over to a teacher from whom he may learn first character and then eloquence — which is ill learned without character. Farewell.
Proinde faventibus dis trade eum praeceptori, a quo mores primum mox eloquentiam discat, quae male sine moribus discitur. Vale.
Although both the friends I had at hand and the talk of men seem to have approved what I did, I still set great store by knowing what you think.
Quamvis et amici quos praesentes habebam, et sermones hominum factum meum comprobasse videantur, magni tamen aestimo scire quid sentias tu.
For the man whose counsel I should have wished to seek while the matter was untouched — his judgment, now that it is done, I am strangely eager to know. When I had run out to my Tuscan estate to begin, at my own expense, a public work, having taken leave as prefect of the treasury, the deputies of the province of Baetica, meaning to lodge a complaint about the proconsulship of Caecilius Classicus, asked the senate for me as their advocate.
Nam cuius integra re consilium exquirere optassem, huius etiam peracta iudicium nosse mire concupisco. Cum publicum opus mea pecunia incohaturus in Tuscos excucurrissem, accepto ut praefectus aerari commeatu, legati provinciae Baeticae, questuri de proconsulatu Caecili Classici, advocatum me a senatu petiverunt.
My colleagues, the best of men and most devoted to me, having first spoken of the demands of our common office, tried to excuse and exempt me. A decree of the senate was passed, most honorable to me, that I should be given to the provincials as their patron if they obtained my consent from me myself.
Collegae optimi meique amantissimi, de communis officii necessitatibus praelocuti, excusare me et eximere temptarunt. Factum est senatus consultum perquam honorificum, ut darer provincialibus patronus si ab ipso me impetrassent.
The deputies, brought in again, demanded me a second time, now present, as their advocate, imploring that good faith of mine which they had proved against Baebius Massa, and alleging the bond of patronage. There followed the senate’s loud assent, which is wont to run ahead of its decrees. Then I said: "I cease, conscript fathers, to think that I have brought forward just grounds for being excused." Both the modesty of the words and the reasoning pleased them.
Legati rursus inducti iterum me iam praesentem advocatum postulaverunt, implorantes fidem meam quam essent contra Massam Baebium experti, allegantes patrocini foedus. Secuta est senatus clarissima assensio, quae solet decreta praecurrere. Tum ego ’Desino’ inquam, ’patres conscripti, putare me iustas excusationis causas attulisse.’ Placuit et modestia sermonis et ratio.
What drove me to this decision was not only the consensus of the senate — though that above all — but certain other considerations too, lesser, yet still of weight. It came to my mind that our forebears had prosecuted, by voluntary accusations, even the wrongs done to single guest-friends; and the more shameful I judged it to neglect the obligations of a public guest-friendship.
Compulit autem me ad hoc consilium non solum consensus senatus, quamquam hic maxime, verum et alii quidam minores, sed tamen numeri. Veniebat in mentem priores nostros etiam singulorum hospitum iniurias voluntariis accusationibus exsecutos, quo deformius arbitrabar publici hospitii iura neglegere.
Besides, when I recalled how great were the dangers I had even undergone for these same Baeticans in an earlier advocacy, it seemed that the merit of the old service should be preserved by a new one. For it is so arranged that you overturn your earlier benefits unless you heap them up with later ones. For men, however often laid under obligation, if you refuse them any single thing, remember that one thing alone — the thing refused.
Praeterea cum recordarer, quanta pro isdem Baeticis superiore advocatione etiam pericula subissem, conservandum veteris officii meritum novo videbatur. Est enim ita comparatum ut antiquiora beneficia subvertas, nisi illa posterioribus cumules. Nam quamlibet saepe obligati, si quid unum neges, hoc solum meminerunt quod negatum est.
I was led on too by this, that Classicus had died, and what in cases of this kind is wont to be the most painful thing — the peril of a senator — was removed. I saw, therefore, that my advocacy was offered no less thanks than if he were alive, and no odium.
Ducebar etiam quod decesserat Classicus, amotumque erat quod in eiusmodi causis solet esse tristissimum, periculum senatoris. Videbam ergo advocationi meae non minorem gratiam quam si viveret ille propositam, invidiam nullam.
In sum, I reckoned that if I performed this duty now for the third time, my excuse would come the more easily should anyone turn up whom I ought not to accuse. For since there is some limit to all obligations, the indulgence to refuse is best prepared beforehand by compliance.
In summa computabam, si munere hoc iam tertio fungerer, faciliorem mihi excusationem fore, si quis incidisset, quem non deberem accusare. Nam cum est omnium officiorum finis aliquis, tum optime libertati venia obsequio praeparatur.
You have heard the motives of my decision: there remains your judgment, on the one side or the other; and in it the candor of your dissent will be as welcome to me as the authority of your approval. Farewell.
Audisti consilii mei motus: superest alterutra ex parte iudicium tuum, in quo mihi aeque iucunda erit simplicitas dissentientis quam comprobantis auctoritas. Vale.
It is most gratifying to me that you read the books of my uncle so diligently that you wish to possess them all, and ask which they all are.
Pergratum est mihi quod tam diligenter libros avunculi mei lectitas, ut habere omnes velis quaerasque qui sint omnes.
I will play the part of a catalogue, and will even make known to you the order in which they were written; for this too is not an unwelcome thing for the studious to learn.
Fungar indicis partibus, atque etiam quo sint ordine scripti notum tibi faciam; est enim haec quoque studiosis non iniucunda cognitio.
On Throwing the Javelin from Horseback, one book; this he composed while serving as commander of a cavalry squadron, with talent and care to match. On the Life of Pomponius Secundus, two books; loved by that man beyond the common measure, he discharged this as a kind of debt owed to a friend’s memory.
’De iaculatione equestri unus’; hunc cum praefectus alae militaret, pari ingenio curaque composuit. ’De vita Pomponi Secundi duo’; a quo singulariter amatus hoc memoriae amici quasi debitum munus exsolvit.
The German Wars, twenty books, in which he gathered all the wars we have waged with the Germans. He began it while serving in Germany, prompted by a dream: as he slept, there stood by him the likeness of Drusus Nero — who, victor over the widest reaches of Germany, perished there — commending his own memory to him and begging to be rescued from the wrong of oblivion.
’Bellorum Germaniae viginti’; quibus omnia quae cum Germanis gessimus bella collegit. Incohavit cum in Germania militaret, somnio monitus: astitit ei quiescenti Drusi Neronis effigies, qui Germaniae latissime victor ibi periit, commendabat memoriam suam orabatque ut se ab iniuria oblivionis assereret.
The Student, three books, divided into six volumes on account of their length, in which he forms the orator from the cradle and brings him to perfection. On Doubtful Diction, eight books: he wrote these under Nero, in his last years, when servitude had made every kind of study that was a little too free and upright a dangerous thing.
’Studiosi tres’, in sex volumina propter amplitudinem divisi, quibus oratorem ab incunabulis instituit et perficit. ’Dubii sermonis octo’: scripsit sub Nerone novissimis annis, cum omne studiorum genus paulo liberius et erectius periculosum servitus fecisset.
A Continuation of Aufidius Bassus, thirty-one books. The Natural History, thirty-seven books — a work copious and learned, and no less various than nature herself.
’A fine Aufidi Bassi triginta unus.’ ’Naturae historiarum triginta septem’, opus diffusum eruditum, nec minus varium quam ipsa natura.
Do you marvel that a man so busy completed so many volumes, and many of them treating matters of such minute detail? You will marvel the more when you learn that for a while he pleaded cases in the courts, that he died in his fifty-sixth year, and that the time between he passed pulled this way and that, encumbered now by the highest offices, now by the friendship of emperors.
Miraris quod tot volumina multaque in his tam scrupulosa homo occupatus absolverit? Magis miraberis si scieris illum aliquamdiu causas actitasse, decessisse anno sexto et quinquagensimo, medium tempus distentum impeditumque qua officiis maximis qua amicitia principum egisse.
But his was a keen intelligence, an incredible application, the utmost wakefulness. He would begin to work by lamplight at the Vulcanalia — not to take the omens but to study — at once, from the dead of night; in winter from the seventh hour, or at the very latest the eighth, often the sixth. He could fall asleep most readily — sleep that sometimes came upon him and left him again in the very midst of his studies.
Sed erat acre ingenium, incredibile studium, summa vigilantia. Lucubrare Vulcanalibus incipiebat non auspicandi causa sed studendi statim a nocte multa, hieme vero ab hora septima vel cum tardissime octava, saepe sexta. Erat sane somni paratissimi, non numquam etiam inter ipsa studia instantis et deserentis.
Before daybreak he would go to the emperor Vespasian — for he too made use of the nights — and from there to the duty assigned him. Returning home, he gave back to his studies what time was left.
Ante lucem ibat ad Vespasianum imperatorem - nam ille quoque noctibus utebatur -, inde ad delegatum sibi officium. Reversus domum quod reliquum temporis studiis reddebat.
After his meal — which in the daytime he took light and easy, after the manner of the ancients — often in summer, if there was any leisure, he would lie in the sun, a book was read aloud, and he made notes and extracts. For he read nothing without making an extract; he used to say, too, that no book was so bad as not to be useful in some part.
Post cibum saepe - quem interdiu levem et facilem veterum more sumebat - aestate si quid otii iacebat in sole, liber legebatur, adnotabat excerpebatque. Nihil enim legit quod non excerperet; dicere etiam solebat nullum esse librum tam malum ut non aliqua parte prodesset.
After the sun he generally bathed in cold water, then took a snack and slept the least bit; presently, as though on a new day, he studied until dinner-time. Over dinner a book was read aloud and annotated — and that at a run.
Post solem plerumque frigida lavabatur, deinde gustabat dormiebatque minimum; mox quasi alio die studebat in cenae tempus. Super hanc liber legebatur adnotabatur, et quidem cursim.
I remember that one of his friends, when the reader had pronounced certain words wrongly, called him back and made him repeat them; and my uncle said to him: "You had understood, surely?" When the man nodded, "Why then did you call him back? By this interruption of yours we have lost more than ten lines."
Memini quendam ex amicis, cum lector quaedam perperam pronuntiasset, revocasse et repeti coegisse; huic avunculum meum dixisse: ’Intellexeras nempe?’ Cum ille adnuisset, ’Cur ergo revocabas? decem amplius versus hac tua interpellatione perdidimus.’
So great was his thrift of time. In summer he rose from dinner while it was still light; in winter within the first hour of night, as though some law compelled him.
Tanta erat parsimonia temporis. Surgebat aestate a cena luce, hieme intra primam noctis et tamquam aliqua lege cogente.
This was amid the thick of his labors and the roar of the city. In retirement only the time of the bath was withdrawn from his studies — and when I say the bath, I mean the inner rooms; for while he was being scraped and rubbed down, he was hearing something read or dictating.
Haec inter medios labores urbisque fremitum. In secessu solum balinei tempus studiis eximebatur - cum dico balinei, de interioribus loquor; nam dum destringitur tergiturque, audiebat aliquid aut dictabat -.
On a journey, as though released from all other cares, he had leisure for this one thing: at his side a secretary with book and tablets, whose hands in winter were protected with long sleeves, so that not even the harshness of the weather might snatch away any time for study; and for this reason at Rome too he traveled in a sedan-chair.
In itinere quasi solutus ceteris curis, huic uni vacabat: ad latus notarius cum libro et pugillaribus, cuius manus hieme manicis muniebantur, ut ne caeli quidem asperitas ullum studii tempus eriperet; qua ex causa Romae quoque sella vehebatur.
I recall being rebuked by him for going on foot: "You might," he said, "not have wasted these hours"; for he reckoned all time lost that was not spent upon study.
Repeto me correptum ab eo, cur ambularem: ’poteras’ inquit ’has horas non perdere’; nam perire omne tempus arbitrabatur, quod studiis non impenderetur.
By this intensity he completed all those volumes, and left me a hundred and sixty notebooks of extracts, written on both sides and in the tiniest hand; by which reckoning the number is multiplied. He used to relate that, when he was procurator in Spain, he could have sold these notebooks to Larcius Licinus for four hundred thousand sesterces — and at that time they were considerably fewer.
Hac intentione tot ista volumina peregit electorumque commentarios centum sexaginta mihi reliquit, opisthographos quidem et minutissimis scriptos; qua ratione multiplicatur hic numerus. Referebat ipse potuisse se, cum procuraret in Hispania, vendere hos commentarios Larcio Licino quadringentis milibus nummum; et tunc aliquanto pauciores erant.
When you recall how much he read and how much he wrote, does he not seem to you to have held no offices at all and to have had no friendship with an emperor; and again, when you hear what labor he spent upon his studies, to have written and read not enough? For what is there that those occupations could not hinder, or this perseverance not accomplish?
Nonne videtur tibi recordanti, quantum legerit quantum scripserit, nec in officiis ullis nec in amicitia principis fuisse; rursus cum audis quid studiis laboris impenderit, nec scripsisse satis nec legisse? Quid est enim quod non aut illae occupationes impedire aut haec instantia non possit efficere?
And so I am wont to laugh when certain people call me studious — I who, compared with him, am the very idlest. I, indeed — distracted as I am partly by public, partly by friends’ obligations? Why, which of those men who sit at their books their whole life long, set beside him, would not blush as though given over to sleep and sloth?
Itaque soleo ridere cum me quidam studiosum vocant, qui si comparer illi sum desidiosissimus. Ego autem tantum, quem partim publica partim amicorum officia distringunt? quis ex istis, qui tota vita litteris assident, collatus illi non quasi somno et inertiae deditus erubescat?
I have stretched out my letter, when I had meant to write only the one thing you asked — what books he left; yet I trust that these too will be no less welcome to you than the books themselves, since they can rouse you, with the goads of emulation, not only to read them but even to work out something like them. Farewell.
Extendi epistulam cum hoc solum quod requirebas scribere destinassem, quos libros reliquisset; confido tamen haec quoque tibi non minus grata quam ipsos libros futura, quae te non tantum ad legendos eos verum etiam ad simile aliquid elaborandum possunt aemulationis stimulis excitare. Vale.
Out of a legacy that came to me, I lately bought a Corinthian bronze figure — modest, indeed, but charming and lifelike, so far as my taste goes; and my taste, perhaps in everything and in this certainly, is very slight: yet this figure even I can appreciate.
Ex hereditate quae mihi obvenit, emi proxime Corinthium signum, modicum quidem sed festivum et expressum, quantum ego sapio, qui fortasse in omni re, in hac certe perquam exiguum sapio: hoc tamen signum ego quoque intellego.
For it is naked, and neither hides such faults as there may be nor makes too little display of its merits. It represents an old man standing; the bones, the muscles, the sinews, the veins, even the wrinkles show as in a living, breathing man; the hair is thin and receding, the brow broad, the face shrunken, the neck spare; the arms hang slack, the breasts are flat, the belly has fallen in;
Est enim nudum, nec aut vitia si qua sunt celat, aut laudes parum ostentat. Effingit senem stantem; ossa musculi nervi, venae rugae etiam ut spirantis apparent; rari et cedentes capilli, lata frons, contracta facies, exile collum; pendent lacerti, papillae iacent, venter recessit;
from behind too the same age, so far as a back can show it. The bronze itself, as far as its true color tells, is old and ancient; in short, everything is such as can hold the eyes of artists and delight those of the untrained.
a tergo quoque eadem aetas ut a tergo. Aes ipsum, quantum verus color indicat, vetus et antiquum; talia denique omnia, ut possint artificum oculos tenere, delectare imperitorum.
And this, raw beginner though I am, tempted me to buy. But I bought it not to keep at home — for as yet I have no Corinthian piece at home — but to set it up in some frequented place in our native town, and best of all in the temple of Jupiter;
Quod me quamquam tirunculum sollicitavit ad emendum. Emi autem non ut haberem domi - neque enim ullum adhuc Corinthium domi habeo -, verum ut in patria nostra celebri loco ponerem, ac potissimum in Iovis templo;
for it seems a gift worthy of a temple, worthy of a god. Do you, then, as you do with everything I lay upon you, take this charge upon yourself, and order at once a base to be made, of whatever marble you please, to carry my name and titles, if you think these too should be added.
videtur enim dignum templo dignum deo donum. Tu ergo, ut soles omnia quae a me tibi iniunguntur, suscipe hanc curam, et iam nunc iube basim fieri, ex quo voles marmore, quae nomen meum honoresque capiat, si hos quoque putabis addendos.
The figure itself, as soon as I find someone who will not grudge the trouble, I will send you, or — which you would prefer — bring it myself; for I intend, if only the demands of my office permit, to run out there.
Ego signum ipsum, ut primum invenero aliquem qui non gravetur, mittam tibi vel ipse - quod mavis - afferam mecum. Destino enim, si tamen officii ratio permiserit, excurrere isto.
You rejoice that I promise to come, but you will knit your brow when I add "for a few days only": for the very things that do not yet let me get away do not let me be absent longer. Farewell.
Gaudes quod me venturum esse polliceor, sed contrahes frontem, cum adiecero ’ad paucos dies’: neque enim diutius abesse me eadem haec quae nondum exire patiuntur. Vale.
Word has just come that Silius Italicus has ended his life by starvation at his estate near Naples.
Modo nuntiatus est Silius Italicus in Neapolitano suo inedia finisse vitam.
The cause of his death was his health. An incurable tumor had grown upon him, and in weariness of it he ran down to death with a resolve past recall — happy and fortunate to his last day, save that he lost the younger of his two sons, but left the elder and better one in his prime and even of consular rank.
Causa mortis valetudo. Erat illi natus insanabilis clavus, cuius taedio ad mortem irrevocabili constantia decucurrit usque ad supremum diem beatus et felix, nisi quod minorem ex liberis duobus amisit, sed maiorem melioremque florentem atque etiam consularem reliquit.
He had wounded his good name under Nero — he was believed to have laid charges of his own accord — but in his friendship with Vitellius he had borne himself wisely and courteously, had brought home glory from his proconsulship of Asia, and had washed away the stain of his old activity by a praiseworthy retirement.
Laeserat famam suam sub Nerone - credebatur sponte accusasse -, sed in Vitelli amicitia sapienter se et comiter gesserat, ex proconsulatu Asiae gloriam reportaverat, maculam veteris industriae laudabili otio abluerat.
He was among the leading men of the state without power and without envy: he was waited upon and courted, and lying much upon his couch in a chamber always thronged — by no favor of his fortune — he passed his days in most learned conversation, when he had leisure from writing.
Fuit inter principes civitatis sine potentia, sine invidia: salutabatur colebatur, multumque in lectulo iacens cubiculo semper, non ex fortuna frequenti, doctissimis sermonibus dies transigebat, eum a scribendo vacaret.
He wrote verses with more care than genius, and now and then put men’s judgments to the test by public readings.
Scribebat carmina maiore cura quam ingenio, non numquam iudicia hominum recitationibus experiebatur.
At the last, his years so counseling, he withdrew from the city and kept to Campania, and not even the arrival of a new emperor stirred him from there:
Novissime ita suadentibus annis ab urbe secessit, seque in Campania tenuit, ac ne adventu quidem novi principis inde commotus est:
great praise to the Caesar under whom this was free, and great to the man who dared to use that freedom.
magna Caesaris laus sub quo hoc liberum fuit, magna illius qui hac libertate ausus est uti.
He was a lover of beauty, to the point of being reproached for buying too much. He owned several villas in the same districts, and once smitten with new ones would neglect the old. Everywhere a wealth of books, a wealth of statues, a wealth of portraits, which he not only possessed but even venerated — Virgil’s above all, whose birthday he kept more religiously than his own, at Naples especially, where he used to visit the poet’s tomb as if it were a temple.
Erat φιλόκαλος usque ad emacitatis reprehensionem. Plures isdem in locis villas possidebat, adamatisque novis priores neglegebat. Multum ubique librorum, multum statuarum, multum imaginum, quas non habebat modo, verum etiam venerabatur, Vergili ante omnes, cuius natalem religiosius quam suum celebrabat, Neapoli maxime, ubi monimentum eius adire ut templum solebat.
In this tranquillity he passed his seventy-fifth year, his body more delicate than infirm; and as he was the last man made consul by Nero, so he was the last of all whom Nero had made consuls to die.
In hac tranquillitate annum quintum et septuagensimum excessit, delicato magis corpore quam infirmo; utque novissimus a Nerone factus est consul, ita postremus ex omnibus, quos Nero consules fecerat, decessit.
This too is worth noting: he was the last of the Neronian consulars to die, and it was in his consulship that Nero perished. And as I recall it, a pity for the frailty of mankind comes over me.
Illud etiam notabile: ultimus ex Neronianis consularibus obiit, quo consule Nero periit. Quod me recordantem fragilitatis humanae miseratio subit.
For what is so cut short, so brief, as the longest life of man? Does not Nero seem to you to have been but just now? And yet meanwhile, of those who had held the consulship under him, not one remains.
Quid enim tam circumcisum tam breve quam hominis vita longissima? An non videtur tibi Nero modo modo fuisse? cum interim ex iis, qui sub illo gesserant consulatum, nemo iam superest.
And yet why do I marvel at this? Lately Lucius Piso — father of that Piso who was killed by Valerius Festus through an utter crime in Africa — used to say that he saw no one in the senate whom he himself, as consul, had called on for his opinion.
Quamquam quid hoc miror? Nuper L. Piso, pater Pisonis illius, qui Valerio Festo per summum facinus in Africa occisus est, dicere solebat neminem se videre in senatu, quem consul ipse sententiam rogavisset.
Within such narrow bounds is the very life-span of so great a multitude confined, that to me those royal tears seem worthy not of pardon only but even of praise; for they tell that Xerxes, when he had run his eyes over his immense army, wept, because so brief an end hung over so many thousands.
Tam angustis terminis tantae multitudinis vivacitas ipsa concluditur, ut mihi non venia solum dignae, verum etiam laude videantur illae regiae lacrimae; nam ferunt Xersen, cum immensum exercitum oculis obisset, illacrimasse, quod tot milibus tam brevis immineret occasus.
But all the more, then, let us prolong this span of time, fleeting and perishable as it is, by our studies at least, if it is not granted us by deeds — for the material of these lies in another’s hand; and since long life is denied us, let us leave behind something to bear witness that we have lived.
Sed tanto magis hoc, quidquid est temporis futilis et caduci, si non datur factis - nam horum materia in aliena manu -, certe studiis proferamus, et quatenus nobis denegatur diu vivere, relinquamus aliquid, quo nos vixisse testemur.
I know you need no goading: yet my love for you calls me out to spur you on even as you run, as you are wont to do for me. "Good is the strife" when friends, each in turn, by mutual exhortations whet one another to the love of immortality. Farewell.
Scio te stimulis non egere: me tamen tui caritas evocat, ut currentem quoque instigem, sicut tu soles me. Ἀγαθὴ δʼ ἔρις cum invicem se mutuis exhortationibus amici ad amorem immortalitatis exacuunt. Vale.
You act in keeping with the rest of the deference you show me, in asking so anxiously that I transfer to your kinsman Caesennius Silvanus the military tribunate which I obtained for you from Neratius Marcellus, that most distinguished man.
Facis pro cetera reverentia quam mihi praestas, quod tam sollicite petis ut tribunatum, quem a Neratio Marcello clarissimo viro impetravi tibi, in Caesennium Silvanum propinquum tuum transferam.
But to me, as it would be most agreeable to see you yourself a tribune, so it is no less welcome to see another made one through you. For I do not think it fitting to begrudge the man whom I would wish to advance with honors the titles of family devotion, which are fairer than all honors.
Mihi autem sicut iucundissimum ipsum te tribunum, ita non minus gratum alium per te videre. Neque enim esse congruens arbitror, quem augere honoribus cupias, huic pietatis titulis invidere, qui sunt omnibus honoribus pulchriores.
I see, too, that since it is excellent both to deserve favors and to confer them, you will win both praises at once if you bestow on another what you yourself have deserved. Besides, I understand that it will be to my glory as well, if by this act of yours it becomes known that my friends can not only hold tribunates but even give them away.
Video etiam, cum sit egregium et mereri beneficia et dare, utramque te laudem simul assecuturum, si quod ipse meruisti alii tribuas. Praeterea intellego mihi quoque gloriae fore, si ex hoc tuo facto non fuerit ignotum amicos meos non gerere tantum tribunatus posse verum etiam dare.
And so I gladly obey your most honorable wish. For your name has not yet been entered on the rolls, and so we are free to substitute Silvanus in your place; and I hope your gift may be as welcome to him as mine is to you. Farewell.
Quare ego vero honestissimae voluntati tuae pareo. Neque enim adhuc nomen in numeros relatum est, ideoque liberum est nobis Silvanum in locum tuum subdere; cui cupio tam gratum esse munus tuum, quam tibi meum est. Vale.
I can now write you a full account of how much labor I drained off in the public cause of the province of Baetica.
Possum iam perscribere tibi quantum in publica provinciae Baeticae causa laboris exhauserim.
For it was manifold, and was pleaded more than once, with great variety. Whence the variety, whence the several hearings? Caecilius Classicus, a foul man and openly wicked, had held his proconsulship there no less violently than basely, in the same year as Marius Priscus in Africa.
Nam fuit multiplex, actaque est saepius cum magna varietate. Unde varietas, unde plures actiones? Caecilius Classicus, homo foedus et aperte malus, proconsulatum in ea non minus violenter quam sordide gesserat, eodem anno quo in Africa Marius Priscus.
Now Priscus came from Baetica, and Classicus from Africa. Hence a saying of the Baeticans was going about, not without wit — for grief often makes even charming jests: "I gave an evil and got one back."
Erat autem Priscus ex Baetica, ex Africa Classicus. Inde dictum Baeticorum, ut plerumque dolor etiam venustos facit, non illepidum ferebatur: ’Dedi malum et accepi.’
But Marius was prosecuted by one community in its public capacity and by many private persons, whereas upon Classicus the whole province pressed down. He forestalled the accusation by a death either accidental or self-sought. For his death was disgraceful, yet ambiguous: while it seemed credible that he had wished to depart this life, since he could not be defended, it was strange that he should have fled by death the shame of a condemnation when he had felt no shame at committing what deserved condemnation.
Sed Marium una civitas publice multique privati reum peregerunt, in Classicum tota provincia incubuit. Ille accusationem vel fortuita vel voluntaria morte praevertit. Nam fuit mors eius infamis, ambigua tamen: ut enim credibile videbatur voluisse exire de vita, Cum defendi non posset, ita mirum pudorem damnationis morte fugisse, quem non puduisset damnanda committere.
None the less Baetica persisted in the accusation even of a dead man. The law had provided for this, but it had fallen into disuse, and after a long interval was then revived. The Baeticans added a further point, in that they denounced at the same time the partners and agents of Classicus, and demanded by name an inquiry against them.
Nihilo minus Baetica etiam in defuncti accusatione perstabat. Provisum hoc legibus, intermissum tamen et post longam intercapedinem tunc reductum. Addiderunt Baetici, quod simul socios ministrosque Classici detulerunt, nominatimque in eos inquisitionem postulaverunt.
I appeared for the Baeticans, and with me Lucceius Albinus, a man copious and polished in speaking; and though I had long loved him, with the affection returned, from this partnership in a task I began to love him more ardently.
Aderam Bacticis mecumque Lucceius Albinus, vir in dicendo copiosus ornatus; quem ego cum olim mutuo diligerem, ex hac officii societate amare ardentius coepi.
Glory, to be sure, has in it something unshareable, in studies especially; yet between us there was no rivalry, no contention, since each of us, under an equal yoke, strove not for himself but for the cause, whose greatness and importance seemed to demand that we should not take on so heavy a burden in single pleadings.
Habet quidem gloria, in studiis praesertim, quiddam ἀκοινώνητον nobis tamen nullum certamen nulla contentio, cum uterque pari iugo non pro se sed pro causa niteretur, cuius et magnitudo et utilitas visa est postulare, ne tantum oneris singulis actionibus subiremus.
We feared lest the day, or our voice, or our lungs should fail us, if we embraced so many charges and so many defendants in one bundle, as it were; next, lest the judges’ attention, with so many names and so many cases, should be not only wearied but confounded; then, lest the influence of individuals, pooled and intermingled, should lend to each one the strength of all; lastly, lest the most powerful should slip free at the cost of another’s punishment, some worthless fellow being given up as a kind of scapegoat.
Verebamur ne nos dies ne vox ne latera deficerent, si tot crimina tot reos uno velut fasce complecteremur; deinde ne iudicum intentio multis nominibus multisque causis non lassaretur modo verum etiam confunderetur; mox ne gratia singulorum collata atque permixta pro singulis quoque vires omnium acciperet; postremo ne potentissimi vilissimo quoque quasi piaculari dato alienis poenis elaberentur.
For favor and intrigue hold sway most of all just when they can lurk under some show of severity.
Etenim tum maxime favor et ambitio dominatur, cum sub aliqua specie severitatis delitescere potest.
We had in mind that example of Sertorius, who ordered his strongest and his weakest soldier each to pull out a horse’s tail — the rest you know. For we too saw that so numerous a column of defendants could be overcome only if it were picked off man by man.
Erat in consilio Sertorianum illud exemplum, qui robustissimum et infirmissimum militem iussit caudam equi - reliqua nosti. Nam nos quoque tam numerosum agmen reorum ita demum videbamus posse superari, si per singulos carperetur.
It was resolved first of all to show that Classicus himself was guilty: this was the aptest passage to his partners and agents, since the partners and agents could not be convicted unless he were guilty. Of these we joined two at once with Classicus, Baebius Probus and Fabius Hispanus, both strong in influence, Hispanus in eloquence as well. And as for Classicus, the labor was indeed short and easy.
Placuit in primis ipsum Classicum ostendere nocentem: hic aptissimus ad socios eius et ministros transitus erat, quia socii ministrique probari nisi illo nocente non poterant. Ex quibus duos statim Classico iunximus, Baebium Probum et Fabium Hispanum, utrumque gratia, Hispanum etiam facundia validum. Et circa Classicum quidem brevis et expeditus labor.
He had left in his own hand a written record of what he had taken from each transaction, from each case; he had even sent to Rome, to a certain mistress, letters boastful and exultant, in these very words: "Hurrah, hurrah, I come to you a free man; already I have realized four million sesterces by selling off a part of the Baeticans."
Sua manu reliquerat scriptum, quid ex quaque re, quid ex quaque causa accepisset; miserat etiam epistulas Romam ad amiculam quandam, iactantes et gloriosas, his quidem verbis: ’Io io, liber ad te venio; iam sestertium quadragiens redegi parte vendita Baeticorum.’
About Hispanus and Probus there was much sweat. Before I entered upon their charges, I thought it necessary to work it out that to have served as an agent was itself a crime: for had I not done so, I should have proved them agents to no purpose.
Circa Hispanum et Probum multum sudoris. Horum ante quam crimina ingrederer, necessarium credidi elaborare, ut constaret ministerium crimen esse: quod nisi fecissem, frustra ministros probassem.
For they were not so defended as to deny the deeds, but so as to beg indulgence for necessity; pleading that they were provincials and were driven by fear to every command of the proconsuls.
Neque enim ita defendebantur, ut negarent, sed ut necessitati veniam precarentur; esse enim se provinciales et ad omne proconsulum imperium metu cogi.
Claudius Restitutus, who replied to me — a man practiced and alert and ready for any sudden turn — is wont to say that never had so much darkness, so much confusion, been thrown over him as when he saw snatched and wrenched away from his defense the very things in which he had placed all his confidence.
Solet dicere Claudius Restitutus, qui mihi respondit, vir exercitatus et vigilans et quamlibet subitis paratus, numquam sibi tantum caliginis tantum perturbationis offusum, quam cum praerepta et extorta defensioni suae cerneret, in quibus omnem fiduciam reponebat.
The outcome of our policy was this: the senate resolved that the property of Classicus which he had held before his province should be set apart from the rest, the former left to his daughter, the latter to those he had despoiled. It was added that the moneys he had paid to creditors should be recalled. Hispanus and Probus were banished for five years; so grave at last did that seem which at the outset was doubted to be any crime at all.
Consilii nostri exitus fuit: bona Classici, quae habuisset ante provinciam, placuit senatui a reliquis separari, illa filiae haec spoliatis relinqui. Additum est, ut pecuniae quas creditoribus solverat revocarentur. Hispanus et Probus in quinquennium relegati; adeo grave visum est, quod initio dubitabatur an omnino crimen esset.
A few days later we accused Claudius Fuscus, the son-in-law of Classicus, and Stilonius Priscus, who had been a cohort-tribune under Classicus, with unequal results: Priscus was barred from Italy for two years; Fuscus was acquitted.
Post paucos dies Claudium Fuscum, Classici generum, et Stilonium Priscum, qui tribunus cohortis sub Classico fuerat, accusavimus dispari eventu: Prisco in biennium Italia interdictum, absolutus est Fuscus.
In the third hearing we thought it most convenient to group several together, lest, if the inquiry were drawn out too long, the justice and severity of those trying it should grow languid with satiety and a kind of weariness; and besides, there remained the lesser defendants, deliberately reserved for this place — all except the wife of Classicus, who, though entangled in suspicions, yet did not seem sufficiently convicted by the proofs;
Actione tertia commodissimum putavimus plures congregare, ne si longius esset extracta cognitio, satietate et taedio quodam iustitia cognoscentium severitasque languesceret; et alioqui supererant minores rei data opera hunc in locum reservati, excepta tamen Classici uxore, quae sicut implicita suspicionibus ita non satis convinci probationibus visa est;
for the daughter of Classicus, who was herself also among the accused, did not so much as stick fast in the suspicions. And so, when I had come to her name at the very end of the pleading — for at the end there was no longer, as at the beginning, anything to fear, that the authority of the whole accusation might be lessened by this — I thought it most honorable not to press one who did not deserve it; and this very thing I said, both freely and in various ways.
nam Classici filia, quae et ipsa inter reos erat, ne suspicionibus quidem haerebat. Itaque, cum ad nomen eius in extrema actione venissem - neque enim ut initio sic etiam in fine verendum erat, ne per hoc totius accusationis auctoritas minueretur -, honestissimum credidi non premere immerentem, idque ipsum dixi et libere et varie.
For now I would ask the deputies whether they had instructed me in anything they were confident could be proved by fact; now I would seek counsel of the senate, whether it thought I ought, if I had any faculty in speaking, to aim it like some weapon at the throat of an innocent woman; and at the last I rounded off the whole passage with this close: "Someone will say: Do you then sit as judge? I do not judge, to be sure; yet I remember that I was given as an advocate out of the judges."
Nam modo legatos interrogabam, docuissentne me aliquid quod re probari posse confiderent; modo consilium a senatu petebam, putaretne debere me, si quam haberem in dicendo facultatem, in iugulum innocentis quasi telum aliquod intendere; postremo totum locum hoc fine conclusi: ’Dicet aliquis: Iudicas ergo? Ego vero non iudico, memini tamen me advocatum ex iudicibus datum.’
This was the end of that most crowded case, some being acquitted, more condemned and even banished, some for a time, some for ever.
Hic numerosissimae causae terminus fuit quibusdam absolutis, pluribus damnatis atque etiam relegatis, aliis in tempus aliis in perpetuum.
By the same decree of the senate our diligence, good faith, and steadfastness were attested in the fullest terms — a worthy and the only fitting reward for so great a labor.
Eodem senatus consulto industria fides constantia nostra plenissimo testimonio comprobata est, dignum solumque par pretium tanti laboris.
You can conceive in your mind how worn out we were, having so often to plead, so often to debate, so many witnesses to question, to support, to refute.
Concipere animo potes quam simus fatigati, quibus totiens agendum totiens altercandum, tam multi testes interrogandi sublevandi refutandi.
And then how hard, how vexing, to refuse the friends of so many defendants when they begged in private, and to withstand them openly when they opposed! Let me report one thing of what I said. When some of the judges themselves cried out against me on behalf of a much-favored defendant, "He will be," I said, "none the less innocent, even if I say everything."
Iam illa quam ardua quam molesta, tot reorum amicis secreto rogantibus negare, adversantibus palam obsistere! Referam unum aliquid ex iis quae dixi. Cum mihi quidam e iudicibus ipsis pro reo gratiosissimo reclamarent, ’Non minus’ inquam ’hic innocens erit, si ego omnia dixero.’
From this you will guess what conflicts, what affronts too, we underwent — though only for a short time; for good faith, in the moment, offends those it withstands, and afterwards is looked up to and praised by those very men. I could not have brought you more fully onto the scene.
Coniectabis ex hoc quantas contentiones, quantas etiam offensas subierimus dumtaxat ad breve tempus; nam fides in praesentia eos quibus resistit offendit, deinde ab illis ipsis suspicitur laudaturque. Non potui magis te in rem praesentem perducere.
You will say: "It was not worth so much; for what have I to do with so long a letter?" Then do not keep asking, again and again, what is going on at Rome. And yet remember that a letter is not long which has embraced so many days, so many hearings, so many defendants in short, and cases.
Dices: ’Non fuit tanti; quid enim mihi cum tam longa epistula?’ Nolito ergo identidem quaerere, quid Romae geratur. Et tamen memento non esse epistulam longam, quae tot dies tot cognitiones tot denique reos causasque complexa sit.
All of which I think I have gone through no less briefly than carefully. I spoke rashly in saying "carefully": there comes to mind something I had passed over — and late, too, but it shall be rendered, however out of order. Homer does this, and many on his example; it is, besides, very becoming — yet that is not why I shall do it.
Quae omnia videor mihi non minus breviter quam diligenter persecutus. Temere dixi ’diligenter’: succurrit quod praeterieram et quidem sero, sed quamquam praepostere reddetur. Facit hoc Homerus multique illius exemplo; est alioqui perdecorum, a me tamen non ideo fiet.
One of the witnesses — whether angry at having been summoned against his will, or suborned by one of the defendants to disarm the accusation — demanded that Norbanus Licinianus, a deputy and investigator, be put on trial, on the ground that in the case of Casta — this was the wife of Classicus — he was colluding with the other side.
E testibus quidam, sive iratus quod evocatus esset invitus, sive subornatus ab aliquo reorum, ut accusationem exarmaret, Norbanum Licinianum, legatum et inquisitorem, reum postulavit, tamquam in causa Castae - uxor haec Classici - praevaricaretur.
It is provided by law that the defendant be tried through first, and only then inquiry be made about a colluder — obviously because the good faith of an accuser is best judged from the accusation itself.
Est lege cautum ut reus ante peragatur, tunc de praevaricatore quaeratur, videlicet quia optime ex accusatione ipsa accusatoris fides aestimatur.
Yet for Norbanus neither the order of the law, nor the name of deputy, nor the office of investigator was any protection; in such envy did he go up in flames — a man for the rest scandalous, who had used the times of Domitian as many did, and who had been chosen then by the province to investigate not as a good and faithful man, but as an enemy of Classicus, for he had been banished by him.
Norbano tamen non ordo legis, non legati nomen, non inquisitionis officium praesidio fuit; tanta conflagravit invidia homo alioqui flagitiosus et Domitiani temporibus usus ut multi, electusque tunc a provincia ad inquirendum non tamquam bonus et fidelis, sed tamquam Classici inimicus - erat ab illo relegatus -.
He demanded that a day be granted him, that the charges be published; he obtained neither, and was compelled to answer at once. Answer he did — the man’s bad and crooked nature makes me hesitate whether to say boldly or steadily, but certainly with the readiest of tongues.
Dari sibi diem, edi crimina postulabat; neutrum impetravit, coactus est statim respondere. Respondit, malum pravumque ingenium hominis facit ut dubitem, confidenter an constanter, certe paratissime.
Many things were thrown at him which did him more harm than the collusion; indeed two men of consular rank, Pomponius Rufus and Libo Frugi, wounded him by their testimony, alleging that before a judge under Domitian he had stood by the accusers of Salvius Liberalis.
Obiecta sunt multa, quae magis quam praevaricatio nocuerunt; quin etiam duo consulares, Pomponius Rufus et Libo Frugi, laeserunt eum testimonio, tamquam apud iudicem sub Domitiano Salvi Liberalis accusatoribus adfuisset.
He was condemned and banished to an island. And so, when I accused Casta, I pressed nothing harder than that her accuser had fallen under a charge of collusion; yet I pressed it in vain, for a thing happened both contrary and unheard-of: that, the accuser being condemned for collusion, the defendant was acquitted.
Damnatus et in insulam relegatus est. Itaque cum Castam accusarem nihil magis pressi, quam quod accusator eius praevaricationis crimine corruisset; pressi tamen frustra; accidit enim res contraria et nova, ut accusatore praevaricationis damnato rea absolveretur.
You ask, what of us while this was going on? We informed the senate that we had learned the public case from Norbanus, and that we must learn it afresh from the beginning if he were proved a colluder; and so, while he was being tried through as a defendant, we sat by. Afterwards Norbanus was present on all the days of the inquiry, and bore the same — call it steadiness or audacity — to the very end.
Quaeris, quid nos, dum haec aguntur? Indicavimus senatui ex Norbano didicisse nos publicam causam, rursusque debere ex integro discere, si ille praevaricator probaretur, atque ita, dum ille peragitur reus, sedimus. Postea Norbanus omnibus diebus cognitionis interfuit eandemque usque ad extremum vel constantiam vel audaciam pertulit.
I ask myself whether I have again omitted something — and again I nearly did. On the last day Salvius Liberalis sharply rebuked the remaining deputies, as though they had not prosecuted all the defendants the province had charged them with, and, vehement and eloquent as he is, brought them into peril. I shielded those excellent men, most grateful too: they at least proclaim that they owe it to me that they came through that whirlwind.
Interrogo ipse me, an aliquid omiserim rursus, et rursus paene omisi. Summo die Salvius Liberalis reliquos legatos graviter increpuit, tamquam non omnes quos mandasset provincia reos peregissent, atque, ut est vehemens et disertus, in discrimen adduxit. Protexi viros optimos eosdemque gratissimos: mihi certe debere se praedicant, quod illum turbinem evaserint.
Here will be the end of the letter — the real end; I will not add a single letter more, even if I find I have still passed something over. Farewell.
Hic erit epistulae finis, re vera finis; litteram non addam, etiamsi adhuc aliquid praeterisse me sensero. Vale.
That I had composed something about your son I did not tell you when I was lately with you — first, because I had not written it in order to say so, but to satisfy my own love and my own grief; and then because I believed that you, Spurinna, when you had heard that I had given a reading, as you yourself told me, had at the same time heard what I had read.
Composuisse me quaedam de filio vestro non dixi vobis, eum proxime apud vos fui, primum quia non ideo scripseram ut dicerem, sed ut meo amori meo dolori satisfacerem; deinde quia te, Spurinna, cum audisses recitasse me, ut mihi ipse dixisti, quid recitassem simul audisse credebam.
Besides, I was afraid of distressing you on festival days, if I should bring back the memory of your heaviest grief. Even now I have hesitated a little while whether to send only what I read aloud, as you require, or to add what I am thinking of reserving for another volume.
Praeterea veritus sum ne vos festis diebus confunderem, si in memoriam gravissimi luctus reduxissem. Nunc quoque paulisper haesitavi, id solum, quod recitavi, mitterem exigentibus vobis, an adicerem quae in aliud volumen cogito reservare.
For it is not enough for my affection to honor a memory most dear and most sacred to me in a single little book; and its fame will be better served if it is portioned out and arranged.
Neque enim affectibus meis uno libello carissimam mihi et sanctissimam memoriam prosequi satis est, cuius famae latius consuletur, si dispensata et digesta fuerit.
But while I hesitated whether to lay before you everything I have already composed, or still to put some of it off, it seemed franker and more friendly to show it all — especially since you assure me it will stay among yourselves until I please to publish it.
Verum haesitanti mihi, omnia quae iam composui vobis exhiberem, an adhuc aliqua differrem, simplicius et amicius visum est omnia, praecipue cum affirmetis intra vos futura, donec placeat emittere.
For the rest, I ask that with equal frankness you point out to me whatever you shall judge should be added, altered, or left out.
Quod superest, rogo ut pari simplicitate, si qua existimabitis addenda commutanda omittenda, indicetis mihi.
It is hard to bend the mind so far amid grief; hard, and yet — as you would direct a sculptor or a painter who was making a likeness of your son, what he should bring out, what he should correct — so shape and guide me too, who am trying to make not a frail and perishable image but an immortal one, as you suppose: an image that will last the longer, the truer, the better, the more finished it is. Farewell.
Difficile est huc usque intendere animum in dolore; difficile, sed tamen, ut scalptorem, ut pictorem, qui filii vestri imaginem faceret, admoneretis, quid exprimere quid emendare deberet, ita me quoque formate regite, qui non fragilem et caducam, sed immortalem, ut vos putatis, effigiem conor efficere: quae hoc diuturnior erit, quo verior melior absolutior fuerit. Valete.
Our Artemidorus has, all in all, a nature so generous that he magnifies the good offices of his friends. And so he carries about a report of my own service which, while true, yet exceeds the desert in the praise.
Est omnino Artemidori nostri tam benigna natura, ut officia amicorum in maius extollat. Inde etiam meum meritum ut vera ita supra meritum praedicatione circumfert.
For my part, when the philosophers had been expelled from the city, I was with him at his place near the city — and, what made it the more notable, that is, the more dangerous, I was praetor at the time. The money too of which he then had need, and a larger sum, to pay off a debt contracted in the noblest of causes, I borrowed myself and gave him free of interest, while certain great and wealthy friends of his hung back and murmured.
Equidem, cum essent philosophi ab urbe summoti, fui apud illum in suburbano, et quo notabilius - hoc est, periculosius - esset fui praetor. Pecuniam etiam, qua tunc illi ampliore opus erat, ut aes alienum exsolveret contractum ex pulcherrimis causis, mussantibus magnis quibusdam et locupletibus amicis mutuatus ipse gratuitam dedi.
And this I did when seven of my friends had been either killed or banished — Senecio, Rusticus, and Helvidius killed, Mauricus, Gratilla, Arria, and Fannia banished — so many thunderbolts hurled about me that, scorched as it were, I divined from certain sure signs that the same destruction hung over me too.
Atque haec feci, cum septem amicis meis aut occisis aut relegatis, occisis Senecione Rustico Helvidio, relegatis Maurico Gratilla Arria Fannia, tot circa me iactis fulminibus quasi ambustus mihi quoque impendere idem exitium certis quibusdam notis augurarer.
Yet I do not believe that I earned by it any extraordinary glory, as he proclaims, but only that I escaped disgrace.
Non ideo tamen eximiam gloriam meruisse me, ut ille praedicat, credo, sed tantum effugisse flagitium.
For I both loved with admiration Gaius Musonius, his father-in-law, so far as my age allowed, and embraced Artemidorus himself in close friendship even then, when I was serving as a military tribune in Syria; and this I gave as my first proof of some character, that I seemed to recognize a man either wise or next to, and most like, the wise.
Nam et C. Musonium socerum eius, quantum licitum est per aetatem, cum admiratione dilexi et Artemidorum ipsum iam tum, cum in Syria tribunus militarem, arta familiaritate complexus sum, idque primum non nullius indolis dedi specimen, quod virum aut sapientem aut proximum simillimumque sapienti intellegere sum visus.
For out of all those who now call themselves philosophers, you will scarcely find one or two of such sincerity, such truth. I say nothing of the bodily endurance with which he bears winters and summers alike, that he yields to no labors, that he allows nothing to pleasure in food or drink, that he keeps his eyes and his mind under control.
Nam ex omnibus, qui nunc se philosophos vocant, vix unum aut alterum invenies tanta sinceritate, tanta veritate. Mitto, qua patientia corporis hiemes iuxta et aestates ferat, ut nullis laboribus cedat, ut nihil in cibo in potu voluptatibus tribuat, ut oculos animumque contineat.
These are great things, but in another man; in him indeed the least, if they are set beside his other virtues, by which he earned to be taken as son-in-law by Gaius Musonius out of all the followers of every rank.
Sunt haec magna, sed in alio; in hoc vero minima, si ceteris virtutibus comparentur, quibus meruit, ut a C. Musonio ex omnibus omnium ordinum assectatoribus gener assumeretur.
And as I recall these things, it is pleasant to me, indeed, that he heaps such praises on me, both before others and before you; yet I fear he may exceed the measure which his generosity — for I return to where I began — is wont not to keep.
Quae mihi recordanti est quidem iucundum, quod me cum apud alios tum apud te tantis laudibus cumulat; vereor tamen ne modum excedat, quem benignitas eius - illuc enim unde coepi revertor - solet non tenere.
For in this one thing a man otherwise most prudent labors at times under an error — honorable, to be sure, but still an error — in that he reckons his friends worth more than they are. Farewell.
Nam in hoc uno interdum vir alioqui prudentissimus honesto quidem sed tamen errore versatur, quod pluris amicos suos quam sunt arbitratur. Vale.
I will come to dinner, but here and now I make my terms: let it be unencumbered, let it be frugal, let it abound only in Socratic conversation — and in that too let it keep measure.
Veniam ad cenam, sed iam nunc paciscor, sit expedita sit parca, Socraticis tantum sermonibus abundet, in his quoque teneat modum.
There will be the duties before dawn, which not even Cato could run into with impunity — though Gaius Caesar so reproaches him as to praise him.
Erunt officia antelucana, in quae incidere impune ne Catoni quidem licuit, quem tamen C. Caesar ita reprehendit ut laudet.
For he describes how those whom Cato met, when they had uncovered the head of the drunken man, blushed; and then he adds: "You would have thought it was not Cato caught by them, but they by Cato." Could more authority be granted to Cato than that, even drunk, he was so venerable?
Describit enim eos, quibus obvius fuerit, cum caput ebrii retexissent, erubuisse; deinde adicit: ’Putares non ab illis Catonem, sed illos a Catone deprehensos.’ Potuitne plus auctoritatis tribui Catoni, quam si ebrius quoque tam venerabilis erat?
But let our dinner keep its measure of time as it does of fare and of cost. For we are not such men as even our enemies could disparage save by praising us at the same time. Farewell.
Nostrae tamen cenae, ut apparatus et impendii, sic temporis modus constet. Neque enim ii sumus quos vituperare ne inimici quidem possint, nisi ut simul laudent. Vale.
The book in which I lately, as consul, gave thanks to our most excellent emperor I have sent you at your request — and I would have sent it even had you not asked.
Librum, quo nuper optimo principi consul gratias egi, misi exigenti tibi, missurus etsi non exegisses.
In it I would have you consider the difficulty of the subject as well as its beauty. For in other matters the very novelty holds the reader intent, but in this all is known, common, and already said; so that the reader, idle and at his ease, as it were, attends only to the style — in which it is harder to satisfy when that alone is being weighed.
In hoc consideres velim ut pulchritudinem materiae ita difficultatem. In ceteris enim lectorem novitas ipsa intentum habet, in hac nota vulgata dicta sunt omnia; quo fit ut quasi otiosus securusque lector tantum elocutioni vacet, in qua satisfacere difficilius est cum sola aestimatur.
And would that at least the arrangement and the transitions and the figures might be regarded along with it! For to invent brilliantly and to deliver magnificently even barbarians sometimes can, but to arrange aptly and to give shape with variety is denied to all but the learned.
Atque utinam ordo saltem et transitus et figurae simul spectarentur! Nam invenire praeclare, enuntiare magnifice interdum etiam barbari solent, disponere apte, figurare varie nisi eruditis negatum est.
Nor indeed should the lofty and the exalted always be aimed at. For as in painting nothing sets off the light more than the shadow, so it becomes a speech to lower itself as much as to raise itself up.
Nec vero affectanda sunt semper elata et excelsa. Nam ut in pictura lumen non alia res magis quam umbra commendat, ita orationem tam summittere quam attollere decet.
But why do I say this to a man most learned? Rather this: mark down what you shall think needs correcting. For so I shall the more believe that the rest pleases you, if I learn that some things displeased. Farewell.
Sed quid ego haec doctissimo viro? Quin potius illud: adnota, quae putaveris corrigenda. Ita enim magis credam cetera tibi placere, si quaedam displicuisse cognovero. Vale.
A dreadful thing, and worthy of more than a letter, has Larcius Macedo, a man of praetorian rank, suffered at the hands of his own slaves — an arrogant master, for the rest, and cruel, one who remembered too little — nay, too much — that his own father had been a slave.
Rem atrocem nec tantum epistula dignam Larcius Macedo vir praetorius a servis suis passus est, superbus alioqui dominus et saevus, et qui servisse patrem suum parum, immo nimium meminisset.
He was bathing at his villa near Formiae. Suddenly his slaves surround him. One seizes his throat, another strikes his face, another pounds his chest and belly, and even — foul to tell — his private parts; and when they thought him dead, they fling him onto the scorching floor, to test whether he was alive. He, whether because he felt nothing, or because he feigned to feel nothing, lay motionless and stretched out, and made good the belief that his death was accomplished.
Lavabatur in villa Formiana. Repente eum servi circumsistunt. Alius fauces invadit, alius os verberat, alius pectus et ventrem, atque etiam - foedum dictu - verenda contundit; et cum exanimem putarent, abiciunt in fervens pavimentum, ut experirentur an viveret. Ille sive quia non sentiebat, sive quia se non sentire simulabat, immobilis et extentus fidem peractae mortis implevit.
Only then, as though overcome by the heat, is he carried out; the more faithful slaves take him up, and his concubines run to him with shrieking and outcry. So, roused both by their voices and revived by the coolness of the place, he lifts his eyes, stirs his body, and confesses that he is alive — and now it was safe to do so.
Tum demum quasi aestu solutus effertur; excipiunt servi fideliores, concubinae cum ululatu et clamore concurrunt. Ita et vocibus excitatus et recreatus loci frigore sublatis oculis agitatoque corpore vivere se - et iam tutum erat - confitetur.
The slaves scatter; of them a great part has been seized, the rest are being hunted down. He himself, with difficulty kept alive a few days, died not without the solace of vengeance — avenged while living, as the murdered are wont to be.
Diffugiunt servi; quorum magna pars comprehensa est, ceteri requiruntur. Ipse paucis diebus aegre focilatus non sine ultionis solacio decessit ita vivus vindicatus, ut occisi solent.
You see to how many dangers, how many indignities, how many mockeries we are exposed; nor is there any reason for anyone to feel safe because he is easy-going and mild; for masters are done away with not by their slaves’ judgment but by their crime.
Vides quot periculis quot contumeliis quot ludibriis simus obnoxii; nec est quod quisquam possit esse securus, quia sit remissus et mitis; non enim iudicio domini sed scelere perimuntur.
But enough of this. What else is new? What? Nothing — otherwise I would add it; for both paper still remains, and a holiday allows more to be woven in. I will add what conveniently comes to mind about this same Macedo. When he was bathing in a public bath at Rome, a notable thing happened — and, as the outcome showed, an ominous one.
Verum haec hactenus. Quid praeterea novi? Quid? Nihil, alioqui subiungerem; nam et charta adhuc superest, et dies feriatus patitur plura contexi. Addam quod opportune de eodem Macedone succurrit. Cum in publico Romae lavaretur, notabilis atque etiam, ut exitus docuit, ominosa res accidit.
A Roman knight, lightly touched by a slave of his with the hand, to make him give way, turned round and struck — not the slave by whom he had been touched, but Macedo himself — so heavy a blow with the flat of his palm that he nearly fell.
Eques Romanus a servo eius, ut transitum daret, manu leviter admonitus convertit se nec servum, a quo erat tactus, sed ipsum Macedonem tam graviter palma percussit ut paene concideret.
So the bath was for him, as it were by certain steps, first the scene of an affront, and then of his death. Farewell.
Ita balineum illi quasi per gradus quosdam primum contumeliae locus, deinde exitii fuit. Vale.
You ask that in my retirement I read and examine your little books, to see whether they are worthy of publication; you bring prayers to bear, you allege a precedent: for you ask that I steal some spare time from my own studies and bestow it upon yours, and you add that Marcus Tullius fostered the talents of poets with a wonderful kindness.
Petis ut libellos tuos in secessu legam examinem, an editione sint digni; adhibes preces, allegas exemplum: rogas enim, ut aliquid subsicivi temporis studiis meis subtraham, impertiam tuis, adicis M. Tullium mira benignitate poetarum ingenia fovisse.
But I need neither to be asked nor to be urged; for I both venerate poetry itself most devoutly and love you most heartily. I will do, then, what you desire, as carefully as gladly.
Sed ego nec rogandus sum nec hortandus; nam et poeticen ipsam religiosissime veneror et te valdissime diligo. Faciam ergo quod desideras tam diligenter quam libenter.
And I think I can already write back that it is a beautiful work, not to be suppressed — so far as I was able to judge from what you read aloud in my presence, if only your reading did not impose upon me; for you read most charmingly and most skillfully.
Videor autem iam nunc posse rescribere esse opus pulchrum nec supprimendum, quantum aestimare licuit ex iis quae me praesente recitasti, si modo mihi non imposuit recitatio tua; legis enim suavissime et peritissime.
Yet I am confident that I am not so led by the ears that all the stings of my judgment are broken off by their blandishments: blunted, perhaps, and a little turned, but plucked out and wrenched away they cannot be.
Confido tamen me non sic auribus duci, ut omnes aculei iudicii mei illarum delenimentis refringantur: hebetentur fortasse et paulum retundantur, evelli quidem extorquerique non possunt.
So then I do not rashly pronounce already upon the whole; the parts I will test by reading. Farewell.
Igitur non temere iam nunc de universitate pronuntio, de partibus experiar legendo. Vale.
I seem to have observed that some deeds and sayings of men and women are more famous, others greater. My opinion was confirmed by yesterday’s conversation with Fannia. She is the granddaughter of that Arria who was to her husband both the comfort of death and its example. She used to relate many things of her grandmother, no less great than this one but less known; and I think they will be as marvelous to you in the reading as they were to me in the hearing.
Adnotasse videor facta dictaque virorum feminarumque alia clariora esse alia maiora. Confirmata est opinio mea hesterno Fanniae sermone. Neptis haec Arriae illius, quae marito et solacium mortis et exemplum fuit. Multa referebat aviae suae non minora hoc sed obscuriora; quae tibi existimo tam mirabilia legenti fore, quam mihi audienti fuerunt.
Her husband Caecina Paetus was sick, and her son too was sick, both mortally, as it seemed. The son died, a youth of surpassing beauty and equal modesty, dear to his parents no less for his other gifts than because he was their son. For him she so prepared the funeral, so conducted the obsequies, that her husband knew nothing of it; nay more, as often as she entered his chamber she pretended that the boy was alive and even doing better, and to his repeated questions about how the boy was doing she would answer: "He slept well, he took his food gladly." Then, when the long-checked tears overcame her and burst forth, she would go out; and only then she gave herself to her grief; sated, she would return with dry eyes and composed face, as though she had left her bereavement outside the door. That deed of hers is indeed renowned — to draw the steel, to pierce her breast, to pull out the dagger, to hold it out to her husband, and to add the immortal and almost divine words: "Paetus, it does not hurt." Yet in doing that, in saying that, glory and eternity were before her eyes; and so it is the greater thing, with no reward of eternity, no reward of glory, to hide her tears, to cover her mourning, and, her son lost, to go on still being a mother.
Aegrotabat Caecina Paetus maritus eius, aegrotabat et filius, uterque mortifere, ut videbatur. Filius decessit eximia pulchritudine pari verecundia, et parentibus non minus ob alia carus quam quod filius erat. Huic illa ita funus paravit, ita duxit exsequias, ut ignoraret maritus; quin immo quotiens cubiculum eius intraret, vivere filium atque etiam commodiorem esse simulabat, ac persaepe interroganti, quid ageret puer, respondebat; ’Bene quievit, libenter cibum sumpsit.’ Deinde, cum diu cohibitae lacrimae vincerent prorumperentque, egrediebatur; tunc se dolori dabat; satiata siccis oculis composito vultu redibat, tamquam orbitatem foris reliquisset. Praeclarum quidem illud eiusdem, ferrum stringere, perfodere pectus, extrahere pugionem, porrigere marito, addere vocem immortalem ac paene divinam: ’Paete, non dolet.’ Sed tamen ista facienti, ista dicenti, gloria et aeternitas ante oculos erant; quo maius est sine praemio aeternitatis, sine praemio gloriae, abdere lacrimas operire luctum, amissoque filio matrem adhuc agere.
Scribonianus had raised arms in Illyricum against Claudius; Paetus had been on his side, and, Scribonianus being slain, was being dragged to Rome. He was about to board ship; Arria begged the soldiers that she might be put aboard with him. "Surely," she said, "you mean to give a man of consular rank some few slaves from whose hand he may take his food, by whom he may be dressed, by whom he may be shod? All this I will provide alone." She did not prevail: she hired a little fishing-boat, and in that tiny vessel followed the great ship. The same woman, before Claudius, said to the wife of Scribonianus, when she was turning informer: "Am I to listen to you, in whose lap Scribonianus was killed, and you are alive?" From which it is plain that her resolve upon a most noble death was no sudden one. Nay more, when Thrasea, her son-in-law, was begging her not to go on to her death, and among other things had said: "Do you wish, then, that your daughter, if I must perish, should die with me?" she answered: "If she shall have lived with you as long and in as great harmony as I with Paetus, I do." By this answer she had increased her family’s anxiety; she was watched the more closely; she perceived it and said: "You are accomplishing nothing; for you can bring it about that I die a hard death, but that I do not die you cannot." As she said this, she sprang from her chair and dashed her head against the opposite wall with tremendous force, and fell. Brought round, she said: "I had told you that I would find some way to death, however hard, if you denied me an easy one." Do these things seem to you greater than that "Paetus, it does not hurt," to which she came through them? — while meanwhile mighty fame carries the one about, and none the other. From which it is gathered, as I said at the outset, that some things are more famous, others greater. Farewell.
Scribonianus arma in Illyrico contra Claudium moverat; fuerat Paetus in partibus, et occiso Scriboniano Romam trahebatur. Erat ascensurus navem; Arria milites orabat, ut simul imponeretur. ’Nempe enim’ inquit ’daturi estis consulari viro servolos aliquos, quorum e manu cibum capiat, a quibus vestiatur, a quibus calcietur; omnia sola praestabo.’ Non impetravit: conduxit piscatoriam nauculam, ingensque navigium minimo secuta est. Eadem apud Claudium uxori Scriboniani, cum illa profiteretur indicium, ’Ego’ inquit ’te audiam, cuius in gremio Scribonianus occisus est, et vivis?’ Ex quo manifestum est ei consilium pulcherrimae mortis non subitum fuisse. Quin etiam, cum Thrasea gener eius deprecaretur, ne mori pergeret, interque alia dixisset: ’Vis ergo filiam tuam, si mihi pereundum fuerit, mori mecum?’, respondit: ’Si tam diu tantaque concordia vixerit tecum quam ego cum Paeto, volo.’ Auxerat hoc responso curam suorum; attentius custodiebatur; sensit et ’Nihil agitis’ inquit; ’potestis enim efficere ut male moriar, ut non moriar non potestis.’ Dum haec dicit, exsiluit cathedra adversoque parieti caput ingenti impetu impegit et corruit. Focilata ’Dixeram’ inquit ’vobis inventuram me quamlibet duram ad mortem viam, si vos facilem negassetis.’ Videnturne haec tibi maiora illo ’Paete, non dolet’, ad quod per haec perventum est? cum interim illud quidem ingens fama, haec nulla circumfert. Unde colligitur, quod initio dixi, alia esse clariora alia maiora. Vale.
Is all well, that your letters have for some while now ceased? Or is all well, but you are busy? Or are you not busy, but the chance of writing is rare or none?
Rectene omnia, quod iam pridem epistulae tuae cessant? An omnia recte, sed occupatus es tu? An tu non occupatus, sed occasio scribendi vel rara vel nulla?
Take this anxiety from me, which I am not equal to; take it away, even by sending a courier on purpose. I will give the journey-money, I will even give a reward, if only he brings the news I wish for.
Exime hunc mihi scrupulum, cui par esse non possum, exime autem vel data opera tabellario misso. Ego viaticum, ego etiam praemium dabo, nuntiet modo quod opto.
I myself am well — if it is to be well, to live in suspense and anxiety, looking out by the hour and fearing, for a most beloved life, whatever can befall a man. Farewell.
Ipse valeo, si valere est suspensum et anxium vivere, exspectantem in horas timentemque pro capite amicissimo, quidquid accidere homini potest. Vale.
The duty of the consulship laid upon me the task of giving thanks to the emperor in the name of the commonwealth. When I had done this in the senate, in the customary measure of place and time, I judged it most befitting a good citizen to embrace the same matter more amply and more fully in a book,
Officium consulatus iniunxit mihi, ut rei publicae nomine principi gratias agerem. Quod ego in senatu cum ad rationem et loci et temporis ex more fecissem, bono civi convenientissimum credidi eadem illa spatiosius et uberius volumine amplecti,
first, that our emperor’s virtues might be commended to him by true praises, and then that future emperors might be forewarned — not as if by a schoolmaster, yet under an example — by what way above all they might strive toward the same glory.
primum ut imperatori nostro virtutes suae veris laudibus commendarentur, deinde ut futuri principes non quasi a magistro sed tamen sub exemplo praemonerentur, qua potissimum via possent ad eandem gloriam niti.
For to lay down what an emperor ought to be is a fine thing indeed, but burdensome and well-nigh arrogant; whereas to praise the best of emperors, and by this to show to those who come after a light to follow, as if from a watchtower, has the same usefulness and nothing of arrogance.
Nam praecipere qualis esse debeat princeps, pulchrum quidem sed onerosum ac prope superbum est; laudare vero optimum principem ac per hoc posteris velut e specula lumen quod sequantur ostendere, idem utilitatis habet arrogantiae nihil.
And I took no slight pleasure in this, that when I wished to read this book aloud to my friends, summoned not by notes, not by formal invitations, but with a "if convenient" and a "if you have ample leisure" — and at Rome one never has ample leisure, nor is it convenient, to hear a man recite — they came, in the foulest weather besides, for two days running; and when my modesty would have made an end of the reading, they demanded that I add a third day.
Cepi autem non mediocrem voluptatem, quod hunc librum cum amicis recitare voluissem, non per codicillos, non per libellos, sed ’si commodum’ et ’si valde vacaret’ admoniti - numquam porro aut valde vacat Romae aut commodum est audire recitantem -, foedissimis insuper tempestatibus per biduum convenerunt, cumque modestia mea finem recitationi facere voluisset, ut adicerem tertium diem exegerunt.
Shall I think this honor paid to me, or to letters? To letters, I prefer to think — letters that, nearly extinguished, are being rekindled.
Mihi hunc honorem habitum putem an studiis? studiis malo, quae prope exstincta refoventur.
But to what subject did they show this assiduity? The very one which in the senate too, where we had no choice but to endure it, we used to chafe at for even a moment of time; and now men are found who would both recite and hear it for three days — not because it is written more eloquently than before, but because it is written more freely, and therefore also more gladly.
At cui materiae hanc sedulitatem praestiterunt? nempe quam in senatu quoque, ubi perpeti necesse erat, gravari tamen vel puncto temporis solebamus, eandem nunc et qui recitare et qui audire triduo velint inveniuntur, non quia eloquentius quam prius, sed quia liberius ideoque etiam libentius scribitur.
This too, then, will be added to the praises of our emperor: that a thing once as hateful as it was false has now become, being true, also lovable.
Accedet ergo hoc quoque laudibus principis nostri, quod res antea tam invisa quam falsa, nunc ut vera ita amabilis facta est.
But I marveled at both the zeal and the judgment of my hearers: for I noticed that the severest passages gave the most satisfaction of all.
Sed ego cum studium audientium tum iudicium mire probavi: animadverti enim severissima quaeque vel maxime satisfacere.
I remember, to be sure, that I read to few what I wrote for all; yet none the less, as though the verdict of all will be the same, I rejoice in this severity of ears; and as the theaters once taught musicians to sing badly, so now I am brought to hope that it may come about that those same theaters teach musicians to sing well.
Memini quidem me non multis recitasse quod omnibus scripsi, nihilo minus tamen, tamquam sit eadem omnium futura sententia, hac severitate aurium laetor, ac sicut olim theatra male musicos canere docuerunt, ita nunc in spem adducor posse fieri, ut eadem theatra bene canere musicos doceant.
For all who write to please will write such things as they have seen to please. And for my part I am confident that in this kind of subject the use of a brighter style is justified, since it is rather the passages I wrote more compactly and tightly, than those I wrote more cheerfully and as it were more exultantly, that might seem fetched in and forced. Yet I do not therefore pray the less earnestly that the day may someday come — and would it had come already! — when these sweet and winning things give way, by just possession, to those austere and severe ones.
Omnes enim, qui placendi causa scribunt, qualia placere viderint scribent. Ac mihi quidem confido in hoc genere materiae laetioris stili constare rationem, cum ea potius quae pressius et astrictius, quam illa quae hilarius et quasi exsultantius scripsi, possint videri accersita et inducta. Non ideo tamen segnius precor, ut quandoque veniat dies - utinamque iam venerit! -, quo austeris illis severisque dulcia haec blandaque vel iusta possessione decedant.
You have the doings of my three days; learning of which I wished that you, absent, might take as much pleasure, both for letters’ sake and for mine, as you could have received had you been present. Farewell.
Habes acta mea tridui; quibus cognitis volui tantum te voluptatis absentem et studiorum nomine et meo capere, quantum praesens percipere potuisses. Vale.
I take you, as I am wont, into counsel about a matter of property. Some estates neighboring my own lands, and even interlocked with them, are for sale. In them many things attract me, and some — no smaller — deter me.
Assumo te in consilium rei familiaris, ut soleo. Praedia agris meis vicina atque etiam inserta venalia sunt. In his me multa sollicitant, aliqua nec minora deterrent.
It attracts me, first, the very beauty of joining them together; then, what is no less useful than pleasant, to be able to visit both with the same effort and the same journey-cost, to keep them under the same steward and almost the same agents, to cultivate and adorn one villa and merely maintain the other.
Sollicitat primum ipsa pulchritudo iungendi; deinde, quod non minus utile quam voluptuosum, posse utraque eadem opera eodem viatico invisere, sub eodem procuratore ac paene isdem actoribus habere, unam villam colere et ornare, alteram tantum tueri.
There enters into this reckoning the cost of furnishings, the cost of hall-attendants, ornamental gardeners, craftsmen, and even of hunting-gear; and it makes a great difference whether you gather these into one place or scatter them in several.
Inest huic computationi sumptus supellectilis, sumptus atriensium topiariorum fabrorum atque etiam venatorii instrumenti; quae plurimum refert unum in locum conferas an in diversa dispergas.
On the other side, I fear it may be imprudent to subject so great a property to the same storms and the same chances; it seems safer to brave the uncertainties of fortune with a variety of holdings. There is, too, much pleasantness in a change of soil and sky, and in that very traveling about among one’s own.
Contra vereor ne sit incautum, rem tam magnam isdem tempestatibus isdem casibus subdere; tutius videtur incerta fortunae possessionum varietatibus experiri. Habet etiam multum iucunditatis soli caelique mutatio, ipsaque illa peregrinatio inter sua.
Now, what is the head of our deliberation: the lands are fertile, rich, and well-watered; they consist of fields, vineyards, and woods, which furnish timber, and from it a return, modest indeed but steady.
Iam, quod deliberationis nostrae caput est, agri sunt fertiles pingues aquosi; constant campis vineis silvis, quae materiam et ex ea reditum sicut modicum ita statum praestant.
But this fertility of the soil is worn out by feeble cultivators. For the former owner more than once sold up the pledges, and while he reduced the tenants’ arrears for the time, he exhausted their strength for the future, by the failure of which the arrears in turn grew again.
Sed haec felicitas terrae imbecillis cultoribus fatigatur. Nam possessor prior saepius vendidit pignora, et dum reliqua colonorum minuit ad tempus, vires in posterum exhausit, quarum defectione rursus reliqua creverunt.
They must therefore be stocked with slaves, and the more costly because honest ones; for I myself nowhere keep men in chains, nor does anyone there. It remains for you to know at what price they seem to be able to be bought. At three million sesterces — not because they were not once worth five, but because, both by this scarcity of tenants and by the common hardship of the times, the price, like the return of the lands, has slipped backward.
Sunt ergo instruendi, eo pluris quod frugi, mancipiis; nam nec ipse usquam vinctos habeo nec ibi quisquam. Superest ut scias quanti videantur posse emi. Sestertio triciens, non quia non aliquando quinquagiens fuerint, verum et hac penuria colonorum et communi temporis iniquitate ut reditus agrorum sic etiam pretium retro abiit.
You ask whether we can easily raise this same three million. My fortune is indeed almost wholly in estates, yet I lend some out at interest, and it will be no trouble to borrow; I shall take it from my mother-in-law, whose strongbox I use no otherwise than my own.
Quaeris an hoc ipsum triciens facile colligere possimus. Sum quidem prope totus in praediis, aliquid tamen fenero, nec molestum erit mutuari; accipiam a socru, cuius arca non secus ac mea utor.
So let this not trouble you, if the rest raise no objection — which I would have you examine as carefully as you can. For both in all matters, and especially in the disposing of resources, you have abundant experience and foresight. Farewell.
Proinde hoc te non moveat, si cetera non refragantur, quae velim quam diligentissime examines. Nam cum in omnibus rebus tum in disponendis facultatibus plurimum tibi et usus et providentiae superest. Vale.
Do you remember often reading what great contentions the ballot law stirred up, and how much glory or blame it brought to its very proposer?
Meministine te saepe legisse, quantas contentiones excitarit lex tabellaria, quantumque ipsi latori vel gloriae vel reprehensionis attulerit?
Yet now in the senate this same thing has been approved, without any dissent, as best of all: on the day of the elections everyone called for ballots.
At nunc in senatu sine ulla dissensione hoc idem ut optimum placuit: omnes comitiorum die tabellas postulaverunt.
For with that open and undisguised voting we had indeed outdone the license of public meetings. There was no observing of a time for speaking, no modesty in keeping silence, no dignity, in short, even in sitting.
Excesseramus sane manifestis illis apertisque suffragiis licentiam contionum. Non tempus loquendi, non tacendi modestia, non denique sedendi dignitas custodiebatur.
Great and discordant shouts on every side; everyone ran forward with his own candidates; many throngs in the midst, many knots of men, and an unseemly confusion; so far had we fallen away from the custom of our fathers, with whom everything — ordered, restrained, tranquil — kept the majesty of the place and its sense of shame.
Magni undique dissonique clamores, procurrebant omnes cum suis candidatis, multa agmina in medio multique circuli et indecora confusio; adeo desciveramus a consuetudine parentum, apud quos omnia disposita moderata tranquilla maiestatem loci pudoremque retinebant.
There survive old men from whom I am wont to hear of this order of the elections: when the candidate’s name was called, deepest silence; he spoke for himself; he set out his life, produced witnesses and men to commend him — either the one under whom he had served, or the one to whom he had been quaestor, or both if he could; he added some of his backers; they spoke gravely and in few words. This availed more than entreaties.
Supersunt senes ex quibus audire soleo hunc ordinem comitiorum: citato nomine candidati silentium summum; dicebat ipse pro se; explicabat vitam suam, testes et laudatores dabat vel eum sub quo militaverat, vel eum cui quaestor fuerat, vel utrumque si poterat; addebat quosdam ex suffragatoribus; illi graviter et paucis loquebantur. Plus hoc quam preces proderat.
Sometimes a candidate impugned the birth, or the age, or even the character of a rival. The senate listened with the gravity of a censor. So the deserving prevailed more often than the well-connected.
Non numquam candidatus aut natales competitoris aut annos aut etiam mores arguebat. Audiebat senatus gravitate censoria. Ita saepius digni quam gratiosi praevalebant.
All this, now corrupted by immoderate partisanship, has run down to the silent ballot as to a remedy; which for the moment was plainly a remedy — for it was new and sudden —
Quae nunc immodico favore corrupta ad tacita suffragia quasi ad remedium decucurrerunt; quod interim plane remedium fuit - erat enim novum et subitum -,
but I fear that, as time goes on, vices may be born of the very remedy. For there is a danger that with secret ballots shamelessness may creep in. For in how few men is there the same care for honor in secret as in the open?
sed vereor ne procedente tempore ex ipso remedio vitia nascantur. Est enim periculum ne tacitis suffragiis impudentia irrepat. Nam quoto cuique eadem honestatis cura secreto quae palam?
Many fear their reputation, few their conscience. But I speak too soon of the future: meanwhile, by the benefit of the ballots, we shall have the magistrates who most deserved to be made. For as in trials before recoverers, so we in these elections, caught as it were suddenly, were honest judges.
Multi famam, conscientiam pauci verentur. Sed nimis cito de futuris: interim beneficio tabellarum habebimus magistratus, qui maxime fieri debuerunt. Nam ut in reciperatoriis iudiciis, sic nos in his comitiis quasi repente apprehensi sinceri iudices fuimus.
I have written you this, first that I might write something new, and then that I might now and then speak of public affairs — a subject the occasion for which, the rarer it is for us than for the men of old, the less it ought to be passed over.
Haec tibi scripsi, primum ut aliquid novi scriberem, deinde ut non numquam de re publica loquerer, cuius materiae nobis quanto rarior quam veteribus occasio, tanto minus omittenda est.
And, by Hercules, how long those commonplaces? "How are you? Are you keeping well enough?" Let our letters too have something not low nor mean, nor shut up within private affairs.
Et hercule quousque illa vulgaria? ’Quid agis? ecquid commode vales?’ Habeant nostrae quoque litterae aliquid non humile nec sordidum, nec privatis rebus inclusum.
All things, to be sure, are under the judgment of one man, who for the common good has taken upon himself, alone, the cares and labors of all; yet by a wholesome moderation certain streams run down even to us, as it were, from that most bounteous spring — streams which we can both draw upon ourselves and serve out, as it were, by letter to absent friends. Farewell.
Sunt quidem cuncta sub unius arbitrio, qui pro utilitate communi solus omnium curas laboresque suscepit; quidam tamen salubri temperamento ad nos quoque velut rivi ex illo benignissimo fonte decurrunt, quos et haurire ipsi et absentibus amicis quasi ministrare epistulis possumus. Vale.
I hear that Valerius Martial has died, and I take it hard. He was a man of talent, sharp and keen, one who had in his writing very much of both salt and gall, and no less of candor.
Audio Valerium Martialem decessisse et moleste fero. Erat homo ingeniosus acutus acer, et qui plurimum in scribendo et salis haberet et fellis nec candoris minus.
I had sped him on his way with money for the journey when he retired; I had given this to friendship, and given it also to the little verses he composed about me.
Prosecutus eram viatico secedentem; dederam hoc amicitiae, dederam etiam versiculis, quos de me composuit.
It was the custom of old to honor, with offices or with money, those who had written the praises either of individuals or of cities; but in our times, as other splendid and excellent things, so this above all has fallen out of use. For since we have ceased to do things worthy of praise, we think it absurd to be praised as well.
Fuit moris antiqui eos, qui vel singulorum laudes vel urbium scripserant, aut honoribus aut pecunia honorare; nostris vero temporibus ut alia speciosa et egregia ita hoc in primis exolevit. Nam postquam desiimus facere laudanda, laudari quoque ineptum putamus.
You ask what the little verses are for which I repaid my thanks? I would refer you to the volume itself, did I not have some by heart; you, if these please you, may look up the rest in the book.
Quaeris, qui sint versiculi, quibus gratiam rettuli? Remitterem te ad ipsum volumen, nisi quosdam tenerem; tu, si placuerint hi, ceteros in libro requires.
But see you do not, at an hour not your own, come drunk and knock at his eloquent door; he gives whole days to austere Minerva, while he toils for the ears of the Hundred Men at that which the ages and posterity may set beside the pages of Arpinum. More safely will you go by the late lamps; this hour is yours, when Lyaeus rages, when the rose reigns, when the hair is drenched with myrrh. Then let even the stern Catos read me.
Sed ne tempore non tuo disertam pulses ebria ianuam videto; totos dat tetricae dies Minervae, dum centum studet auribus virorum hoc, quod saecula posterique possint Arpinis quoque comparare chartis. Seras tutior ibis ad lucernas; haec hora est tua, cum furit Lyaeus, cum regnat rosa, cum madent capilli. Tunc me vel rigidi legant Catones.
Was it not deservedly that I both then dismissed most affectionately the man who wrote these things about me, and now grieve over his death as over a most dear friend? For he gave me the greatest he could, and would have given more had he been able. And yet, what greater thing can be given to a man than glory and praise and eternity? But the things he wrote will not be eternal — perhaps they will not; yet he wrote them as though they were going to be. Farewell.
Meritone eum, qui haec de me scripsit, et tunc dimisi amicissime et nunc ut amicissimum defunctum esse doleo? Dedit enim mihi, quantum maximum potuit, daturus amplius, si potuisset. Tametsi, quid homini potest dari maius quam gloria et laus et aeternitas? At non erunt aeterna, quae scripsit; non erunt fortasse, ille tamen scripsit, tamquam essent futura. Vale.
You long, after this long while, to see your granddaughter and me together. It is welcome to us both that you long for it — and the longing, by Hercules, is mutual.
Cupis post longum tempus neptem tuam meque una videre. Gratum est utrique nostrum quod cupis, mutuo mehercule.
For we in turn are held by an incredible longing for you, which we shall put off no further. Indeed we are already strapping up our little baggage, set to hurry as much as the plan of the journey allows.
Nam invicem nos incredibili quodam desiderio vestri tenemur, quod non ultra differemus. Atque adeo iam sarcinulas alligamus, festinaturi quantum itineris ratio permiserit.
There will be one delay, but a brief one: we shall turn aside into Tuscany, not to set our eyes on the fields and the estate — that can be put off — but to discharge a necessary duty.
Erit una sed brevis mora: deflectemus in Tuscos, non ut agros remque familiarem oculis subiciamus - id enim postponi potest -, sed ut fungamur necessario officio.
There is a town neighboring our lands — its name is Tifernum Tiberinum — which adopted me as its patron when I was still almost a boy, with zeal the greater as its judgment was the less. It makes a festival of my arrivals, is distressed at my departures, rejoices in my honors.
Oppidum est praediis nostris vicinum - nomen Tiferni Tiberini -, quod me paene adhuc puerum patronum cooptavit, tanto maiore studio quanto minore iudicio. Adventus meos celebrat, profectionibus angitur, honoribus gaudet.
There, to repay the kindness — for to be outdone in love is most shameful — I have built a temple at my own expense; and since it is now ready, to put off its dedication any longer would be irreligious.
In hoc ego, ut referrem gratiam - nam vinci in amore turpissimum est -, templum pecunia mea exstruxi, cuius dedicationem, cum sit paratum, differre longius irreligiosum est.
We shall therefore be there on the day of dedication, which I have resolved to celebrate with a public feast. We shall perhaps stay over the following day as well, but shall then drive on along the road all the harder.
Erimus ergo ibi dedicationis die, quem epulo celebrare constitui. Subsistemus fortasse et sequenti, sed tanto magis viam ipsam corripiemus.
Only may it fall to us to find you and your daughter in good health! — for find you cheerful we shall, if you receive us safe and sound. Farewell.
Contingat modo te filiamque tuam fortes invenire! nam continget hilares, si nos incolumes receperitis. Vale.
Regulus has lost his son — undeserving of this one misfortune, though I am not sure he counts it a misfortune. The boy was of sharp but uncertain character, who might yet have followed the straight path, had he not taken after his father.
Regulus filium amisit, hoc uno malo indignus, quod nescio an malum putet. Erat puer acris ingenii sed ambigui, qui tamen posset recta sectari, si patrem non referret.
Regulus emancipated him, so that he might become his mother’s heir; and once he was emancipated — so people commonly said, judging by the man’s character — he courted him with a foul and, in a parent, unheard-of pretense of indulgence. Incredible — but think of Regulus.
Hunc Regulus emancipavit, ut heres matris exsisteret; mancipatum - ita vulgo ex moribus hominis loquebantur - foeda et insolita parentibus indulgentiae simulatione captabat. Incredibile, sed Regulum cogita.
Yet now that he is lost he mourns him madly. The boy had many ponies, in harness and loose; he had dogs large and small; he had nightingales, parrots, blackbirds: all of them Regulus slaughtered around the pyre.
Amissum tamen luget insane. Habebat puer mannulos multos et iunctos et solutos, habebat canes maiores minoresque, habebat luscinias psittacos merulas: omnes Regulus circa rogum trucidavit.
That was not grief, but the display of grief. People gather to him in remarkable crowds. All of them loathe and hate him, and yet, as though they approved, as though they loved him, they run to him and throng about him; and — to put briefly what I think — in courting Regulus they imitate Regulus.
Nec dolor erat ille, sed ostentatio doloris. Convenitur ad eum mira celebritate. Cuncti detestantur oderunt, et quasi probent quasi diligant, cursant frequentant, utque breviter quod sentio enuntiem, in Regulo demerendo Regulum imitantur.
He keeps to himself across the Tiber in his gardens, where he has covered a vast expanse of ground with immense colonnades and the riverbank with statues of himself — being, as he is, lavish amid the height of greed, vainglorious amid the depth of disgrace.
Tenet se trans Tiberim in hortis, in quibus latissimum solum porticibus immensis, ripam statuis suis occupavit, ut est in summa avaritia sumptuosus, in summa infamia gloriosus.
So he plagues the city in the most unwholesome season, and reckons the plaguing of it a consolation. He says he means to take a wife — this too, like everything else, perversely.
Vexat ergo civitatem insaluberrimo tempore et, quod vexat, solacium putat. Dicit se velle ducere uxorem, hoc quoque sicut alia perverse.
You will soon hear of the wedding of a mourner, the wedding of an old man — the one too soon, the other too late. You ask on what I base the prophecy?
Audies brevi nuptias lugentis nuptias senis; quorum alterum immaturum alterum serum est. Unde hoc augurer quaeris?
Not because he affirms it himself — than whom nothing is more lying — but because it is certain that Regulus will do whatever ought not to be done. Farewell.
Non quia affirmat ipse, quo mendacius nihil est, sed quia certum est Regulum esse facturum, quidquid fieri non oportet. Vale.
That you have been consul, once and again, like the men of old; that you were proconsul of Asia such as scarcely one or two before you or after you — for your modesty will not let me say "none" —; that in sanctity, in authority, and in years too you are first man of the state: all this is indeed venerable and admirable; yet I admire you still more in your hours of ease.
Quod semel atque iterum consul fuisti similis antiquis, quod proconsul Asiae qualis ante te qualis post te vix unus aut alter - non sinit enim me verecundia tua dicere nemo -, quod sanctitate quod auctoritate, aetate quoque princeps civitatis, est quidem venerabile et pulchrum; ego tamen te vel magis in remissionibus miror.
For to season that severity of yours with an equal charm, and to join to the highest gravity so much affability, is no less difficult than it is great. This you achieve both by an incredible sweetness in conversation and, above all, with your pen.
Nam severitatem istam pari iucunditate condire, summaeque gravitati tantum comitatis adiungere, non minus difficile quam magnum est. Id tu cum incredibili quadam suavitate sermonum, tum vel praecipue stilo assequeris.
For when you speak, that honey of the old man in Homer seems to flow from you; and what you write, the bees seem to fill with flowers and weave together. So at least I was affected myself, when I lately read your Greek epigrams and your mimiambics.
Nam et loquenti tibi illa Homerici senis mella profluere et, quae scribis, complere apes floribus et innectere videntur. Ita certe sum affectus ipse, cum Graeca epigrammata tua, cum mimiambos proxime legerem.
How much refinement is there, how much grace; how sweet they are, how loving, how pointed, how true! I believed I held Callimachus in my hands, or Herodas, or something better than these — and yet neither of those two ever perfected, or even attempted, both kinds.
Quantum ibi humanitatis venustatis, quam dulcia illa quam amantia quam arguta quam recta! Callimachum me vel Heroden, vel si quid his melius, tenere credebam; quorum tamen neuter utrumque aut absolvit aut attigit.
That a Roman should speak such Greek! So help me, I would not call Athens itself so Attic. In short: I envy the Greeks, that you chose to write in their tongue. For it needs no guessing what you could express in your native speech, when in this grafted and borrowed one you have wrought works so splendid. Farewell.
Hominemne Romanum tam Graece loqui? Non medius fidius ipsas Athenas tam Atticas dixerim. Quid multa? Invideo Graecis quod illorum lingua scribere maluisti. Neque enim coniectura eget, quid sermone patrio exprimere possis, Cum hoc insiticio et inducto tam praeclara opera perfeceris. Vale.
I am exceedingly fond of Varisidius Nepos — an industrious man, upright, eloquent, which with me counts for most of all. He is also bound by close kinship to Gaius Calvisius, my companion and your friend; for he is his sister’s son.
Varisidium Nepotem valdissime diligo, virum industrium rectum disertum, quod apud me vel potentissimum est. Idem C. Calvisium, contubernalem meum amicum tuum, arta propinquitate complectitur; est enim filius sororis.
Him I ask you to make more distinguished, both for his own sake and his uncle’s, with a six-month tribunate. You will oblige me, you will oblige our Calvisius, you will oblige the man himself — no less fit a debtor than you reckon us to be.
Hunc rogo semestri tribunatu splendidiorem et sibi et avunculo suo facias. Obligabis me, obligabis Calvisium nostrum, obligabis ipsum, non minus idoneum debitorem quam nos putas.
You have conferred many favors upon many men: I would dare to maintain that you have placed none better, and only one or two as well. Farewell.
Multa beneficia in multos contulisti: ausim contendere nullum te melius, aeque bene unum aut alterum collocasse. Vale.
They say that Aeschines, when the Rhodians asked him, read aloud his own speech, and then that of Demosthenes — both to the loudest applause.
Aeschinen aiunt petentibus Rhodiis legisse orationem suam, deinde Demosthenis, summis utramque clamoribus.
That this should have befallen the writings of such great men I do not wonder, when the most learned men lately heard a speech of mine, over two days, with such zeal, such approval, such effort too — although no comparison on this side and that, no contest as it were, kindled their attention.
Quod tantorum virorum scriptis contigisse non miror, cum orationem meam proxime doctissimi homines hoc studio, hoc assensu, hoc etiam labore per biduum audierint, quamvis intentionem eorum nulla hinc et inde collatio, nullum quasi certamen accenderet.
For the Rhodians were stirred both by the very merits of the speeches and by the spurs of comparison; my speech was approved without the relish of rivalry. Whether deservedly, you will know when you have read the book, whose bulk does not allow me to make a longer preface by letter.
Nam Rhodii cum ipsis orationum virtutibus tum etiam comparationis aculeis excitabantur, nostra oratio sine aemulationis gratia probabatur. An merito, scies cum legeris librum, cuius amplitudo non sinit me longiore epistula praeloqui.
For in this at least, where we can, we ought to be brief, so that it may be the more excusable that we have drawn out the book itself — though not beyond the magnitude of the case. Farewell.
Oportet enim nos in hac certe in qua possumus breves esse, quo sit excusatius quod librum ipsum, non tamen ultra causae amplitudinem, extendimus. Vale.
My Tuscan estate has been battered by hail; from the region beyond the Po the report is of the greatest abundance — but of correspondingly low prices: only my Laurentine place yields me a return.
Tusci grandine excussi, in regione Transpadana summa abundantia, sed par vilitas nuntiatur: solum mihi Laurentinum meum in reditu.
I own nothing there but the house and the garden and, at once, the sands; yet it alone yields me a return. For there I write most, and cultivate, not the field I do not have, but my own self, by study; and now I can show you there, as in other places a full granary, so there a full bookcase.
Nihil quidem ibi possideo praeter tectum et hortum statimque harenas, solum tamen mihi in reditu. Ibi enim plurimum scribo, nec agrum quem non habeo sed ipsum me studiis excolo; ac iam possum tibi ut aliis in locis horreum plenum, sic ibi scrinium ostendere.
So you too, if you covet sure and fruitful estates, get yourself something on this shore. Farewell.
Igitur tu quoque, si certa et fructuosa praedia concupiscis, aliquid in hoc litore para. Vale.
I often tell you there is force in Regulus. It is astonishing what he accomplishes in whatever he sets himself to. He resolved to mourn his son: he mourns as no one else does. He resolved to have statues and portraits of him made, as many as possible: this he sets every workshop to; he renders him in paints, in wax, in bronze, in silver, in gold, in ivory, in marble.
Saepe tibi dico inesse vim Regulo. Mirum est quam efficiat in quod incubuit. Placuit ei lugere filium: luget ut nemo. Placuit statuas eius et imagines quam plurimas facere: hoc omnibus officinis agit, illum coloribus illum cera illum aere illum argento illum auro ebore marmore effingit.
And he himself lately, before a vast audience, recited a book on the boy’s life — on the life of a boy, but he recited it all the same. The same book, copied into a thousand exemplars, he sent out over all Italy and the provinces. He wrote to the town councils that some man of the loudest voice should be chosen from among them to read it to the people: it was done.
Ipse vero nuper adhibito ingenti auditorio librum de vita eius recitavit; de vita pueri, recitavit tamen. Eundem in exemplaria mille transcriptum per totam Italiam provinciasque dimisit. Scripsit publice, ut a decurionibus eligeretur vocalissimus aliquis ex ipsis, qui legeret eum populo: factum est.
Had he turned this force — or by whatever other name one should call the resolve to obtain whatever you wish — to better ends, how much good he might have done! And yet there is less force in the good than in the bad; and as "ignorance breeds boldness, but reflection breeds hesitation," so upright natures are weakened by modesty, while perverse ones are emboldened by audacity.
Hanc ille vim, seu quo alio nomine vocanda est intentio quidquid velis optinendi, si ad potiora vertisset, quantum boni efficere potuisset! Quamquam minor vis bonis quam malis inest, ac sicut ἀμαθία μὲν θράσος, λογισμὸς δὲ ὄκνον φέρει, ita recta ingenia debilitat verecundia, perversa confirmat audacia.
Regulus is the proof. A weak chest, a muddled delivery, a stammering tongue, the slowest invention, no memory — nothing, in short, beyond a frenzied talent; and yet by sheer effrontery and by that very madness he has come so far as to be reckoned an orator.
Exemplo est Regulus. Imbecillum latus, os confusum, haesitans lingua, tardissima inventio, memoria nulla, nihil denique praeter ingenium insanum, et tamen eo impudentia ipsoque illo furore pervenit, ut orator habeatur.
And so Herennius Senecio wonderfully turned Cato’s famous saying about the orator into its opposite for him: "An orator is a bad man, unskilled in speaking." By Hercules, Cato himself did not portray the true orator so well as this man portrayed Regulus.
Itaque Herennius Senecio mirifice Catonis illud de oratore in hunc e contrario vertit: ’Orator est vir malus dicendi imperitus.’ Non mehercule Cato ipse tam bene verum oratorem quam hic Regulum expressit.
Have you anything to repay a like favor for such a letter? You have, if you write back whether anyone in your town from among my friends — whether even you yourself — has read this doleful book of Regulus’s, like a mountebank in the marketplace, "raising," to be sure, as Demosthenes says, "his voice, and exulting, and bawling from the throat."
Habesne quo tali epistulae parem gratiam referas? Habes, si scripseris num aliquis in municipio vestro ex sodalibus meis, num etiam ipse tu hunc luctuosum Reguli librum ut circulator in foro legeris, ἐπάρας scilicet, ut ait Demosthenes, τὴν φωνὴν καὶ γεγηθὼς καὶ λαρυγγίζων.
For it is so absurd that it can wring laughter rather than a groan: you would think it written not about a boy but by one. Farewell.
Est enim tam ineptus ut risum magis possit exprimere quam gemitum: credas non de puero scriptum sed a puero. Vale.
You congratulate me on having received the augurate: and rightly you congratulate me — first, because to obtain the judgment of a most weighty emperor even in lesser matters is a fine thing; next, because the priesthood itself is both ancient and holy, and also sacred and distinguished in this respect, that it is not taken from a man while he lives.
Gratularis mihi quod acceperim auguratum: iure, gratularis, primum quod gravissimi principis iudicium in minoribus etiam rebus consequi pulchrum est, deinde quod sacerdotium ipsum cum priscum et religiosum tum hoc quoque sacrum plane et insigne est, quod non adimitur viventi.
For other honors, though nearly equal in dignity, are taken away just as they are granted; over this one, fortune is permitted only so far that it may be given.
Nam alia quamquam dignitate propemodum paria ut tribuuntur sic auferuntur; in hoc fortunae hactenus licet ut dari possit.
And to me this too seems worthy of congratulation, that I have succeeded Julius Frontinus, a leading man, who on the day of nomination, through these last continuous years, used to name me among the candidates for the priesthood, as though he were co-opting me into his own place; and the outcome has now so confirmed it that it does not seem to have been chance.
Mihi vero illud etiam gratulatione dignum videtur, quod successi Iulio Frontino principi viro, qui me nominationis die per hos continuos annos inter sacerdotes nominabat, tamquam in locum suum cooptaret; quod nunc eventus ita comprobavit, ut non fortuitum videretur.
As for you, as you write, my augurate delights you most for this reason, that Marcus Tullius was an augur. For you rejoice that I tread in the honors of the man whom I long to rival in my studies.
Te quidem, ut scribis, ob hoc maxime delectat auguratus meus, quod M. Tullius augur fuit. Laetaris enim quod honoribus eius insistam, quem aemulari in studiis cupio.
But would that, as I have gained the same priesthood, and the consulship even much younger than he, so in old age at least I might attain his genius in some part!
Sed utinam ut sacerdotium idem, ut consulatum multo etiam iuvenior quam ille sum consecutus, ita senex saltem ingenium eius aliqua ex parte assequi possim!
But surely the things that lie in the hands of men have fallen to me as to many; that other thing, as it is hard to attain so is it too much even to hope for, since it can be given only by the gods. Farewell.
Sed nimirum quae sunt in manu hominum et mihi et multis contigerunt; illud vero ut adipisci arduum sic etiam sperare nimium est, quod dari non nisi a dis potest. Vale.
In these last days Julius Bassus pleaded his case — a much-tried man, made famous by his misfortunes. He was accused under Vespasian by two private persons; referred to the senate, he hung in suspense a long while, and at last was acquitted and cleared.
Causam per hos dies dixit Iulius Bassus, homo laboriosus et adversis suis clarus. Accusatus est sub Vespasiano a privatis duobus; ad senatum remissus diu pependit, tandem absolutus vindicatusque.
He feared Titus as a friend of Domitian; by Domitian he was banished; recalled by Nerva and allotted Bithynia, he came back from it a defendant — accused no less keenly than he was loyally defended. The votes were divided, but the more numerous inclined to the milder side.
Titum timuit ut Domitiani amicus, a Domitiano relegatus est; revocatus a Nerva sortitusque Bithyniam rediit reus, accusatus non minus acriter quam fideliter defensus. Varias sententias habuit, plures tamen quasi mitiores.
Against him pleaded Pomponius Rufus, a ready and vehement man; Rufus was followed by Theophanes, one of the envoys, the torch and the source of the prosecution.
Egit contra eum Pomponius Rufus, vir paratus et vehemens; Rufo successit Theophanes, unus ex legatis, fax accusationis et origo.
I replied. For Bassus had laid it on me to lay the foundations of the whole defense — to speak of his distinctions, which were great both from the splendor of his birth and from his very perils,
Respondi ego. Nam mihi Bassus iniunxerat, totius defensionis fundamenta iacerem, dicerem de ornamentis suis quae illi et ex generis claritate et ex periculis ipsis magna erant,
to speak of the conspiracy of the informers, which they made a trade of, to speak of the reasons for which he had given offense to every most factious man, such as that very Theophanes. He had wished me, the same, to meet the charge by which he was most hard pressed. For on the other counts, however graver to the ear, he deserved not acquittal only but even praise;
dicerem de conspiratione delatorum quam in quaestu habebant, dicerem causas quibus factiosissimum quemque ut illum ipsum Theophanen offendisset. Eundem me volverat occurrere crimini quo maxime premebatur. In aliis enim quamvis auditu gravioribus non absolutionem modo verum etiam laudem merebatur;
this weighed on him, that, a frank and unwary man, he had accepted certain things from the provincials as a friend — for he had been quaestor in that same province. These things the accusers called thefts and plunder; he called them gifts. But the law forbids the taking even of gifts.
hoc illum onerabat quod homo simplex et incautus quaedam a provincialibus ut amicus acceperat - nam fuerat in eadem provincia quaestor -. Haec accusatores furta ac rapinas, ipse munera vocabat. Sed lex munera quoque accipi vetat.
Here what was I to do, what path of defense should I enter on? Deny it? I feared it would look plainly like theft, the very thing I was afraid to confess. Besides, to deny a manifest fact was to aggravate the charge, not to dissolve it — especially since the defendant himself had left his advocates nothing untouched. For he had told many, and even the emperor, that he had taken only small gifts, and only on his birthday or at the Saturnalia, and had sent them to most people as well.
Hic ego quid agerem, quod iter defensionis ingrederer? Negarem? Verebar ne plane furtum videretur, quod confiteri timerem. Praeterea rem manifestam infitiari augentis erat crimen non diluentis, praesertim cum reus ipse nihil integrum advocatis reliquisset. Multis enim atque etiam principi dixerat, sola se munuscula dumtaxat natali suo aut Saturnalibus accepisse et plerisque misisse.
Should I then beg for pardon? I would have cut the defendant’s throat, by conceding that he had so offended that he could not be saved except by pardon. Should I defend it as rightly done? I would not have helped him, but would myself have shown shameless.
Veniam ergo peterem? Iugulassem reum, quem ita deliquisse concederem, ut servari nisi venia non posset. Tamquam recte factum tuerer? Non illi profuissem, sed ipse impudens exstitissem.
In this difficulty I resolved to hold a kind of middle course: I think I held it. My pleading, as it does with battles, night broke off. I had spoken three and a half hours; an hour and a half remained. For since by law the accuser had been allotted six hours and the defendant nine, the defendant had so divided the time between me and the one who was to speak after me, that I should use five hours, he the rest.
In hac difficultate placuit medium quiddam tenere: videor tenuisse. Actionem meam, ut proelia solet, nox diremit. Egeram horis tribus et dimidia, supererat sesquihora. Nam cum e lege accusator sex horas, novem reus accepisset, ita diviserat tempora reus inter me et eum qui dicturus post erat, ut ego quinque horis ille reliquis uteretur.
The success of the pleading urged me to silence and an end; for it is rash not to be content with good fortune. Besides, I feared that my bodily strength would desert me at a renewed effort — which it is harder to take up afresh than to keep up unbroken.
Mihi successus actionis silentium finemque suadebat; temerarium est enim secundis non esse contentum. Ad hoc verebar ne me corporis vires iterato labore desererent, quem difficilius est repetere quam iungere.
There was also the danger that the rest of my pleading would suffer both chill, as laid down, and tedium, as taken up again. For as torches keep their fire by constant shaking, but, once let go out, rekindle it with the greatest difficulty, so both the speaker’s heat and the hearer’s attention are preserved by continuity, and grow faint with an interval and, as it were, a slackening.
Erat etiam periculum ne reliqua actio mea et frigus ut deposita et taedium ut resumpta pateretur. UT enim faces ignem assidua concussione custodiunt, dimissum aegerrime reparant, sic et dicentis calor et audientis intentio continuatione servatur, intercapedine et quasi remissione languescit.
But Bassus with many prayers, almost even with tears, besought me to fill out my time. I obeyed, and set his advantage before my own. It turned out well: I found the senate’s spirits so alert, so fresh, that they seemed roused rather than sated by the earlier pleading.
Sed Bassus multis precibus, paene etiam lacrimis obsecrabat, implerem meum tempus. Parui utilitatemque eius praetuli meae. Bene cessit: inveni ita erectos animos senatus, ita recentes, ut priore actione incitati magis quam satiati viderentur.
Lucceius Albinus followed me, so aptly that our speeches might be believed to have had the variety of two and the connection of one.
Successit mihi Lucceius Albinus, tam apte ut orationes nostrae varietatem duarum, contextum unius habuisse credantur.
Herennius Pollio answered urgently and weightily, and then Theophanes again. For he did this too, as all else, most shamelessly: after two men both of consular rank and eloquent, he claimed time for himself — and that more liberally. He spoke into the night, and even by night, with the lamps brought in.
Respondit Herennius Pollio instanter et graviter, deinde Theophanes rursus. Fecit enim hoc quoque ut cetera impudentissime, quod post duos et consulares et disertos tempus sibi et quidem laxius vindicavit. Dixit in noctem atque etiam nocte illatis lucernis.
On the next day Homullus and Fronto pleaded for Bassus wonderfully; the fourth day the taking of evidence occupied.
Postero die egerunt pro Basso Homullus et Fronto mirifice; quartum diem probationes occuparunt.
Baebius Macer, consul-designate, gave it as his opinion that Bassus was liable under the law of extortion; Caepio Hispo, that judges should be appointed while his rank was preserved: each rightly.
Censuit Baebius Macer consul designatus lege repetundarum Bassum teneri, Caepio Hispo salva dignitate iudices dandos; uterque recte.
"How can that be," you say, "when they gave such different opinions?" Because, of course, it was consistent for Macer, looking to the law, to condemn the man who had taken gifts against the law; and Caepio, since he held that the senate may — as indeed it may — both soften the laws and tighten them, not without reason granted pardon to a deed forbidden indeed, yet not unheard of.
’Qui fieri potest’ inquis, ’cum tam diversa censuerint?’ Quia scilicet et Macro legem intuenti consentaneum fuit damnare eum qui contra legem munera acceperat, et Caepio cum putaret licere senatui - sicut licet - et mitigare leges et intendere, non sine ratione veniam dedit facto vetito quidem, non tamen inusitato.
Caepio’s opinion prevailed; indeed, as he rose to speak, he was applauded — a thing that usually happens to men sitting down. From which you can judge with what agreement his speech was received when he gave it, since it was so welcome when he merely seemed about to give it.
Praevaluit sententia Caepionis, quin immo consurgenti ei ad censendum acclamatum est, quod solet residentibus. Ex quo potes aestimare, quanto consensu sit exceptum, cum diceret, quod tam favorabile fuit cum dicturus videretur.
Yet, as in the senate so in the city, men’s judgments are divided into two parties. For those whom Caepio’s opinion pleased blame Macer’s as rigid and harsh; those whom Macer’s pleased call the other lax and even inconsistent; for they deny it is consistent to keep in the senate a man to whom you have assigned judges.
Sunt tamen ut in senatu ita in civitate in duas partes hominum iudicia divisa. Nam quibus sententia Caepionis placuit, sententiam Macri ut rigidam duramque reprehendunt; quibus Macri, illam alteram dissolutam atque etiam incongruentem vocant; negant enim congruens esse retinere in senatu, cui iudices dederis.
There was a third opinion too: Valerius Paulinus, agreeing with Caepio, gave it as his further view that a report should be made on Theophanes once he had laid down his commission. For he was charged with having done many things in the prosecution that fell under that very law by which he had accused Bassus.
Fuit et tertia sententia: Valerius Paulinus assensus Caepioni hoc amplius censuit, referendum de Theophane cum legationem renuntiasset. Arguebatur enim multa in accusatione fecisse, quae illa ipsa lege qua Bassum accusaverat tenerentur.
But this opinion the consuls, though it was wonderfully approved by the greatest part of the senate, did not pursue.
Sed hanc sententiam consules, quamquam maximae parti senatus mire probabatur, non sunt persecuti.
Paulinus, however, won the repute both of justice and of firmness. When the senate was dismissed, Bassus was received with a great crowd of people, great shouting, great joy. The old fame of his perils, renewed, had made him a favorite — a name made known by dangers, and, in a tall frame, a sad and unkempt old age.
Paulinus tamen et iustitiae famam et constantiae tulit. Misso senatu Bassus magna hominum frequentia, magno clamore, magno gaudio exceptus est. Fecerat eum favorabilem renovata discriminum vetus fama, notumque periculis nomen, et in procero corpore maesta et squalida senectus.
You shall have this letter in the meantime as a "forerunner"; you will await the speech, full and laden. You will await it long; for it is not to be reworked lightly and in haste, given so great a matter. Farewell.
Habebis hanc interim epistulam ut πρόδρομον, exspectabis orationem plenam onustamque. Exspectabis diu; neque enim leviter et cursim, ut de re tanta retractanda est. Vale.
You write to me that Sabina, who left us her heirs, nowhere ordered her slave Modestus to be free, yet assigned him a legacy in these words: "To Modestus, whom I have ordered to be free."
Scribis mihi Sabinam, quae nos reliquit heredes, Modestum servum suum nusquam liberum esse iussisse, eidem tamen sic ascripsisse legatum: ’Modesto quem liberum esse iussi’.
You ask what I think. I have conferred with those skilled in the law. All agree that the freedom is not owed, because it was not granted, nor the legacy, because she gave it to her own slave. But to me it seems a manifest error, and so I think we should act as though Sabina had written what she believed she had written.
Quaeris quid sentiam. Contuli cum peritis iuris. Convenit inter omnes nec libertatem deberi quia non sit data, nec legatum quia servo suo dederit. Sed mihi manifestus error videtur, ideoque puto nobis quasi scripserit Sabina faciendum, quod ipsa scripsisse se credidit.
I am confident you will come over to my opinion, since you are wont most scrupulously to guard the will of the dead — which, for good heirs, to have understood is as good as law. For with us honor counts no less than necessity counts with others.
Confido accessurum te sententiae meae, cum religiosissime soleas custodire defunctorum voluntatem, quam bonis heredibus intellexisse pro iure est. Neque enim minus apud nos honestas quam apud alios necessitas valet.
Let him then abide in freedom, by our allowance, and enjoy the legacy as though she had provided for everything most carefully. For she did provide, who chose her heirs well. Farewell.
Moretur ergo in libertate sinentibus nobis, fruatur legato quasi omnia diligentissime caverit. Cavit enim, quae heredes bene elegit. Vale.
Have you heard that Valerius Licinianus is teaching rhetoric in Sicily? I think you have not yet heard: for the news is fresh. This man of praetorian rank was lately counted among the most eloquent pleaders of cases; now he has fallen so far as to become, from a senator, an exile, and, from an orator, a teacher of rhetoric.
Audistine Valerium Licinianum in Sicilia profiteri? nondum te puto audisse: est enim recens nuntius. Praetorius hic modo inter eloquentissimos causarum actores habebatur; nunc eo decidit, ut exsul de senatore, rhetor de oratore fieret.
And so he himself said in his preface, with grief and weight: "What sport you make for yourself, Fortune! For you make professors out of senators, and senators out of professors." In which saying there is so much gall, so much bitterness, that it seems to me he set up as a teacher precisely so that he might say it.
Itaque ipse in praefatione dixit dolenter et graviter: ’Quos tibi, Fortuna, ludos facis? facis enim ex senatoribus professores, ex professoribus senatores.’ Cui sententiae tantum bilis, tantum amaritudinis inest, ut mihi videatur ideo professus ut hoc diceret.
The same man, when he had entered wrapped in a Greek cloak — for those who have been forbidden water and fire lack the right to the toga — after he had composed himself and looked round at his own dress, said: "I am going to declaim in Latin."
Idem cum Graeco pallio amictus intrasset - carent enim togae iure, quibus aqua et igni interdictum est -, postquam se composuit circumspexitque habitum suum, ’Latine’ inquit ’declamaturus sum.’
You will say these things are sad and pitiable — yet that he deserved it, who stained these very studies with the crime of unchastity.
Dices tristia et miseranda, dignum tamen illum qui haec ipsa studia incesti scelere macularit.
He did indeed confess to the unchastity, but it is uncertain whether because it was true, or because he feared worse if he denied it. For Domitian was raging and seething, left stranded amid enormous odium.
Confessus est quidem incestum, sed incertum utrum quia verum erat, an quia graviora metuebat si negasset. Fremebat enim Domitianus aestuabatque in ingenti invidia destitutus.
For when he had conceived a desire to bury alive Cornelia, the chief of the Vestals — thinking, as he did, that his age was made illustrious by such examples — he summoned the rest of the pontiffs, by right of pontifex maximus, or rather by the savagery of a tyrant, the license of a despot, not to the Regia but to his Alban villa. And with no less crime than the one he seemed to be avenging, he condemned her, absent and unheard, of unchastity — though he himself had not only defiled his brother’s daughter with unchastity but had even killed her; for she, a widow, died of an abortion.
Nam cum Corneliam Vestalium maximam defodere vivam concupisset, ut qui illustrari saeculum suum eiusmodi exemplis arbitraretur, pontificis maximi iure, seu potius immanitate tyranni licentia domini, reliquos pontifices non in Regiam sed in Albanam villam convocavit. Nec minore scelere quam quod ulcisci videbatur, absentem inauditamque damnavit incesti, cum ipse fratris filiam incesto non polluisset solum verum etiam occidisset; nam vidua abortu periit.
At once the pontiffs were sent to see to her burial and death. She, stretching out her hands now to Vesta, now to the other gods, cried many things, but this most often: "Caesar thinks me unchaste — I, by whose performance of the rites he conquered and triumphed!"
Missi statim pontifices qui defodiendam necandamque curarent. Illa nunc ad Vestam, nunc ad ceteros deos manus tendens, multa sed hoc frequentissime clamitabat: ’Me Caesar incestam putat, qua sacra faciente vicit triumphavit!’
Whether she said this in flattery or in mockery, out of confidence in herself or contempt for the emperor, is doubtful. She said it until she was led to her punishment — innocent, perhaps; certainly led as one innocent.
Blandiens haec an irridens, ex fiducia sui an ex contemptu principis dixerit, dubium est. Dixit donec ad supplicium, nescio an innocens, certe tamquam innocens ducta est.
Indeed, when she was being let down into that underground chamber, and her gown caught as she descended, she turned and gathered it up; and when the executioner offered her his hand, she turned away and recoiled, and with a final act of sanctity she repelled the foul contact, as from a wholly chaste and pure body, and in every point of modesty "took great care to fall decently."
Quin etiam cum in illud subterraneum demitteretur, haesissetque descendenti stola, vertit se ac recollegit, cumque ei manum carnifex daret, aversata est et resiluit foedumque contactum quasi plane a casto puroque corpore novissima sanctitate reiecit omnibusque numeris pudoris πολλὴν πρόνοιαν ἔσχεν εὐσχήμων πεσεῖν.
Moreover Celer, a Roman knight, with whom Cornelia was charged, when he was being beaten with rods in the comitium, persisted in this one cry: "What have I done? I have done nothing."
Praeterea Celer eques Romanus, cui Cornelia obiciebatur, cum in comitio virgis caederetur, in hac voce perstiterat: ’Quid feci? nihil feci.’
Domitian therefore was blazing with the infamy both of cruelty and of injustice. He seizes upon Licinianus, because he had hidden a freedwoman of Cornelia’s on his lands. He was warned beforehand by those who cared for him that, if he did not wish to suffer the comitium and the rods, he should take refuge in confession as in a pardon. He did so.
Ardebat ergo Domitianus et crudelitatis et iniquitatis infamia. Arripit Licinianum, quod in agris suis occultasset Corneliae libertam. Ille ab iis quibus erat curae praemonetur, si comitium et virgas pati nollet, ad confessionem confugeret quasi ad veniam. Fecit.
On behalf of the absent man Herennius Senecio spoke something of this kind, like that line, "Patroclus lies dead." For he said: "From an advocate I have become a messenger: Licinianus has withdrawn."
Locutus est pro absente Herennius Senecio tale quiddam, quale est illud: κεῖται πάτροκλος. Ait enim: ’Ex advocato nuntius factus sum; Licinianus recessit.’
This was so welcome to Domitian that he was betrayed into joy, and said: "Licinianus has acquitted us." He even added that his sense of shame must not be pressed; and he allowed the man himself to snatch what he could of his property before his goods were confiscated, and granted him a mild exile, as though a reward.
Gratum hoc Domitiano adeo quidem ut gaudio proderetur, diceretque: ’Absolvit nos Licinianus.’ Adiecit etiam non esse verecundiae eius instandum; ipsi vero permisit, si qua posset, ex rebus suis raperet, antequam bona publicarentur, exsiliumque molle velut praemium dedit.
From which, however, he was afterwards transferred, by the clemency of the deified Nerva, to Sicily, where he now teaches rhetoric and avenges himself upon fortune in his prefaces.
Ex quo tamen postea clementia divi Nervae translatus est in Siciliam, ubi nunc profitetur seque de fortuna praefationibus vindicat.
You see how obligingly I obey you, in that I write so diligently not only city affairs but foreign ones too, going back to the beginning. And indeed I supposed that you, because you were away at the time, had heard nothing of Licinianus except that he was banished for unchastity. For rumor reports the sum of things, not the sequence.
Vides quam obsequenter paream tibi, qui non solum res urbanas verum etiam peregrinas tam sedulo scribo, ut altius repetam. Et sane putabam te, quia tunc afuisti, nihil aliud de Liciniano audisse quam relegatum ob incestum. Summam enim rerum nuntiat fama non ordinem.
I deserve that you in turn write me in full what is going on in your town, what in the neighboring ones — for some notable things do happen — in short, whatever you like, provided you report it in a letter no shorter. I shall count not only the pages but the lines, and even the syllables. Farewell.
Mereor ut vicissim, quid in oppido tuo, quid in finitimis agatur - solent enim quaedam notabilia incidere - perscribas, denique quidquid voles dum modo non minus longa epistula nuntia. Ego non paginas tantum sed versus etiam syllabasque numerabo. Vale.
You love Egnatius Marcellinus, and you often commend him to me as well; you will love and commend him the more, when you have learned of his recent action.
Amas Egnatium Marcellinum atque etiam mihi saepe commendas; amabis magis commendabisque, si cognoveris eius recens factum.
When he had gone out to his province as quaestor, and had lost, before the legal time for the salary, the clerk who had fallen to him by lot, he realized that what he had received to pay the clerk ought not to stay with him, and so resolved.
Cum in provinciam quaestor exisset, scribamque qui sorte obtigerat ante legitimum salarii tempus amisisset, quod acceperat scribae daturus, intellexit et statuit subsidere apud se non oportere.
And so on his return he consulted Caesar, and then, on Caesar’s advice, the senate, as to what should be done with the salary. A small question, but a question nonetheless. The clerk’s heirs claimed it for themselves, the prefects of the treasury for the people.
Itaque reversus Caesarem, deinde Caesare auctore senatum consuluit, quid fieri de salario vellet. Parva quaestio sed tamen quaestio. Heredes scribae sibi, praefecti aerari populo vindicabant.
The case was argued; the advocate of the heirs spoke, then that of the people, each very aptly. Caecilius Strabo gave it as his opinion that it should be paid into the treasury, Baebius Macer that it should be given to the heirs: Strabo carried it.
Acta causa est; dixit heredum advocatus, deinde populi, uterque percommode. Caecilius Strabo aerario censuit inferendum, Baebius Macer heredibus dandum: obtinuit Strabo.
Do you praise Marcellinus, as I did at once. For though it abundantly suffices him to have been approved by both the emperor and the senate, he will still be glad of your testimony.
Tu lauda Marcellinum, ut ego statim feci. Quamvis enim abunde sufficiat illi quod est et a principe et a senatu probatus, gaudebit tamen testimonio tuo.
For all who are led by glory and fame are delighted, in a remarkable way, by assent and praise even when it comes from their inferiors. And you, Marcellinus so respects that he gives the greatest weight to your judgment.
Omnes enim, qui gloria famaque ducuntur, mirum in modum assensio et laus a minoribus etiam profecta delectat. Te vero Marcellinus ita veretur ut iudicio tuo plurimum tribuat.
Add to this that, if he learns his deed has reached even so far as that, he must rejoice in the extent, the course, the travels of his praise. For somehow men are pleased even more by glory that is wide than by glory that is great. Farewell.
Accedit his quod, si cognoverit factum suum isto usque penetrasse, necesse est laudis suae spatio et cursu et peregrinatione laetetur. Etenim nescio quo pacto vel magis homines iuvat gloria lata quam magna. Vale.
I am glad you have come safe to the city; and you have come, if ever at any time, now most longed for by me. I myself shall stay a very few days more at my Tusculan place, to finish the little work I have in hand.
Salvum in urbem venisse gaudeo; venisti autem, si quando alias, nunc maxime mihi desideratus. Ipse pauculis adhuc diebus in Tusculano commorabor, ut opusculum quod est in manibus absolvam.
For I fear that, if I now slacken this effort when it is near its end, I shall take it up again only with difficulty. Meanwhile, that nothing may be lost to my haste, what I am going to ask in person I ask by this, a sort of advance-guard letter. But first hear the reasons for the asking, then the thing itself that I ask.
Vereor enim ne, si hanc intentionem iam in fine laxavero, aegre resumam. Interim ne quid festinationi meae pereat, quod sum praesens petiturus, hac quasi praecursoria epistula rogo. Sed prius accipe causas rogandi, deinde ipsum quod peto.
Lately, when I was in my native town, the son of a fellow townsman, still in his boy’s toga, came to pay his respects to me. I said to him, "Are you studying?" He answered, "Yes." "Where?" "At Milan." "Why not here?" And his father — for he was there too, and had himself brought the boy — said: "Because we have no teachers here."
Proxime cum in patria mea fui, venit ad me salutandum municipis mei filius praetextatus. Huic ego ’Studes?’ inquam. Respondit: ’Etiam.’ ’Ubi?’ ’Mediolani.’ ’Cur non hic?’ Et pater eius - erat enim una atque etiam ipse adduxerat puerum -: ’Quia nullos hic praeceptores habemus.’
"Why none? For it deeply concerned you who are fathers" — and conveniently several fathers were listening — "that your children should learn here above all. For where would they stay more pleasantly than in their native town, or be kept more decently than under their parents’ eyes, or at less expense than at home?
’Quare nullos? Nam vehementer intererat vestra, qui patres estis’ - et opportune complures patres audiebant - ’liberos vestros hic potissimum discere. Ubi enim aut iucundius morarentur quam in patria aut pudicius continerentur quam sub oculis parentum aut minore sumptu quam domi?
How small a thing it is, then, to hire teachers with pooled money, and to add to their fees what you now spend on lodgings, on travel, on the things that are bought abroad — and everything is bought abroad! Indeed I myself, who as yet have no children, am ready, for our commonwealth’s sake, as for a daughter or a parent, to give a third part of whatever sum you decide to contribute.
Quantulum est ergo collata pecunia conducere praeceptores, quodque nunc in habitationes, in viatica, in ea quae peregre emuntur - omnia autem peregre emuntur - impenditis, adicere mercedibus? Atque adeo ego, qui nondum liberos habeo, paratus sum pro re publica nostra, quasi pro filia vel parente, tertiam partem eius quod conferre vobis placebit dare.
I would even promise the whole, did I not fear that this gift of mine might at some time be corrupted by canvassing, as I see happens in many places where teachers are hired at public expense.
Totum etiam pollicerer, nisi timerem ne hoc munus meum quandoque ambitu corrumperetur, ut accidere multis in locis video, in quibus praeceptores publice conducuntur.
This fault can be met by one remedy: if the right of hiring is left to the parents alone, and to them the scruple of judging rightly is added by the obligation of contributing.
Huic vitio occurri uno remedio potest, si parentibus solis ius conducendi relinquatur, isdemque religio recte iudicandi necessitate collationis addatur.
For those who are perhaps careless with another’s money will certainly be careful with their own, and will see to it that no one receives money from me unless he is worthy, if he is to receive it from them as well.
Nam qui fortasse de alieno neglegentes, certe de suo diligentes erunt dabuntque operam, ne a me pecuniam non nisi dignus accipiat, si accepturus et ab ipsis erit.
So agree together, join in the plan, and take greater heart from mine — I who wish that the sum I am to contribute should be as large as possible. Nothing more honorable can you furnish your children, nothing more welcome to your country. Let those who are born here be educated here, and from earliest infancy grow accustomed to love and frequent their native soil. And would that you might bring in teachers so distinguished that learning is sought here from the neighboring towns, and that, as now your children go off to other places, so soon others’ children may flow together into this one!"
Proinde consentite conspirate maioremque animum ex meo sumite, qui cupio esse quam plurimum, quod debeam conferre. Nihil honestius praestare liberis vestris, nihil gratius patriae potestis. Educentur hic qui hic nascuntur, statimque ab infantia natale solum amare frequentare consuescant. Atque utinam tam claros praeceptores inducatis, ut in finitimis oppidis studia hinc petantur, utque nunc liberi vestri aliena in loca ita mox alieni in hunc locum confluant!’
These things I thought I should go back over from further off, as from the source, that you might know the better how welcome it would be to me if you took up what I lay upon you. And I lay it upon you, and, for the greatness of the matter, ask that, from the throng of students which gathers about you out of admiration for your genius, you look out for teachers whom we may approach — on this condition, however, that I pledge my word to no one. For I keep everything free for the parents: let them judge, let them choose; I claim for myself only the care and the cost.
Haec putavi altius et quasi a fonte repetenda, quo magis scires, quam gratum mihi foret si susciperes quod iniungo. Iniungo autem et pro rei magnitudine rogo, ut ex copia studiosorum, quae ad te ex admiratione ingenii tui convenit, circumspicias praeceptores, quos sollicitare possimus, sub ea tamen condicione ne cui fidem meam obstringam. Omnia enim libera parentibus servo: illi iudicent illi eligant, ego mihi curam tantum et impendium vindico.
So if anyone is found who trusts in his own talent, let him go there on this term: that he take from here nothing else certain but his own self-confidence. Farewell.
Proinde si quis fuerit repertus, qui ingenio suo fidat, eat illuc ea lege ut hinc nihil aliud certum quam fiduciam suam ferat. Vale.
You perhaps, as usual, both demand and await a speech; but I, as though from some foreign and dainty wares, bring out my trifles for you.
Tu fortasse orationem, ut soles, et flagitas et exspectas; at ego quasi ex aliqua peregrina delicataque merce lusus meos tibi prodo.
You will receive with this letter my hendecasyllables, with which I amuse the leisure of my time, in the carriage, in the bath, at dinner.
Accipies cum hac epistula hendecasyllabos nostros, quibus nos in vehiculo in balineo inter cenam oblectamus otium temporis.
In them we jest, we play, we love, we grieve, we complain, we are angry; we describe something now more restrainedly, now more loftily; and by the very variety we try to bring it about that some pieces please some readers, and a few perhaps please all.
His iocamur ludimus amamus dolemus querimur irascimur, describimus aliquid modo pressius modo elatius, atque ipsa varietate temptamus efficere, ut alia aliis quaedam fortasse omnibus placeant.
Yet if some of them seem to you a little too wanton, it will belong to your learning to remember that those great and most weighty men who wrote such things abstained neither from wantonness of matter nor even from naked words — which we shun, not because we are more severe — for how should we be? — but because we are more timid.
Ex quibus tamen si non nulla tibi petulantiora paulo videbuntur, erit eruditionis tuae cogitare summos illos et gravissimos viros qui talia scripserunt non modo lascivia rerum, sed ne verbis quidem nudis abstinuisse; quae nos refugimus, non quia severiores - unde enim? -, sed quia timidiores sumus.
For it becomes the dutiful poet to be chaste himself; his little verses need not be — which only then have salt and charm if they are softish and not too modest.
Nam castum esse decet pium poetam ipsum, versiculos nihil necesse est, qui tunc denique habent salem et leporem si sunt molliculi et parum pudici.
How much I value your judgment you can gauge even from this, that I preferred to have everything weighed by you rather than to have selected pieces praised. And indeed the most pleasing things cease to seem so, once they have begun to have their equals.
Ego quanti faciam iudicium tuum, vel ex hoc potes aestimare, quod malui omnia a te pensitari quam electa laudari. Et sane quae sunt commodissima desinunt videri, cum paria esse coeperunt.
Besides, a wise and discerning reader ought not to compare different things with different, but to weigh each by itself, nor to think worse than another that which is perfect in its own kind.
Praeterea sapiens subtilisque lector debet non diversis conferre diversa, sed singula expendere, nec deterius alio putare quod est in suo genere perfectum.
But why say more? For to excuse or to commend trifles with a long preface is the most trifling thing of all. This one thing seems worth declaring in advance: that I am minded to entitle these bagatelles of mine "Hendecasyllables," a title bound by the law of meter alone.
Sed quid ego plura? Nam longa praefatione vel excusare vel commendare ineptias ineptissimum est. Unum illud praedicendum videtur, cogitare me has meas nugas ita inscribere ’hendecasyllabi’, qui titulus sola metri lege constringitur.
So, whether you prefer to call them epigrams, or idylls, or eclogues, or, as many do, little poems, or whatever else, you may; I warrant only hendecasyllables.
Proinde, sive epigrammata sive idyllia sive eclogas sive, ut multi, poematia seu quod aliud vocare malueris, licebit voces; ego tantum hendecasyllabos praesto.
Of your frankness I ask that what you are going to say about my little book to another, you say to me; nor is what I demand difficult. For if this little work of mine were either my chief one or my only one, it might perhaps seem harsh to say, "Find something to do"; but it is gentle and kind to say, "You have something to do." Farewell.
A simplicitate tua peto, quod de libello meo dicturus es alii, mihi dicas; neque est difficile quod postulo. Nam si hoc opusculum nostrum aut potissimum esset aut solum, fortasse posset durum videri dicere: ’Quaere quod agas’; molle et humanum est: ’Habes quod agas.’ Vale.
If I do anything at all from judgment, I certainly do this — that I am singularly fond of Asinius Rufus. He is an outstanding man, and most devoted to good men. For why should I not count myself too among the good? The same man has embraced Cornelius Tacitus — you know what a man — in close intimacy.
Si quid omnino, hoc certe iudicio facio, quod Asinium Rufum singulariter amo. Est homo eximius et bonorum amantissimus. Cur enim non me quoque inter bonos numerem? Idem Cornelium Tacitum - scis quem virum - arta familiaritate complexus est.
So if you approve of us both, you must think the same of Rufus too, since likeness of character is the most tenacious bond for knitting friendships together.
Proinde si utrumque nostrum probas, de Rufo quoque necesse est idem sentias, cum sit ad conectendas amicitias vel tenacissimum vinculum morum similitudo.
He has several children. For in this too he has discharged the duty of an excellent citizen, in that he chose to enjoy his wife’s fruitfulness abundantly, in an age in which the rewards of childlessness make even single sons a burden to most men. Despising these, he has taken on the name of grandfather as well. For a grandfather he is — and that through Saturius Firmus, whom you will love as I do, if, as I have, you look at him more closely.
Sunt ei liberi plures. Nam in hoc quoque functus est optimi civis officio, quod fecunditate uxoris large frui voluit, eo saeculo quo plerisque etiam singulos filios orbitatis praemia graves faciunt. Quibus ille despectis, avi quoque nomen assumpsit. Est enim avus, et quidem ex Saturio Firmo, quem diliges ut ego si ut ego propius inspexeris.
These things bear on this: that you may know how plentiful, how numerous a household you will lay under obligation by a single favor; to the asking of which we are led, first by a wish, then by a kind of good omen.
Haec eo pertinent, ut scias quam copiosam, quam numerosam domum uno beneficio sis obligaturus; ad quod petendum voto primum, deinde bono quodam omine adducimur.
For we wish you, and prophesy for you, the consulship in the coming year: so your virtues, so the emperor’s judgments, would have us augur.
Optamus enim tibi ominamurque in proximum annum consulatum: ita nos virtutes tuae, ita iudicia principis augurari volunt.
And it falls together that in the same year the eldest of Rufus’s children, Asinius Bassus, will be quaestor — a young man (I am not sure whether to say, what his father both wishes me to think and to say, but the young man’s modesty forbids) better than his father himself.
Concurrit autem ut sit eodem anno quaestor maximus ex liberis Rufi, Asinius Bassus, iuvenis - nescio an dicam, quod me pater et sentire et dicere cupit, adulescentis verecundia vetat - ipso patre melior.
It is hard for you to believe me about an absent man — though you are wont to believe me in everything — that there is in him so much industry, probity, learning, talent, diligence, and, in fine, memory, as you will find when you have put him to the test.
Difficile est ut mihi de absente credas - quamquam credere soles omnia -, tantum in illo industriae probitatis eruditionis ingenii studii memoriae denique esse, quantum expertus invenies.
I could wish we had an age so fertile in good qualities that you ought to prefer some others to Bassus: then I would be the first to urge and warn you to cast your eyes around and weigh long whom you should choose above all.
Vellem tam ferax saeculum bonis artibus haberemus, ut aliquos Basso praeferre deberes: tum ego te primus hortarer moneremque, circumferres oculos ac diu pensitares, quem potissimum eligeres.
But as it is — yet I will say nothing too arrogant about my friend; this only I say: he is a young man worthy for you to take, in the manner of our forefathers, into the place of a son. And wise men, like you, ought to receive from the commonwealth, as children, such as we are wont to pray for from nature.
Nunc vero - sed nihil volo de amico meo arrogantius dicere; hoc solum dico, dignum esse iuvenem quem more maiorum in filii locum assumas. Debent autem sapientes viri, ut tu, tales quasi liberos a re publica accipere, quales a natura solemus optare.
A quaestor, with a praetorian father and consular kinsmen, will be a credit to you as consul — to whom, by their own judgment, he is already in turn an ornament, young as he still is.
Decorus erit tibi consuli quaestor patre praetorio, propinquis consularibus, quibus iudicio ipsorum, quamquam asulescentulus adhuc, iam tamen invicem ornamento est.
So indulge my prayers, comply with my advice, and above all, if I seem to be in a hurry, forgive me — first, because love usually runs ahead of its own wishes; next, because in a state in which everything is done, as it were, by those who seize the moment, the things that wait for the legal time are not ripe but late; in sum, because the very anticipation of things you long to attain is itself pleasant.
Proinde indulge precibus meis, obsequere consilio, et ante omnia si festinare videor ignosce, primum quia votis suis amor plerumque praecurrit; deinde quod in ea civitate, in qua omnia quasi ab occupantibus aguntur, quae legitimum tempus exspectant, non matura sed sera sunt; in summa quod rerum, quas assequi cupias, praesumptio ipsa iucunda est.
Let Bassus reverence you now as consul, you love him as quaestor, and let us at last, most fond of you both, enjoy a double gladness.
Revereatur iam te Bassus ut consulem, tu dilige illum ut quaestorem, nos denique utriusque vestrum amantissimi laetitia duplici perfruamur.
For indeed, since we so love you, and so love Bassus, that we would help him, whoever’s quaestor he were, and your quaestor, whoever he were, in seeking office with all our resources, toil, and influence, it will be most pleasant to us if both my friendship and the circumstance of your consulship have brought our zeal to bear on the same young man — if, in fine, you above all join as a helper to my prayers, you to whose vote the senate most gladly yields and to whose testimony it gives the greatest credit. Farewell.
Etenim cum sic te, sic Bassum diligamus, ut et illum cuiuscumque et tuum quemcumque quaestorem in petendis honoribus omni ope labore gratia simus iuvaturi, perquam iucundum nobis erit, si in eundem iuvenem studium nostrum et amicitiae meae et consulatus tui ratio contulerit, si denique precibus meis tu potissimum adiutor accesseris, cuius et suffragio senatus libentissime indulgeat et testimonio plurimum credat. Vale.
Rejoice on my account, rejoice on your own, rejoice even on the public account: honor still endures for letters. Lately, when I was to speak before the centumviri, there was no way for me to approach except from the tribunal, except through the judges themselves; so dense was the press that held all the rest.
Gaude meo, gaude tuo, gaude etiam publico nomine: adhuc honor studiis durat. Proxime cum dicturus apud centumviros essem, adeundi mihi locus nisi a tribunali, nisi per ipsos iudices non fuit; tanta stipatione cetera tenebantur.
Moreover a certain well-dressed young man, his tunic torn — as happens in a crowd — stood his ground, covered by his toga alone, and that for seven hours.
Ad hoc quidam ornatus adulescens scissis tunicis, ut in frequentia solet fieri, sola velatus toga perstitit et quidem horis septem.
For so long did I speak, with great effort, with greater reward. Let us study, then, and not put forward others’ idleness as a screen for our own. There are those who will listen, those who will read; let us only work out something worthy of their ears, worthy of the page. Farewell.
Nam tam diu dixi magno cum labore, maiore cum fructu. Studeamus ergo nec desidiae nostrae praetendamus alienam. Sunt qui audiant, sunt qui legant, nos modo dignum aliquid auribus dignum chartis elaboremus. Vale.
You both remind me and ask me to take up the case of the absent Corellia against Gaius Caecilius, consul-designate. For the reminding, I thank you; for the asking, I complain. For I ought to be reminded, so that I may know; I ought not to be asked to do what it would be most shameful for me not to do.
Et admones et rogas, ut suscipiam causam Corelliae absentis contra C. Caecilium consulem designatum. Quod admones, gratias ago; quod rogas, queror. Admoneri enim debeo ut sciam, rogari non debeo ut faciam, quod mihi non facere turpissimum est.
Should I hesitate to protect the daughter of Corellius? I do indeed have with the man against whom you call me, not exactly intimacy, but yet a friendship.
An ego tueri Corelli filiam dubitem? Est quidem mihi cum isto, contra quem me advocas, non plane familiaris sed tamen amicitia.
Add to this the man’s rank, and the very office to which he is destined — toward which we owe the greater respect because we have already held it. For it is natural that a man should wish the things he has himself attained to be esteemed as great as possible.
Accedit huc dignitas hominis atque hic ipse cui destinatus est honor, cuius nobis hoc maior agenda reverentia est, quod iam illo functi sumus. Naturale est enim ut ea, quae quis adeptus est ipse, quam amplissima existimari velit.
But when I think of standing by Corellius’s daughter, all those considerations seem cold and empty. There floats before my eyes that man, than whom our age has produced none weightier, none holier, none more discerning — whom, when I had begun to love out of admiration (the opposite of what usually happens), I admired the more after I had looked into him deeply.
Sed mihi cogitanti adfuturum me Corelli filiae omnia ista frigida et inania videntur. Obversatur oculis ille vir quo neminem aetas nostra graviorem sanctiorem subtiliorem tulit, quem ego cum ex admiratione diligere coepissem, quod evenire contra solet, magis admiratus sum postquam penitus inspexi.
For I did look into him deeply: he kept nothing secret from me, nothing jesting, nothing serious, nothing sad, nothing glad.
Inspexi enim penitus: nihil a me ille secretum, non ioculare non serium, non triste non laetum.
I was a very young man, and already he showed me honor and even — I will dare to say — reverence, as to an equal. He was my supporter and witness in seeking offices; in beginning them, my escort and companion; in carrying them out, my counselor and guide; he, in short, in all my duties, though weak and aged, showed himself, as it were, young and strong.
Adulescentulus eram, et iam mihi ab illo honor atque etiam - audebo dicere - reverentia ut aequali habebatur. Ille meus in petendis honoribus suffragator et testis, ille in incohandis deductor et comes, ille in gerendis consiliator et rector, ille denique in omnibus officiis nostris, quamquam et imbecillus et senior, quasi iuvenis et validus conspiciebatur.
How much he built up my reputation at home, in public, and even before the emperor!
Quantum ille famae meae domi in publico, quantum etiam apud principem astruxit!
For when by chance talk had fallen, in the presence of the emperor Nerva, upon promising young men, and most were praising me, he kept himself a while in silence — which added the greatest weight to his words; then, with that gravity you knew: "It is necessary," he said, "that I praise Secundus more sparingly, because he does nothing except on my advice."
Nam cum forte de bonis iuvenibus apud Nervam imperatorem sermo incidisset, et plerique me laudibus ferrent, paulisper se intra silentium tenuit, quod illi plurimum auctoritatis addebat; deinde gravitate quam noras: ’Necesse est’ inquit ’parcius laudem Secundum, quia nihil nisi ex consilio meo facit.’
By which utterance he granted me as much as it would have been extravagant to ask for in a prayer: that I did nothing but most wisely, since I did everything on the advice of a most wise man. Nay more, dying, he said to his daughter — she is wont to tell it herself: "Many friends indeed I have got for you, as in a longer life, but chief of them Secundus and Cornutus."
Qua voce tribuit mihi quantum petere voto immodicum erat, nihil me facere non sapientissime, cum omnia ex consilio sapientissimi viri facerem. Quin etiam moriens filiae suae - ipsa solet praedicare -: ’Multos quidem amicos tibi ut longiore vita paravi, praecipuos tamen Secundum et Cornutum.
When I recall this, I understand that I must work so as not to seem, in any part, to have failed this trust placed in me by a most provident man.
Quod cum recordor, intellego mihi laborandum, ne qua parte videar hanc de me fiduciam providentissimi viri destituisse.
Therefore I will indeed stand by Corellia most readily, nor will I refuse to incur offenses — though I think I shall obtain not only pardon but even praise from that very man, by whom (as you say) a new suit is perhaps being pressed, as against a woman, if I say these same things in the pleading, more fully and amply, of course, than the narrow bounds of a letter allow, either in my excuse or even in my commendation. Farewell.
Quare ego vero Corelliae adero promptissime nec subire offensas recusabo; quamquam non solum veniam me verum etiam laudem apud istum ipsum, a quo - ut ais - nova lis fortasse ut feminae intenditur, arbitror consecuturum, si haec eadem in actione, latius scilicet et uberius quam epistularum angustiae sinunt, vel in excusationem vel etiam commendationem meam dixero. Vale.
How can I better prove to you how greatly I admire your Greek epigrams than by the fact that I have tried to rival and render some of them in Latin? — for the worse, however. This happens, first, from the weakness of my talent, then from the poverty, or rather, as Lucretius says, the destitution of our native speech.
Quemadmodum magis approbare tibi possum, quanto opere mirer epigrammata tua Graeca, quam quod quaedam Latine aemulari et exprimere temptavi? in deterius tamen. Accidit hoc primum imbecillitate ingenii mei, deinde inopia ac potius, ut Lucretius ait, egestate patrii sermonis.
But if these, which are both Latin and mine, seem to you to have any grace, how much charm do you suppose is in those which come both from you and in Greek! Farewell.
Quodsi haec, quae sunt et Latina et mea, habere tibi aliquid venustatis videbuntur, quantum putas inesse iis gratiae, quae et a te et Graece proferuntur! Vale.
Since you are a model of family devotion, and loved your excellent brother, most loving of you, with an equal love, and love his daughter as your own, and show her not only an aunt’s affection but represent to her the father she has lost, I do not doubt it will be the greatest joy to you to learn that she is turning out worthy of her father, worthy of you, worthy of her grandfather.
Cum sis pietatis exemplum, fratremque optimum et amantissimum tui pari caritate dilexeris, filiamque eius ut tuam diligas, nec tantum amitae ei affectum verum etiam patris amissi repraesentes, non dubito maximo tibi gaudio fore cum cognoveris dignam patre dignam te dignam avo evadere.
Her quickness is of the highest, her thrift the greatest; she loves me, which is a sign of her purity. To these is added a zeal for literature, which she conceived out of her love for me. She has my little books, reads them again and again, even learns them by heart.
Summum est acumen summa frugalitas; amat me, quod castitatis indicium est. Accedit his studium litterarum, quod ex mei caritate concepit. Meos libellos habet lectitat ediscit etiam.
With what anxiety she is filled when I seem about to plead, with what joy when I have pleaded! She posts people to report to her what assent, what shouts I have stirred, what verdict I have carried off. Likewise, whenever I give a recitation, she sits nearby, screened off by a curtain, and drinks in our praises with the most eager ears.
Qua illa sollicitudine cum videor acturus, quanto cum egi gaudio afficitur! Disponit qui nuntient sibi quem assensum quos clamores excitarim, quem eventum iudicii tulerim. Eadem, si quando recito, in proximo discreta velo sedet, laudesque nostras avidissimis auribus excipit.
My verses, indeed, she even sings, and sets them to the lyre, taught by no artist, but by love, which is the best master of all.
Versus quidem meos cantat etiam formatque cithara non artifice aliquo docente, sed amore qui magister est optimus.
For these reasons I am led to the surest hope that our harmony will be lasting, and grow greater day by day. For she loves not my age or my body, which little by little decline and grow old, but my glory.
His ex causis in spem certissimam adducor, perpetuam nobis maioremque in dies futuram esse concordiam. Non enim aetatem meam aut corpus, quae paulatim occidunt ac senescunt, sed gloriam diligit.
Nor does anything else befit one reared by your hands, trained by your precepts, who in your company saw nothing but what was holy and honorable, who, in fine, grew accustomed to love me from your telling.
Nec aliud decet tuis manibus educatam, tuis praeceptis institutam, quae nihil in contubernio tuo viderit, nisi sanctum honestumque, quae denique amare me ex tua praedicatione consueverit.
For since you revered my mother in a parent’s place, you used, from my boyhood onward, to mold me, to praise me, and to prophesy that I would be such a man as I now seem to my wife.
Nam cum matrem meam parentis loco vererere, me a pueritia statim formare laudare, talemque qualis nunc uxori meae videor, ominari solebas.
In rivalry, then, we give you thanks — I, that you gave her to me, she, that you gave me to her, as though you had chosen us for each other. Farewell.
Certatim ergo tibi gratias agimus, ego quod illam mihi, illa quod me sibi dederis, quasi invicem elegeris. Vale.
What I thought of your books one by one I made known to you as I finished reading each; receive now what I judge of them all in general.
Quid senserim de singulis tuis libris, notum tibi ut quemque perlegeram feci; accipe nunc quid de universis generaliter iudicem.
It is a work beautiful, strong, keen, sublime; varied, elegant, pure, well-figured; spacious too, and, to your great credit, expansive — in which you have sailed most widely with the sails of both genius and grief; and each of these was a help to the other.
Est opus pulchrum validum acre sublime, varium elegans purum figuratum, spatiosum etiam et cum magna tua laude diffusum, in quo tu ingenii simul dolorisque velis latissime vectus es; et horum utrumque invicem adiumento fuit.
For genius lent loftiness and magnificence to grief, and grief lent force and bitterness to genius. Farewell.
Nam dolori sublimitatem et magnificentiam ingenium, ingenio vim et amaritudinem dolor addidit. Vale.
A sad and bitter fate, that of the Helvidia sisters! Each died from childbirth, each having borne a daughter.
Tristem et acerbum casum Helvidiarum sororum! Utraque a partu, utraque filiam enixa decessit.
I am moved by grief, yet I do not grieve beyond measure: so mournful does it seem to me that fruitfulness carried off these most honorable young women in their first flower. I am pained by the lot of the infants, who are bereft of their mothers at once and in the very moment of being born; I am pained for their excellent husbands; I am pained on my own account too.
Afficior dolore, nec tamen supra modum doleo: ita mihi luctuosum videtur, quod puellas honestissimas in flore primo fecunditas abstulit. Angor infantium sorte, quae sunt parentibus statim et dum nascuntur orbatae, angor optimorum maritorum, angor etiam meo nomine.
For their father, though dead, I love with the utmost constancy still, as my pleading and my books attest; to whom one of three children now survives, and he, left desolate, props and sustains a house that a little before was founded on several supports.
Nam patrem illarum defunctum quoque perseverantissime diligo, ut actione mea librisque testatum est; cui nunc unus ex tribus liberis superest, domumque pluribus adminiculis paulo ante fundatam desolatus fulcit ac sustinet.
Yet my grief finds rest in one great solace: if fortune has preserved at least this one, strong and unharmed, and equal to that father, that grandfather of his. For his safety and his character I am the more anxious, in that he has become the only one.
Magno tamen fomento dolor meus acquiescit, si hunc saltem fortem et incolumem, paremque illi patri illi avo fortuna servaverit. Cuius ego pro salute pro moribus, hoc sum magis anxius quod unicus factus est.
You know the softness of my heart in love, you know my fears; so you should wonder the less that I fear most for him of whom I hope most. Farewell.
Nosti in amore mollitiam animi mei, nosti metus; quo minus te mirari oportebit, quod plurimum timeam, de quo plurimum spero. Vale.
I took part in the hearing of our excellent emperor, having been called into his council. A gymnastic contest is held at Vienne under the will of a certain man. This Trebonius Rufinus, an excellent man and a friend of mine, saw to abolishing and doing away with during his duumvirate.
Interfui principis optimi cognitioni in consilium assumptus. Gymnicus agon apud Viennenses ex cuiusdam testamento celebratur. Hunc Trebonius Rufinus, vir egregius nobisque amicus, in duumviratu tollendum abolendumque curavit.
It was denied that he had acted with public authority. He pleaded his own case no less successfully than eloquently. What recommended his pleading was that, like a Roman and a good citizen, he spoke in his own affair with ripeness and weight.
Negabatur ex auctoritate publica fecisse. Egit ipse causam non minus feliciter quam diserte. Commendabat actionem, quod tamquam homo Romanus et bonus civis in negotio suo mature et graviter loquebatur.
When the opinions were being asked in turn, Junius Mauricus — than whom there is no man firmer, none truer — said the contest should not be restored to the people of Vienne; he added: "I could wish it might be abolished at Rome too."
Cum sententiae perrogarentur, dixit Iunius Mauricus, quo viro nihil firmius nihil verius, non esse restituendum Viennensibus agona; adiecit ’Vellem etiam Romae tolli posset.’
Firmly, you say, and bravely; why not? But this is nothing new from Mauricus. The same man, before the emperor Nerva, was no less brave. Nerva was dining with a few; Veiento was next to him, and even reclining in his bosom: I have said everything when I have named the man.
Constanter, inquis, et fortiter; quidni? sed hoc a Maurico novum non est. Idem apud imperatorem Nervam non minus fortiter. Cenabat Nerva cum paucis; Veiento proximus atque etiam in sinu recumbebat: dixi omnia cum hominem nominavi.
The talk fell upon Catullus Messalinus, who, robbed of his sight, had added to the evils of his blindness a savage nature: he did not fear, did not blush, did not pity; for which reason he was the more often hurled by Domitian, like a weapon — which is itself blind and unforeseeing as it flies — against every best man.
Incidit sermo de Catullo Messalino, qui luminibus orbatus ingenio saevo mala caecitatis addiderat: non verebatur, non erubescebat, non miserebatur; quo saepius a Domitiano non secus ac tela, quae et ipsa caeca et improvida feruntur, in optimum quemque contorquebatur.
About this man’s villainy and bloodthirsty opinions all were talking together over dinner, when the emperor himself said: "What do we think he would be suffering if he were alive?" And Mauricus: "He would be dining with us."
De huius nequitia sanguinariisque sententiis in commune omnes super cenam loquebantur, cum ipse imperator: ’Quid putamus passurum fuisse si viveret?’ Et Mauricus: ’Nobiscum cenaret.’
I have wandered rather far afield, but gladly. It was resolved that the contest be abolished, which had infected the morals of the people of Vienne, as ours here infects everyone’s. For the vices of Vienne settle within themselves, ours range far and wide; and, as in bodies so in an empire, the gravest disease is that which spreads from the head. Farewell.
Longius abii, libens tamen. Placuit agona tolli, qui mores Viennensium infecerat, ut noster hic omnium. Nam Viennensium vitia intra ipsos residunt, nostra late vagantur, utque in corporibus sic in imperio gravissimus est morbus, qui a capite diffunditur. Vale.
I took great pleasure when I learned from friends we have in common that you, as befits your wisdom, both order your leisure and bear it; that you live most pleasantly, exercise your body now by land, now by sea, debate much, listen much, read much, and, though you know a great deal, yet learn something new every day.
Magnam cepi voluptatem, cum ex communibus amicis cognovi te, ut sapientia tua dignum est, et disponere otium et ferre, habitare amoenissime, et nunc terra nunc mari corpus agitare, multum disputare, multum audire multum lectitare, cumque plurimum scias, cotidie tamen aliquid addiscere.
So ought a man to grow old who has held the highest magistracies, commanded armies, and given himself wholly to the commonwealth for as long as was fitting.
Ita senescere oportet virum, qui magistratus amplissimos gesserit, exercitus rexerit, totumque se rei publicae quam diu decebat obtulerit.
For we ought to give the first periods of life and the middle to our country, the last to ourselves, as the very laws advise, which restore the man advanced in years to leisure.
Nam et prima vitae tempora et media patriae, extrema nobis impertire debemus, ut ipsae leges monent, quae maiorem annis otio reddunt.
When will it be permitted me, when will it be honorable, by reason of age, to imitate that example of most beautiful repose? When will my retirements receive the name not of idleness but of tranquillity? Farewell.
Quando mihi licebit, quando per aetatem honestum erit imitari istud pulcherrimae quietis exemplum? quando secessus mei non desidiae nomen sc tranquillitatis accipient? Vale.
Lately, when I had spoken before the centumviri in a fourfold court, the recollection came over me that I had pleaded, as a young man, likewise in a fourfold court.
Proxime cum apud centumviros in quadruplici iudicio dixissem, subiit recordatio egisse me iuvenem aeque in quadruplici.
My mind went on, as it does, further: I began to reckon up whom I had had as partners in my labor in this court, whom in that. I was the only one who had spoken in both: such great reversals does either the frailty of mortality or the mutability of fortune bring about.
Processit animus ut solet longius: coepi reputare quos in hoc iudicio, quos in illo socios laboris habuissem. Solus eram qui in utroque dixissem: tantas conversiones aut fragilitas mortalitatis aut fortunae mobilitas facit.
Some of those who pleaded then have died, others are in exile; this man age and ill health have persuaded to silence, that one by choice enjoys a most blessed leisure; another commands an army, another the emperor’s friendship has exempted from civil duties.
Quidam ex iis qui tunc egerant decesserunt, exsulant alii; huic aetas et valetudo silentium suasit, hic sponte beatissimo otio fruitur; alius exercitum regit, illum civilibus officiis principis amicitia exemit.
About ourselves too, how much has changed! By our studies we have risen, by our studies we have been imperiled, and again we have risen:
Circa nos ipsos quam multa mutata sunt! Studiis processimus, studiis periclitati sumus, rursusque processimus:
the friendships of good men have helped us, the friendships of good men have harmed us, and again they help. If you count the years, a brief span; if the turns of fortune, you would think it an age;
profuerunt nobis bonorum amicitiae, bonorum obfuerunt iterumque prosunt. Si computes annos, exiguum tempus, si vices rerum, aevum putes;
which may serve as a lesson to despair of nothing, to trust in nothing, when we see so many changes wheeled round on so revolving an orbit.
quod potest esse documento nihil desperare, nulli rei fidere, cum videamus tot varietates tam volubili orbe circumagi.
It is my habit to share all my thoughts with you, and to admonish you with the same precepts or examples with which I admonish myself; and that was the purpose of this letter. Farewell.
Mihi autem familiare est omnes cogitationes meas tecum communicare, isdemque te vel praeceptis vel exemplis monere, quibus ipse me moneo; quae ratio huius epistulae fuit. Vale.
I had written to you that it was to be feared lest some abuse should arise from the secret ballot. It has happened. At the last elections, on some of the tablets were found many jocular and even foul-spoken things, and on one, in place of the candidates’ names, the names of their backers.
Scripseram tibi verendum esse, ne ex tacitis suffragiis vitium aliquod exsisteret. Factum est. Proximis comitiis in quibusdam tabellis multa iocularia atque etiam foeda dictu, in una vero pro candidatorum nominibus suffragatorum nomina inventa sunt.
The senate flared up, and with a great shout called down the emperor’s anger upon the man who had written it. He, however, escaped notice and lay hidden — perhaps he was even among the indignant.
Excanduit senatus magnoque clamore ei qui scripsisset iratum principem est comprecatus. Ille tamen fefellit et latuit, fortasse etiam inter indignantes fuit.
What do we suppose this man does at home, who in so great a matter, at so serious a time, jests so scurrilously — who, in short, is altogether witty and urbane and charming in the senate?
Quid hunc putamus domi facere, qui in tanta re tam serio tempore tam scurriliter ludat, qui denique omnino in senatu dicax et urbanus et bellus est?
So much license does that confidence add to depraved natures: "For who will know?" He asked for the tablets, took the stylus, bent down his head, fears no one, despises himself.
Tantum licentiae pravis ingeniis adicit illa fiducia: ’quis enim sciet?’ Poposcit tabellas, stilum accepit, demisit caput, neminem veretur, se contemnit.
Hence these mockeries, worthy of the stage and the platform. Where are you to turn? What remedies are you to seek out? Everywhere the vices are stronger than the remedies. "But these things will be the care of one above us," to whom this idle and yet unbridled insolence of ours adds much daily watching, much labor. Farewell.
Inde ista ludibria scaena et pulpito digna. Quo te vertas? quae remedia conquiras? Ubique vitia remediis fortiora. Ἀλλὰ ταῦτα τῷ ὑπὲρ ἡμᾶς μελήσει, cui multum cotidie vigiliarum, multum laboris adicit haec nostra iners et tamen effrenata petulantia. Vale.
You ask that I see to the revising and correcting of my little books, which you have most zealously procured. I will. For what ought I to undertake more gladly, especially at your demand?
Petis ut libellos meos, quos studiosissime comparasti, recognoscendos emendandosque curem. Faciam. Quid enim suscipere libentius debeo, te praesertim exigente?
For when a man most weighty, most learned, most eloquent, and besides all this most busy, about to govern a very great province, thinks my writings worth carrying about with him, how greatly must I take care that this part of your baggage does not offend you as superfluous!
Nam cum vir gravissimus doctissimus disertissimus, super haec occupatissimus, maximae provinciae praefuturus, tanti putes scripta nostra circumferre tecum, quanto opere mihi providendum est, ne te haec pars sarcinarum tamquam supervacua offendat!
I will strive, then, first that you have these companions as agreeable as possible, then that on your return you find others which you may wish to add to them. For you, as a reader, urge me to new works in no small degree. Farewell.
Adnitar ergo, primum ut comites istos quam commodissimos habeas, deinde ut reversus invenias, quos istis addere velis. Neque enim mediocriter me ad nova opera tu lector hortaris. Vale.
It is the third day since I heard Sentius Augurinus recite, with the greatest pleasure of mine, indeed even admiration. He calls them "little poems." Much is done delicately, much loftily; much gracefully, much tenderly; much sweetly, much with gall.
Tertius dies est quod audivi recitantem Sentium Augurinum cum summa mea voluptate, immo etiam admiratione. Poematia appellat. Multa tenuiter multa sublimiter, multa venuste multa tenere, multa dulciter multa cum bile.
For some years now, I think, nothing of the same kind has been written more perfectly — unless perhaps either my love for him deceives me, or the fact that he carried me to the skies with his praises.
Aliquot annis puto nihil generis eiusdem absolutius scriptum, nisi forte me fallit aut amor eius aut quod ipsum me laudibus vexit.
For he took a theme to himself — that I sometimes amuse myself with verses. And indeed I will make you the judge of my judgment, if the second line of this very theme comes back to me; for the rest I hold by heart, and have already worked out.
Nam lemma sibi sumpsit, quod ego interdum versibus ludo. Atque adeo iudicii mei te iudicem faciam, si mihi ex hoc ipso lemmate secundus versus occurrerit; nam ceteros teneo et iam explicui.
I sing songs in little verses, those in which once my Catullus too, and Calvus, and the men of old. But what is that to me? Pliny alone is, for me, the ancients: he prefers, the Forum left behind, his little verses, and seeks something to love, and thinks himself loved. O that Pliny — he, how many Catos in one! Go now, whoever you are that love, and refuse to love.
Canto carmina versibus minutis, his olim quibus et meus Catullus et Calvus veteresque. Sed quid ad me? Unus Plinius est mihi priores: mavult versiculos foro relicto et quaerit quod amet, putatque amari. Ille o Plinius, ille quot Catones! I nunc, quisquis amas, amare noli.
You see how pointed everything is, how apt, how expressive. To this taste I warrant the whole book, which I will show you as soon as he has published it. Meanwhile, love the young man, and congratulate our times on so fine a talent, which he adorns with his character. He lives with Spurinna, he lives with Antoninus — to the one a kinsman, to both a companion.
Vides quam acuta omnia quam apta quam expressa. Ad hunc gustum totum librum repromitto, quem tibi ut primum publicaverit exhibebo. Interim ama iuvenem et temporibus nostris gratulare pro ingenio tali, quod ille moribus adornat. Vivit cum Spurinna, vivit cum Antonino, quorum alteri affinis, utrique contubernalis est.
knowing that a man is such as those whose company he delights in.
γινώσκων ὅτι τοιοῦτὸς ἐστιν, οἷσπερ ἥδεται συνών.
Herennius Severus, a most learned man, sets great store by placing in his library the portraits of your townsmen Cornelius Nepos and Titus Catius, and asks that, if they are there — as it is likely they are — I assign someone to have them copied and painted.
Herennius Severus vir doctissimus magni aestimat in bibliotheca sua ponere imagines municipum tuorum Corneli Nepotis et Titi Cati petitque, si sunt istic, ut esse credibile est, exscribendas pingendasque delegem.
This task I lay upon you above all, first because you most kindly comply with my wishes, next because you have the highest reverence for letters and the highest love for the learned, and last because you reverence and love your native town, and all who have increased its name, as you do the town itself.
Quam curam tibi potissimum iniungo, primum quia desideriis meis amicissime obsequeris, deinde quia tibi studiorum summa reverentia, summus amor studiosorum, postremo quod patriam tuam omnesque, qui nomen eius auxerunt, ut patriam ipsam veneraris et diligis.
And I ask that you engage as careful a painter as possible. For while it is hard to render a likeness from the living original, by far the most difficult thing is the imitation of an imitation; from which I ask that you not allow the artist you choose to stray, not even for the better. Farewell.
Peto autem, ut pictorem quam diligentissimum assumas. Nam cum est arduum similitudinem effingere ex vero, tum longe difficillima est imitationis imitatio; a qua rogo ut artificem quem elegeris ne in melius quidem sinas aberrare. Vale.
Come now! When next the cases are heard, come to give judgment by whatever means: there is no reason for you to sleep on your right ear, trusting in me. Idleness does not go unpunished.
Heia tu! cum proxime res agentur, quoquo modo ad iudicandum veni: nihil est quod in dextram aurem fiducia mei dormias. Non impune cessatur.
Look — Licinius Nepos, the praetor! Keen and bold, and praetor, he imposed a fine even on a senator. The man pleaded his own case in the senate, but pleaded it so as to beg off. The fine was remitted — but he was afraid, but he had to ask, but there was need of pardon.
Ecce Licinius Nepos praetor! Acer et fortis et praetor, multam dixit etiam senatori. Egit ille in senatu causam suam, egit autem sic ut deprecaretur. Remissa est multa, sed timuit, sed rogavit, sed opus venia fuit.
You will say: "Not all praetors are so severe." You are mistaken; for to establish or to revive such a precedent belongs only to the severe, but to enforce it, once established or revived, even the gentlest can. Farewell.
Dices: ’Non omnes praetores tam severi. Falleris; nam vel instituere vel reducere eiusmodi exemplum non nisi severi, institutum reductumve exercere etiam lenissimi possunt. Vale.
I have brought you from my native region, as a little gift, a problem most worthy of that deep learning of yours.
Attuli tibi ex patria mea pro munusculo quaestionem altissima ista eruditione dignissimam.
A spring rises on a mountain, runs down over rocks, and is received in a little dining-grotto made by hand; there, held back a little, it falls into Lake Larius. Its nature is wonderful: three times a day, at fixed increases and decreases, it rises and falls.
Fons oritur in monte, per saxa decurrit, excipitur cenatiuncula manu facta; ibi paulum retentus in Larium lacum decidit. Huius mira natura: ter in die statis auctibus ac diminutionibus crescit decrescitque.
This is plainly seen and detected with the greatest pleasure. You recline beside it and dine, and even drink from the spring itself — for it is very cold; and meanwhile, at fixed and measured intervals, it either withdraws or rises up.
Cernitur id palam et cum summa voluptate deprenditur. Iuxta recumbis et vesceris, atque etiam ex ipso fonte - nam est frigidissimus - potas; interim ille certis dimensisque momentis vel subtrahitur vel assurgit.
You set a ring, or something else, on the dry rock; it is washed by degrees and at last covered, then uncovered again and little by little abandoned. If you watch longer, you may see both happen a second time and a third.
Anulum seu quid; aliud ponis in sicco, alluitur sensim ac novissime operitur, detegitur rursus paulatimque deseritur. Si diutius observes, utrumque iterum ac tertio videas.
Does some hidden breath open and now close the mouth and throat of the spring, according as it comes in and meets it, or withdraws when driven out?
Spiritusne aliquis occultior os fontis et fauces modo laxat modo includit, prout illatus occurrit aut decessit expulsus?
As we see happen in flasks and other vessels of the same kind, whose outlet is not gaping nor immediately open. For those too, though tilted and pouring out, hold back what they pour, by certain delays of the struggling air, with frequent, as it were, hiccups.
Quod in ampullis ceterisque generis eiusdem videmus accidere, quibus non hians nec statim patens exitus. Nam illa quoque, quamquam prona atque vergentia, per quasdam obluctantis animae moras crebris quasi singultibus sistunt quod effundunt.
Or is the nature of the ocean the spring’s nature too, and by the same principle by which the ocean is driven on or sucked back, is this modest water, by alternating turns, held down and thrown up?
An, quae oceano natura, fonti quoque, quaque ille ratione aut impellitur aut resorbetur, hac modicus hic umor vicibus alternis supprimitur egeritur?
Or, as rivers that are carried down to the sea are turned back by opposing winds and the tide that meets them, is there something that beats back the outflow of this spring?
An ut flumina, quae in mare deferuntur, adversantibus ventis obvioque aestu retorquentur, ita est aliquid quod huius fontis excursum repercutiat?
Or is there a fixed measure in the hidden channels, which, while it collects again what it had drained off, is brought forth a smaller and slower stream, but, when it has collected it, a quicker and greater one?
An latentibus venis certa mensura, quae dum colligit quod exhauserat, minor rivus et pigrior; cum collegit, agilior maiorque profertur?
Or is there some hidden and unseen counterpoise, which, when it has been emptied, rouses and draws forth the spring, and, when refilled, checks and chokes it?
An nescio quod libramentum abditum et caecum, quod cum exinanitum est, suscitat et elicit fontem; cum repletum, moratur et strangulat?
Search out the causes yourself — for you can — that produce so great a marvel: for me it is more than enough, if I have sufficiently described what is produced. Farewell.
Scrutare tu causas - potes enim -, quae tantum miraculum efficiunt: mihi abunde est, si satis expressi quod efficitur. Vale.
A legacy has come to me, a modest one, but more welcome than the largest. Why more welcome than the largest? Pomponia Galla, having disinherited her son Asudius Curianus, had left me her heir, and had given me as coheirs Sertorius Severus, a man of praetorian rank, and other distinguished Roman knights.
Legatum mihi obvenit modicum sed amplissimo gratius. Cur amplissimo gratius? Pomponia Galla exheredato filio Asudio Curiano heredem reliquerat me, dederat coheredes Sertorium Severum praetorium virum aliosque splendidos equites Romanos.
Curianus kept begging me to make over my share to him, and to help him by the precedent; the same share, by a secret understanding, he promised would be kept safe for me.
Curianus orabat, ut sibi donarem portionem meam seque praeiudicio iuvarem; eandem tacita conventione salvam mihi pollicebatur.
I answered that it did not suit my character to do one thing openly and another in secret; further, that it was not quite honorable to make a gift to a man both rich and childless; in sum, that it would not help him if I made him a gift, but would help him if I withdrew my claim — and that I was ready to withdraw it, if it became clear to me that he had been unjustly disinherited.
Respondebam non convenire moribus meis aliud palam aliud agere secreto; praeterea non esse satis honestum donare et locupleti et orbo; in summa non profuturum ei si donassem, profuturum si cessissem, esse autem me paratum cedere si inique exheredatum mihi liqueret.
To this he said: "I beg you to look into it." After hesitating a little, "I will," I said; "for I see no reason to think myself a smaller man than I seem to you. But bear in mind from this moment that I shall not lack the firmness to pronounce for your mother, if good faith so leads me."
Ad hoc ille: ’Rogo cognoscas.’ Cunctatus paulum ’Faciam’ inquam; ’neque enim video cur ipse me minorem putem, quam tibi videor. Sed iam nunc memento non defuturam mihi constantiam, si ita fides duxerit, secundum matrem tuam pronuntiandi.’
"As you will," he said; "for you will will what is most just." I called into council the two men our state then held most distinguished, Corellius and Frontinus.
’Ut voles’ ait; ’voles enim quod aequissimum.’ Adhibui in consilium duos quos tunc civitas nostra spectatissimos habuit, Corellium et Frontinum.
Hemmed in by them, I sat in my chamber. Curianus said what he thought made his case. I answered in few words — for no one else was present to guard the dead woman’s honor — then withdrew, and on my council’s verdict said: "It appears, Curianus, that your mother had just cause to be angry with you." After this he joined the others in entering a centumviral suit, but did not enter one against me.
His circumdatus in cubiculo meo sedi. Dixit Curianus quae pro se putabat. Respondi paucis ego - neque enim aderat alius, qui defunctae pudorem tueretur -, deinde secessi, et ex consilii sententia ’Videtur’ inquam, ’Curiane, mater tua iustas habuisse causas irascendi tibi.’ Post hoc ille cum ceteris subscripsit centumvirale iudicium, non subscripsit mecum.
The day of the trial drew near; my coheirs wished to settle and compromise, not from distrust of the case, but from fear of the times. They were afraid — as they saw had befallen many — that out of a centumviral suit they might come away defendants on a capital charge.
Appetebat iudicii dies; coheredes mei componere et transigere cupiebant non diffidentia causae, sed metu temporum. Verebantur quod videbant multis accidisse, ne ex centumvirali iudicio capitis rei exirent.
And there were some among them against whom both friendship with Gratilla and friendship with Rusticus could be charged.
Et erant quidam in illis, quibus obici et Gratillae amicitia et Rustici posset.
They ask me to speak with Curianus. We met in the temple of Concord. There I said: "If your mother had made you heir to a quarter, could you complain? What if she had made you sole heir, but had so drained the estate with legacies that no more than a quarter remained with you? It ought, then, to be enough for you, disinherited by your mother, to receive a quarter from her heirs — which, all the same, I will increase.
Rogant me ut cum Curiano loquar. Convenimus in aedem Concordiae. Ibi ego ’Si mater’ inquam ’te ex parte quarta scripsisset heredem, num queri posses? Quid si heredem quidem instituisset ex asse, sed legatis ita exhausisset ut non amplius apud te quam quarta remaneret? Igitur sufficere tibi debet, si exheredatus a matre quartam partem ab heredibus eius accipias, quam tamen ego augebo.
You know you did not sue me, and that two years have now passed, and that I have acquired everything by usucapion. But so that my coheirs may find you more tractable, and so that your respect for me may have cost you nothing, I offer, for my own share, just as much." I reaped the fruit not only of a good conscience but of good repute as well.
Scis te non subscripsisse mecum, et iam biennium transisse omniaque me usu cepisse. Sed ut te coheredes mei tractabiliorem experiantur, utque tibi nihil abstulerit reverentia mei, offero pro mea parte tantundem.’ Tuli fructum non conscientiae modo verum etiam famae.
So this Curianus left me a legacy, and stamped with a notable mark of honor a deed of mine that — unless perhaps I flatter myself — was of the antique stamp.
Ille ergo Curianus legatum mihi reliquit et factum meum, nisi forte blandior mihi antiquum, notabili honore signavit.
I have written this to you because, of everything that either delights or troubles me, I am accustomed to speak with you no differently than with myself; and then because I thought it hard to cheat you, who love me so dearly, of the pleasure I was taking myself.
Haec tibi scripsi, quia de omnibus quae me vel delectant vel angunt, non aliter tecum quam mecum loqui soleo; deinde quod durum existimabam, te amantissimum mei fraudare voluptate quam ipse capiebam.
For I am not so wise that it makes no difference to me whether to the things I believe I have done honorably there is added a certain testimony, and a kind of reward. Farewell.
Neque enim sum tam sapiens ut nihil mea intersit, an iis quae honeste fecisse me credo, testificatio quaedam et quasi praemium accedat. Vale.
I have received the finest thrushes, against which I can lay no equal counter — neither from the city’s plenty, here at my Laurentine place, nor from the sea, with its storms so wild.
Accepi pulcherrimos turdos, cum quibus parem calculum ponere nec urbis copiis ex Laurentino nec maris tam turbidis tempestatibus possum.
So you will get a letter barren and frankly thankless, not even imitating the cleverness of Diomedes in the exchange of a gift. But — such is your easy good nature — you will pardon it the more readily for the very reason that it confesses it deserves no pardon. Farewell.
Recipies ergo epistulas steriles et simpliciter ingratas, ac ne illam quidem sollertiam Diomedis in permutando munere imitantes. Sed, quae facilitas tua, hoc magis dabis veniam, quod se non mereri fatentur. Vale.
While very many of your good offices are welcome and pleasant to me, this above all: that you did not think I should be kept in the dark — that at your house there had been long and copious talk about my little verses, and that it had run on the further for the diversity of judgments, and that some had even come forward who, while they did not condemn the writings themselves, yet reproached me, in friendly and frank fashion, for writing and reciting such things.
Cum plurima officia tua mihi grata et iucunda sunt, tum vel maxime quod me celandum non putasti, fuisse apud te de versiculis meis multum copiosumque sermonem, eumque diversitate iudiciorum longius processisse, exstitisse etiam quosdam, qui scripta quidem ipsa non improbarent, me tamen amice simpliciterque reprehenderent, quod haec scriberem recitaremque.
To whom I answer thus — to make my fault the greater: I do sometimes write verses too little severe, I do; for I both hear comedies and watch mimes and read the lyric poets and understand the Sotadics; and now and then, besides, I laugh, I joke, I play — and, to embrace in brief every kind of harmless relaxation, I am a man.
Quibus ego, ut augeam meam culpam, ita respondeo: facio non numquam versiculos severos parum, facio; nam et comoedias audio et specto mimos et lyricos lego et Sotadicos intellego; aliquando praeterea rideo iocor ludo, utque omnia innoxiae remissionis genera breviter amplectar, homo sum.
Nor indeed do I take it ill that this is the estimate of my character — that those who do not know that the most learned, the most grave, the most upright of men have written such things again and again should wonder that I write them.
Nec vero moleste fero hanc esse de moribus meis existimationem, ut qui nesciunt talia doctissimos gravissimos sanctissimos homines scriptitasse, me scribere mirentur.
But from those who know what authors, and how great, I follow, I am confident I can easily obtain leave to err — but to err in their company, men whose not only serious works but even their play it is praiseworthy to reproduce.
Ab illis autem quibus notum est, quos quantosque auctores sequar, facile impetrari posse confido, ut errare me sed cum illis sinant, quorum non seria modo verum etiam lusus exprimere laudabile est.
Am I to fear — I will name no one living, lest I fall into some appearance of flattery — but am I to fear that what became Marcus Tullius, Gaius Calvus, Asinius Pollio, Marcus Messala, Quintus Hortensius, Marcus Brutus, Lucius Sulla, Quintus Catulus, Quintus Scaevola, Servius Sulpicius, Varro, Torquatus — nay, the Torquati — Gaius Memmius, Lentulus Gaetulicus, Annaeus Seneca, and most recently Verginius Rufus, and — if private examples do not suffice — the deified Julius, the deified Augustus, the deified Nerva, and Tiberius Caesar, does not sufficiently become me?
An ego verear - neminem viventium, ne quam in speciem adulationis incidam, nominabo -, sed ego verear ne me non satis deceat, quod decuit M. Tullium, C. Calvum, Asinium Pollionem, M. Messalam, Q. Hortensium, M. Brutum, L. Sullam, Q. Catulum, Q. Scaevolam, Servium Sulpicium, Varronem, Torquatum, immo Torquatos, C. Memmium, Lentulum Gaetulicum, Annaeum Senecam et proxime Verginium Rufum et, si non sufficiunt exempla privata, Divum Iulium, Divum Augustum, Divum Nervam, Tiberium Caesarem?
Nero I pass over — though I know that things which are sometimes done even by the wicked are not corrupted into something worse, but remain honorable, being more often done by the good. Among whom, indeed, are to be reckoned, above all, Publius Vergil, Cornelius Nepos, and earlier still Accius and Ennius. These, to be sure, were not senators; but purity of character does not differ with the orders.
Neronem enim transeo, quamvis sciam non corrumpi in deterius quae aliquando etiam a malis, sed honesta manere quae saepius a bonis fiunt. Inter quos vel praecipue numerandus est P. Vergilius, Cornelius Nepos et prius Accius Enniusque. Non quidem hi senatores, sed sanctitas morum non distat ordinibus.
Yet I recite — which whether they did, I do not know. True; but they could be content with their own judgment, whereas my self-assurance is too modest to think a thing fully finished merely because it is approved by me.
Recito tamen, quod illi an fecerint nescio. Etiam: sed illi iudicio suo poterant esse contenti, mihi modestior constantia est quam ut satis absolutum putem, quod a me probetur.
So I follow these reasons for reciting: first, that the one who recites bends himself somewhat more keenly to his own writings, out of respect for his hearers; next, that on the points where he is in doubt, he decides as if by a council’s verdict.
Itaque has recitandi causas sequor, primum quod ipse qui recitat aliquanto acrius scriptis suis auditorum reverentia intendit; deinde quod de quibus dubitat, quasi ex consilii sententia statuit.
He is also admonished of many things by many people; and even if he is not admonished, he discerns what each one feels from the face, the eyes, a nod, a hand, a murmur, a silence — signs plain enough to mark off judgment from mere courtesy.
Multa etiam multis admonetur, et si non admoneatur, quid quisque sentiat perspicit ex vultu oculis nutu manu murmure silentio; quae satis apertis notis iudicium ab humanitate discernunt.
And so, if any of those who were present should happen to take the trouble to read those same pieces, he will perceive that I have either altered or omitted certain things — perhaps even in accordance with his own judgment, though he himself said nothing to me.
Atque adeo si cui forte eorum qui interfuerunt curae fuerit eadem illa legere, intelleget me quaedam aut commutasse aut praeterisse, fortasse etiam ex suo iudicio, quamvis ipse nihil dixerit mihi.
And I argue all this as though I had summoned the public into a lecture-hall, and not friends into my chamber — friends whom to have in numbers has been a glory to many, a reproach to none. Farewell.
Atque haec ita disputo quasi populum in auditorium, non in cubiculum amicos advocarim, quos plures habere multis gloriosum, reprehensioni nemini fuit. Vale.
A small matter, but the beginning of one not small. Sollers, a man of praetorian rank, petitioned the senate to be allowed to set up a market on his own lands. The deputies of the Vicetines spoke against it; Tuscilius Nominatus appeared for them.
Res parva, sed initium non parvae. Vir praetorius Sollers a senatu periit, ut sibi instituere nundinas in agris suis permitteretur. Contra dixerunt legati Vicetinorum; adfuit Tuscilius Nominatus.
The case was adjourned. At another session the Vicetines came in without an advocate, and said they had been deceived — whether a slip of the tongue, or because they really thought so. Asked by the praetor Nepos whom they had briefed, they answered: the same man as before. Asked whether he had then appeared free of charge, they answered: for six thousand sesterces; whether they had given him anything a second time, they said: a thousand denarii. Nepos demanded that Nominatus be brought in.
Dilata causa est. Alio senatu Vicetini sine advocato intraverunt, dixerunt se deceptos, lapsine verbo, an quia ita sentiebant. Interrogati a Nepote praetore, quem docuissent, responderunt quem prius. Interrogati an tunc gratis adfuisset, responderunt sex milibus nummum; an rursus aliquid dedissent, dixerunt mille denarios. Nepos postulavit ut Nominatus induceretur.
So far that day. But, as far as I can divine, the matter will go further. For most things, once merely touched and at all set in motion, creep very widely. I have pricked up your ears.
Hactenus illo die. Sed quantum auguror longius res procedet. Nam pleraque tacta tantum et omnino commota latissime serpunt. Erexi aures tuas.
How long, now, you must beg, and how coaxingly, to learn the rest! — unless, indeed, for this very reason you come to Rome beforehand, and would rather be a spectator than a reader. Farewell.
Quam diu nunc oportet, quam blande roges, ut reliqua cognoscas! si tamen non ante ob haec ipsa veneris Romam, spectatorque malueris esse quam lector. Vale.
It has been reported to me that Gaius Fannius has died; and the news has overwhelmed me with heavy grief, first because I loved the man — refined, eloquent — and then because I used to rely on his judgment. For he was keen by nature, practiced by use, and most ready with the truth.
Nuntiatum mihi C. Fannium decessisse; qui nuntius me gravi dolore confudit, primum quod amavi hominem elegantem disertum, deinde quod iudicio eius uti solebam. Erat enim acutus natura, usu exercitatus, veritate promptissimus.
Beyond all that, his own fate distresses me: he died under an old will, passed over those he loved most, and favored those with whom he was rather out of sorts. But this, somehow or other, is bearable; the heavier blow is that he left a most beautiful work unfinished.
Angit me super ista casus ipsius: decessit veteri testamento, omisit quos maxime diligebat, prosecutus est quibus offensior erat. Sed hoc utcumque tolerabile; gravius illud, quod pulcherrimum opus imperfectum reliquit.
For although he was pulled this way and that by the pleading of cases, he was nonetheless writing the ends of those put to death or banished by Nero, and had already finished three books — subtle, careful, and Latin, midway between conversation and history — and he longed all the more to complete the rest, the more often these were read and read again.
Quamvis enim agendis causis distringeretur, scribebat tamen exitus occisorum aut relegatorum a Nerone et iam tres libros absolverat subtiles et diligentes et Latinos atque inter sermonem historiamque medios, ac tanto magis reliquos perficere cupiebat, quanto frequentius hi lectitabantur.
To me the death of those who are preparing something immortal always seems bitter and untimely. For those who, given over to pleasures, live as it were from day to day, every day bring their reasons for living to an end; but those who think of posterity, and extend their own memory by their works — for these no death is not sudden, since it always breaks off something just begun.
Mihi autem videtur acerba semper et immatura mors eorum, qui immortale aliquid parant. Nam qui voluptatibus dediti quasi in diem vivunt, vivendi causas cotidie finiunt; qui vero posteros cogitant, et memoriam sui operibus extendunt, his nulla mors non repentina est, ut quae semper incohatum aliquid abrumpat.
Gaius Fannius, indeed, long beforehand had a foreboding of what happened. In his rest one night he seemed to himself to be lying on his little couch, composed in the posture of a man at study, with his book-case before him — as was his habit; then he imagined that Nero had come, had settled himself on the couch, had taken out the first book that Fannius had published about his crimes, and had unrolled it to the end; that he had done the same with the second and the third, and then had gone away.
Gaius quidem Fannius, quod accidit, multo ante praesensit. Visus est sibi per nocturnam quietem iacere in lectulo suo compositus in habitum studentis, habere ante se scrinium - ita solebat -; mox imaginatus est venisse Neronem, in toro resedisse, prompsisse primum librum quem de sceleribus eius ediderat, cumque ad extremum revolvisse; idem in secundo ac tertio fecisse, tunc abisse.
He took fright, and interpreted it thus: that the end of his own writing would be the same as Nero’s reading had been — and the same it was.
Expavit et sic interpretatus est, tamquam idem sibi futurus esset scribendi finis, qui fuisset illi legendi: et fuit idem.
Recalling this, pity steals over me — how much wakefulness, how much labor he spent in vain. My own mortality, my own writings rise up before my mind. Nor do I doubt that you too are frightened by the same thought, for those works you have in hand.
Quod me recordantem miseratio subit, quantum vigiliarum quantum laboris exhauserit frustra. Occursant animo mea mortalitas mea scripta. Nec dubito te quoque eadem cogitatione terreri, pro istis quae inter manus habes.
Therefore, while life holds out, let us strive that death may find as little as possible for it to blot out. Farewell.
Proinde, dum suppetit vita, enitamur ut mors quam paucissima quae abolere possit inveniat. Vale.
I have loved your care and your concern — that, having heard I meant to make for my Tuscan estate in the summer, you urged me not to, thinking the place unhealthy.
Amavi curam et sollicitudinem tuam, quod cum audisses me aestate Tuscos meos petiturum, ne facerem suasisti, dum putas insalubres.
The Tuscan coast that stretches along the shore is indeed heavy and pestilent; but these lands have drawn far back from the sea — nay, they lie at the foot of the Apennine, the most healthful of mountains.
Est sane gravis et pestilens ora Tuscorum, quae per litus extenditur; sed hi procul a mari recesserunt, quin etiam Appennino saluberrimo montium subiacent.
And indeed, that you may lay aside all fear on my account, hear the mildness of the climate, the lie of the country, the charm of the villa — things that will be pleasant for you to hear and for me to tell.
Atque adeo ut omnem pro me metum ponas, accipe temperiem caeli regionis situm villae amoenitatem, quae et tibi auditu et mihi relatu iucunda erunt.
The climate in winter is cold and frosty: myrtles, olives, and whatever else delights in steady warmth it rejects and spits back; the laurel, though, it suffers, and even brings forth most glossy — sometimes, but no oftener than near our city, it kills it.
Caelum est hieme frigidum et gelidum; myrtos oleas quaeque alia assiduo tepore laetantur, aspernatur ac respuit; laurum tamen patitur atque etiam nitidissimam profert, interdum sed non saepius quam sub urbe nostra necat.
The mildness of the summer is wonderful: the air is always stirred by some breath, yet has breezes more often than winds.
Aestatis mira clementia: semper aer spiritu aliquo movetur, frequentius tamen auras quam ventos habet.
Hence many old men: you may see the grandfathers and great-grandfathers of young men already grown, you may hear old tales and the talk of forefathers, and, when you have come there, you would think yourself born into another age.
Hinc senes multi: videas avos proavosque iam iuvenum, audias fabulas veteres sermonesque maiorum, cumque veneris illo putes alio te saeculo natum.
The shape of the country is most beautiful. Imagine some vast amphitheater, and such as Nature alone could fashion. A broad and spreading plain is girdled by mountains, and the mountains, at their summits, bear tall and ancient groves.
Regionis forma pulcherrima. Imaginare amphitheatrum aliquod immensum, et quale sola rerum natura possit effingere. Lata et diffusa planities montibus cingitur, montes summa sui parte procera nemora et antiqua habent.
There the hunting is plentiful and varied. Then woods fit for felling come down with the mountain itself. Among these are rich and earthy hills — for nowhere does rock readily meet you, even if you seek it — which yield nothing in fertility to the most level fields, and ripen a rich harvest, only later, but no less full.
Frequens ibi et varia venatio. Inde caeduae silvae cum ipso monte descendunt. Has inter pingues terrenique colles - neque enim facile usquam saxum etiam si quaeratur occurrit - planissimis campis fertilitate non cedunt, opimamque messem serius tantum, sed non minus percoquunt.
Below these, vineyards stretch out along every flank, and weave one face far and wide; and from their edge, at the lowest part, as if from a border, the planted trees spring up.
Sub his per latus omne vineae porriguntur, unamque faciem longe lateque contexunt; quarum a fine imoque quasi margine arbusta nascuntur.
Then meadows and fields — fields that none but huge oxen and the stoutest plows break through: the most tenacious soil, when first it is cut, rises up in such great clods that it is subdued only at the ninth furrow.
Prata inde campique, campi quos non nisi, ingentes boves et fortissima aratra perfringunt: tantis glaebis tenacissimum solum cum primum prosecatur assurgit, ut nono demum sulco perdometur.
The meadows, flowery and jeweled, nourish clover and other grasses ever tender and soft and as if new. For all is fed by unfailing streams; yet where the water is most, there is no marsh, because the sloping ground pours out into the Tiber whatever moisture it has taken in and not absorbed.
Prata florida et gemmea trifolium aliasque herbas teneras semper et molles et quasi novas alunt. Cuncta enim perennibus rivis nutriuntur; sed ubi aquae plurimum, palus nulla, quia devexa terra, quidquid liquoris accepit nec absorbuit, effundit in Tiberim.
The Tiber cuts through the midst of the fields, bears ships, and carries down all the produce to the city — in winter only, and in spring; in summer it sinks, and abandons in its parched bed the name of a mighty river, then in autumn resumes it.
Medios ille agros secat navium patiens omnesque fruges devehit in urbem, hieme dumtaxat et vere; aestate summittitur immensique fluminis nomen arenti alveo deserit, autumno resumit.
You will take great pleasure, if you look out upon this lie of the land from the mountain. For you will seem to behold, not lands, but some scene painted to a rare beauty: by such variety, such design, wherever the eyes have lit, they will be refreshed.
Magnam capies voluptatem, si hunc regionis situm ex monte prospexeris. Neque enim terras tibi sed formam aliquam ad eximiam pulchritudinem pictam videberis cernere: ea varietate, ea descriptione, quocumque inciderint oculi, reficientur.
The villa, set at the foot of a hill, looks out as if from the top: so lightly and gradually does it rise, the slope deceiving, that, when you do not think you are climbing, you feel you have climbed. Behind it lies the Apennine, but at a distance; from it the villa receives breezes, however clear and calm the day, yet not sharp and excessive, but wearied and broken by the very space they cross.
Villa in colle imo sita prospicit quasi ex summo: ita leviter et sensim clivo fallente consurgit, ut cum ascendere te non putes, sentias ascendisse. A tergo Appenninum, sed longius habet; accipit ab hoc auras quamlibet sereno et placido die, non tamen acres et immodicas, sed spatio ipso lassas et infractas.
For the greater part it faces south, and from the sixth hour invites, as it were, the summer sun — the winter sun somewhat earlier — into a colonnade broad and, for its proportion, long. In this are many chambers, and an atrium too, after the manner of the ancients.
Magna sui parte meridiem spectat aestivumque solem ab hora sexta, hibernum aliquanto maturius quasi invitat, in porticum latam et pro modo longam. Multa in hae membra, atrium etiam ex more veterum.
Before the colonnade is a terrace marked out into many figures and cut into shape with box; from it a bank slopes gently down, on which the box has traced the figures of beasts facing one another; on the level, acanthus, soft and — I might almost say — liquid.
Ante porticum xystus in plurimas species distinctus concisusque buxo; demissus inde pronusque pulvinus, cui bestiarum effigies invicem adversas buxus inscripsit; acanthus in plano, mollis et paene dixerim liquidus.
Around this runs a walk enclosed by greenery clipped close and in various shapes; beyond these a drive in the form of a circus, which goes round box of many shapes and little trees kept low by the hand. The whole is fenced with a wall: this the box, rising in tiers, covers and conceals.
Ambit hunc ambulatio pressis varieque tonsis viridibus inclusa; ab his gestatio in modum circi, quae buxum multiformem humilesque et retentas manu arbusculas circumit. Omnia maceria muniuntur: hanc gradata buxus operit et subtrahit.
Then a meadow, no less worth seeing for its nature than those upper parts for their art; then fields beyond, and many other meadows and orchards.
Pratum inde non minus natura quam superiora illa arte visendum; campi deinde porro multaque alia prata et arbusta.
From the head of the colonnade a dining-room runs out; through its folding doors it sees the end of the terrace, and straightway the meadow, and much of the countryside; through its windows it looks, on this side, at the flank of the terrace and at the part of the villa that juts out, on that, at the grove and the leafy crowns of the neighboring hippodrome.
A capite porticus triclinium excurrit; valvis xystum desinentem et protinus pratum multumque ruris videt, fenestris hac latus xysti et quod prosilit villae, hac adiacentis hippodromi nemus comasque prospectat.
Opposite roughly the middle of the colonnade a suite withdraws a little, and encloses a small court shaded by four plane-trees. Among these, water brims over from a marble basin, and refreshes the surrounding plane-trees, and the ground beneath them, with a gentle sprinkling.
Contra mediam fere porticum diaeta paulum recedit, cingit areolam, quae quattuor platanis inumbratur. Inter has marmoreo labro aqua exundat circumiectasque platanos et subiecta platanis leni aspergine fovet.
In this suite is a bedchamber that shuts out the day, the shouting, the noise, and joined to it the everyday dining-room for friends: it looks upon that little court, upon the wing of the colonnade, and upon all the same things the colonnade looks upon.
Est in hac diaeta dormitorium cubiculum quod diem clamorem sonum excludit, iunctaque ei cotidiana amicorumque cenatio: areolam illam, porticus alam eademque omnia quae porticus adspicit.
There is another chamber too, green and shady from the nearest plane-tree, dressed with marble up to the dado; and a painting — imitating boughs, and birds perched on the boughs — yields nothing in charm to the marble.
Est et aliud cubiculum a proxima platano viride et umbrosum, marmore excultum podio tenus, nec cedit gratiae marmoris ramos insidentesque ramis aves imitata pictura.
In it a little fountain, and in the fountain a bowl; around it several small pipes mingle a most delightful murmur. At the corner of the colonnade a very spacious chamber faces the dining-room; through some windows it looks upon the terrace, through others down upon the meadow, but in front upon a fish-pond, which serves the windows and lies beneath them, pleasant both to ear and eye;
Fonticulus in hoc, in fonte crater; circa sipunculi plures miscent iucundissimum murmur. In cornu porticus amplissimum cubiculum triclinio occurrit; aliis fenestris xystum, aliis despicit pratum, sed ante piscinam, quae fenestris servit ac subiacet, strepitu visuque iucunda;
for water, leaping down from a height and caught by the marble, turns white. The same chamber is warmest in winter, because it is bathed in fullest sun.
nam ex edito desiliens aqua suscepta marmore albescit. Idem cubiculum hieme tepidissimum, quia plurimo sole perfunditur.
A furnace-room adjoins, and, if the day is cloudy, by the heat let in supplies the place of the sun. Next, the broad and cheerful undressing-room of the bath; then the cold room receives you, in which is a basin large and shaded. If you wish to swim more freely, or in warmer water, there is a pool in the court, and a well close by, from which you may brace yourself again, should the warmth grow tedious.
Cohaeret hypocauston et, si dies nubilus, immisso vapore solis vicem supplet. Inde apodyterium balinei laxum et hilare excipit cella frigidaria, in qua baptisterium amplum atque opacum. Si natare latius aut tepidius velis, in area piscina est, in proximo puteus, ex quo possis rursus astringi, si paeniteat teporis.
To the cold room is joined a middle one, on which the sun is most kindly present; to the hot room more so, for it juts forward. In this are three descents — two in the sun, the third farther from the sun, but not farther from the light.
Frigidariae cellae conectitur media, cui sol benignissime praesto est; caldariae magis, prominet enim. In hac tres descensiones, duae in sole, tertia a sole longius, a luce non longius.
Above the undressing-room is set a ball-court, which takes several kinds of exercise and several rings of players. Not far from the bath are stairs that lead to a covered gallery, and first to three suites. Of these, one overhangs that little court in which are the four plane-trees, another the meadow, another the vineyards, and so has different quarters of the sky, and different prospects.
Apodyterio superpositum est sphaeristerium, quod plura genera exercitationis pluresque circulos capit. Non procul a balineo scalae, quae in cryptoporticum ferunt prius ad diaetas tres. Harum alia arcolae illi, in qua platani quattuor, alia prato, alia vineis imminet diversasque caeli partes ut prospectus habet.
At the top of the gallery is a chamber cut out of the gallery itself, which gazes on the hippodrome, the vineyards, the mountains. Joined to it is a chamber that meets the sun, especially the winter sun. From here rises a suite that links the hippodrome to the villa. This is the look, this the use, of the front.
In summa cryptoporticu cubiculum ex ipsa cryptoporticu excisum, quod hippodromum vineas montes intuetur. Iungitur cubiculum obvium soli, maxime hiberno. Hinc oritur diaeta, quae villae hippodromum adnectit. Haec facies, hic usus a fronte.
On the side, a summer gallery, set on a height, which seems not to look upon the vineyards but to touch them. In the middle a dining-room receives the most healthful breath from the Apennine valleys; behind, through very wide windows, it takes in the vineyards, and through its doors the vineyards likewise, but, as it were, by way of the gallery.
A latere aestiva cryptoporticus in edito posita, quae non adspicere vineas sed tangere videtur. In media triclinium saluberrimum afflatum ex Appenninis vallibus recipit; post latissimis fenestris vineas, valvis aeque vineas sed per cryptoporticum quasi admittit.
On the side of the dining-room that lacks windows, stairs supply by a more private circuit the things a banquet needs. At the end a chamber, to which the gallery itself affords a prospect no less pleasant than the vineyards do. Below lies a gallery like an underground one; in summer it stays stiff with the cold shut up in it, and, content with its own air, neither longs for breezes nor lets them in.
A latere triclinii quod fenestris caret, scalae convivio utilia secretiore ambitu suggerunt. In fine cubiculum, cui non minus iucundum prospectum cryptoporticus ipsa quam vineae praebent. Subest cryptoporticus subterraneae similis; aestate incluso frigore riget contentaque acre suo nec desiderat auras nec admittit.
Behind both galleries, where the dining-room ends, begins a colonnade — wintry before midday, summery when the day declines. By this two suites are reached, in one of which are four chambers, in the other three, which, as the sun goes round, enjoy either sun or shade.
Post utramque cryptoporticum, unde triclinium desinit, incipit porticus ante medium diem hiberna, inclinato die aestiva. Hac adeuntur diaetae duae, quarum in altera cubicula quattuor, altera tria ut circumit sol aut sole utuntur aut umbra.
This arrangement and charm of the buildings the hippodrome far, far surpasses. Open in the middle, it offers itself whole at once to the eyes of those who enter, and is encircled by plane-trees; these are clothed in ivy, and, as their tops are green with their own leaves, so their lower parts with another’s. The ivy wanders over trunk and boughs and, by its passage, couples the neighboring plane-trees. Between these box is set; the outer box the laurel surrounds, and adds its own shade to the plane-trees’.
Hanc dispositionem amoenitatemque tectorum longe longeque praecedit hippodromus. Medius patescit statimque intrantium oculis totus offertur, platanis circumitur; illae hedera vestiuntur utque summae suis ita imae alienis frondibus virent. Hedera truncum et ramos pererrat vicinasque platanos transitu suo copulat. Has buxus interiacet; exteriores buxos circumvenit laurus, umbraeque platanorum suam confert.
This straight course of the hippodrome is broken at its far end into a semicircle, and changes its aspect: it is ringed and roofed with cypresses, darker and blacker for their denser shade; while in its inner rings — for there are several — it takes in the purest daylight.
Rectus hic hippodromi limes in extrema parte hemicyclio frangitur mutatque faciem: cupressis ambitur et tegitur, densiore umbra opacior nigriorque; interioribus circulis - sunt enim plures - purissimum diem recipit.
There too it brings forth roses, and tempers the coolness of the shade with a not unwelcome sun. That varied and manifold curve once ended, you are given back to the straight course — and not to one alone, for several paths are divided off by box set between them.
Inde etiam rosas effert, umbrarumque frigus non ingrato sole distinguit. Finito vario illo multiplicique curvamine recto limiti redditur nec huic uni, nam viae plures intercedentibus buxis dividuntur.
Here a little lawn, there the box itself comes in, traced into a thousand shapes, sometimes letters that spell now the master’s name, now the gardener’s: in alternation little obelisks rise, in alternation fruit-trees are set in, and amid this most polished work a sudden imitation, as it were, of country brought in. The middle space is adorned on either side with shorter plane-trees.
Alibi pratulum, alibi ipsa buxus intervenit in formas mille descripta, litteras interdum, quae modo nomen domini dicunt modo artificis: alternis metulae surgunt, alternis inserta sunt poma, et in opere urbanissimo subita velut illati ruris imitatio. Medium spatium brevioribus utrimque platanis adornatur.
Behind these, acanthus on either side, glossy and winding, then more figures and more names. At the head a curved couch of white marble is sheltered by a vine; the vine four little columns of Carystian marble support. From the couch water, as though pressed out by the weight of those reclining, flows from small pipes, is caught in hollowed stone, held in by slender marble, and so secretly regulated that it fills the basin yet never overflows.
Post has acanthus hinc inde lubricus et flexuosus, deinde plures figurae pluraque nomina. In capite stibadium candido marmore vite protegitur; vitem quattuor columellae Carystiae subeunt. Ex stibadio aqua velut expressa cubantium pondere sipunculis effluit, cavato lapide suscipitur, gracili marmore continetur atque ita occulte temperatur, ut impleat nec redundet.
The hors d’oeuvres and the heavier courses are set on the rim, the lighter float round in the shapes of little boats and birds. Opposite, a fountain throws up water and takes it back; for, driven on high, it falls back upon itself, and, by the joined openings, is at once swallowed up and lifted again. Facing the couch, a chamber gives back to the couch as much adornment as it receives from it.
Gustatorium graviorque cena margini imponitur, levior naucularum et avium figuris innatans circumit. Contra fons egerit aquam et recipit; nam expulsa in altum in se cadit iunctisque hiatibus et absorbetur et tollitur. E regione stibadii adversum cubiculum tantum stibadio reddit ornatus, quantum accipit ab illo.
It shines with marble, juts out through its doors into the greenery and goes forth, and through upper and lower windows looks up at and down upon other greenery. Then a little alcove draws back, as it were into the same chamber and yet another. Here a couch, and on every side windows, and yet the light is dim, the shade pressing upon it.
Marmore splendet, valvis in viridia prominet et exit, alia viridia superioribus inferioribusque fenestris suspicit despicitque. Mox zothecula refugit quasi in cubiculum idem atque aliud. Lectus hic et undique fenestrae, et tamen lumen obscurum umbra premente.
For a most luxuriant vine strains and climbs over the whole roof to the ridge. You might lie there no otherwise than in a grove — only that, as in a grove, you would not feel the rain.
Nam laetissima vitis per omne tectum in culmen nititur et ascendit. Non secus ibi quam in nemore iaceas, imbrem tantum tamquam in nemore non sentias.
Here too a spring is born, and at once withdrawn. In several places marble seats are set, which, as does the chamber itself, relieve those wearied by walking. Little fountains lie beside the seats; throughout the whole hippodrome channels, led in, plash, and follow wherever the hand has guided them: by these now those plots of green, now these, sometimes all together, are washed.
Hic quoque fons nascitur simulque subducitur. Sunt locis pluribus disposita sedilia e marmore, quae ambulatione fessos ut cubiculum ipsum iuvant. Fonticuli sedilibus adiacent; per totum hippodromum inducti strepunt rivi, et qua manus duxit sequuntur: his nunc illa viridia, nunc haec, interdum simul omnia lavantur.
I should long since have held back, for fear of seeming over-nice, had I not set out to go round every corner with you in this letter. For I was not afraid that it would be wearisome to you in the reading, what would not have been so in the seeing — especially since you can pause now and then, if you like, and, laying the letter down, as it were sit down to rest as often as you please. Besides, I have indulged my love; for I love what, for the most part, I myself began, or, once begun, brought to perfection.
Vitassem iam dudum ne viderer argutior, nisi proposuissem omnes angulos tecum epistula circumire. Neque enim verebar ne laboriosum esset legenti tibi, quod visenti non fuisset, praesertim cum interquiescere, si liberet, depositaque epistula quasi residere saepius posses. Praeterea indulsi amori meo; amo enim, quae maxima ex parte ipse incohavi aut incohata percolui.
In sum — for why should I not open to you either my judgment or my error? — I hold it the first duty of a writer to read his own title, and again and again to ask himself what he set out to write, and to know that, if he dwells on his subject, he is not long, but longest if he fetches in and drags along something extraneous.
In summa - cur enim non aperiam tibi vel iudicium meum vel errorem? - primum ego officium scriptoris existimo, titulum suum legat atque identidem interroget se quid coeperit scribere, sciatque si materiae immoratur non esse longum, longissimum si aliquid accersit atque attrahit.
You see in how many verses Homer, in how many Vergil describes — the one the arms of Achilles, the other the arms of Aeneas; yet each is brief, because he does what he set out to do. You see how Aratus tracks down and gathers even the tiniest stars; yet he keeps measure. For this is no digression of his, but the work itself.
Vides quot versibus Homerus, quot Vergilius arma hic Aeneae Achillis ille describat; brevis tamen uterque est quia facit quod instituit. Vides ut Aratus minutissima etiam sidera consectetur et colligat; modum tamen servat. Non enim excursus hic eius, sed opus ipsum est.
Just so do we — to "compare small things with great" — when we try to set the whole villa before your eyes: if we say nothing brought in and, as it were, off the path, it is not the letter that describes that is large, but the villa that is described. But back to where I began, lest by my own law I be justly reproached, should I prove too long in this matter into which I have strayed.
Similiter nos ut ’parva magnis’, cum totam villam oculis tuis subicere conamur, si nihil inductum et quasi devium loquimur, non epistula quae describit sed villa quae describitur magna est. Verum illuc unde coepi, ne secundum legem meam iure reprendar, si longior fuero in hoc in quod excessi.
You have the reasons why I prefer my Tuscan estate to those at Tusculum, Tibur, and Praeneste. For, beyond what I have related, the leisure there is deeper and richer and so more free from care: no necessity of the toga, no summoner from next door, all things peaceful and at rest — which itself, like the purer sky and the clearer air, is added to the healthfulness of the place.
Habes causas cur ego Tuscos meos Tusculanis Tiburtinis Praenestinisque praeponam. Nam super illa quae rettuli, altius ibi otium et pinguius eoque securius: nulla necessitas togae, nemo accersitor ex proximo, placida omnia et quiescentia, quod ipsum salubritati regionis ut purius caelum, ut aer liquidior accedit.
There I am at my strongest in mind and in body. For I exercise my mind with study, my body with hunting. My household, too, nowhere thrive more healthfully; certainly up to now I have lost no one there, of all I had brought out with me — be it said with leave to say it. Only may the gods, for the time to come, keep this joy, this glory, for the place! Farewell.
Ibi animo, ibi corpore maxime valeo. Nam studiis animum, venatu corpus exerceo. Mei quoque nusquam salubrius degunt; usque adhuc certe neminem ex iis quos eduxeram mecum, - venia sit dicto - ibi amisi. Di modo in posterum hoc mihi gaudium, hanc gloriam loco servent! Vale.
It is established that a community can neither be made an heir nor take a legacy by preference; Saturninus, however, who left us his heirs, gave a quarter to our community, and then, in place of the quarter, a preferential legacy of four hundred thousand sesterces. If you look to the law, this is void; if to the dead man’s will, it is valid and firm.
Nec heredem institui nec praecipere posse rem publicam constat; Saturninus autem, qui nos reliquit heredes, quadrantem rei publicae nostrae, deinde pro quadrante praeceptionem quadringentorum milium dedit. Hoc si ius aspicias irritum, si defuncti voluntatem ratum et firmum est.
But to me the dead man’s will — I fear in what sense the jurists may take what I am about to say — is older than the law, especially in what he wished to reach our common homeland.
Mihi autem defuncti voluntas - vereor quam in partem iuris consulti quod sum dicturus accipiant - antiquior iure est, utique in eo quod ad communem patriam voluit pervenire.
Shall I, who have bestowed sixteen hundred thousand sesterces of my own upon this town, deny it a little more than a third of four hundred thousand that comes to it from a windfall? I know that you too do not shrink from my view, since you love that same community as the best of citizens does.
An cui de meo sestertium sedecies contuli, huic quadringentorum milium paulo amplius tertiam partem ex adventicio denegem? Scio te quoque a iudicio meo non abhorrere, cum eandem rem publicam ut civis optimus diligas.
I should wish, then, that when next the decurions are gathered, you set out what the law is — sparingly, though, and modestly; and then add that we offer the four hundred thousand, as Saturninus directed. Let this be called his gift, his generosity; ours only the compliance.
Velim ergo, cum proxime decuriones contrahentur, quid sit iuris indices, parce tamen et modeste; deinde subiungas nos quadringenta milia offerre, sicut praeceperit Saturninus. Illius hoc munus, illius liberalitas; nostrum tantum obsequium vocetur.
I have forborne to write this officially, first because I remembered that, by the closeness of our friendship, and by the resource of your good sense, you both ought and were able to act my part as well as your own; and then because I feared I might not seem to have kept, in a letter, the measure that is easy for you to keep in conversation.
Haec ego scribere publice supersedi, primum quod memineram pro necessitudine amicitiae nostrae, pro facultate prudentiae tuae et debere te et posse perinde meis ac tuis partibus fungi; deinde quia verebar ne modum, quem tibi in sermone custodire facile est, tenuisse in epistula non viderer.
For conversation is governed by the face, the gesture, the very voice; a letter, stripped of all these aids, is exposed to the malice of those who construe it. Farewell.
Nam sermonem vultus gestus vox ipsa moderatur, epistula omnibus commendationibus destituta malignitati interpretantium exponitur. Vale.
You urge me to write history, and you do not urge it alone: many have often advised me of this, and I am willing — not because I am confident I shall do it well (that you would rashly believe, untried), but because it seems to me, above all, a fine thing not to let those perish to whom eternity is owed, and to extend the fame of others along with one’s own.
Suades ut historiam scribam, et suades non solus: multi hoc me saepe monuerunt et ego volo, non quia commode facturum esse confidam - id enim temere credas nisi expertus -, sed quia mihi pulchrum in primis videtur non pati occidere, quibus aeternitas debeatur, aliorumque famam cum sua extendere.
And nothing so works upon me as the love and longing for lasting renown — a thing most worthy of a man, especially of one who, conscious to himself of no fault, does not dread the memory of posterity.
Me autem nihil aeque ac diuturnitatis amor et cupido sollicitat, res homine dignissima, eo praesertim qui nullius sibi conscius culpae posteritatis memoriam non reformidet.
And so by day and night I ponder whether "I too may find some way to lift myself from the ground"; for that suffices for my prayer — this is beyond it: "and, victorious, to fly upon the lips of men"; "and yet — oh!" — but it is enough, what history almost alone seems to promise.
Itaque diebus ac noctibus cogito, si ’qua me quoque possim tollere humo’; id enim voto meo sufficit, illud supra votum ’victorque virum volitare per ora’; ’quamquam o-’: sed hoc satis est, quod prope sola historia polliceri videtur.
For oratory and poetry have little charm, unless the eloquence is supreme: history, written in whatever manner, gives pleasure. For men are by nature curious, and are caught by even the barest acquaintance with events, being people who are drawn even by gossip and little tales. And a domestic example, too, impels me to this pursuit.
Orationi enim et carmini parva gratia, nisi eloquentia est summa: historia quoquo modo scripta delectat. Sunt enim homines natura curiosi, et quamlibet nuda rerum cognitione capiuntur, ut qui sermunculis etiam fabellisque ducantur. Me vero ad hoc studium impellit domesticum quoque exemplum.
My uncle, who was also by adoption my father, wrote histories, and most scrupulously. And I find it laid down among the wise that it is most honorable to follow in the footsteps of one’s forebears, provided only they have gone before on a straight road. Why, then, do I hesitate?
Avunculus meus idemque per adoptionem pater historias et quidem religiosissime scripsit. Invenio autem apud sapientes honestissimum esse maiorum vestigia sequi, si modo recto itinere praecesserint. Cur ergo cunctor?
I have pleaded great and weighty cases. These, even though my hope from them is slight, I mean to work over again, lest all that great labor of mine, unless I add this remaining bit of effort, perish together with me.
Egi magnas et graves causas. Has, etiamsi mihi tenuis ex iis spes, destino retractare, ne tantus ille labor meus, nisi hoc quod reliquum est studii addidero, mecum pariter intercidat.
For if you reckon with posterity, whatever is not finished counts as not begun. You will say: "You can at once both rewrite your speeches and compose a history." Would that I could! but each is so great a thing that it is abundance to accomplish the one.
Nam si rationem posteritatis habeas, quidquid non est peractum, pro non incohato est. Dices: ’Potes simul et rescribere actiones et componere historiam.’ Utinam! sed utrumque tam magnum est, ut abunde sit alterum efficere.
In the nineteenth year of my age I began to plead in the forum, and only now do I see what an orator ought to deliver — and even now through a fog.
Unodevicensimo aetatis anno dicere in foro coepi, et nunc demum quid praestare debeat orator, adhuc tamen per caliginem video.
What if to this burden a new one were added? Oratory and history have, to be sure, much in common, but more that differs, even in the very things that seem common. The one narrates, the other narrates, but differently: to the one belong mostly things lowly and mean and fetched from the midst of life; to the other, all things recondite, splendid, lofty.
Quid si huic oneri novum accesserit? Habet quidem oratio et historia multa communia, sed plura diversa in his ipsis, quae communia videntur. Narrat illa narrat haec, sed aliter: huic pleraque humilia et sordida et ex medio petita, illi omnia recondita splendida excelsa conveniunt;
The one is best becomed by bones, muscles, sinews; the other by a kind of brawn and, as it were, a mane; the one pleases above all by force, by sharpness, by pressing on; the other by sweep and smoothness and even sweetness; lastly, different words, a different sound, a different construction.
hanc saepius ossa musculi nervi, illam tori quidam et quasi iubae decent; haec vel maxime vi amaritudine instantia, illa tractu et suavitate atque etiam dulcedine placet; postremo alia verba alius sonus alia constructio.
For it matters very greatly, as Thucydides says, whether a thing is "a possession" or "a prize-piece for the moment"; of which the one is oratory, the other history. For these reasons I am not led to confound and mix two things so unlike, and different in the very point in which they are greatest, lest, thrown into disorder by such a welter, I should do there what I owe here; and so, for the present — not to abandon my own profession’s word for it — I beg an adjournment.
Nam plurimum refert, ut Thucydides ait, κτῆμα sit an ἀγώνισμα; quorum alterum oratio, alterum historia est. His ex causis non adducor ut duo dissimilia et hoc ipso diversa, quo maxima, confundam misceamque, ne tanta quasi colluvione turbatus ibi faciam quod hic debeo; ideoque interim veniam, ut ne a meis verbis recedam, advocandi peto.
Yet do you, even now, consider what times I had best take up. Old ones, already written of by others? The research is ready to hand, but the collation is burdensome. Untouched and recent ones? The offenses are grave, the gratitude slight.
Tu tamen iam nunc cogita quae potissimum tempora aggrediar. Vetera et scripta aliis? Parata inquisitio, sed onerosa collatio. Intacta et nova? Graves offensae levis gratia.
For besides that, amid such great vices of men, there is more to blame than to praise, you will then be called stinting if you praise, excessive if you blame — however fully you have done the one, however sparingly the other.
Nam praeter id, quod in tantis vitiis hominum plura culpanda sunt quam laudanda, tum si laudaveris parcus, si culpaveris nimius fuisse dicaris, quamvis illud plenissime, hoc restrictissime feceris.
But these things do not hold me back; for I have spirit enough to match my honesty: this I ask, that you smooth the way to what you urge, and choose the subject, lest, when I am at last ready to write, some fresh and just cause of hesitation and delay arise for me. Farewell.
Sed haec me non retardant; est enim mihi pro fide satis animi: illud peto praesternas ad quod hortaris, eligasque materiam, ne mihi iam scribere parato alia rursus cunctationis et morae iusta ratio nascatur. Vale.
I had gone down into the Basilica Julia, to hear those to whom I was to reply at the next adjournment.
Descenderam in basilicam Iuliam, auditurus quibus proxima comperendinatione respondere debebam.
The judges were seated, the decemvirs had come, the advocates were going to and fro, a long silence; at last a message from the praetor. The centumvirs are dismissed, the day is struck out — to my joy, for I am never so well prepared that I do not delight in a delay.
Sedebant iudices, decemviri venerant, obversabantur advocati, silentium longum; tandem a praetore nuntius. Dimittuntur centumviri, eximitur dies me gaudente, qui umquam ita paratus sum ut non mora laeter.
The cause of the postponement was the praetor Nepos, who presides over criminal trials. He had put up a brief edict, warning accusers, warning defendants, that he would enforce what was contained in a decree of the senate.
Causa dilationis Nepos praetor, qui legibus quaerit. Proposuerat breve edictum, admonebat accusatores, admonebat reos exsecuturum se quae senatus consulto continerentur.
Beneath the edict stood the senate’s decree: by it all who had any business were bidden to swear, before they proceeded, that they had given, promised, or pledged nothing to anyone for advocacy. For by these words, and a thousand besides, advocacy was forbidden to be sold and bought; yet, once the business was done, it was permitted to give money, but only up to ten thousand.
Suberat edicto senatus consultum: hoc omnes qui quid negotii haberent iurare prius quam agerent iubebantur, nihil sc ob advocationem cuiquam dedisse promisisse cavisse. His enim verbis ac mille praeterea et venire advocationes et emi vetabantur; peractis tamen negotiis permittebatur pecuniam dumtaxat decem milium dare.
Stirred by this act of Nepos, the praetor who presides over the centumviral court, meaning to deliberate whether he should follow the example, gave us unlooked-for leisure.
Hoc facto Nepotis commotus praetor qui centumviralibus praesidet, deliberaturus an sequeretur exemplum, inopinatum nobis otium dedit.
Meanwhile, throughout the whole city, Nepos’s edict is picked at and praised. Many say: "We have found a man to set crooked things straight! What? were there no praetors before him? and who is this, to reform the public morals?" Others, on the contrary: "He has done quite rightly; about to enter his magistracy, he learned the laws, read the decrees of the senate, checks the foulest bargains, and will not suffer a most beautiful thing to be sold most basely."
Interim tota civitate Nepotis edictum carpitur laudatur. Multi: ’Invenimus, qui curva corrigeret! Quid? ante hunc praetores non fuerunt? quis autem hic est, qui emendet publicos mores?’ Alii contra: ’Rectissime fecit; initurus magistratum iura cognovit, senatus consulta legit, reprimit foedissimas pactiones, rem pulcherrimam turpissime venire non patitur.’
Such talk everywhere, which, however, will prevail one way or the other according to the outcome. It is altogether unfair, but established by custom, that honorable counsels, or base ones, are approved or blamed just as they turn out ill or well. Hence the same deeds mostly take the name now of diligence, now of vanity; now of independence, now of madness. Farewell.
Tales ubique sermones, qui tamen alterutram in partem ex eventu praevalebunt. Est omnino iniquum, sed usu receptum, quod honesta consilia vel turpia, prout male aut prospere cedunt, ita vel probantur vel reprehenduntur. Inde plerumque eadem facta modo diligentiae modo vanitatis, modo libertatis modo furoris nomen accipiunt. Vale.
Free at last the pledge of my hendecasyllables, which promised your writings to our common friends. They are dunned daily, importuned, and now there is danger they may be forced to accept a writ for their production.
Libera tandem hendecasyllaborum meorum fidem, qui scripta tua communibus amicis spoponderunt. Appellantur cotidie, efflagitantur, ac iam periculum est ne cogantur ad exhibendum formulam accipere.
I too am a hesitater in publishing, yet you have outdone even my dawdling and slowness. So either break off your delays now, or beware lest those very little books, which my hendecasyllables cannot coax out of you by flattery, the scazons wring out of you by abuse.
Sum et ipse in edendo haesitator, tu tamen meam quoque cunctationem tarditatemque vicisti. Proinde aut rumpe iam moras aut cave ne eosdem istos libellos, quos tibi hendecasyllabi nostri blanditiis elicere non possunt, convicio scazontes extorqueant.
The work is finished and complete, and the file no longer brightens it but wears it away. Let me see your title-page; let me hear that the volumes of my Tranquillus are being copied, read, sold. It is only fair that, in a love so mutual, I should take from you the same pleasure that you take to the full from me. Farewell.
Perfectum opus absolutumque est, nec iam splendescit lima sed atteritur. Patere me videre titulum tuum, patere audire describi legi venire volumina Tranquilli mei. Aequum est nos in amore tam mutuo eandem percipere ex te voluptatem, qua tu perfrueris ex nobis. Vale.
I have received your letter, from which I learned that you have dedicated a most splendid portico under your own name and your son’s, and on the following day promised money for the adornment of the gates, so that the completion of one act of generosity might be the beginning of a new one.
Recepi litteras tuas ex quibus cognovi speciosissimam te porticum sub tuo filiique tui nomine dedicasse, sequenti die in portarum ornatum pecuniam promisisse, ut initium novae liberalitatis esset consummatio prioris.
I rejoice, first, in your glory, of which some part overflows to me by our kinship; next, that I see the memory of my father-in-law carried on by these most beautiful works; lastly, that our homeland flourishes — which, by whomever it is adorned, is pleasant to me, but by you most joyful of all.
Gaudeo primum tua gloria, cuius ad me pars aliqua pro necessitudine nostra redundat; deinde quod memoriam soceri mei pulcherrimis operibus video proferri; postremo quod patria nostra florescit, quam mihi a quocumque excoli iucundum, a te vero laetissimum est.
For the rest, I pray the gods to grant you that spirit of yours, and to that spirit the longest possible span. For it is clear to me that, once you have finished what you lately promised, you will begin another thing. For generosity, once roused, knows not how to stand still — generosity whose beauty its very practice commends. Farewell.
Quod superest, deos precor ut animum istum tibi, animo isti tempus quam longissimum tribuant. Nam liquet mihi futurum ut peracto quod proxime promisisti, incohes aliud. Nescit enim semel incitata liberalitas stare, cuius pulchritudinem usus ipse commendat. Vale.
About to recite a little speech which I am thinking of publishing, I called in some, that I might feel awe; a few, that I might hear the truth. For I have a twofold reason for reciting: one, that I may be braced by anxiety; the other, that I may be warned if anything, being mine, perhaps escapes me as mine.
Recitaturus oratiunculam quam publicare cogito, advocavi aliquos ut vererer, paucos ut verum audirem. Nam mihi duplex ratio recitandi, una ut sollicitudine intendar, altera ut admonear, si quid forte me ut meum fallit.
I got what I sought: I found those who would put the abundance of their counsel at my disposal, and I myself, besides, noted certain things to be corrected. I corrected the book, which I have sent you.
Tuli quod petebam: inveni qui mihi copiam consilii sui facerent, ipse praeterea quaedam emendanda adnotavi. Emendavi librum, quem misi tibi.
The subject you will learn from the title; the rest the book will unfold — a book that even now ought to grow so accustomed to standing alone as to be understood without a preface.
Materiam ex titulo cognosces, cetera liber explicabit, quem iam nunc oportet ita consuescere, ut sine praefatione intellegatur.
I should like you to write me what you think of the whole, and what of the parts. For I shall be either the more cautious in holding it back, or the more resolute in publishing it, according as your authority is added to the one side or the other. Farewell.
Tu velim quid de universo, quid de partibus sentias, scribas mihi. Ero enim vel cautior in continendo vel constantior in edendo, si huc vel illuc auctoritas tua accesserit. Vale.
You ask, and I promised that, if you asked, I would write you what outcome Nepos’s demand concerning Tuscilius Nominatus had had. Nominatus was brought in; he pleaded for himself, with no one accusing him. For the deputies of the Vicetines not only did not press him, but actually held him up.
Et tu rogas et ego promisi si rogasses, scripturum me tibi quem habuisset eventum postulatio Nepotis circa Tuscilium Nominatum. Inductus est Nominatus; egit ipse pro se nullo accusante. Nam legati Vicetinorum non modo non presserunt eum verum etiam sublevaverunt.
The sum of his defense: that it was not good faith in his advocacy that had failed him, but firmness; that he had gone down meaning to plead, and had even been seen in the senate-house, and then, terrified by the talk of friends, had withdrawn; for he had been warned not to resist so stubbornly — and that in the senate above all — the wish of a senator who was now contending not, so to speak, about a market, but about his favor, his repute, his standing; otherwise he would suffer greater odium than he had lately suffered.
Summa defensionis, non fidem sibi in advocatione sed constantiam defuisse; descendisse ut acturum, atque etiam in curia visum, deinde sermonibus amicorum perterritum recessisse; monitum enim ne desiderio senatoris, non iam quasi de nundinis sed quasi de gratia fama dignitate certantis, tam pertinaciter praesertim in senatu repugnaret, alioqui maiorem invidiam quam proxime passurus.
There had, to be sure, been some shouting at him earlier as he left — by a few, though. He added entreaties and a flood of tears; indeed, throughout the whole pleading the man, practiced in speaking, took pains to seem to be begging off — that being both more winning and safer — rather than defending himself.
Erat sane prius, a paucis tamen, acclamatum exeunti. Subiunxit preces multumque lacrimarum; quin etiam tota actione homo in dicendo exercitatus operam dedit, ut deprecari magis - id enim et favorabilius et tutius - quam defendi videretur.
He was acquitted by the motion of the consul-designate Afranius Dexter, of which this is the sum: that Nominatus would indeed have done better to carry through the cause of the Vicetines with the same spirit in which he had taken it up; but since he had fallen into this kind of fault not by fraud, and was not convicted of having committed anything deserving of punishment, he should be acquitted — on condition that he restore to the Vicetines what he had received.
Absolutus est sententia designati consulis Afrani Dextri, cuius haec summa: melius quidem Nominatum fuisse facturum, si causam Vicetinorum eodem animo quo susceperat pertulisset; quia tamen in hoc genus culpae non fraude incidisset, nihilque dignum animadversione admisisse convinceretur, liberandum, ita ut Vicetinis quod acceperat redderet.
All assented except Fabius Aper. He moved that Nominatus be barred from advocacy for five years, and, although he drew no one to his side by his authority, stood firmly by his motion; nay, he even compelled Dexter, who had first moved otherwise, by producing the law on the holding of the senate, to swear that what he had moved was for the public good.
Assenserunt omnes praeter Fabium Aprum. Is interdicendum ei advocationibus in quinquennium censuit, et quamvis neminem auctoritate traxisset, constanter in sententia mansit; quin etiam Dextrum, qui primus diversum censuerat, prolata lege de senatu habendo iurare coegit e re publica esse quod censuisset.
Against this demand, lawful though it was, some cried out; for it seemed to charge the mover with self-seeking. But before the motions were put, Nigrinus, tribune of the plebs, read out an eloquent and weighty memorandum, in which he complained that advocacy was being sold, that collusion too was being sold, that men combined to manufacture lawsuits, and that great and fixed revenues, drawn from the spoils of citizens, were being set up in the place of glory.
Cui quamquam legitimae postulationi a quibusdam reclamatum est; exprobrare enim censenti ambitionem videbatur. Sed prius quam sententiae dicerentur, Nigrinus tribunus plebis recitavit libellum disertum et gravem, quo questus est venire advocationes, venire etiam praevaricationes, in lites coiri, et gloriae loco poni ex spoliis civium magnos et statos reditus.
He read out the heads of the laws, reminded the senate of its decrees, and at the end said that request should be made of our excellent princeps that, since the laws, since the decrees of the senate were despised, he himself should remedy such great evils.
Recitavit capita legum, admonuit senatus consultorum, in fine dixit petendum ab optimo principe, ut quia leges, quia senatus consulta contemnerentur, ipse tantis vitiis mederetur.
A few days, and there came the princeps’s rescript, severe and yet moderate: you may read it yourself; it is in the public records. How it gladdens me that, in pleading cases, I have always kept clear not only of bargain, gift, and fee, but even of presents!
Pauci dies, et liber principis severus et tamen moderatus: leges ipsum; est in publicis actis. Quam me iuvat, quod in causis agendis non modo pactione dono munere verum etiam xeniis semper abstinui!
One ought, indeed, to shun what is dishonorable not as though it were forbidden but as though it were shameful; yet it is pleasant to see publicly prohibited what you have never permitted yourself.
Oportet quidem, quae sunt inhonesta, non quasi illicita sed quasi pudenda vitare; iucundum tamen si prohiberi publice videas, quod numquam tibi ipse permiseris.
There will perhaps be — nay, beyond doubt — both less praise and obscurer fame for this resolve of mine, now that all will do from necessity what I used to do of my own accord. Meanwhile I enjoy the pleasure of it, when some, in jest and play, keep calling me divine, and others say that a check has been put on my plunderings and my greed. Farewell.
Erit fortasse, immo non dubie, huius propositi mei et minor laus et obscurior fama, cum omnes ex necessitate facient quod ego sponte faciebam. Interim fruor voluptate, cum alii divinum me, alii meis rapinis meae avaritiae occursum per ludum ac iocum dictitant. Vale.
I had retired to my town, when it was reported to me that Cornutus Tertullus had received the charge of the Aemilian Way.
Secesseram in municipium, cum mihi nuntiatum est Cornutum Tertullum accepisse Aemiliae viae curam.
I cannot express with how great a joy I was filled, both on his account and on my own: on his, because, far removed though he is — as he is — from all ambition, an honor unsought must yet be pleasant to him; on my own, because the office entrusted to me delights me considerably more, now that I see one equal to it given to Cornutus.
Exprimere non possum, quanto sim gaudio affectus, et ipsius et meo nomine: ipsius quod, sit licet - sicut est - ab omni ambitione longe remotus, debet tamen ei iucundus honor esse ultro datus, meo quod aliquanto magis me delectat mandatum mihi officium, postquam par Cornuto datum video.
For to be made equal to good men is more welcome than to be raised in rank. And than Cornutus what is better, what more upright, what — in every kind of praise — more closely modeled on the pattern of antiquity? as I have learned, not by reputation, of which otherwise he enjoys the best and the most deserved, but by long and great proofs.
Neque enim augeri dignitate quam aequari bonis gratius. Cornuto autem quid melius, quid sanctius, quid in omni genere laudis ad exemplar antiquitatis expressius? quod mihi cognitum est non fama, qua alioqui optima et meritissima fruitur, sed longis magnisque experimentis.
Together we love, together we have loved, almost all whom our age has produced, of either sex, as worthy to be emulated; and this fellowship of friendships has joined us in the closest intimacy.
Una diligimus, una dileximus omnes fere quos aetas nostra in utroque sexu aemulandos tulit; quae societas amicitiarum artissima nos familiaritate coniunxit.
There was added the bond of a public tie; for he was my colleague, as you know — sought, as it were, by my own prayer — in the prefecture of the treasury, and was so in the consulship too. Then it was that I looked most deeply into what a man, and how great a man, he was, when I followed him as a master, and revered him as a parent, which he deserved not so much by ripeness of age as of life.
Accessit vinculum necessitudinis publicae; idem enim mihi, ut scis, collega quasi voto petitus in praefectura aerarii fuit, fuit et in consulatu. Tum ego qui vir et quantus esset altissime inspexi, cum sequerer ut magistrum, ut parentem vererer, quod non tam aetatis maturitate quam vitae merebatur.
For these reasons I congratulate myself as I do him, and no more privately than publicly, that at last men arrive, by their virtue, not at dangers, as before, but at honors.
His ex causis ut illi sic mihi gratulor, nec privatim magis quam publice, quod tandem homines non ad pericula ut prius verum ad honores virtute perveniunt.
I should stretch the letter on without end, if I gave way to my joy. I turn instead to what this news caught me doing here.
In infinitum epistulam extendam, si gaudio meo indulgeam. Praevertor ad ea, quae me agentem hic nuntius deprehendit.
I was with my wife’s grandfather, I was with my wife’s aunt, I was with friends long missed; I was going round the little fields, hearing much of country complaints, reading the accounts unwillingly and in haste — for I am initiated into other pages, other letters than these — and I had even begun to make myself ready for the journey.
Eram cum prosocero meo, eram cum amita uxoris, eram cum amicis diu desideratis, circumibam agellos, audiebam multum rusticarum querellarum, rationes legebam invitus et cursim - aliis enim chartis, aliis sum litteris initiatus -, coeperam etiam itineri me praeparare.
For I am hemmed in by the narrow limits of my leave; and by the very fact that I hear the office has been assigned to Cornutus, I am put in mind of my own. I wish that your Campania too may release you at about the same time, so that no day of our companionship may be lost when I have returned to the city. Farewell.
Nam includor angustiis commeatus, eoque ipso, quod delegatum Cornuto audio officium, mei admoneor. Cupio te quoque sub idem tempus Campania tua remittat, ne quis cum in urbem rediero, contubernio nostro dies pereat. Vale.
When I rival your verses, then most of all do I learn how good they are. For just as painters rarely reproduce a beautiful and finished face except for the worse, so I slip and fall away from this original.
Cum versus tuos aemulor, tum maxime quam sint boni experior. Ut enim pictores pulchram absolutamque faciem raro nisi in peius effingunt, ita ego ab hoc archetypo labor et decido.
All the more do I urge you to bring out as many as may be — verses that all may long to imitate, and none, or very few, be able to. Farewell.
Quo magis hortor, ut quam plurima proferas, quae imitari omnes concupiscant, nemo aut paucissimi possint. Vale.
Most sorrowful, I write this to you: the younger daughter of our Fundanus is dead. Than which girl I have never seen anything more sprightly, more lovable, nor more worthy not only of a longer life but almost of immortality.
Tristissimus haec tibi scribo, Fundani nostri filia minore defuncta. Qua puella nihil umquam festivius amabilius, nec modo longiore vita sed prope immortalitate dignius vidi.
She had not yet completed fourteen years, and already she had an old woman’s prudence, a matron’s gravity, and yet a girl’s sweetness with a maiden’s modesty.
Nondum annos xiiii impleverat, et iam illi anilis prudentia, matronalis gravitas erat et tamen suavitas puellaris cum virginali verecundia.
How she clung to her father’s neck! how lovingly and modestly she embraced us, her father’s friends! how she loved her nurses, her attendants, her teachers, each for his own office! how studiously, how understandingly she read and read again! how sparingly and guardedly she played! With what self-restraint, what patience, what firmness too she bore her last illness!
Ut illa patris cervicibus inhaerebat! ut nos amicos paternos et amanter et modeste complectebatur! ut nutrices, ut paedagogos, ut praeceptores pro suo quemque officio diligebat! quam studiose, quam intellegenter lectitabat! ut parce custoditeque ludebat! Qua illa temperantia, qua patientia, qua etiam constantia novissimam valetudinem tulit!
She obeyed the physicians, encouraged her sister and her father, and, herself forsaken by the strength of her body, held herself up by the vigor of her spirit.
Medicis obsequebatur, sororem patrem adhortabatur ipsamque se destitutam corporis viribus vigore animi sustinebat.
This endured in her to the very end, and was broken neither by the length of the illness nor by the fear of death — wherefore she leaves us the more, and the heavier, causes of longing and of grief.
Duravit hic illi usque ad extremum, nec aut spatio valetudinis aut metu mortis infractus est, quo plures gravioresque nobis causas relinqueret et desiderii et doloris.
O death plainly sad and bitter! O timing of the death more cruel than the death itself! Already she had been betrothed to an excellent young man, already the wedding day was chosen, already we had been bidden to it. What joy was changed into what mourning!
O triste plane acerbumque funus! o morte ipsa mortis tempus indignius! iam testinata erat egregio iuveni, iam electus nuptiarum dies, iam nos vocati. Quod gaudium quo maerore mutatum est!
I cannot put into words what a wound I took to the heart when I heard Fundanus himself — as grief devises many sorrowful things — directing that what he had been about to spend on clothes, pearls, and jewels should be laid out instead on incense and unguents and spices.
Non possum exprimere verbis quantum animo vulnus acceperim, cum audivi Fundanum ipsum, ut multa luctuosa dolor invenit, praecipientem, quod in vestes margarita gemmas fuerat erogaturus, hoc in tus et unguenta et odores impenderetur.
He is indeed learned and wise, as one who from his earliest years has given himself to the higher studies and arts; but now he spurns all that he has often heard, all that he has said, and, every other virtue driven out, is wholly given over to a father’s love.
Est quidem ille eruditus et sapiens, ut qui se ab ineunte aetate altioribus studiis artibusque dediderit; sed nunc omnia, quae audiit saepe quae dixit, aspernatur expulsisque virtutibus aliis pietatis est totus.
You will pardon him, you will even praise him, if you consider what he has lost. For he has lost a daughter who recalled his character no less than his face and look, and had copied out the whole of her father in a marvelous likeness.
Ignosces, laudabis etiam, si cogitaveris quid amiserit. Amisit enim filiam, quae non minus mores eius quam os vultumque referebat, totumque patrem mira similitudine exscripserat.
So, if you send him any letter about a grief so just, remember to bring a comfort not, as it were, chastising and too strong, but soft and humane. And, that he may the more easily admit it, the space of intervening time will do much.
Proinde si quas ad eum de dolore tam iusto litteras mittes, memento adhibere solacium non quasi castigatorium et nimis forte, sed molle et humanum. Quod ut facilius admittat, multum faciet medii temporis spatium.
For as a wound still raw shrinks from the hands of those who would heal it, then suffers them, and even seeks them out of its own accord, so a fresh grief of the mind rejects and flees from consolations, then presently longs for them and rests in those gently applied. Farewell.
Ut enim crudum adhuc vulnus medentium manus reformidat, deinde patitur atque ultro requirit, sic recens animi dolor consolationes reicit ac refugit, mox desiderat et clementer admotis acquiescit. Vale.
I know how greatly you favor the liberal arts, how much joy you take if young men of birth do something worthy of their ancestors. The more eagerly do I report to you that I was today in the lecture-hall of Calpurnius Piso.
Scio quanto opere bonis artibus faveas, quantum gaudium capias, si nobiles iuvenes dignum aliquid maioribus suis faciant. Quo festinantius nuntio tibi fuisse me hodie in auditorio Calpurni Pisonis.
He was reciting his Catasterisms (the placing of figures among the stars) — a learned subject, to be sure, and a brilliant one. It was written in elegiacs flowing and tender and smooth, and lofty too, where the matter demanded. For aptly and variously it now rose, now sank; it exchanged the lofty for the low, the slight for the full, the grave for the pleasant — all with equal talent.
Recitabat καταστερισμῶν eruditam sane luculentamque materiam. Scripta elegis erat fluentibus et teneris et enodibus, sublimibus etiam, ut poposcit locus. Apte enim et varie nunc attollebatur, nunc residebat; excelsa depressis, exilia plenis, severis iucunda mutabat, omnia ingenio pari.
He commended all this by a most sweet voice, and the voice by his modesty: much color, much anxiety in his face — great adornments in one reciting. For somehow or other, in matters of study, fear becomes a man more than confidence does.
Commendabat haec voce suavissima, vocem verecundia: multum sanguinis, multum sollicitudinis in ore, magna ornamenta recitantis. Etenim nescio quo pacto magis in studiis homines timor quam fiducia decet.
Not to say more — though I should like to say more, the finer such things are in a young man, the rarer in one of birth — when the recital was over I kissed the youth long and warmly, and with praises, which are the keenest spur to admonition, I urged him on to go forward where he had begun, and himself to carry before his descendants the light that his ancestors had carried before him.
Ne plura - quamquam libet plura, quo sunt pulchriora de iuvene, rariora de nobili -, recitatione finita multum ac diu exosculatus adulescentem, qui est acerrimus stimulus monendi, laudibus incitavi, pergeret qua coepisset, lumenque quod sibi maiores sui praetulissent, posteris ipse praeferret.
I congratulated his excellent mother, and congratulated his brother too, who carried off from that lecture-hall no less glory of brotherly love than the other did of eloquence: so markedly, while his brother was reciting, did first his fear, then his joy stand out.
Gratulatus sum optimae matri, gratulatus et fratri, qui ex auditorio illo non minorem pietatis gloriam quam ille alter eloquentiae retulit: tam notabiliter pro fratre recitante primum metus eius, mox gaudium eminuit.
May the gods grant that I report such things to you more often! For I am partial to the age, that it be not barren and worn out, and I wonderfully long that our nobles should have in their houses nothing beautiful but ancestral masks — masks which now seem to me, in silence, to praise and encourage these young men, and (what is glory great enough for them both) to acknowledge them as their own. Farewell.
Di faciant ut talia tibi saepius nuntiem! Faveo enim saeculo ne sit sterile et effetum, mireque cupio ne nobiles nostri nihil in domibus suis pulchrum nisi imagines habeant; quae nunc mihi hos adulescentes tacitae laudare adhortari, et quod amborum gloriae satis magnum est, agnoscere videntur. Vale.
It is well with me because it is well with you. You have your wife with you, you have your son; you enjoy the sea, springs, green places, a field, a most charming villa. For I do not doubt it is most charming, in which a man had settled himself who was very fortunate, before he became the most fortunate of all.
Bene est mihi quia tibi bene est. Habes uxorem tecum, habes filium; frueris mari fontibus viridibus agro villa amoenissima. Neque enim dubito esse amoenissimam, in qua se composuerat homo felicior, ante quam felicissimus fieret.
I, on my Tuscan estate, both hunt and study — which I do sometimes by turns, sometimes together; nor can I yet pronounce which is the harder, to catch something or to write something. Farewell.
Ego in Tuscis et venor et studeo, quae interdum alternis, interdum simul facio; nec tamen adhuc possum pronuntiare, utrum sit difficilius capere aliquid an scribere. Vale.
I see how gently you treat your people; the more frankly will I confess to you with what indulgence I handle mine.
Video quam molliter tuos habeas; quo simplicius tibi confitebor, qua indulgentia meos tractem.
I always keep in mind both that Homeric line, "and he was gentle as a father," and this phrase of ours, "father of the household." And even if I were by nature harsher and harder, the frailty of my freedman Zosimus would still break me down — to whom the greater kindness must be shown, the more he now stands in need of it.
Est mihi semper in animo et Homericum illud πατὴρ δʼ ὥς ἤπιος ἦεν et hoc nostrum ’pater familiae’. Quod si essem natura asperior et durior, frangeret me tamen infirmitas liberti mei Zosimi, cui tanto maior humanitas exhibenda est, quanto nunc illa magis eget.
An honest man, dutiful, lettered; and his trade, and as it were his label, is comic actor, at which he does very much indeed. For he declaims keenly, wisely, aptly, and with grace too; he uses the lyre skillfully, beyond what is needful for a comic actor. The same man reads speeches and histories and poems so well that he seems to have learned this alone.
Homo probus officiosus litteratus; et ars quidem eius et quasi inscriptio comoedus, in qua plurimum facit. Nam pronuntiat acriter sapienter apte decenter etiam; utitur et cithara perite, ultra quam comoedo necesse est. Idem tam commode orationes et historias et carmina legit, ut hoc solum didicisse videatur.
I have set this out for you carefully, that you might the better know how many, and how welcome, are the services this one man renders me. There is added now a long affection for the man, which his very perils have increased.
Haec tibi sedulo exposui, quo magis scires, quam multa unus mihi et quam iucunda ministeria praestaret. Accedit longa iam caritas hominis, quam ipsa pericula auxerunt.
For it is so ordered by nature that nothing equally rouses and kindles love as the fear of losing — which, for him, I suffer more than once.
Est enim ita natura comparatum, ut nihil aeque amorem incitet et accendat quam carendi metus; quem ego pro hoc non semel patior.
For some years ago, while declaiming intently and insistently, he brought up blood, and on this account was sent by me to Egypt, from which, after a long sojourn, he returned of late restored; then, when for days on end he overtaxed his voice, warned by a slight cough of his old weakness, he again brought up blood.
Nam ante aliquot annos, dum intente instanterque pronuntiat, sanguinem reiecit atque ob hoc in Aegyptum missus a me post longam peregrinationem confirmatus rediit nuper; deinde dum per continuos dies nimis imperat voci, veteris infirmitatis tussicula admonitus rursus sanguinem reddidit.
For which reason I have resolved to send him to your estate at Forum Julii. For I have often heard you relate that the air there is healthful, and the milk most suited to cures of this kind.
Qua ex causa destinavi eum mittere in praedia tua, quae Foro Iulii possides. Audivi enim te saepe referentem esse ibi et aera salubrem et lac eiusmodi curationibus accommodatissimum.
I ask you, then, to write to your people that the villa, that the house be open to him, and that they even provide for his expenses, if there shall be any need.
Rogo ergo scribas tuis, ut illi villa, ut domus pateat, offerant etiam sumptibus eius, si quid opus erit.
The need, however, will be slight; for he is so sparing and self-controlled that by his frugality he stints not only luxuries but even the necessities of his health. As he sets out, I will give him such travel-money as is enough for one going to your estate. Farewell.
Erit autem opus modico; est enim tam parcus et continens, ut non solum delicias verum etiam necessitates valetudinis frugalitate restringat. Ego proficiscenti tantum viatici dabo, quantum sufficiat eunti in tua. Vale.
The Bithynians again: a short time after Julius Bassus, they have now accused the proconsul Rufus Varenus as well — the same Varenus whom, lately, they had both demanded and obtained as their advocate against Bassus. Brought into the senate, they demanded an inquiry.
Iterum Bithyni: breve tempus a Iulio Basso, et Rufum Varenum proconsulem detulerunt, Varenum quem nuper adversus Bassum advocatum et postularant et acceperant. Inducti in senatum inquisitionem postulaverunt.
Varenus asked that he too, for his defense, be allowed to summon witnesses; the Bithynians objecting, the hearing was taken up. I pleaded for Varenus, not without effect; for whether well or ill, the published book will show.
Varenus petit ut sibi quoque defensionis causa evocare testes liceret; recusantibus Bithynis cognitio suscepta est. Egi pro Vareno non sine eventu; nam bene an male liber indicabit.
For in pleadings fortune lords it both ways: memory, voice, gesture, the very occasion — and, last of all, love or hatred of the defendant — take much from the effect and add much to it; the book is free of offenses, free of favor, free of both lucky chances and unlucky.
In actionibus enim utramque in partem fortuna dominatur: multum commendationis et detrahit et affert memoria vox gestus tempus ipsum, postremo vel amor vel odium rei; liber offensis, liber gratia, liber et secundis casibus et adversis caret.
Fonteius Magnus, one of the Bithynians, answered me — with very many words, very few matters. Most of the Greeks have, as he has, volubility in place of abundance: such long and such frigid periods they whirl out in one breath, as in a torrent.
Respondit mihi Fonteius Magnus, unus ex Bithynis, plurimis verbis paucissimis rebus. Est plerisque Graecorum, ut illi, pro copia volubilitas: tam longas tamque frigidas perihodos uno spiritu quasi torrente contorquent.
And so Julius Candidus is wont to say, not without wit, that eloquence is one thing, fluency another. For eloquence has fallen to the lot of scarcely one or two — nay, if we believe Marcus Antonius, of no one — while this, which Candidus calls fluency, has fallen to many, and most of all to the most shameless.
Itaque Iulius Candidus non invenuste solet dicere, aliud esse eloquentiam aliud loquentiam. Nam eloquentia vix uni aut alteri, immo - si M. Antonio credimus - nemini, haec vero, quam Candidus loquentiam appellat, multis atque etiam impudentissimo cuique maxime contigit.
On the next day Homullus spoke for Varenus — cunningly, keenly, with polish; against him Nigrinus — concisely, weightily, ornately. Acilius Rufus, consul-designate, moved that the inquiry be granted to the Bithynians, and passed over Varenus’s demand in silence.
Postero die dixit pro Vareno Homullus callide acriter culte, contra Nigrinus presse graviter ornate. Censuit Acilius Rufus consul designatus inquisitionem Bithynis dandam, postulationem Vareni silentio praeteriit.
This was a way of refusing it. Cornelius Priscus, of consular rank, granted both to the accusers what they sought and to the defendant his demand, and prevailed by numbers. We obtained a thing neither covered by law nor much in use, yet just.
Haec forma negandi fuit. Cornelius Priscus consularis et accusatoribus quae petebant et reo tribuit, vicitque numero. Impetravimus rem nec lege comprehensam nec satis usitatam, iustam tamen.
"For men extol the more that song / which sounds the newest about the listeners’ ears."
τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικείουσʼ ἄνθρωποι, ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται,
Your letter affected me in mixed ways; for it contained things partly glad, partly sad: glad, in that it announced you were being kept in the city — "I should rather not be," you say; but I am glad you are — and, besides, in that it promised you would recite the moment I came; I thank you that I am awaited.
Varie me affecerunt litterae tuae; nam partim laeta partim tristia continebant: laeta quod te in urbe teneri nuntiabant - ’nollem’ inquis; sed ego volo -, praeterea quod recitaturum statim ut venissem pollicebantur; ago gratias quod exspector.
The sad part: that Julius Valens lies gravely ill; though not even this is sad, if it be measured by his own interest, for whom it matters to be freed as soon as may be from a hopeless disease.
Triste illud, quod Iulius Valens graviter iacet; quamquam ne hoc quidem triste, si illius utilitatibus aestimetur, cuius interest quam maturissime inexplicabili morbo liberari.
But this is plainly not only sad but mournful: that Julius Avitus has died while returning from his quaestorship — died on board ship, far from a most loving brother, far from his mother and his sisters
Illud plane non triste solum verum etiam luctuosum, quod Iulius Avitus decessit dum ex quaestura redit, decessit in nave, procul a fratre amantissimo, procul a matre a sororibus
— these things mean nothing to the dead, but they did mean something when he was dying, and they mean something to those who survive —; and then that in his first flower a young man of such great promise was snuffed out, who would have attained the highest, had his virtues come to ripeness.
- nihil ista ad mortuum pertinent, sed pertinuerunt cum moreretur, pertinent ad hos qui supersunt -; iam quod in flore primo tantae indolis iuvenis exstinctus est summa consecuturus, si virtutes eius maturuissent.
With what love of study he burned! how much he read, how much he even wrote! all of which has now gone away with him, without fruit for posterity.
Quo ille studiorum amore flagrabat! quantum legit, quantum etiam scripsit! quae nunc omnia cum ipso sine fructu posteritatis abierunt.
But why do I give way to grief? If you let go the reins to it, no subject is anything but the greatest. I will make an end of the letter, that I may also make an end of the tears the letter has wrung out. Farewell.
Sed quid ego indulgeo dolori? Cui si frenos remittas, nulla materia non maxima est. Finem epistulae faciam, ut facere possim etiam lacrimis quas epistula expressit. Vale.
As long as I was across the Po and you in Picenum, I missed you less; now that I am in the city and you are still in Picenum, much more — whether because the very places in which we are wont to be together prick the memory of you in me more sharply, or because longing for the absent is whetted by nothing so much as nearness, and the nearer you have come to the hope of enjoying, the more impatiently you go without.
Quamdiu ego trans Padum tu in Piceno, minus te requirebam; postquam ego in urbe tu adhuc in Piceno, multo magis, seu quod ipsa loca in quibus esse una solemus acrius me tui commonent, seu quod desiderium absentium nihil perinde ac vicinitas acuit, quoque propius accesseris ad spem fruendi, hoc impatientius careas.
Whatever the cause, snatch me from this torment. Come; or I will go back to the place from which I rashly hurried away — if only to test whether, once you have begun to be at Rome without me, you will send me letters like these. Farewell.
Quidquid in causa, eripe me huic tormento. Veni, aut ego illuc unde inconsulte properavi revertar, vel ob hoc solum, ut experiar an mihi, cum sine me Romae coeperis esse, similes his epistulas mittas. Vale.
I sometimes find myself looking, in the courts, for Marcus Regulus — for I do not wish to say that I miss him.
Soleo non numquam in iudiciis quaerere M. Regulum; nolo enim dicere desiderare.
Why, then, do I look for him? He held our studies in honor; he feared, he turned pale, he wrote — though he could not learn his speech by heart. That very habit of his, of painting now his right eye, now his left — the right if he was to plead for a plaintiff, the other if for a possessor — of shifting a white patch from this eyebrow to that, of always consulting the soothsayers about the outcome of a case: it came from too much superstition, but also from a great honoring of our studies.
Cur ergo quaero? Habebat studiis honorem, timebat pallebat scribebat, quamvis non posset ediscere. Illud ipsum, quod oculum modo dextrum modo sinistrum circumlinebat - dextrum si a petitore, alterum si a possessore esset acturus -, quod candidum splenium in hoc aut in illud supercilium transferebat, quod semper haruspices consulebat de actionis eventu, a nimia superstitione sed tamen et a magno studiorum honore veniebat.
And then there were those things, exceedingly pleasant to men pleading alongside him: that he would ask for unbounded time, that he would round up an audience. For what is more pleasant than, under cover of another man’s unpopularity, to speak at one’s ease for as long as one likes, and in someone else’s borrowed audience, as though caught there by chance?
Iam illa perquam iucunda una dicentibus, quod libera tempora petebat, quod audituros corrogabat. Quid enim iucundius quam sub alterius invidia quamdiu velis, et in alieno auditorio quasi deprehensum commode dicere?
But however these things stand, Regulus did well to die; better, had he died sooner. As it is, he might well have gone on living without harm to the public, under a prince under whom he had no power to do harm.
Sed utcumque se habent ista, bene fecit Regulus quod est mortuus: melius, si ante. Nunc enim sane poterat sine malo publico vivere, sub eo principe sub quo nocere non poterat.
And so it is right now and then to look for him. For since he died, the custom has spread everywhere and grown strong of both granting and asking for two water-clocks, or one, sometimes even a half. For those who plead would rather have pleaded than be pleading, and those who listen would rather have done than judge. Such is the negligence, such the sloth, such, in the end, the irreverence toward our studies and toward men’s perils.
Ideo fas est non numquam eum quaerere. Nam, postquam obiit ille, increbruit passim et invaluit consuetudo binas vel singulas clepsydras, interdum etiam dimidias et dandi et petendi. Nam et qui dicunt, egisse malunt quam agere, et qui audiunt, finire quam iudicare. Tanta neglegentia tanta desidia, tanta denique irreverentia studiorum periculorumque est.
Are we, then, wiser than our forefathers, more just than the laws themselves, which grant so many hours, so many days, so many adjournments? They were dull and slow beyond measure; we speak more plainly, understand more quickly, judge more scrupulously — because we rush causes through in fewer water-clocks than the days in which they used to be unfolded.
An nos sapientiores maioribus nostris, nos legibus ipsis iustiores, quae tot horas tot dies tot comperendinationes largiuntur? Hebetes illi et supra modum tardi; nos apertius dicimus, celerius intellegimus, religiosius iudicamus, quia paucioribus clepsydris praecipitamus causas quam diebus explicari solebant.
O Regulus, who by your ambition obtained from all what very few render out of good faith! For my part, as often as I sit in judgment — which I do even oftener than I plead — I grant as much water as anyone asks, at the most.
O Regule, qui ambitione ab omnibus obtinebas quod fidei paucissimi praestant! Equidem quotiens iudico, quod vel saepius facio quam dico, quantum quis plurimum postulat aquae do.
For I think it rash to divine, before hearing it, how spacious a case is, and to set a limit of time on a business whose measure you do not know — especially since a judge owes to his own conscientiousness, first of all, patience, which is a great part of justice. "But some things said are superfluous." True: yet it is better that these too be said than that what is necessary go unsaid.
Etenim temerarium existimo divinare quam spatiosa sit causa inaudita, tempusque negotio finire cuius modum ignores, praesertim cum primam religioni suae iudex patientiam debeat, quae pars magna iustitiae est. At quaedam supervacua dicuntur. Etiam: sed satius est et haec dici quam non dici necessaria.
Besides, whether they are superfluous you cannot know until you have heard them. But of this better face to face — as of the city’s many other vices. For you too, out of love for the common good, are wont to wish corrected the things it is now hard to set right.
Praeterea, an sint supervacua, nisi cum audieris scire non possis. Sed de his melius coram ut de pluribus vitiis civitatis. Nam tu quoque amore communium soles emendari cupere quae iam corrigere difficile est.
Now let us look back to our own households. Is all well with yours? With mine there is nothing new. And for me good things are the more welcome because they last, and discomforts the lighter because I have grown used to them. Farewell.
Nunc respiciamus domos nostras. Ecquid omnia in tua recte? in mea novi nihil. Mihi autem et gratiora sunt bona quod perseverant, et leviora incommoda quod assuevi. Vale.
I thank you for taking up the tending of the little farm I had given to my nurse. When I gave it, it was worth a hundred thousand sesterces; afterward, as its yield declined, its price too fell, which now under your care it will recover.
Gratias ago, quod agellum quem nutrici meae donaveram colendum suscepisti. Erat, cum donarem, centum milium nummum; postea decrescente reditu etiam pretium minuit, quod nunc te curante reparabit.
Only remember that what is commended to you by me is not the trees and the land — though these too — but my little gift, whose being as fruitful as possible is no more in the interest of her who received it than of me who gave it. Farewell.
Tu modo memineris commendari tibi a me non arbores et terram, quamquam haec quoque, sed munusculum meum, quod esse quam fructuosissimum non illius magis interest quae accepit, quam mea qui dedi. Vale.
Never have I complained more of my occupations, which did not suffer me either to accompany you as you set out for Campania for your health, or, once you had set out, to follow close on your track.
Numquam sum magis de occupationibus meis questus, quae me non sunt passae aut proficiscentem te valetudinis causa in Campaniam prosequi aut profectam e vestigio subsequi.
For now above all I wished to be with you, that I might trust my own eyes as to what you are gaining in strength, what in your dear frail body — whether, in short, you are passing without hurt through the pleasures of the retreat and the abundance of the region.
Nunc enim praecipue simul esse cupiebam, ut oculis meis crederem quid viribus quid corpusculo apparares, ecquid denique secessus voluptates regionisque abundantiam inoffensa transmitteres.
Indeed, even were you in good health I should long for you not without anxiety; for it is a thing of suspense and dread, now and then to know nothing of one whom you love most ardently.
Equidem etiam fortem te non sine cura desiderarem; est enim suspensum et anxium de eo quem ardentissime diligas interdum nihil scire.
But as it is, the thought both of your absence and of your weakness frightens me with an uncertain and shifting alarm. I fear everything, I imagine everything, and — as is the way of the fearful — the very things I most abhor are the ones I most picture to myself.
Nunc vero me cum absentiae tum infirmitatis tuae ratio incerta et varia sollicitudine exterret. Vereor omnia, imaginor omnia, quaeque natura metuentium est, ea maxime mihi quae maxime abominor fingo.
All the more earnestly do I beg you to humor my fear with a letter every day, even two. For I shall be easier while I read, and shall straightway fear again once I have read. Farewell.
Quo impensius rogo, ut timori meo cottidie singulis vel etiam binis epistulis consulas. Ero enim securior dum lego, statimque timebo cum legero. Vale.
I had written that Varenus had carried his point, that he might be allowed to summon witnesses on his own behalf; which seemed fair to most, but to some unfair — and that obstinately, most of all to Licinius Nepos, who at the next session of the senate, when other matters were being brought forward, discoursed on the recent decree and reopened a finished case.
Scripseram tenuisse Varenum, ut sibi evocare testes liceret; quod pluribus aequum, quibusdam iniquum et quidem pertinaciter visum, maxime Licinio Nepoti, qui sequenti senatu, cum de rebus aliis referretur, de proximo senatus consulto disseruit finitamque causam retractavit.
He added, too, that the consuls should be asked to bring a motion — on the model of the law on electoral bribery — concerning the law on extortion: whether it might please the house to add to that law, for the future, that just as accusers had under it the power of investigating and of serving notice on witnesses, so it should be granted to defendants as well.
Addidit etiam petendum a consulibus ut referrent sub exemplo legis ambitus de lege repetundarum, an placeret in futurum ad eam legem adici, ut sicut accusatoribus inquirendi testibusque denuntiandi potestas ex ea lege esset, ita reis quoque fieret.
There were those whom this speech of his displeased as late, untimely, and back-to-front, in that it chastised — when the time for speaking against had passed — a thing already done, which he might have met head-on.
Fuerunt quibus haec eius oratio ut sera et intempestiva et praepostera displiceret, quae omisso contra dicendi tempore castigaret peractum, cui potuisset occurrere.
Iuventius Celsus the praetor, indeed, rebuked him both at length and vehemently, as a would-be reformer of the senate. Nepos replied, and Celsus again; neither restrained himself from insults.
Iuventius quidem Celsus praetor tamquam emendatorem senatus et multis et vehementer increpuit. Respondit Nepos rursusque Celsus; neuter contumeliis temperavit.
I am unwilling to repeat what I was grieved to hear said by them. So much the more did I disapprove of certain men of our number who kept running now to Celsus, now to Nepos, according as this man or that was speaking, out of eagerness to listen — now as if to goad and kindle them, now as if to reconcile and recompose them — and who, more often for one, sometimes for both, kept praying for a gracious Caesar, as at some public game.
Nolo referre quae dici ab ipsis moleste tuli. Quo magis quosdam e numero nostro improbavi, qui modo ad Celsum modo ad Nepotem, prout hic vel ille diceret, cupiditate audiendi cursitabant, et nunc quasi stimularent et accenderent, nunc quasi reconciliarent ac recomponerent, frequentius singulis, ambobus interdum propitium Caesarem ut in ludicro aliquo precabantur.
To me indeed this too was very bitter: that they were each informed of what the other was preparing. For Celsus answered Nepos from a written brief, and Nepos answered Celsus from his notebooks.
Mihi quidem illud etiam peracerbum fuit, quod sunt alter alteri quid pararent indicati. Nam et Celsus Nepoti ex libello respondit et Celso Nepos ex pugillaribus.
Such was the talkativeness of their friends that men about to quarrel knew that very thing about each other beforehand, as though it had been arranged. Farewell.
Tanta loquacitas amicorum, ut homines iurgaturi id ipsum invicem scierint, tamquam convenisset. Vale.
If ever, now above all I could wish you to be at Rome — and I beg you to be. I have need of a partner in my vow, my toil, my anxiety. Julius Naso is seeking office; he seeks it among many, and among good men, whom it is as glorious as it is hard to outstrip.
Si quando, nunc praecipue cuperem esse te Romae, et sis rogo. Opus est mihi voti laboris sollicitudinis socio. Petit honores Iulius Naso; petit cum multis, cum bonis, quos ut gloriosum sic est difficile superare.
And so I hang in suspense and wear myself out with hope, am shaken by fear, and do not feel myself a consular; for once more I seem to myself a candidate for all the honors I have run through.
Pendeo ergo et exerceor spe, afficior metu et me consularem esse non sentio; nam rursus mihi videor omnium quae decucurri candidatus.
He earns this care of mine by his long affection for me. The friendship I have with him is not, indeed, one inherited from my father — for it could not be, given my age — yet his father used to be pointed out to me, with great praise, when I was scarcely more than a boy. He was most devoted not only to studies but to students, and almost daily would come to hear those whom I then attended, Quintilian and Niceta Sacerdos — a man otherwise distinguished and weighty, and one who, by the memory of himself, ought to do his son good.
Meretur hanc curam longa mei caritate. Est mihi cum illo non sane paterna amicitia - neque enim esse potuit per meam aetatem -; solebat tamen vixdum adulescentulo mihi pater eius cum magna laude monstrari. Erat non studiorum tantum verum etiam studiosorum amantissimus ac prope cotidie ad audiendos, quos tunc ego frequentabam, Quintilianum Niceten Sacerdotem ventitabat, vir alioqui clarus et gravis et qui prodesse filio memoria sui debeat.
But there are many now in the senate to whom that man is unknown, many to whom he is known, but who reverence none but the living. All the more must this man, setting aside his father’s glory — in which there is great ornament but weak influence — strive of himself, labor of himself.
Sed multi nunc in senatu quibus ignotus ille, multi quibus notus, sed non nisi viventes reverentur. Quo magis huic, omissa gloria patris in qua magnum ornamentum gratia infirma, ipsi enitendum ipsi elaborandum est.
And this indeed he has always done diligently, as though he foresaw this present time: he won friends, he cultivated those he had won, and me at least, as soon as he allowed himself to judge, he chose for love and for imitation.
Quod quidem semper, quasi provideret hoc tempus, sedulo fecit: paravit amicos, quos paraverat coluit, me certe, ut primum sibi iudicare permisit, ad amorem imitationemque delegit.
He stands anxiously by me when I plead, sits beside me when I recite; he is present at my little works even in their first and earliest birth — now alone, before with his brother, whose place, lately lost, I must take up, whose part I must fill.
Dicenti mihi sollicitus assistit, assidet recitanti; primis etiam et cum maxime nascentibus opusculis meis interest, nunc solus ante cum fratre, cuius nuper amissi ego suscipere partes, ego vicem debeo implere.
For I grieve both that the one was snatched away most undeservedly by an untimely death, and that the other is left bereft of his excellent brother’s support and abandoned to his friends alone.
Doleo enim et illum immatura morte indignissime raptum, et hunc optimi fratris adiumento destitutum solisque amicis relictum.
For these reasons I require that you come, and join your vote to mine. It matters very much to me to show you off, to go the rounds with you. Such is your authority that I think I shall canvass even my own friends the more effectively with you at my side.
Quibus ex causis exigo ut venias, et suffragio meo tuum iungas. Permultum interest mea te ostentare, tecum circumire. Ea est auctoritas tua, ut putem me efficacius tecum etiam meos amicos rogaturum.
Break off whatever holds you back: this my crisis, this my honor, this too my standing demands. I have taken up a candidate, and that I have taken him up is known; it is I who canvass, I who run the risk; in sum, if Naso is granted what he seeks, the honor is his; if it is refused, the rebuff is mine. Farewell.
Abrumpe si qua te retinent: hoc tempus meum, hoc fides, hoc etiam dignitas postulat. Suscepi candidatum, et suscepisse me notum est; ego ambio, ego periclitor; in summa, si datur Nasoni quod petit, illius honor, si negatur, mea repulsa est. Vale.
You write that you are affected by my absence not a little, and that you have one solace: that in my place you hold my little books, and often even set them in my own place.
Scribis te absentia mea non mediocriter affici unumque habere solacium, quod pro me libellos meos teneas, saepe etiam in vestigio meo colloces.
It is welcome that you long for me, welcome that you find rest in these consolations; in turn I read your letters over and over, and take them up again and again as though they were new.
Gratum est quod nos requiris, gratum quod his fomentis acquiescis; invicem ego epistulas tuas lectito atque identidem in manus quasi novas sumo.
But by that very thing I am the more kindled to longing for you: for if one whose letters hold so much sweetness, how much delight is in her talk! Yet write as often as you can — though it delights me in such a way that it also torments me. Farewell.
Sed eo magis ad desiderium tui accendor: nam cuius litterae tantum habent suavitatis, huius sermonibus quantum dulcedinis inest! Tu tamen quam frequentissime scribe, licet hoc ita me delectet ut torqueat. Vale.
You both know and love Atilius Crescens. For who, of any standing at all, either does not know or does not love him? Him I cherish not as the many do, but most closely.
Atilium Crescentem et nosti et amas. Quis enim illum spectatior paulo aut non novit aut non amat? Hunc ego non ut multi, sed artissime diligo.
Our towns are parted by a single day’s journey; we ourselves began, as mere youths, to love one another — which is the most ardent love. This remained afterward, nor did it cool with our judgment but grew stronger. They know it who look on either of us more intimately. For he carries my friendship about with the broadest proclamation, and I display openly how dear to me are his modesty, his quiet, his peace of mind.
Oppida nostra unius diei itinere dirimuntur; ipsi amare invicem, qui est flagrantissimus amor, adulescentuli coepimus. Mansit hic postea, nec refrixit iudicio sed invaluit. Sciunt qui alterutrum nostrum familiarius intuentur. Nam et ille amicitiam meam latissima praedicatione circumfert, et ego prae me fero, quantae sit mihi curae modestia quies securitas eius.
Indeed, when he feared the insolence of a certain man about to enter on a tribunate of the plebs, and had disclosed this to me, I answered: "No one, while I live." To what end this? That you may know Atilius cannot suffer a wrong while I am unharmed.
Quin etiam, cum insolentiam cuiusdam tribunatum plebis inituri vereretur, idque indicasset mihi, respondi: οὔ τις ἐμεῦ ζῶντος. Quorsus haec? ut scias, non posse Atilium me incolumi iniuriam accipere.
Again you will say, "To what end this?" Valerius Varus owed him money. Of this man our Maximus is the heir, whom I too love, but you more closely.
Iterum dices ’quorsus haec?’ Debuit ei pecuniam Valerius Varus. Huius est heres Maximus noster, quem et ipse amo, sed Konjunktivs tu.
I beg you, then — nay, I even demand it by the right of friendship — that you see to it my Atilius keeps safe not only the principal but the interest of many years. He is a man most abstinent of others’ goods, careful of his own; he is sustained by no profits, has no income but from his thrift.
Rogo ergo, exigo etiam pro iure amicitiae, cures ut Atilio meo salva sit non sors modo verum etiam usura plurium annorum. Homo est alieni abstinentissimus sui diligens; nullis quaestibus sustinetur, nullus illi nisi ex frugalitate reditus.
For his studies, in which he excels by far, he pursues only for pleasure and for glory. Even the smallest loss is heavy to him; and heavier still to repair what you have lost.
Nam studia, quibus plurimum praestat, ad voluptatem tantum et gloriam exercet. Gravis est ei vel minima iactura; quam quam reparare quod amiseris gravius.
Take this anxiety from him, take it from me: let me enjoy his sweetness, let me enjoy his charm. For I cannot bear to see him sad, whose cheerfulness does not suffer me to be sad.
Exime hunc illi, exime hunc mihi scrupulum: sine me suavitate eius, sine leporibus perfrui. Neque enim possum tristem videre, cuius hilaritas me tristem esse non patitur.
In sum, you know the man’s wit; which I would have you take care of, lest a wrong turn it to gall and bitterness. What force he has when offended, judge from the force he has in love. A great and free spirit will not bear loss together with insult.
In summa nosti facetias hominis; quas velim attendas, ne in bilem et amaritudinem vertat iniuria. Quam vim habeat offensus, crede ei quam in amore habet. Non feret magnum et liberum ingenium cum contumelia damnum.
But even if he should bear it, I shall reckon the loss and the insult mine — yet I shall be angry not as on my own behalf, that is, the more grievously. And yet why do I proceed by warnings and what amount to threats? Rather, as I had begun, I beg, I pray, give heed, lest he think himself neglected by me — which I most strongly fear — or I think myself neglected by you. And you will give heed, if this is as much a care to you as the other is to me. Farewell.
Verum, ut ferat ille, ego meum damnum meam contumeliam iudicabo, sed non tamquam pro mea - hoc est, gravius - irascar. Quamquam quid denuntiationibus et quasi minis ago? Quin potius, ut coeperam, rogo oro des operam, ne ille se - quod valdissime vereor - a me, ego me neglectum a te putem. Dabis autem, si hoc perinde curae est tibi quam illud mihi. Vale.
You commend to me Julius Naso, a candidate. Naso, to me? What if you commended my very self? Still, I bear it and forgive. For I should have commended the same man to you, had you been staying at Rome and I myself been away.
Commendas mihi Iulium Nasonem candidatum. Nasonem mihi? quid si me ipsum? Fero tamen et ignosco. Eundem enim commendassem tibi, si te Romae morante ipse afuissem.
Anxiety has this property, that it thinks everything necessary. Yet I advise you to ask others; I shall be the minister, the helper, the partaker of your prayers. Farewell.
Habet hoc sollicitudo, quod omnia necessaria putat. Tu tamen censeo alios roges; ego precum tuarum minister adiutor particeps ero. Vale.
When I had come to my mother-in-law’s villa at Alsium, which for a time belonged to Verginius Rufus, the place itself renewed in me, not without grief, the longing for that excellent and very great man. For he had been wont to cultivate this retreat, and even to call it the little nest of his old age.
Cum venissem in socrus meae villam Alsiensem, quae aliquamdiu Rufi Vergini fuit, ipse mihi locus optimi illius et maximi viri desiderium non sine dolore renovavit. Hunc enim colere secessum atque etiam senectutis suae nidulum vocare consueverat.
Wherever I betook myself, my mind, my eyes sought him. It pleased me, too, to see his monument; and I repented of having seen it.
Quocumque me contulissem, illum animus illum oculi requirebant. Libuit etiam monimentum eius videre, et vidisse paenituit.
For it is still unfinished — and the difficulty of the work is not the cause, modest, or rather scanty, as it is, but the inertia of the man to whom the charge was entrusted. Indignation rises in me, with pity, that after the tenth year from his death the remains and the neglected ash lie without an inscription, without a name — of one whose memory ranges the whole earth in glory.
Est enim adhuc imperfectum, nec difficultas operis in causa, modici ac potius exigui, sed inertia eius cui cura mandata est. Subit indignatio cum miseratione, post decimum mortis annum reliquias neglectumque cinerem sine titulo sine nomine iacere, cuius memoria orbem terrarum gloria pervagetur.
Here lies Rufus, who once, when Vindex was put down, claimed the sovereign power not for himself but for his country.
Hic situs est Rufus, pulso qui Vindice quondam imperium asseruit non sibi sed patriae.
So rare is fidelity in friendships, so ready the forgetting of the dead, that we ought ourselves to build even our own vaults and forestall all the offices of our heirs.
Tam rara in amicitiis fides, tam parata oblivio mortuorum, ut ipsi nobis debeamus etiam conditoria exstruere omniaque heredum officia praesumere.
For who has not cause to fear what we see has befallen Verginius? — whose wrong his very renown makes the more unworthy, as it makes it the more notorious. Farewell.
Nam cui non est verendum, quod videmus accidisse Verginio? cuius iniuriam ut indigniorem, sic etiam notiorem ipsius claritas facit. Vale.
O happy day! Called into council by the prefect of the city, I heard, pleading on opposite sides, two young men of the highest promise and the highest natural gifts, Fuscus Salinator and Ummidius Quadratus — a matchless pair, destined to be an ornament not only to our times but to letters themselves.
O diem laetum! Adhibitus in consilium a praefecto urbis audivi ex diverso agentes summae spei summae indolis iuvenes, Fuscum Salinatorem et Ummidium Quadratum, egregium par nec modo temporibus nostris sed litteris ipsis ornamento futurum.
In each, a wonderful uprightness, firmness unshaken, a becoming bearing, a Latin diction, a manly voice, a tenacious memory, great talent, a judgment to match; each of these was a delight to me, and among them this above all: that they themselves looked to me as a guide, as a master, and seemed, to those who heard, to be emulating me and treading in my footsteps.
Mira utrique probitas, constantia salva, decorus habitus, os Latinum, vox virilis, tenax memoria, magnum ingenium, iudicium aequale; quae singula mihi voluptati fuerunt, atque inter haec illud, quod et ipsi me ut rectorem, ut magistrum intuebantur, et iis qui audiebant me aemulari, meis instare vestigiis videbantur.
O happy day — for I will say it again — and one to be marked by me with the whitest stone! For what is, for the public, more gladdening than that the most distinguished young men should seek their name and fame from studies; or, for me, more to be wished than that I should be set up, as it were, as a model to those who strive toward the right?
O diem - repetam enim - laetum notandumque mihi candidissimo calculo! Quid enim aut publice laetius quam clarissimos iuvenes nomen et famam ex studiis petere, aut mihi optatius quam me ad recta tendentibus quasi exemplar esse propositum?
I pray the gods that I may take this joy forever unbroken; and from the same gods, with you as witness, I ask that all who think it worth so much to imitate me may wish to be better than I am. Farewell.
Quod gaudium ut perpetuo capiam deos oro; ab isdem teste te peto, ut omnes qui me imitari tanti putabunt meliores esse quam me velint. Vale.
You ought not, in truth, to commend to me with a hesitant hand those whom you think should be protected. For it both becomes you to do good to many and me to take up whatever pertains to your care.
Tu vero non debes suspensa manu commendare mihi quos tuendos putas. Nam et te decet multis prodesse et me suscipere quidquid ad curam tuam pertinet.
And so to Bittius Priscus I will render the very utmost I can, especially in my own arena — that is, before the centumviri.
Itaque Bittio Prisco quantum plurimum potuero praestabo, praesertim in harena mea, hoc est apud centumviros.
You bid me forget the letters which, as you say, you wrote me "with open heart"; yet of none do I more gladly keep the memory. For from them above all I feel how greatly you love me, since you have exacted of me what you used to exact of your own son.
Epistularum, quas mihi ut ais ’aperto pectore’ scripsisti, oblivisci me iubes; at ego nullarum libentius memini. Ex illis enim vel praecipue sentio, quanto opere me diligas, cum sic exegeris mecum, ut solebas cum tuo filio.
Nor do I conceal that they were the more delightful to me because I had a good case, having attended with the highest zeal to what you wished to be attended to.
Nec dissimulo hoc mihi iucundiores eas fuisse, quod habebam bonam causam, cum summo studio curassem quod tu curari volebas.
So again and again I beg you to scold me always with the same frankness, as often as I shall seem to be slack — "shall seem," I say, for I shall never be slack — that I may both understand it proceeds from the highest love, and that you may rejoice I did not deserve it. Farewell.
Proinde etiam atque etiam rogo, ut mihi semper eadem simplicitate, quotiens cessare videbor - ’videbor’ dico, numquam enim cessabo -, convicium facias, quod et ego intellegam a summo amore proficisci, et tu non meruisse me gaudeas. Vale.
Did you ever see anyone so harassed and put through his paces as my Varenus? — who had to defend, and as it were to seek anew, what he had obtained with the utmost effort.
Umquamne vidisti quemquam tam laboriosum et exercitum quam Varenum meum? cui quod summa contentione impetraverat defendendum et quasi rursus petendum fuit.
The Bithynians dared to carp at the decree of the senate and undermine it before the consuls, and even to bring a charge against it to the absent prince; remanded by him to the senate, they did not desist. Claudius Capito pleaded — with more irreverence than firmness, as a man who accused a decree of the senate before the senate.
Bithyni senatus consultum apud consules carpere ac labefactare sunt ausi, atque etiam absenti principi criminari; ab illo ad senatum remissi non destiterunt. Egit Claudius Capito irreverenter magis quam constanter, ut qui senatus consultum apud senatum accusaret.
Catius Fronto answered weightily and firmly. The senate itself was wonderful; for even those who before had refused Varenus what he sought voted that the same be granted, now that it had been granted;
Respondit Catius Fronto graviter et firme. Senatus ipse mirificus; nam illi quoque qui prius negarant Vareno quae petebat, eadem danda postquam erant data censuerunt;
for while the matter was whole, it was right for individuals to dissent, but once it was settled, what had pleased the greater number must be upheld by all.
singulos enim integra re dissentire fas esse, peracta quod pluribus placuisset cunctis tuendum.
Acilius Rufus alone, and with him seven or eight — seven, rather — persisted in the former opinion. There were in this little band not a few whose temporary gravity, or rather imitation of gravity, was laughed at.
Acilius tantum Rufus et cum eo septem an octo, septem immo, in priore sententia perseverarunt. Erant in hac paucitate non nulli, quorum temporaria gravitas vel potius gravitatis imitatio ridebatur.
Yet judge for yourself how much of the contest awaits us in the battle itself, when these skirmishes — a kind of prelude and forerunning of it — have stirred up such struggles. Farewell.
Tu tamen aestima, quantum nos in ipsa pugna certaminis maneat, cuius quasi praelusio atque praecursio has contentiones excitavit. Vale.
You press me to come to your place at Formiae. I will come, on this condition: that you do nothing against your own convenience; by which pact I likewise make provision for myself. For it is not the sea and the shore, but you, leisure, and freedom that I seek: otherwise it is better to remain in the city.
Sollicitas me in Formianum. Veniam ea condicione, ne quid contra commodum tuum facias; qua pactione invicem mihi caveo. Neque enim mare et litus, sed te otium libertatem sequor: alioqui satius est in urbe remanere.
For one must do everything either at another’s bidding or at one’s own. My stomach, at any rate, is of such a nature that it wants nothing but whole and unmixed. Farewell.
Oportet enim omnia aut ad alienum arbitrium aut ad suum facere. Mei certe stomachi haec natura est, ut nihil nisi totum et merum velit. Vale.
You were not present at a wonderful affair; neither was I, but a fresh story caught me up. Passennus Paulus, a distinguished Roman knight and, above all, a learned man, writes elegies. This is a family trait in him: for he is a townsman of Propertius, and even reckons Propertius among his ancestors.
Mirificae rei non interfuisti; ne ego quidem, sed me recens fabula excepit. Passennus Paulus, splendidus eques Romanus et in primis eruditus, scribit elegos. Gentilicium hoc illi: est enim municeps Properti atque etiam inter maiores suos Propertium numerat.
When he was reciting, he began to speak thus: "Priscus, you bid me...". At this Iavolenus Priscus — for he was present, as a most close friend of Paulus — said: "But I do not bid you." Imagine the men’s laughter, the jests.
Is cum recitaret, ita coepit dicere: ’Prisce, iubes...’. Ad hoc Iavolenus Priscus - aderat enim ut Paulo amicissimus -: ’Ego vero non iubeo.’ Cogita qui risus hominum, qui ioci.
Priscus is, to be sure, of doubtful sanity; yet he takes part in public duties, is called into councils, and even gives public responses on the civil law: so that what he then did was the more both ridiculous and remarkable.
Est omnino Priscus dubiae sanitatis, interest tamen officiis, adhibetur consiliis atque etiam ius civile publice respondet: quo magis quod tunc fecit et ridiculum et notabile fuit.
Meanwhile another man’s derangement brought a fair chill upon Paulus. So carefully must those who are about to recite provide not only that they themselves be sane, but that they bring sane men to hear them. Farewell.
Interim Paulo aliena deliratio aliquantum frigoris attulit. Tam sollicite recitaturis providendum est, non solum ut sint ipsi sani verum etiam ut sanos adhibeant. Vale.
You ask that I write you the death of my uncle, that you may the more truly hand it down to posterity. I thank you; for I see that an immortal glory is set before his death, if it be made famous by you.
Petis ut tibi avunculi mei exitum scribam, quo verius tradere posteris possis. Gratias ago; nam video morti eius si celebretur a te immortalem gloriam esse propositam.
For although he perished in the ruin of the loveliest of lands, by a memorable disaster, like the peoples and cities, as though destined always to live — and although he himself founded many works, and works that shall endure — yet much will the eternity of your writings add to his perpetuity.
Quamvis enim pulcherrimarum clade terrarum, ut populi ut urbes memorabili casu, quasi semper victurus occiderit, quamvis ipse plurima opera et mansura condiderit, multum tamen perpetuitati eius scriptorum tuorum aeternitas addet.
For my part I count those happy to whom it has been given, by the gift of the gods, either to do things worth the writing or to write things worth the reading; but happiest those to whom both are given. In their number my uncle will be, by his own books and by yours. The more gladly do I undertake — nay, even demand — what you lay upon me.
Equidem beatos puto, quibus deorum munere datum est aut facere scribenda aut scribere legenda, beatissimos vero quibus utrumque. Horum in numero avunculus meus et suis libris et tuis erit. Quo libentius suscipio, deposco etiam quod iniungis.
He was at Misenum, in person commanding the fleet by his authority. On the ninth day before the Kalends of September, about the seventh hour, my mother points out to him that a cloud was appearing, of unusual size and aspect.
Erat Miseni classemque imperio praesens regebat. Nonum Kal. Septembres hora fere septima mater mea indicat ei apparere nubem inusitata et magnitudine et specie.
He had taken his sun, then his cold bath, had snatched a bite lying down, and was at his studies; he calls for his sandals, climbs to a place from which that marvel could best be observed. A cloud was rising — uncertain, to those watching from afar, from what mountain; that it was Vesuvius was learned afterward — whose likeness and shape no tree would render better than a pine.
Usus ille sole, mox frigida, gustaverat iacens studebatque; poscit soleas, ascendit locum ex quo maxime miraculum illud conspici poterat. Nubes - incertum procul intuentibus ex quo monte; Vesuvium fuisse postea cognitum est - oriebatur, cuius similitudinem et formam non alia magis arbor quam pinus expresserit.
For raised on high as on a very long trunk, it spread out into certain branches — because, I suppose, carried up by the fresh blast and then, as that grew faint, left unsupported, or even overcome by its own weight, it thinned away into breadth — white at times, at times dirty and stained, according as it had carried up earth or ash.
Nam longissimo velut trunco elata in altum quibusdam ramis diffundebatur, credo quia recenti spiritu evecta, dein senescente eo destituta aut etiam pondere suo victa in latitudinem vanescebat, candida interdum, interdum sordida et maculosa prout terram cineremve sustulerat.
To a man of the greatest learning it seemed a great thing, and worth coming to know more nearly. He orders a Liburnian made ready; he gives me leave to come along, if I wished; I answered that I preferred to study, and, as it happened, he himself had given me something to write.
Magnum propiusque noscendum ut eruditissimo viro visum. Iubet liburnicam aptari; mihi si venire una vellem facit copiam; respondi studere me malle, et forte ipse quod scriberem dederat.
He was going out of the house when he receives a note from Rectina, wife of Tascus, terrified at the imminent peril — for her villa lay beneath the mountain, nor was there any escape but by ships —: she begged him to snatch her from so great a danger.
Egrediebatur domo; accipit codicillos Rectinae Tasci imminenti periculo exterritae - nam villa eius subiacebat, nec ulla nisi navibus fuga -: ut se tanto discrimini eriperet orabat.
He changes his plan, and what he had begun in the spirit of a student he carries through as a great man. He launches the quadriremes, embarks himself, to bring help not to Rectina alone but to many — for the loveliness of that coast was thronged.
Vertit ille consilium et quod studioso animo incohaverat obit maximo. Deducit quadriremes, ascendit ipse non Rectinae modo sed multis - erat enim frequens amoenitas orae - laturus auxilium.
He hastens thither whence others flee, and holds a straight course, the helm straight into the danger, so freed of fear that all the movements of that calamity, all its shapes, as he caught them with his eyes, he dictated and set down.
Properat illuc unde alii fugiunt, rectumque cursum recta gubernacula in periculum tenet adeo solutus metu, ut omnes illius mali motus omnes figuras ut deprenderat oculis dictaret enotaretque.
Now ash was falling on the ships, hotter and denser the nearer they drew; now pumice too, and stones black and scorched and cracked by fire; now a sudden shoal, and shores blocked by the mountain’s ruin. He hesitated a little whether to turn back; then, to the helmsman who advised him to do so, "Fortune favors the brave," he said: "make for Pomponianus."
Iam navibus cinis incidebat, quo propius accederent, calidior et densior; iam pumices etiam nigrique et ambusti et fracti igne lapides; iam vadum subitum ruinaque montis litora obstantia. Cunctatus paulum an retro flecteret, mox gubernatori ut ita faceret monenti ’Fortes’ inquit ’fortuna iuvat: Pomponianum pete.’
Pomponianus was at Stabiae, cut off by the mid-bay — for the sea pours in along shores that bend and curve by degrees —; there, though the danger was not yet drawing near, it was nonetheless in plain sight and, as it grew, close at hand, and he had carried his baggage onto the ships, resolved on flight if the contrary wind should fall. Borne in on this same wind, then most favorable, my uncle embraces the trembling man, comforts him, encourages him, and, to soothe his fear by his own composure, bids himself be carried down to the bath; washed, he reclines and dines, either cheerful or — what is no less great — like one cheerful.
Stabiis erat diremptus sinu medio - nam sensim circumactis curvatisque litoribus mare infunditur -; ibi quamquam nondum periculo appropinquante, conspicuo tamen et cum cresceret proximo, sarcinas contulerat in naves, certus fugae si contrarius ventus resedisset. Quo tunc avunculus meus secundissimo invectus, complectitur trepidantem consolatur hortatur, utque timorem eius sua securitate leniret, deferri in balineum iubet; lotus accubat cenat, aut hilaris aut - quod aeque magnum - similis hilari.
Meanwhile from Mount Vesuvius broad flames and high fires were blazing out in many places, whose glare and brightness the darkness of night made the keener. He, as a cure for their fear, kept saying that fires left by the country folk in their alarm, and abandoned villas, were burning in the solitude. Then he gave himself to rest, and rested in a sleep most genuine indeed; for the passage of his breath — which in him, from the bulk of his body, was rather heavy and loud — was heard by those who lingered at the threshold.
Interim e Vesuvio monte pluribus locis latissimae flammae altaque incendia relucebant, quorum fulgor et claritas tenebris noctis excitabatur. Ille agrestium trepidatione ignes relictos desertasque villas per solitudinem ardere in remedium formidinis dictitabat. Tum se quieti dedit et quievit verissimo quidem somno; nam meatus animae, qui illi propter amplitudinem corporis gravior et sonantior erat, ab iis qui limini obversabantur audiebatur.
But the courtyard from which the apartment was reached had now so risen, filled with ash mingled with pumice, that, were the delay in the chamber any longer, exit would be denied. Roused, he comes forth and gives himself back to Pomponianus and the others who had kept watch through the night.
Sed area ex qua diaeta adibatur ita iam cinere mixtisque pumicibus oppleta surrexerat, ut si longior in cubiculo mora, exitus negaretur. Excitatus procedit, seque Pomponiano ceterisque qui pervigilaverant reddit.
Together they take counsel whether to abide within doors or to roam in the open. For with the frequent and vast tremors the buildings rocked, and, as if torn from their foundations, seemed now this way, now that, to go off or be carried back.
In commune consultant, intra tecta subsistant an in aperto vagentur. Nam crebris vastisque tremoribus tecta nutabant, et quasi emota sedibus suis nunc huc nunc illuc abire aut referri videbantur.
Under the open sky, on the other hand, the fall of pumice — light and eaten away though it was — was feared; yet a weighing of the dangers chose this. With him reason overcame reason, with the others fear overcame fear. They bind pillows, set upon their heads, with linen cloths; this was their defense against what fell.
Sub dio rursus quamquam levium exesorumque pumicum casus metuebatur, quod tamen periculorum collatio elegit; et apud illum quidem ratio rationem, apud alios timorem timor vicit. Cervicalia capitibus imposita linteis constringunt; id munimentum adversus incidentia fuit.
Now it was day elsewhere, there a night blacker and denser than all nights; which, however, many torches and various lights relieved. It was resolved to go out onto the shore and see from close at hand whether the sea would now allow anything; but it still remained wild and contrary.
Iam dies alibi, illic nox omnibus noctibus nigrior densiorque; quam tamen faces multae variaque lumina solvebant. Placuit egredi in litus, et ex proximo adspicere, ecquid iam mare admitteret; quod adhuc vastum et adversum permanebat.
There, lying upon a spread linen cloth, he called once and again for cold water and drank it. Then flames, and the herald of flames, the smell of sulphur, turn the others to flight and rouse him.
Ibi super abiectum linteum recubans semel atque iterum frigidam aquam poposcit hausitque. Deinde flammae flammarumque praenuntius odor sulpuris alios in fugam vertunt, excitant illum.
Leaning on two slave-boys, he rose, and at once fell back — his breath, as I conclude, stopped by the thicker fume and his windpipe closed, which in him was by nature weak and narrow and often inflamed.
Innitens servolis duobus assurrexit et statim concidit, ut ego colligo, crassiore caligine spiritu obstructo, clausoque stomacho qui illi natura invalidus et angustus et frequenter aestuans erat.
When day was restored — the third from that he had last seen —, his body was found whole, unharmed, and covered as he had been clothed: the look of the body more like one at rest than one dead.
Ubi dies redditus - is ab eo quem novissime viderat tertius -, corpus inventum integrum illaesum opertumque ut fuerat indutus: habitus corporis quiescenti quam defuncto similior.
Meanwhile at Misenum, I and my mother — but this is nothing to the history, nor did you wish to know anything but of his death. I will make an end, then.
Interim Miseni ego et mater - sed nihil ad historiam, nec tu aliud quam de exitu eius scire voluisti. Finem ergo faciam.
One thing I will add: that I have pursued everything at which I was present, and which I heard at the very moment, when things are best remembered as true. You will pick out what is most telling; for it is one thing to write a letter, another a history, one thing to write for a friend, another for all. Farewell.
Unum adiciam, omnia me quibus interfueram quaeque statim, cum maxime vera memorantur, audieram, persecutum. Tu potissima excerpes; aliud est enim epistulam aliud historiam, aliud amico aliud omnibus scribere. Vale.
I cannot keep myself from pouring out to you by letter — since it did not fall to me to do so face to face — the little fit of indignation I took on in a certain friend’s recital-room. A most finished book was being read.
Indignatiunculam, quam in cuiusdam amici auditorio cepi, non possum mihi temperare quo minus apud te, quia non contigit coram, per epistulam effundam. Recitabatur liber absolutissimus.
Two or three men — eloquent, as they seem to themselves and to a few — listened to it like the deaf and dumb. They did not part their lips, did not stir a hand, did not so much as rise, even from weariness of sitting.
Hunc duo aut tres, ut sibi et paucis videntur, diserti surdis mutisque similes audiebant. Non labra diduxerunt, non moverunt manum, non denique assurrexerunt saltem lassitudine sedendi.
What is all this gravity? what all this wisdom? — nay, what sloth, what arrogance, what perversity, or rather what madness, to spend a whole day on this: to give offense, to leave as an enemy the man to whom you had come as the closest of friends? Are you yourself the more eloquent?
Quae tanta gravitas? quae tanta sapientia? quae immo pigritia arrogantia sinisteritas ac potius amentia, in hoc totum diem impendere ut offendas, ut inimicum relinquas ad quem tamquam amicissimum veneris? Disertior ipse es?
All the more, then, do not be envious; for whoever envies is the lesser. In short, whether you offer more, or less, or the same, give praise — to the inferior, the superior, or the equal: the superior, because unless he is praiseworthy you cannot be praised yourself; the inferior or the equal, because it bears on your own glory that the man you outstrip or match should seem as great as possible.
Tanto magis ne invideris; nam qui invidet minor est. Denique sive plus sive minus sive idem praestas, lauda vel inferiorem vel superiorem vel parem: superiorem quia nisi laudandus ille non potes ipse laudari, inferiorem aut parem quia pertinet ad tuam gloriam quam maximum videri, quem praecedis vel exaequas.
For my part I am wont to revere, and even to admire, all who accomplish anything in studies; for it is a thing difficult, arduous, fastidious, and one that despises in turn those by whom it is despised. Unless, perhaps, you judge otherwise. And yet who is more reverent than you alone toward this work, who a kinder appraiser of it?
Equidem omnes qui aliquid in studiis faciunt venerari etiam mirarique soleo; est enim res difficilis ardua fastidiosa, et quae cos a quibus contemnitur invicem contemnat. Nisi forte aliud iudicas tu. Quamquam quis uno te reverentior huius operis, quis benignior aestimator?
Led by this reasoning, I have disclosed my indignation above all to you, the man I could best have as a partner in it. Farewell.
Qua ratione ductus tibi potissimum indignationem meam prodidi, quem habere socium maxime poteram. Vale.
You ask that I plead the public cause of the people of Firmum; which, though I am stretched thin by very many occupations, I will strive to do. For I desire both to bind to myself a most distinguished colony by the service of advocacy, and to bind you by a service most welcome to you.
Rogas ut agam Firmanorum publicam causam; quod ego quamquam plurimis occupationibus distentus adnitar. Cupio enim et ornatissimam coloniam advocationis officio, et te gratissimo tibi munere obstringere.
For since you have taken up our intimacy, as you are wont to proclaim, for a defense and an ornament to yourself, there is nothing I ought to refuse you — especially when you ask on behalf of your homeland. For what is either more honorable than the prayers of the dutiful, or more effective than those of one who loves?
Nam cum familiaritatem nostram, ut soles praedicare, ad praesidium ornamentumque tibi sumpseris, nihil est quod negare debeam, praesertim pro patria petenti. Quid enim precibus aut honestius piis aut efficacius amantis?
Therefore pledge my faith to your people of Firmum — or rather now ours; that they are worthy of my labor and zeal both their own distinction and, above all, this assures: that men are credibly the best among whom you have shown yourself such as you are. Farewell.
Proinde Firmanis tuis ac iam potius nostris obliga fidem meam; quos labore et studio meo dignos cum splendor ipsorum tum hoc maxime pollicetur, quod credibile est optimos esse inter quos tu talis exstiteris. Vale.
Do you know that the price of lands has risen, especially of those near the city? The cause of the sudden dearness has been much canvassed in talk. At the last elections the senate gave voice to most honorable words: "Let candidates not feast, not send gifts, not deposit moneys."
Scis tu accessisse pretium agris, praecipue suburbanis? Causa subitae caritatis res multis agitata sermonibus. Proximis comitiis honestissimas voces senatus expressit: ’Candidati ne conviventur, ne mittant munera, ne pecunias deponant.’
Of these the first two were done as openly as they were immoderately; this third, though it was concealed, was held for certain.
Ex quibus duo priora tam aperte quam immodice fiebant; hoc tertium, quamquam occultaretur, pro comperto habebatur.
Then our Homullus, vigilantly seizing on this agreement of the senate, demanded, in his turn to speak, that the consuls make known the wish of all to the prince, and ask that, as he had met other vices, so by his foresight he meet this one too.
Homullus deinde noster vigilanter usus hoc consensu senatus sententiae loco postulavit, ut consules desiderium universorum notum principi facerent, peterentque sicut aliis vitiis huic quoque providentia sua occurreret.
He met it; for the candidates’ expenditures — those foul and infamous ones — he restrained by the law on bribery; the same men he ordered to invest a third part of their patrimony in things grounded on the soil, judging it unseemly — and so it was — that men about to seek office should treat the city and Italy not as their homeland but as an inn or a stable, like men on their travels.
Occurrit; nam sumptus candidatorum, foedos illos et infames, ambitus lege restrinxit; eosdem patrimonii tertiam partem conferre iussit in ea quae solo continerentur, deforme arbitratus - et erat - honorem petituros urbem Italiamque non pro patria sed pro hospitio aut stabulo quasi peregrinantes habere.
So the candidates run about; whatever they hear is for sale they vie to buy up, and by their buying make more things come up for sale.
Concursant ergo candidati; certatim quidquid venale audiunt emptitant, quoque sint plura venalia efficiunt.
Accordingly, if you repent of your Italian estates, this is the time to sell — by Hercules, as it is also to buy in the provinces, while the same candidates sell there to buy here. Farewell.
Proinde si paenitet te Italicorum praediorum, hoc vendendi tempus tam hercule quam in provinciis comparandi, dum idem candidati illic vendunt ut hic emant. Vale.
"Though the mind shudders to remember... I will begin."
’Quamquam animus meminisse horret,... incipiam.’
When my uncle had departed, I myself spent the remaining time on studies — for it was for that I had stayed behind; then a bath, dinner, and a sleep restless and brief.
Profecto avunculo ipse reliquum tempus studiis - ideo enim remanseram - impendi; mox balineum cena somnus inquietus et brevis.
There had gone before, for many days, a trembling of the earth, the less frightening because it was usual in Campania; but that night it grew so strong that all things seemed not so much to be moved as to be overturned.
Praecesserat per multos dies tremor terrae, minus formidolosus quia Campaniae solitus; illa vero nocte ita invaluit, ut non moveri omnia sed verti crederentur.
My mother burst into my chamber; I in turn was rising, meaning to wake her if she were asleep. We sat down in the courtyard of the house, which divided the sea from the buildings by a modest space.
Irrupit cubiculum meum mater; surgebam invicem, si quiesceret excitaturus. Resedimus in area domus, quae mare a tectis modico spatio dividebat.
I do not know whether I should call it constancy or imprudence — for I was in my eighteenth year —: I call for a book of Titus Livius, and read as though at leisure, and even go on excerpting, as I had begun. Behold, a friend of my uncle’s, who had lately come to him from Spain, when he sees me and my mother sitting, and me even reading, rebukes her patience and my unconcern. None the less intent was I upon my book.
Dubito, constantiam vocare an imprudentiam debeam - agebam enim duodevicensimum annum -: posco librum Titi Livi, et quasi per otium lego atque etiam ut coeperam excerpo. Ecce amicus avunculi qui nuper ad eum ex Hispania venerat, ut me et matrem sedentes, me vero etiam legentem videt, illius patientiam securitatem meam corripit. Nihilo segnius ego intentus in librum.
Now it was the first hour of the day, and still a doubtful and, as it were, languid daylight. The buildings round about being now shaken, though we were in an open place, yet a narrow one, there was great and certain dread of ruin.
Iam hora diei prima, et adhuc dubius et quasi languidus dies. Iam quassatis circumiacentibus tectis, quamquam in aperto loco, angusto tamen, magnus et certus ruinae metus.
Then at last it seemed good to leave the town; the crowd follows, dumbfounded, and — what in panic passes for prudence — prefers another’s counsel to its own, and in a huge column presses and drives us on as we depart.
Tum demum excedere oppido visum; sequitur vulgus attonitum, quodque in pavore simile prudentiae, alienum consilium suo praefert, ingentique agmine abeuntes premit et impellit.
Once clear of the houses we halt. There we suffer many marvels, many terrors. For the vehicles we had ordered brought out, though on the most level ground, were driven in opposite directions, and not even propped with stones would stay in the same track.
Egressi tecta consistimus. Multa ibi miranda, multas formidines patimur. Nam vehicula quae produci iusseramus, quamquam in planissimo campo, in contrarias partes agebantur, ac ne lapidibus quidem fulta in eodem vestigio quiescebant.
Besides, we saw the sea sucked back into itself and, as it were, driven off by the trembling of the earth. Certainly the shore had advanced, and held many creatures of the sea on the dry sands. On the other side a black and dreadful cloud, torn by the writhing and darting courses of fiery breath, gaped open into long shapes of flame; these were like lightnings, and greater.
Praeterea mare in se resorberi et tremore terrae quasi repelli videbamus. Certe processerat litus, multaque animalia maris siccis harenis detinebat. Ab altero latere nubes atra et horrenda, ignei spiritus tortis vibratisque discursibus rupta, in longas flammarum figuras dehiscebat; fulguribus illae et similes et maiores erant.
Then indeed that same friend from Spain, more sharply and insistently: "If your brother, your uncle, lives, he wishes you safe; if he has perished, he wished you to survive him. Why, then, do you delay to escape?" We answered that we would not, while uncertain of his safety, take thought for our own.
Tum vero idem ille ex Hispania amicus acrius et instantius ’Si frater’ inquit ’tuus, tuus avunculus vivit, vult esse vos salvos; si periit, superstites voluit. Proinde quid cessatis evadere?’ Respondimus non commissuros nos ut de salute illius incerti nostrae consuleremus.
He, waiting no longer, tears himself away and, at full run, carries himself out of the danger. Not long after, that cloud descends to the earth, covers the seas; it had girdled Capreae and hidden it, had carried off the headland of Misenum that juts out.
Non moratus ultra proripit se effusoque cursu periculo aufertur. Nec multo post illa nubes descendere in terras, operire maria; cinxerat Capreas et absconderat, Miseni quod procurrit abstulerat.
Then my mother began to beg, to urge, to command, that I flee in any way I could; that a young man could, but that she, heavy both with years and with body, would die content if she had not been the cause of my death. I, on the contrary, said I would not be safe unless together with her; then, taking her hand, I force her to quicken her pace. She obeys with difficulty, and reproaches herself for slowing me.
Tum mater orare hortari iubere, quoquo modo fugerem; posse enim iuvenem, se et annis et corpore gravem bene morituram, si mihi causa mortis non fuisset. Ego contra salvum me nisi una non futurum; dein manum eius amplexus addere gradum cogo. Paret aegre incusatque se, quod me moretur.
Now ash, though still thin. I look back: a dense fog loomed at our backs, which, poured over the earth like a torrent, kept following us. "Let us turn aside," I say, "while we can see, lest, thrown down in the road, we be crushed in the dark by the press of those who go with us."
Iam cinis, adhuc tamen rarus. Respicio: densa caligo tergis imminebat, quae nos torrentis modo infusa terrae sequebatur. ’Deflectamus’ inquam ’dum videmus, ne in via strati comitantium turba in tenebris obteramur.’
Scarcely had we sat down when night came — not such as is moonless or clouded, but such as in shut rooms when the light is put out. You might hear the wailing of women, the whimpering of infants, the shouting of men; some were seeking with their voices their parents, others their children, others their wives, and knowing them by their voices; some bewailed their own lot, others their dear ones’; there were those who, in fear of death, prayed for death;
Vix consideramus, et nox - non qualis illunis aut nubila, sed qualis in locis clausis lumine exstincto. Audires ululatus feminarum, infantum quiritatus, clamores virorum; alii parentes alii liberos alii coniuges vocibus requirebant, vocibus noscitabant; hi suum casum, illi suorum miserabantur; erant qui metu mortis mortem precarentur;
many lifted their hands to the gods, more declared that there were now no gods anywhere, and that this was the world’s eternal and final night. Nor were there wanting those who, with feigned and lying terrors, magnified the real perils. There were men at hand who reported — falsely, but to believers — that this part of Misenum had fallen, that part was ablaze.
multi ad deos manus tollere, plures nusquam iam deos ullos aeternamque illam et novissimam noctem mundo interpretabantur. Nec defuerunt qui fictis mentitisque terroribus vera pericula augerent. Aderant qui Miseni illud ruisse illud ardere falso sed credentibus nuntiabant.
A little light returned, which seemed to us not daylight but the herald of approaching fire. And the fire, indeed, halted at a distance; then darkness again, ash again, much and heavy. This, rising up again and again, we kept shaking off; otherwise we should have been buried and even crushed under the weight.
Paulum reluxit, quod non dies nobis, sed adventantis ignis indicium videbatur. Et ignis quidem longius substitit; tenebrae rursus cinis rursus, multus et gravis. Hunc identidem assurgentes excutiebamus; operti alioqui atque etiam oblisi pondere essemus.
I might boast that not a groan, not a word lacking courage, escaped me in such perils, had I not believed that I was perishing along with all, and all things along with me — a wretched yet great solace in my mortality.
Possem gloriari non gemitum mihi, non vocem parum fortem in tantis periculis excidisse, nisi me cum omnibus, omnia mecum perire misero, magno tamen mortalitatis solacio credidissem.
At last that fog thinned, as if into smoke or mist, and dispersed; soon came true day; the sun even shone out, but wan, as it is wont to be in an eclipse. Before our still-trembling eyes everything appeared changed, buried in deep ash as in snow.
Tandem illa caligo tenuata quasi in fumum nebulamve discessit; mox dies verus; sol etiam effulsit, luridus tamen qualis esse cum deficit solet. Occursabant trepidantibus adhuc oculis mutata omnia altoque cinere tamquam nive obducta.
Having returned to Misenum and tended our bodies as best we might, we passed an anxious and doubtful night between hope and fear. Fear prevailed; for the trembling of the earth went on, and very many, frenzied, mocked their own and others’ ills with terrible prophecies.
Regressi Misenum curatis utcumque corporibus suspensam dubiamque noctem spe ac metu exegimus. Metus praevalebat; nam et tremor terrae perseverabat, et plerique lymphati terrificis vaticinationibus et sua et aliena mala ludificabantur.
Yet not even then, though we had both tasted the danger and looked for more, was there any thought of going away, until news of my uncle should come. These things, in no way worthy of a history, you will read without any intention of writing them up; and you will, of course, lay the blame on yourself, who asked for them, if they shall seem not worthy even of a letter. Farewell.
Nobis tamen ne tunc quidem, quamquam et expertis periculum et exspectantibus, abeundi consilium, donec de avunculo nuntius. Haec nequaquam historia digna non scripturus leges et tibi scilicet qui requisisti imputabis, si digna ne epistula quidem videbuntur. Vale.
I am one of those who admire the ancients, yet I do not — as some do — despise the talents of our own age. For nature is not, as though weary and spent, now barren of anything praiseworthy.
Sum ex iis qui mirer antiquos, non tamen - ut quidam - temporum nostrorum ingenia despicio. Neque enim quasi lassa et effeta natura nihil iam laudabile parit.
Indeed, only lately I heard Vergilius Romanus read, before a few listeners, a comedy written on the model of the Old Comedy — so well written that it may itself one day be a model.
Atque adeo nuper audivi Vergilium Romanum paucis legentem comoediam ad exemplar veteris comoediae scriptam, tam bene ut esse quandoque possit exemplar.
I do not know whether you are acquainted with the man, though you ought to be; for he is conspicuous for uprightness of character, elegance of talent, and variety of works.
Nescio an noris hominem, quamquam nosse debes; est enim probitate morum, ingenii elegantia, operum varietate monstrabilis.
He has written mimiambics with delicacy, point, and charm, and in that kind most eloquently — for there is no kind that, brought to perfection, cannot be called eloquent. He has written comedies in rivalry with Menander and others of that age; you may number them among the plays of Plautus and Terence.
Scripsit mimiambos tenuiter argute venuste, atque in hoc genere eloquentissime; nullum est enim genus quod absolutum non possit eloquentissimum dici. Scripsit comoedias Menandrum aliosque aetatis eiusdem aemulatus; licet has inter Plautinas Terentianasque numeres.
Now for the first time he has shown himself in the Old Comedy, yet not as though he were beginning. He lacked nothing — not force, not grandeur, not subtlety, not bitterness, not sweetness, not charm: he adorned the virtues, he assailed the vices; with invented names he was decorous, with real ones, apt.
Nunc primum se in vetere comoedia, sed non tamquam inciperet ostendit. Non illi vis, non granditas, non subtilitas, non amaritudo, non dulcedo, non lepos defuit: ornavit virtutes, insectatus est vitia; fictis nominibus decenter, veris usus est apte.
Toward me alone he overstepped the measure with excessive kindness — except that, after all, poets are permitted to lie.
Circa me tantum benignitate nimia modum excessit, nisi quod tamen poetis mentiri licet.
In short, I will wrest the book from him and send it to you to read — nay, to learn by heart; for I do not doubt that, once you have taken it up, you will not lay it down. Farewell.
In summa extorquebo ei librum legendumque, immo ediscendum mittam tibi; neque enim dubito futurum, ut non deponas si semel sumpseris. Vale.
A great matter has been transacted, touching all who are to govern provinces, touching all who trust themselves frankly to friends.
Magna res acta est omnium qui sunt provinciis praefuturi, magna omnium qui se simpliciter credunt amicis.
Lustricius Bruttianus, when he had caught his companion Montanius Atticinus in many disgraceful acts, wrote to Caesar. Atticinus added to his disgraces by accusing the very man he had wronged. The inquiry was taken up; I was on the council. Each pleaded for himself, and pleaded piecemeal and under heads (κατὰ κεφάλαιον), the kind of pleading by which the truth is at once laid bare.
Lustricius Bruttianus cum Montanium Atticinum comitem suum in multis flagitiis deprehendisset, Caesari scripsit. Atticinus flagitiis addidit, ut quem deceperat accusaret. Recepta cognitio est; fui in consilio. Egit uterque pro se, egit autem carptim et κατὰ κεφάλαιον, quo genere veritas statim ostenditur.
Bruttianus produced his own will, which he said was written in Atticinus’s hand; for by this were shown both their secret intimacy and the necessity of complaining of one he had so loved.
Protulit Bruttianus testamentum suum, quod Atticini manu scriptum esse dicebat; hoc enim et arcana familiaritas et querendi de eo, quem sic amasset, necessitas indicabatur.
He enumerated charges foul and manifest; and when the other could not wash them away, he so retorted upon him that, while defending himself, he was proved base, and while accusing, criminal. For he had corrupted a slave who served as clerk, intercepted the records and cut them out, and through the utmost wickedness was using his own crime against his friend.
Enumeravit crimina foeda manifesta; quae ille cum diluere non posset, ita regessit, ut dum defenditur turpis, dum accusat sceleratus probaretur. Corrupto enim scribae servo interceperat commentarios intercideratque, ac per summum nefas utebatur adversus amicum crimine suo.
Caesar acted most admirably: for he put the question not about Bruttianus, but at once about Atticinus. He was condemned and banished to an island; to Bruttianus was rendered the most just testimony of integrity, and the glory of steadfastness besides attended him.
Fecit pulcherrime Caesar: non enim de Bruttiano, sed statim de Atticino perrogavit. Damnatus et in insulam relegatus; Bruttiano iustissimum integritatis testimonium redditum, quem quidem etiam constantiae gloria secuta est.
For, defended most readily, he accused vigorously, and showed himself no less keen than good and sincere.
Nam defensus expeditissime accusavit vehementer, nec minus acer quam bonus et sincerus apparuit.
I have written this to you in order to forewarn you, now that you have drawn a province by lot: trust yourself most, confide in no one enough; then know that, if anyone should perchance deceive you — which I pray against — vengeance lies ready. Yet, that there be no need of it, attend again and again;
Quod tibi scripsi, ut te sortitum provinciam praemonerem, plurimum tibi credas, nec cuiquam satis fidas, deinde scias si quis forte te - quod abominor - fallat, paratam ultionem. Qua tamen ne sit opus, etiam atque etiam attende;
for it is not so pleasant to be avenged as it is wretched to be deceived. Farewell.
neque enim tam iucundum est vindicari quam decipi miserum. Vale.
You earnestly beg me to plead a case that touches your charge — a fine one, besides, and much talked of. I will, but not for nothing. "How can it be," you say, "that you do it not for nothing?" It can: for I shall exact a fee more honorable than gratuitous advocacy.
Impense petis ut agam causam pertinentem ad curam tuam, pulchram alioqui et famosam. Faciam, sed non gratis. ’Qui fieri potest’ inquis ’ut non gratis tu?’ Potest: exigam enim mercedem honestiorem gratuito patrocinio.
I ask, and even make it a bargain, that Cremutius Ruso plead along with me. This is my custom, and one I have practiced now in the case of several distinguished young men; for I have a wonderful longing to bring good young men forward to the bar, to set them on the road to fame.
Peto atque etiam paciscor ut simul agat Cremutius Ruso. Solitum hoc mihi et iam in pluribus claris adulescentibus factitatum; nam mire concupisco bonos iuvenes ostendere foro, assignare famae.
And if I owe this to anyone, I owe it to my dear Ruso, both for his birth and for his exceeding affection toward me; whom I reckon it of great moment to have seen and heard in the same trials, and on the same side too.
Quod si cui, praestare Rusoni meo debeo, vel propter natales ipsius vel propter eximiam mei caritatem; quem magni aestimo in isdem iudiciis, ex isdem etiam partibus conspici audiri.
Oblige me — oblige me before he speaks; for once he has spoken, you will be the one to give thanks. I pledge that he will prove equal to your anxiety, to my hope, to the greatness of the case. He is of the finest natural gifts, and will soon be bringing others forward, if he is himself meanwhile advanced by us.
Obliga me, obliga ante quam dicat; nam cum dixerit gratias ages. Spondeo sollicitudini tuae, spei meae, magnitudini causae suffecturum. Est indolis optimae brevi producturus alios, si interim provectus fuerit a nobis.
For no one’s talent is so brilliant at once that it can emerge, unless it meets with subject matter, with opportunity, and with a patron and recommender besides. Farewell.
Neque enim cuiquam tam clarum statim ingenium ut possit emergere, nisi illi materia occasio, fautor etiam commendatorque contingat. Vale.
How much it matters by whom a thing is done! For the same deeds, by the renown or the obscurity of those who do them, are either exalted to the heights or sunk to the depths.
Quam multum interest quid a quoque fiat! Eadem enim facta claritate vel obscuritate facientium aut tolluntur altissime aut humillime deprimuntur.
I was sailing on our own Larius when an older friend pointed out to me a villa, and even a bedchamber that juts out over the lake: "From this," he said, "a townswoman of ours once flung herself, together with her husband."
Navigabam per Larium nostrum, cum senior amicus ostendit mihi villam, atque etiam cubiculum quod in lacum prominet: ’Ex hoc’ inquit ’aliquando municeps nostra cum marito se praecipitavit.’
I asked the cause. Her husband was rotting away from a long disease with ulcers about the body’s hidden parts; his wife insisted on inspecting them, for no one, she said, would tell him more faithfully whether he could be healed.
Causam requisivi. Maritus ex diutino morbo circa velanda corporis ulceribus putrescebat; uxor ut inspiceret exegit; neque enim quemquam fidelius indicaturum, possetne sanari.
She saw, she despaired, she urged him to die — and was herself the companion of his death; nay, its leader, its model, and its compeller. For she bound herself to her husband and cast herself into the lake.
Vidit desperavit hortata est ut moreretur, comesque ipsa mortis, dux immo et exemplum et necessitas fuit; nam se cum marito ligavit abiecitque in lacum.
This deed, even by me, a townsman, was heard of only lately — not because it is less than that most famous deed of Arria, but because she herself was less. Farewell.
Quod factum ne mihi quidem, qui municeps, nisi proxime auditum est, non quia minus illo clarissimo Arriae facto, sed quia minor ipsa. Vale.
You write that Robustus, a distinguished Roman knight, made the journey as far as Ocriculum in company with my friend Atilius Scaurus, and thereafter nowhere appeared; you ask that Scaurus come and set us, if he can, upon some traces for the inquiry.
Scribis Robustum, splendidum equitem Romanum, cum Atilio Scauro amico meo Ocriculum usque commune iter peregisse, deinde nusquam comparuisse; petis ut Scaurus veniat nosque, si potest, in aliqua inquisitionis vestigia inducat.
He will come; I fear, in vain. For I suspect that some such thing has befallen Robustus as once befell Metilius Crispus, a townsman of mine.
Veniet; vereor ne frustra. Suspicor enim tale nescio quid Robusto accidisse quale aliquando Metilio Crispo municipi meo.
For him I had obtained a commission, and on his setting out had even given him forty thousand sesterces to equip and fit himself out; nor afterward did I receive either letters from him or any word of his end.
Huic ego ordinem impetraveram atque etiam proficiscenti quadraginta milia nummum ad instruendum se ornandumque donaveram, nec postea aut epistulas eius aut aliquem de exitu nuntium accepi.
Whether he was made away with by his own people, or along with his own people, is in doubt: this much is certain, that neither he himself nor any of his slaves ever appeared again — just as none of Robustus’s did either.
Interceptusne sit a suis an cum suis dubium: certe non ipse, non quisquam ex servis eius apparuit, ut ne Robusti quidem.
Let us make the trial, nonetheless; let us summon Scaurus; let us grant this to your entreaties, grant it to the most honorable prayers of an excellent young man, who with marvelous devotion — and marvelous shrewdness too — seeks his father. May the gods grant that he so find the man himself as he has already found with whom he had been! Farewell.
Experiamur tamen, accersamus Scaurum; demus hoc tuis, demus optimi adulescentis honestissimis precibus, qui pietate mira mira etiam sagacitate patrem quaerit. Di faveant ut sic inveniat ipsum, quemadmodum iam cum quo fuisset invenit! Vale.
I rejoice and congratulate you, that you have betrothed your daughter to Fuscus Salinator. A patrician house, a most honorable father, a mother of equal praise; the man himself studious, lettered, eloquent besides — in simplicity a boy, in courtesy a young man, in gravity an old man. For I am not deceived by love.
Gaudeo et gratulor, quod Fusco Salinatori filiam tuam destinasti. Domus patricia, pater honestissimus, mater pari laude; ipse studiosus litteratus etiam disertus, puer simplicitate comitate iuvenis senex gravitate. Neque enim amore decipior.
I love him indeed without stint — so well has he earned it, by his attentions, by his deference — yet I judge him too, and the more keenly the more I love. And to you, as one who has put him to the test, I pledge that you will have a son-in-law than whom a better could not be fashioned even by a wish.
Amo quidem effuse - ita officiis ita reverentia meruit -, iudico tamen, et quidem tanto acrius quanto magis amo; tibique ut qui exploraverim spondeo, habiturum te generum quo melior fingi ne voto quidem potuit.
It remains only that he make you, as soon as may be, the grandfather of children like himself. How happy that time, when it shall fall to me to take from your bosom his children — your grandchildren — as though my own children or grandchildren, and to hold them by what is almost an equal right! Farewell.
Superest ut avum te quam maturissime similium sui faciat. Quam felix tempus illud, quo mihi liberos illius nepotes tuos, ut meos vel liberos vel nepotes, ex vestro sinu sumere et quasi pari iure tenere continget! Vale.
You ask me to consider what you, as consul designate, should propose in honor of the princeps. The finding is easy, the choosing not easy; for there is ample material in his virtues. Yet I will write — or, what I prefer, will tell you in person — if first I have set forth my own hesitation.
Rogas ut cogitem, quid designatus consul in honorem principis censeas. Facilis inventio, non facilis electio; est enim ex virtutibus eius larga materia. Scribam tamen vel - quod malo - coram indicabo, si prius haesitationem meam ostendero.
I doubt whether I ought to advise you the same as I did myself. As consul designate, I abstained from all this — if not flattery, at least the appearance of flattery — not as one free and steadfast, but as one who understood our princeps, whose chief praise, I saw, lay in this: that I should decree nothing as though out of necessity.
Dubito num idem tibi suadere quod mihi debeam. Designatus ego consul omni hac, etsi non adulatione, specie tamen adulationis abstinui, non tamquam liber et constans, sed tamquam intellegens principis nostri, cuius videbam hanc esse praecipuam laudem, si nihil quasi ex necessitate decernerem.
I recalled, too, that very many honors had been conferred on each worst of men, from whom this best of men could be marked off by nothing more than by a difference in the manner of proposing; and this very thing I did not pass over in dissimulation and silence, lest it might seem not a judgment of mine but forgetfulness.
Recordabar etiam plurimos honores pessimo cuique delatos, quibus hic optimus separari non alio magis poterat, quam diversitate censendi; quod ipsum non dissimulatione et silentio praeterii, ne forte non iudicium illud meum sed oblivio videretur.
This was my course then; but the same things do not please all, nor even suit them. Besides, the reckoning for doing or not doing a thing changes with the condition both of the men themselves and of affairs and of the times.
Hoc tunc ego; sed non omnibus eadem placent, ne conveniunt quidem. Praeterea faciendi aliquid non faciendive ratio cum hominum ipsorum tum rerum etiam ac temporum condicione mutatur.
For the recent works of our most great princeps furnish the means of proposing things new, great, and true. For which reasons, as I wrote above, I doubt whether I should now advise you the same as I then advised myself. Of this I have no doubt: that I ought to set down, as part of your deliberation, what I myself did. Farewell.
Nam recentia opera maximi principis praebent facultatem, nova magna vera censendi. Quibus ex causis, ut supra scripsi, dubito an idem nunc tibi quod tunc mihi suadeam. Illud non dubito, debuisse me in parte consilii tui ponere, quid ipse fecissem. Vale.
I know what cause was a hindrance to you, so that you could not outrun my arrival in Campania. But though absent you have wholly migrated hither: so great a store of provisions, both of town and of country, has been offered me in your name — all of which, shamelessly, I have nonetheless accepted.
Scio quae tibi causa fuerit impedimento, quominus praecurrere adventum meum in Campaniam posses. Sed quamquam absens totus huc migrasti: tantum mihi copiarum qua urbanarum qua rusticarum nomine tuo oblatum est, quas omnes improbe, accepi tamen.
For your people begged me to do so, and I feared that you would be angry both with me and with them, had I not. Henceforth, unless you set a measure, I will set one; and I have already given notice to your people that, if they bring so much again, they shall carry it all back.
Nam me tui ut ita facerem rogabant, et verebar ne et mihi et illis irascereris, si non fecissem. In posterum nisi adhibueritis modum ego adhibebo; et iam tuis denuntiavi, si rursus tam multa attulissent, omnia relaturos.
You will say that I ought to use your things as my own. Just so: but I spare yours as I do my own. Farewell.
Dices oportere me tuis rebus ut meis uti. Etiam: sed perinde illis ac meis parco. Vale.
Avidius Quietus, who loved me singularly and — wherein I rejoice no less — approved of me, used often to relate this, among much else, of Thrasea — for he was his intimate —: that he was wont to enjoin that the cases to be undertaken were those of friends, or those left destitute, or those bearing upon precedent.
Avidius Quietus, qui me unice dilexit et - quo non minus gaudeo - probavit, ut multa alia Thraseae - fuit enim familiaris - ita hoc saepe referebat, praecipere solitum suscipiendas esse causas aut amicorum aut destitutas aut ad exemplum pertinentes.
Why those of friends needs no interpretation. Why the destitute? Because in them especially both the steadfastness of the pleader and his humanity are discerned. Why those bearing upon precedent? Because it makes the greatest difference whether a good thing be brought in, or a bad.
Cur amicorum, non eget interpretatione. Cur destitutas? quod in illis maxime et constantia agentis et humanitas cerneretur. Cur pertinentes ad exemplum? quia plurimum referret, bonum an malum induceretur.
To these kinds of cases I will add — ambitiously, perhaps — the famous and the illustrious as well. For it is fair to plead now and then for glory and fame, that is, one’s own cause. These are the bounds I set, since you have consulted me, to your dignity and your modesty.
Ad haec ego genera causarum ambitiose fortasse, addam tamen claras et illustres. Aequum est enim agere non numquam gloriae et famae, id est suam causam. Hos terminos, quia me consuluisti, dignitati ac verecundiae tuae statuo.
Nor does it escape me that practice both is, and is held to be, the best teacher of speaking; I see, too, that many of small talent and no letters have, by pleading, come to plead well.
Nec me praeterit usum et esse et haberi optimum dicendi magistrum; video etiam multos parvo ingenio litteris nullis, ut bene agerent agendo consecutos.
But that saying also, which I had as either Pollio’s or as though Pollio’s, I find by experience most true: "By pleading well it came about that I pleaded often; by pleading often, that I pleaded less well" — because, of course, by excessive assiduity one gains facility rather than capacity, and not confidence but rashness.
Sed et illud, quod vel Pollionis vel tamquam Pollionis accepi, verissimum experior: ’Commode agendo factum est ut saepe agerem, saepe agendo ut minus commode’, quia scilicet assiduitate nimia facilitas magis quam facultas, nec fiducia sed temeritas paratur.
Nor indeed did it hinder Isocrates from being held the greatest orator, that by weakness of voice and shyness of countenance he was kept from speaking in public. Therefore read much, write, meditate, that you may be able to speak when you will: you will speak when you must will to.
Nec vero Isocrati quo minus haberetur summus orator offecit, quod infirmitate vocis mollitia frontis ne in publico diceret impediebatur. Proinde multum lege scribe meditare, ut possis cum voles dicere: dices cum velle debebis.
This temperance, roughly, I have myself observed; now and then I have obeyed necessity, which is itself a part of reason. For I have pleaded certain cases at the senate’s bidding, which were nonetheless of that division of Thrasea’s — that is, bearing upon precedent.
Hoc fere temperamentum ipse servavi; non numquam necessitati quae pars rationis est parui. Egi enim quasdam a senatu iussus, quo tamen in numero fuerunt ex illa Thraseae divisione, hoc est ad exemplum pertinentes.
I stood with the people of Baetica against Baebius Massa: the question was raised whether an inquiry should be granted; it was granted. I stood again with the same people, complaining of Caecilius Classicus: the question was raised whether the provincials ought to be punished as the allies and ministers of the proconsul; they paid the penalty.
Adfui Baeticis contra Baebium Massam: quaesitum est, an danda esset inquisitio; data est. Adfui rursus isdem querentibus de Caecilio Classico: quaesitum est, an provinciales ut socios ministrosque proconsulis plecti oporteret; poenas luerunt.
I accused Marius Priscus, who, condemned under the law of extortion, was availing himself of the law’s clemency, whose severity he had outstripped by the monstrousness of his crimes; he was banished.
Accusavi Marium Priscum, qui lege repetundarum damnatus utebatur clementia legis, cuius severitatem immanitate criminum excesserat; relegatus est.
I defended Julius Bassus — a man too unguarded and incautious, yet in no way wicked; judges being assigned, he remained in the senate.
Tuitus sum Iulium Bassum, ut incustoditum nimis et incautum, ita minime malum; iudicibus acceptis in senatu remansit.
I spoke lately for Varenus, who demanded that it be allowed him in turn to summon witnesses; it was obtained. For the future I pray that I may be bidden chiefly to do those things which it would become me to have done even unbidden. Farewell.
Dixi proxime pro Vareno postulante, ut sibi invicem evocare testes liceret; impetratum est. In posterum opto ut ea potissimum iubear, quae me deceat vel sponte fecisse. Vale.
We ought, by Hercules, to celebrate your birthdays just as our own, since the gladness of ours hangs upon yours — by whose diligence and care we are cheerful here, untroubled there.
Debemus mehercule natales tuos perinde ac nostros celebrare, cum laetitia nostrorum ex tuis pendeat, cuius diligentia et cura hic hilares istic securi sumus.
The Camillian villa, which you possess in Campania, is indeed battered by age; and yet the more precious parts of it either remain whole or have been very lightly harmed.
Villa Camilliana, quam in Campania possides, est quidem vetustate vexata; et tamen, quae sunt pretiosiora, aut integra manent aut levissime laesa sunt.
We are taking care, therefore, that they be repaired as soundly as may be. I seem to have many friends, but of the kind that you seek and the matter requires, almost none.
Attendimus ergo, ut quam saluberrime reficiantur. Ego videor habere multos amicos, sed huius generis, cuius et tu quaeris et res exigit, prope neminem.
For they are all men of the toga and of the city; the management of rustic estates demands some hard and rustic man, to whom neither that labor seems heavy, nor the care mean, nor the solitude dismal.
Sunt enim omnes togati et urbani; rusticorum autem praediorum administratio poscit durum aliquem et agrestem, cui nec labor ille gravis nec cura sordida nec tristis solitudo videatur.
You think most honorably of Rufus; for he was an intimate of your son. What he can render us there, however, I do not know; that he wishes to, I well believe. Farewell.
Tu de Rufo honestissime cogitas; fuit enim filio tuo familiaris. Quid tamen nobis ibi praestare possit ignoro, velle plurimum credo. Vale.
Summoned to the council by our Caesar at Centum Cellae — for that is the name of the place — I took great pleasure.
Evocatus in consilium a Caesare nostro ad Centum Cellas - hoc loco nomen -, magnam cepi voluptatem.
For what is more delightful than to behold the justice, the gravity, the affability of the princeps even in his retreat, where these are most laid open? There were inquiries of various kinds, and such as might prove the virtues of the judge through several aspects.
Quid enim iucundius quam principis iustitiam gravitatem comitatem in secessu quoque ubi maxime recluduntur inspicere? Fuerunt variae cognitiones et quae virtutes iudicis per plures species experirentur.
Claudius Aristo pleaded his cause, the leading man of the Ephesians, a man munificent and innocently popular; thence came envy, and an informer was loosed upon him by men most unlike himself; and so he was acquitted and vindicated.
Dixit causam Claudius Ariston princeps Ephesiorum, homo munificus et innoxie popularis; inde invidia et a dissimillimis delator immissus, itaque absolutus vindicatusque est.
On the following day Gallitta was heard, accused of adultery. Married to a military tribune who was about to seek office, she had stained both her own and her husband’s dignity by love of a centurion. The husband had written to the consular legate, the legate to Caesar.
Sequenti die audita est Gallitta adulterii rea. Nupta haec tribuno militum honores petituro, et suam et mariti dignitatem centurionis amore maculaverat. Maritus legato consulari, ille Caesari scripserat.
Caesar, the proofs being sifted, cashiered the centurion and even banished him. There remained, for a crime that could not be of one party alone, the other half of the vengeance; but the husband, not without some reproach for his forbearance, was held back by love of his wife, whom indeed, even after the adultery was reported, he had kept at home, as though content to have removed his rival.
Caesar excussis probationibus centurionem exauctoravit atque etiam relegavit. Supererat crimini, quod nisi duorum esse non poterat, reliqua pars ultionis; sed maritum non sine aliqua reprehensione patientiae amor uxoris retardabat, quam quidem etiam post delatum adulterium domi habuerat quasi contentus aemulum removisse.
Admonished to carry the accusation through, he carried it through unwillingly. But she had to be condemned even against her accuser’s will: she was condemned, and left to the penalties of the Julian law. Caesar added to the sentence both the centurion’s name and a mention of military discipline, lest he should seem to be recalling all cases of that kind to himself.
Admonitus ut perageret accusationem, peregit invitus. Sed illam damnari etiam invito accusatore necesse erat: damnata et Iuliae legis poenis relicta est. Caesar et nomen centurionis et commemorationem disciplinae militaris sententiae adiecit, ne omnes eius modi causas revocare ad se videretur.
On the third day was brought in an inquiry much tossed about in many conversations and varied rumor — the codicils of Julius Tiro, which were agreed to be in part genuine, in part alleged to be forged.
Tertio die inducta cognitio est multis sermonibus et vario rumore iactata, Iuli Tironis codicilli, quos ex parte veros esse constabat, ex parte falsi dicebantur.
Charged with the crime, by substitution, were Sempronius Senecio, a Roman knight, and Eurythmus, Caesar’s freedman and procurator. The heirs, while Caesar was in Dacia, had by a joint letter petitioned that he undertake the inquiry.
Substituebantur crimini Sempronius Senecio eques Romanus et Eurythmus Caesaris libertus et procurator. Heredes, cum Caesar esset in Dacia, communiter epistula scripta, petierant ut susciperet cognitionem.
He had undertaken it; returning, he had set a day, and when some of the heirs were dropping the accusation, as though out of reverence for Eurythmus, he had said most admirably: "He is no Polyclitus, nor am I a Nero." Yet he had indulged the petitioners with a postponement, and, its time run out, had sat down to hear the case.
Susceperat; reversus diem dederat, et cum ex heredibus quidam quasi reverentia Eurythmi omitterent accusationem, pulcherrime dixerat: ’Nec ille Polyclitus est nec ego Nero.’ Indulserat tamen petentibus dilationem, cuius tempore exacto consederat auditurus.
On the heirs’ side just two came in at all; they demanded either that all the heirs be compelled to plead, since all had laid the charge, or that leave be granted them too to desist.
A parte heredum intraverunt duo omnino; postulaverunt, omnes heredes agere cogerentur, cum detulissent omnes, aut sibi quoque desistere permitteretur.
Caesar spoke with the utmost gravity and the utmost moderation, and when the advocate of Senecio and Eurythmus had said that the defendants were being left under suspicion unless they were heard, "I do not care," he said, "whether those men are left under suspicion; I am left under it."
Locutus est Caesar summa gravitate summa moderatione, cumque advocatus Senecionis et Eurythmi dixisset suspicionibus relinqui reos, nisi audirentur, ’Non curo’ inquit ’an isti suspicionibus relinquantur, ego relinquor.’
Then, turning to us: "Consider (Ἐπιστήσατε) what we ought to do; for these men wish to complain that they have been permitted not to be accused." Then, by the council’s judgment, he ordered notice to be given to all the heirs, that they either plead, or each one make good his reasons for not pleading; otherwise he would pronounce even upon a charge of malicious accusation.
Dein conversus ad nos: Ἐπιστήσατε quid facere debeamus; isti enim queri volunt quod sibi licuerit non accusari.’ Tum ex consilii sententia iussit denuntiari heredibus omnibus, aut agerent aut singuli approbarent causas non agendi; alioqui se vel de calumnia pronuntiaturum.
You see how honorable, how severe the days; which most delightful relaxations followed. We were brought daily to dinner; it was modest, if you thought of the princeps. Sometimes we listened to recitals, sometimes the night was drawn out with most delightful conversations.
Vides quam honesti, quam severi dies; quos iucundissimae remissiones sequebantur. Adhibebamur cotidie cenae; erat modica, si principem cogitares. Interdum acroamata audiebamus, interdum iucundissimis sermonibus nox ducebatur.
On the last day, as we departed, gifts were sent us — so attentive is the kindness in Caesar. But to me, as the gravity of the inquiries, the honor of the council, the sweetness and simplicity of the company, so the place itself was exceedingly pleasant.
Summo die abeuntibus nobis - tam diligens in Caesare humanitas - xenia sunt missa. Sed mihi ut gravitas cognitionum, consilii honor, suavitas simplicitasque convictus, ita locus ipse periucundus fuit.
A most beautiful villa is girdled by greenest fields, and overhangs the shore, in whose bay a harbor is at this very moment being formed. Its left arm is fortified with most solid work, the right is now being labored at.
Villa pulcherrima cingitur viridissimis agris, imminet litori, cuius in sinu fit cum maxime portus. Huius sinistrum brachium firmissimo opere munitum est, dextrum elaboratur.
In the harbor’s mouth an island rises up, which, set against the sea that the wind drives in, may break it, and afford ships a safe passage on either side. It rises, moreover, by an art worth the seeing: a very broad vessel carries huge stones up to the spot opposite; these, cast down one upon another, hold fast by their own weight, and little by little are built up into a kind of mole.
In ore portus insula assurgit, quae illatum vento mare obiacens frangat, tutumque ab utroque latere decursum navibus praestet. Assurgit autem arte visenda: ingentia saxa latissima navis provehit contra; haec alia super alia deiecta ipso pondere manent ac sensim quodam velut aggere construuntur.
Already a rocky ridge stands out and shows itself, and dashes the waves that strike it and flings them up to an immense height; there is a vast roar, and the sea white all around. To the stones will then be added piers, which in time to come may counterfeit an island grown there of itself. This harbor will bear — nay, already bears — the name of its author, and will be most salutary; for over a very long stretch a harborless shore will have this refuge to use. Farewell.
Eminet iam et apparet saxeum dorsum impactosque fluctus in immensum elidit et tollit; vastus illic fragor canumque circa mare. Saxis deinde pilae adicientur quae procedente tempore enatam insulam imitentur. Habebit hic portus, et iam habet nomen auctoris, eritque vel maxime salutaris; nam per longissimum spatium litus importuosum hoc receptaculo utetur. Vale.
Although you are yourself most temperate, and have brought up your daughter as befitted a daughter of yours, the granddaughter of Tutilius, yet since she is nonetheless about to marry a most honorable man, Nonius Celer — on whom the conduct of civic offices lays a certain necessity of splendor — she ought, in keeping with her husband’s station, to make use of dress and attendance, by which her dignity is not indeed increased, yet is adorned and furnished out.
Quamvis et ipse sis continentissimus, et filiam tuam ita institueris ut decebat tuam filiam, Tutili neptem, cum tamen sit nuptura honestissimo viro Nonio Celeri, cui ratio civilium officiorum necessitatem quandam nitoris imponit, debet secundum condicionem mariti uti veste comitatu, quibus non quidem augetur dignitas, ornatur tamen et instruitur.
Moreover I know you to be most blessed in spirit, but modest in means. And so I claim for myself a part of your burden, and, as a second parent, confer upon our girl fifty thousand sesterces — and would confer more, did I not trust that only by the smallness of the little gift could it be wrung from your modesty that you should not refuse. Farewell.
Te porro animo beatissimum, modicum facultatibus scio. Itaque partem oneris tui mihi vindico, et tamquam parens alter puellae nostrae confero quinquaginta milia nummum plus collaturus, nisi a verecundia tua sola mediocritate munusculi impetrari posse confiderem, ne recusares. Vale.
"Take away all things," he says, "and remove the labors begun!" Whether you are writing something or reading, bid it be taken and removed, and receive my speech as one would those divine arms — could I be prouder? — yet in truth as a beautiful one among my own; for it is enough for me to vie with myself.
’Tollite cuncta’ inquit ’coeptosque auferte labores!’ Seu scribis aliquid seu legis, tolli auferri iube et accipe orationem meam ut illa arma divinam - num superbius potui? -, re vera ut inter meas pulchram; nam mihi satis est certare mecum.
This is the speech for Attia Viriola, notable both for the rank of the person, and for the rarity of the precedent, and for the magnitude of the trial. For a woman splendidly born, married to a man of praetorian rank, disinherited by her octogenarian father within eleven days after he, seized with love, had brought a stepmother in upon her, was reclaiming her father’s goods before a fourfold court.
Est haec pro Attia Viriola, et dignitate personae et exempli raritate et iudicii magnitudine insignis. Nam femina splendide nata, nupta praetorio viro, exheredata ab octogenario patre intra undecim dies quam illi novercam amore captus induxerat, quadruplici iudicio bona paterna repetebat.
There sat one hundred and eighty judges — for so many are gathered in the four panels — a great body of advocates on either side and benches packed; besides, a dense ring of bystanders encircled the very wide court in many a coil.
Sedebant centum et octoginta iudices - tot enim quattuor consiliis colliguntur -, ingens utrimque advocatio et numerosa subsellia, praeterea densa circumstantium corona latissimum iudicium multiplici circulo ambibat.
To this add the crowded tribunal, and from the upper part of the basilica too both women and men leaning over, eager — what was hard — to hear, and — what was easy — to see. Great was the expectation of fathers, great of daughters, great too of stepmothers.
Ad hoc stipatum tribunal, atque etiam ex superiore basilicae parte qua feminae qua viri et audiendi - quod difficile - et - quod facile - visendi studio imminebant. Magna exspectatio patrum, magna filiarum, magna etiam novercarum.
A various outcome followed; for in two panels we won, in as many we were beaten. Remarkable indeed and strange, in the same cause, with the same judges, the same advocates, at the same time, so great a diversity.
Secutus est varius eventus; nam duobus consiliis vicimus, totidem victi sumus. Notabilis prorsus et mira eadem in causa, isdem iudicibus, isdem advocatis, eodem tempore tanta diversitas.
It happened by a chance that might seem no chance: the stepmother was beaten, herself heir to a sixth part; beaten was Suburanus, who, disinherited by his own father, with singular shamelessness laid claim to another father’s goods, not daring to seek his own.
Accidit casu, quod non casus videretur: victa est noverca, ipsa heres ex parte sexta, victus Suburanus, qui exheredatus a patre singulari impudentia alieni patris bona vindicabat, non ausus sui petere.
These things I have set out to you, first that you might learn from the letter what you could not from the speech, and then — for I will lay bare my arts — that you might read the speech the more gladly, if you should seem to yourself not to be reading it but to be present at the trial; which speech, large though it be, I do not despair of winning the favor due a very short one.
Haec tibi exposui, primum ut ex epistula scires, quae ex oratione non poteras, deinde - nam detegam artes - ut orationem libentius legeres, si non legere tibi sed interesse iudicio videreris; quam, sit licet magna, non despero gratiam brevissimae impetraturam.
For it is kept fresh by abundance of matter, by shrewd division, by several little narratives, and by variety of expression. There are many passages — I would not dare say it save to you — lofty, many combative, many subtle.
Nam et copia rerum et arguta divisione et narratiunculis pluribus et eloquendi varietate renovatur. Sunt multa - non auderem nisi tibi dicere - elata, multa pugnacia, multa subtilia.
For amid those keen and uplifted parts there intervened a frequent necessity of reckoning, of all but calling for counters and the abacus, so that of a sudden the centumviral court was turned into the shape of a private suit.
Intervenit enim acribus illis et erectis frequens necessitas computandi ac paene calculos tabulamque poscendi, ut repente in privati iudicii formam centumvirale vertatur.
We gave sail to indignation, gave it to anger, gave it to grief, and in a most ample cause, as upon a great sea, were carried by many winds.
Dedimus vela indignationi, dedimus irae, dedimus dolori, et in amplissima causa quasi magno mari pluribus ventis sumus vecti.
In short, some of our company are wont to reckon this speech — I will say it again — among my own as my "On Behalf of Ctesiphon" (ὑπὲρ Κτησιφῶντος): whether truly, you will most easily judge, who hold them all so by heart that, while you read this one alone, you can compare it with that. Farewell.
In summa solent quidam ex contubernalibus nostris existimare hanc orationem - iterum dicam - ut inter meas ὑπὲρ κτησιφῶντος esse: an vere, tu facillime iudicabis, qui tam memoriter tenes omnes, ut conferre cum hac dum hanc solam legis possis. Vale.
You did rightly in promising a gladiatorial show to our people of Verona, by whom you have long been loved, looked up to, honored. From there, too, you had a wife most dear to you and most approved, to whose memory was owed either some work or some spectacle — and this above all, which best befits a funeral.
Recte fecisti quod gladiatorium munus Veronensibus nostris promisisti, a quibus olim amaris suspiceris ornaris. Inde etiam uxorem carissimam tibi et probatissimam habuisti, cuius memoriae aut opus aliquod aut spectaculum atque hoc potissimum, quod maxime funeri, debebatur.
Besides, you were asked with such accord that to refuse would have seemed not steadfast but harsh. In this too you bore yourself admirably, that you were so ready, so liberal in the giving; for through such things a great soul is also shown.
Praeterea tanto consensu rogabaris, ut negare non constans, sed durum videretur. Illud quoque egregie, quod tam facilis tam liberalis in edendo fuisti; nam per haec etiam magnus animus ostenditur.
I could have wished that the African beasts, of which you had bought a great many, had arrived by the appointed day: but although they failed, detained by a storm, you nonetheless deserved that it be set to your credit, since it stood not through you that you did not exhibit them. Farewell.
Vellem Africanae, quas coemeras plurimas, ad praefinitum diem occurrissent: sed licet cessaverint illae tempestate detentae, tu tamen meruisti ut acceptum tibi fieret, quod quo minus exhiberes, non per te stetit. Vale.
This so stubborn ill-health of yours alarms me, and although I know you to be most temperate, yet I fear lest the sickness gain some license even over your character.
Terret me haec tua tam pertinax valetudo, et quamquam te temperantissimum noverim, vereor tamen ne quid illi etiam in mores tuos liceat.
Therefore I urge you to resist it patiently: this is praiseworthy, this is salutary. Human nature admits what I advise.
Proinde moneo patienter resistas: hoc laudabile hoc salutare. Admittit humana natura quod suadeo.
I myself at least, when well, am wont to deal thus with my household: "I hope indeed, if I should chance to fall into bad health, that I shall desire nothing for which I need feel shame or repentance; but if the disease prevails, I give notice that you give me nothing save with the physicians’ leave, and know that, if you do give it, I shall avenge it as others are wont to avenge what is refused them."
Ipse certe sic agere sanus cum meis soleo: ’Spero quidem, si forte in adversam valetudinem incidero, nihil me desideraturum vel pudore vel paenitentia dignum; si tamen superaverit morbus, denuntio ne quid mihi detis, nisi permittentibus medicis, sciatisque si dederitis ita vindicaturum, ut solent alii quae negantur.’
Indeed, once when I was burning with a most fierce fever and, the fit at last abating, had been anointed and was taking a draught from the physician, I held out my hand, and bade him touch it, and gave back the cup already brought to my lips.
Quin etiam cum perustus ardentissima febre, tandem remissus unctusque, acciperem a medico potionem, porrexi manum utque tangeret dixi, admotumque iam labris poculum reddidi.
Afterward, when on the twentieth day of my illness I was being made ready for the bath, and had suddenly seen the physicians muttering, I asked the reason. They answered that I could bathe safely, yet not altogether without some misgiving.
Postea cum vicensimo valetudinis die balineo praepararer, mussantesque medicos repente vidissem, causam requisivi. Responderunt posse me tuto lavari, non tamen omnino sine aliqua suspicione.
"What need of it?" said I; and so, calmly and gently giving up the hope of the bath, into which I already seemed to be borne, I composed my mind and countenance to abstinence again, just as a moment before to the bath.
’Quid’ inquam ’necesse est?’ atque ita spe balinei, cui iam videbar inferri, placide leniterque dimissa, ad abstinentiam rursus, non secus ac modo ad balineum, animum vultumque composui.
These things I have written to you, first that I might admonish you not without an example, and then that for the future I might bind myself to the same temperance, since by this letter I have pledged myself as by a surety. Farewell.
Quae tibi scripsi, primum ut te non sine exemplo monerem, deinde ut in posterum ipse ad eandem temperantiam astringerer, cum me hac epistula quasi pignore obligavissem. Vale.
How does it agree, that you should at once both assert you are hindered by ceaseless occupations, and yet long for my writings, which the leisured can scarcely spare a little of their perishable time to obtain?
Quemadmodum congruit, ut simul et affirmes te assiduis occupationibus impediri, et scripta nostra desideres, quae vix ab otiosis impetrare aliquid perituri temporis possunt?
I will let the summer pass, then, restless and harassed as it is for you, and only in winter, when it will be credible that you can be free at least by night, will I seek out what of my trifles I had best lay before you.
Patiar ergo aestatem inquietam vobis exercitamque transcurrere, et hieme demum, cum credibile erit noctibus saltem vacare te posse, quaeram quid potissimum ex nugis meis tibi exhibeam.
Meanwhile it is enough if my letters are not a burden; but they are — and so they shall be shorter. Farewell.
Interim abunde est si epistulae non sunt molestae; sunt autem et ideo breviores erunt. Vale.
Such persistence — now in Lucania, now in Campania? "For I myself," you say, "am a Lucanian, my wife a Campanian."
Tantane perseverantia tu modo in Lucania, modo in Campania? ’Ipse enim’ inquis ’Lucanus, uxor Campana.’
A just cause for a longer absence, yet not a perpetual one. Why then do you not at some time return to the city? where there is rank, office, friendships both with your superiors and with your inferiors. How long will you reign? how long wake when you will, sleep as long as you will? how long no shoes anywhere, the toga on holiday, the whole day free?
Iusta causa longioris absentiae, non perpetuae tamen. Quin ergo aliquando in urbem redis? ubi dignitas honor amicitiae tam superiores quam minores. Quousque regnabis? quousque vigilabis cum voles, dormies quamdiu voles? quousque calcei nusquam, toga feriata, liber totus dies?
It is time you revisited our troubles, if only for this — that those pleasures of yours not grow faint with surfeit. Pay court a little while, that it may be the pleasanter to be courted; wear yourself in this crowd, that solitude may delight you.
Tempus est te revisere molestias nostras, vel ob hoc solum ne voluptates istae satietate languescant. Saluta paulisper, quo sit tibi iucundius salutari; terere in hac turba, ut te solitudo delectet.
But why, unwary, do I hold back the very man I am trying to summon? For perhaps by these very words you are warned to wrap yourself more and more in leisure; which I would not have broken off, but interrupted.
Sed quid imprudens quem evocare conor retardo? Fortasse enim his ipsis admoneris, ut te magis ac magis otio involvas; quod ego non abrumpi sed intermitti volo.
For as, if I were making you a dinner, I would mix sharp and pungent dishes with the sweet, that the palate, dulled and cloyed by the one, might be roused by the other, so now I urge that you season that most delightful kind of life now and then with some such tartness. Farewell.
Ut enim, si cenam tibi facerem, dulcibus cibis acres acutosque miscerem, ut obtusus illis et oblitus stomachus his excitaretur, ita nunc hortor ut iucundissimum genus vitae non nullis interdum quasi acoribus condias. Vale.
You say you have read my hendecasyllables; you ask, too, how I came to write them — a man, as I seem to you, austere, as I myself confess, not unfit for it.
Ais legisse te hendecasyllabos meos; requiris etiam quemadmodum coeperim scribere, homo ut tibi videor severus, ut ipse fateor non ineptus.
I was never — for I will go back further — a stranger to poetry; indeed at fourteen I wrote a Greek tragedy. "Of what sort?" you ask. I do not know; a tragedy it was called.
Numquam a poetice - altius enim repetam - alienus fui; quin etiam quattuordecim natus annos Graecam tragoediam scripsi. ’Qualem?’ inquis. Nescio; tragoedia vocabatur.
Later, when, returning from military service, I was detained by the winds on the island of Icaria, I made Latin elegiacs on that very sea and that very island. I have tried my hand sometimes at heroic verse too, at hendecasyllables now for the first time, whose birthday and occasion was this. There were being read to me at my Laurentine villa the books of Asinius Gallus comparing his father and Cicero. There came up an epigram of Cicero’s upon his freedman Tiro.
Mox, cum e militia rediens in Icaria insula ventis detinerer, Latinos elegos in illud ipsum mare ipsamque insulam feci. Expertus sum me aliquando et heroo, hendecasyllabis nunc primum, quorum hic natalis haec causa est. Legebantur in Laurentino mihi libri Asini Galli de comparatione patris et Ciceronis. Incidit epigramma Ciceronis in Tironem suum.
Then, when at midday — for it was summer — I had withdrawn to sleep, and sleep would not steal upon me, I began to reflect that the greatest orators had held this kind of pursuit among their delights and set it among their glories.
Dein cum meridie - erat enim aestas - dormiturus me recepissem, nec obreperet somnus, coepi reputare maximos oratores hoc studii genus et in oblectationibus habuisse et in laude posuisse.
I bent my mind to it, and against my own expectation, after a long disuse, in a very brief moment of time I scratched out in these verses the very thing that had stirred me to write:
Intendi animum contraque opinionem meam post longam desuetudinem perquam exiguo temporis momento id ipsum, quod me ad scribendum sollicitaverat, his versibus exaravi:
When I was reading the books of Gallus, in which he dared to give to his father palm and honor over Cicero, I found a wanton play of Cicero’s, and one to be admired for that same genius with which he composed his weighty works, and with which he showed, by human wit and much and varied charm, that the minds of great men take their joy. For he complains that, frustrating his lover by a cruel trick, Tiro stole away by night the few little kisses owed him after supper.
Cum libros Galli legerem, quibus ille parenti ausus de Cicerone dare est palmamque decusque, lascivum inveni lusum Ciceronis et illo spectandum ingenio, quo seria condidit et quo humanis salibus multo varioque lepore magnorum ostendit mentes gaudere virorum. Nam queritur quod fraude mala frustratus amantem paucula cenato sibi debita savia Tiro tempore nocturno subtraxerit.
Having read this, "why," said I, "after this do we conceal our loves, and, timid, give nothing to the public, and confess Tiro’s wiles, and know Tiro’s fugitive caresses and the thefts that add new flames?"
His ego lectis ’cur post haec’ inquam ’nostros celamus amores nullumque in medium timidi damus atque fatemur Tironisque dolos, Tironis nosse fugaces blanditias et furta novas addentia flammas?’
I passed to elegiacs; these too I unrolled no less swiftly, and added others, spoiled by the ease of it. Then, returned to the city, I read them to my companions; they approved.
Transii ad elegos; hos quoque non minus celeriter explicui, addidi alios facilitate corruptus. Deinde in urbem reversus sodalibus legi; probaverunt.
Thence I tried more meters, whenever I had any leisure, and chiefly on a journey. At last it pleased me, after the example of many, to complete one separate volume of hendecasyllables, and I do not repent it.
Inde plura metra si quid otii, ac maxime in itinere temptavi. Postremo placuit exemplo multorum unum separatim hendecasyllaborum volumen absolvere, nec paenitet.
They are read, copied, even sung; and by Greeks too, whom love of this little book has taught Latin, they are sounded forth now on the cithara, now on the lyre.
Legitur describitur cantatur etiam, et a Graecis quoque, quos Latine huius libelli amor docuit, nunc cithara nunc lyra personatur.
But why so boastfully? Yet poets are allowed to rave. And besides, I speak not of my own judgment but of others’; who, whether they judge rightly or err, delight me. One thing I pray — that posterity too either err in like manner or judge so. Farewell.
Sed quid ego tam gloriose? Quamquam poetis furere concessum est. Et tamen non de meo sed de aliorum iudicio loquor; qui sive iudicant sive errant, me delectat. Unum precor, ut posteri quoque aut errent similiter aut iudicent. Vale.
Incredible is the longing with which I am held for you. The cause is love first, and then that we are not used to being apart. Hence it is that I spend a great part of the nights awake in your image; hence that by day, at the hours when I was wont to visit you, my very feet — as the truest saying goes — lead me to your room; hence that, sick and sorrowful and like one shut out, I withdraw from your empty threshold. One time alone is free from these torments — the time I wear away in the forum and the lawsuits of friends.
Incredibile est quanto desiderio tui tenear. In causa amor primum, deinde quod non consuevimus abesse. Inde est quod magnam noctium partem in imagine tua vigil exigo; inde quod interdiu, quibus horis te visere solebam, ad diaetam tuam ipsi me, ut verissime dicitur, pedes ducunt; quod denique aeger et maestus ac similis excluso a vacuo limine recedo. Unum tempus his tormentis caret, quo in foro et Samicorum litibus conteror.
Judge, then, what my life is, in which labor is my rest, and in misery and cares my solace. Farewell.
Aestima tu, quae vita mea sit, cui requies in labore, in miseria curisque solacium. Vale.
A rare and notable thing has befallen Varenus, though it is still in doubt. The Bithynians are said to have dropped their accusation of him as rashly begun. "Said," do I call it? The deputy of the province is here, has brought the council’s decree to Caesar, has brought it to many of the leading men, has brought it even to us, Varenus’s advocates.
Rara et notabilis res Vareno contigit, sit licet adhuc dubia. Bithyni accusationem eius ut temere incohatam omisisse narrantur. ’Narrantur’ dico? Adest provinciae legatus, attulit decretum concilii ad Caesarem, attulit ad multos principes viros, attulit etiam ad nos Vareni advocatos.
Yet that same Magnus persists; nay, he most stubbornly works upon Nigrinus, an excellent man. Through him he was demanding of the consuls that Varenus be compelled to produce his accounts.
Perstat tamen idem ille Magnus; quin etiam Nigrinum optimum virum pertinacissime exercet. Per hunc a consulibus postulabat, ut Varenus exhibere rationes cogeretur.
I was standing by Varenus now only as a friend, and had resolved to keep silent. For nothing would be so contrary as that I, an advocate assigned by the senate, should defend him as a defendant, when his need was that he not seem a defendant at all.
Assistebam Vareno iam tantum ut amicus et tacere decreveram. Nihil enim tam contrarium quam si advocatus a senatu datus defenderem ut reum, cui opus esset ne reus videretur.
Yet when, the demand of Nigrinus being finished, the consuls had turned their eyes to me, "You shall learn," I said, "that the reason of our silence is consistent, when you have heard the true deputies of the province." Nigrinus, in answer: "To whom were they sent?" I: "To me as well: I hold the decree of the province."
Cum tamen finita postulatione Nigrini consules ad me oculos rettulissent, ’Scietis’ inquam ’constare nobis silentii nostri rationem, cum veros legatos provinciae audieritis.’ Contra Nigrinus: ’Ad quem missi sunt?’ Ego: ’Ad me quoque: habeo decretum provinciae.’
Again he: "It may be clear to you." To this I: "If from the other side it is clear to you, the better case can be clear to me too."
Rursus ille: ’Potest tibi liquere.’ Ad hoc ego: ’Si tibi ex diverso liquet, potest et mihi quod est melius liquere.
Then the deputy Polyaenus set forth the grounds of the accusation’s abandonment, and demanded that no prejudice be done to Caesar’s inquiry. Magnus replied, and again Polyaenus. I myself, speaking seldom and briefly, held myself much within silence.
Tum legatus Polyaenus causas abolitae accusationis exposuit, postulavitque ne cognitioni Caesaris praeiudicium fieret. Respondit Magnus iterumque Polyaenus. Ipse raro et breviter interlocutus multum me intra silentium tenui.
For I have learned that it is sometimes no less an orator’s part to be silent than to speak. And indeed I recall that to certain defendants on capital charges I was of more use by silence than by the most studied speech.
Accepi enim non minus interdum oratorium esse tacere quam dicere. Atque adeo repeto me quibusdam capitis reis vel magis silentio quam oratione accuratissima profuisse.
A mother, having lost her son — for what forbids, although the occasion of writing the letter was otherwise, that I discourse of forensic matters? — had laid against his freedmen, who were also her co-heirs, an accusation of forgery and poisoning before the emperor, and had obtained Julius Servianus as judge.
Mater amisso filio - quid enim prohibet, quamquam alia ratio scribendae epistulae fuerit, de studiis disputare? - libertos eius eosdemque coheredes suos falsi et veneficii reos detulerat ad principem, iudicemque impetraverat Iulium Servianum.
I had defended the accused before a vast gathering; for the case was most famous, and besides there were on both sides the most brilliant talents. An examination under torture put an end to the inquiry, which it decided in the defendants’ favor.
Defenderam reos ingenti quidem coetu; erat enim causa notissima, praeterea utrimque ingenia clarissima. Finem cognitioni quaestio imposuit, quae secundum reos dedit.
Afterward the mother went to the emperor, and declared she had found new proofs. Suburanus was bidden to give her audience, since she was reopening a finished case, if she should bring anything new.
Postea mater adiit principem, affirmavit se novas probationes invenisse. Praeceptum est Suburano, ut vacaret finitam causam retractanti, si quid novi afferret.
Julius Africanus was acting for the mother, grandson of that orator of whom, when he had been heard, Passienus Crispus said: "Good, by Hercules, good; but to what end so good?" His grandson, a clever young man but not a little crafty, when he had said much and filled up the time allotted him, said: "I beg you, Suburanus, permit me to add one word."
Aderat matri Iulius Africanus, nepos illius oratoris, quo audito Passienus Crispus dixit: ’Bene mehercule, bene; sed quo tam bene?’ Huius nepos, iuvenis ingeniosus sed non parum callidus, cum multa dixisset assignatumque tempus implesset, ’Rogo’ inquit, ’Suburane, permittas mihi unum verbum adicere.’
Then I, when all were looking at me as though I should answer at length, said: "I would have answered, if Africanus had added that one word, in which I doubt not all his new matter lay."
Tum ego, cum omnes me ut diu responsurum intuerentur, ’Respondissem’ inquam ’si unum illud verbum Africanus adiecisset, in quo non dubito omnia nova fuisse.’
I cannot easily recall winning so much assent by pleading as I then won by not pleading. In like manner now too what I have so far kept silent on Varenus’s behalf has been both approved and welcomed.
Non facile me repeto tantum assensum agendo consecutum, quantum tunc non agendo. Similiter nunc et probatum et exceptum est, quod pro Vareno hactenus tacui.
The consuls, as Polyaenus demanded, reserved everything entire for the emperor; whose inquiry I await in suspense. For that day will give us, on Varenus’s behalf, either security and rest, or impose on us the interrupted labor renewed, with anxiety. Farewell.
Consules, ut Polyaenus postulabat, omnia integra principi servaverunt; cuius cognitionem suspensus exspecto. Nam dies ille nobis pro Vareno aut securitatem et otium dabit aut intermissum laborem renovata sollicitudine iniunget. Vale.
Both lately I thanked our Priscus, and again now, since you so bade me. Most gladly indeed: for it is very pleasant to me that you — men most excellent and most dear to me — have so cleaved together that you think yourselves mutually obliged.
Et proxime Prisco nostro et rursus, quia ita iussisti, gratias egi. Libentissime quidem: est enim mihi periucundum, quod viri optimi mihique amicissimi adeo cohaesistis, ut invicem vos obligari putetis.
For he too professes that he takes a special pleasure from your friendship, and vies with you in a most honorable contest of mutual affection, which the very passage of time will increase. That you are kept busy with affairs I bear ill on this account, that you cannot devote yourself to study. Yet if you finish one suit through a judge and the other — as you say — yourself, you will begin first to enjoy leisure there, then, sated, to return to us. Farewell.
Nam ille quoque praecipuam se voluptatem ex amicitia tua capere profitetur, certatque tecum honestissimo certamine mutuae caritatis, quam ipsum tempus augebit. Te negotiis distineri ob hoc moleste fero, quod deservire studiis non potes. Si tamen alteram litem per iudicem alteram - ut ais - ipse finieris, incipies primum istic otio frui, deinde satiatus ad nos reverti. Vale.
I cannot express how pleasant it is to me that our Saturninus, in letter after letter, renders you the highest thanks before me.
Exprimere non possum, quam iucundum sit mihi quod Saturninus noster summas tibi apud me gratias aliis super alias epistulis agit.
Go on as you have begun, and love that most excellent man as intimately as may be, since you will gain great pleasure from his friendship, and that not for a short time.
Perge ut coepisti, virumque optimum quam familiarissime dilige, magnam voluptatem ex amicitia eius percepturus nec ad breve tempus.
For while he abounds in all the virtues, he has this above all, that he keeps the greatest constancy in affection. Farewell.
Nam cum omnibus virtutibus abundat, tum hac praecipue, quod habet maximam in amore constantiam. Vale.
You ask how, in the retirement you have now long enjoyed, I think you ought to study.
Quaeris quemadmodum in secessu, quo iam diu frueris, putem te studere oportere.
Useful above all — and many recommend it — is to translate either from Greek into Latin or from Latin into Greek. By this kind of exercise one gains propriety and brilliance of words, abundance of figures, force of exposition, and besides, by the imitation of the best, the faculty of inventing the like; and at the same time what would have escaped a reader cannot escape a translator.
Utile in primis, et multi praecipiunt, vel ex Graeco in Latinum vel ex Latino vertere in Graecum. Quo genere exercitationis proprietas splendorque verborum, copia figurarum, vis explicandi, praeterea imitatione optimorum similia inveniendi facultas paratur; simul quae legentem fefellissent, transferentem fugere non possunt.
From this, understanding and judgment are acquired. It will do no harm, when you have read enough to grasp the matter and the argument, to write as it were in rivalry, and to compare it with what you read, and carefully weigh which is the better — what you have written or what he. Great is the rejoicing if some are yours, great the shame if all of his are better. You may sometimes also choose the most familiar passages and contend with your choice.
Intellegentia ex hoc et iudicium acquiritur. Nihil offuerit quae legeris hactenus, ut rem argumentumque teneas, quasi aemulum scribere lectisque conferre, ac sedulo pensitare, quid tu quid ille commodius. Magna gratulatio si non nulla tu, magnus pudor si cuncta ille melius. Licebit interdum et notissima eligere et certare cum electis.
This is a bold contest, yet not presumptuous, because it is private: though we see many who have taken up such contests for themselves with much praise, and, while they had thought it enough to follow, have, by not despairing, gone ahead of those they followed.
Audax haec, non tamen improba, quia secreta contentio: quamquam multos videmus eius modi certamina sibi cum multa laude sumpsisse, quosque subsequi satis habebant, dum non desperant, antecessisse.
You may also, after you have forgotten them, revise the things you have said, keep much, pass over more, write some things in between, rewrite others.
Poteris et quae dixeris post oblivionem retractare, multa retinere plura transire, alia interscribere alia rescribere.
Laborious that is, and full of tedium, but by the very difficulty fruitful: to grow warm anew, and to recover the broken and abandoned impulse, and finally to weave new limbs, as it were, into a finished body, yet without disturbing the former parts.
Laboriosum istud et taedio plenum, sed difficultate ipsa fructuosum, recalescere ex integro et resumere impetum fractum omissumque, postremo nova velut membra peracto corpori intexere nec tamen priora turbare.
I know your chief study now is in oratory; but not for that reason would I always advise this pugnacious and, as it were, warlike pen. For as the soil is renewed by various and changing seeds, so are our minds refreshed now by this, now by that exercise.
Scio nunc tibi esse praecipuum studium orandi; sed non ideo semper pugnacem hunc et quasi bellatorium stilum suaserim. Ut enim terrae variis mutatisque seminibus, ita ingenia nostra nunc hac nunc illa meditatione recoluntur.
I would have you sometimes take up some passage from history, I would have you write a letter more carefully. For often in oratory too there falls a need of description not only historical but almost poetic, and a compressed and pure style is to be sought from letters.
Volo interdum aliquem ex historia locum apprendas, volo epistulam diligentius scribas. Nam saepe in oratione quoque non historica modo sed prope poetica descriptionum necessitas incidit, et pressus sermo purusque ex epistulis petitur.
It is allowable to be unbent in verse too — I do not mean continuous and long, for that cannot be achieved save in leisure — but in this terse and brief kind, which fitly breaks up occupations and cares of any size.
Fas est et carmine remitti, non dico continuo et longo - id enim perfici nisi in otio non potest -, sed hoc arguto et brevi, quod apte quantas libet occupationes curasque distinguit.
They are called play; but these plays sometimes win no less glory than serious works. And indeed — for why should I not exhort you to verses in verse? —
Lusus vocantur; sed hi lusus non minorem interdum gloriam quam seria consequuntur. Atque adeo - cur enim te ad versus non versibus adhorter? -
as it is the praise of wax, if soft and yielding it follow the skilled fingers and become the work commanded, and now shape Mars or chaste Minerva, now mold Venus, now Venus’s boy; and as sacred springs not only stay conflagrations, but often delight with flowers and spring meadows, so it befits the wit of men to be bent and led through arts not rigid, with learned suppleness.
ut laus est cerae, mollis cedensque sequatur si doctos digitos iussaque fiat opus et nunc informet Martem castamve Minervam, nunc Venerem effingat, nunc Veneris puerum; utque sacri fontes non sola incendia sistunt, saepe etiam flores vernaque prata iuvant, sic hominum ingenium flecti ducique per artes non rigidas docta mobilitate decet.
And so the greatest orators, the greatest men too, thus either exercised or delighted themselves — nay, delighted and exercised themselves at once.
Itaque summi oratores, summi etiam viri sic se aut exercebant aut delectabant, immo delectabant exercebantque.
For it is wonderful how the mind is strained and relaxed by these little works. For they take in loves, hatreds, angers, pity, urbanity — everything, in short, that has its place in life, and even in the forum and lawsuits.
Nam mirum est ut his opusculis animus intendatur remittatur. Recipiunt enim amores odia iras misericordiam urbanitatem, omnia denique quae in vita atque etiam in foro causisque versantur.
In these too is the same usefulness as in other poems: that, bound by the necessity of meter, we rejoice in free prose; and that we write the more gladly what comparison shows to be the easier.
Inest his quoque eadem quae aliis carminibus utilitas, quod metri necessitate devincti soluta oratione laetamur, et quod facilius esse comparatio ostendit, libentius scribimus.
You have, perhaps, even more than you asked; yet one thing I have omitted. For I have not said what I think should be read — though I have said it, when I said what should be written. Do you remember to choose carefully the authors of each kind. For they say one should read much, not many things.
Habes plura etiam fortasse quam requirebas; unum tamen omisi. Non enim dixi quae legenda arbitrarer: quamquam dixi, cum dicerem quae scribenda. Tu memineris sui cuiusque generis auctores diligenter eligere. Aiunt enim multum legendum esse, non multa.
Who these are is so well known and approved that it needs no pointing out; and besides, I have stretched my letter so immoderately that, while I advise you how you ought to study, I have taken away the time for studying. Why then do you not take up your tablets again, and write something from these, or that very thing you had begun? Farewell.
Qui sint hi adeo notum probatumque est, ut demonstratione non egeat; et alioqui tam immodice epistulam extendi, ut dum tibi quemadmodum studere debeas suadeo, studendi tempus abstulerim. Quin ergo pugillares resumis, et aliquid ex his vel istud ipsum quod coeperas scribis? Vale.
Since I myself, when I have learned the first things, long to join to them the last that were torn from them, I think you too wish to learn the rest about Varenus and the Bithynians. The case was pleaded on one side by Polyaenus, on the other by Magnus.
Quia ipse, cum prima cognovi, iungere extrema quas avulsa cupio, te quoque existimo velle de Vareno et Bithynis reliqua cognoscere. Acta causa hinc a Polyaeno, inde a Magno.
The pleadings finished, Caesar said: "Neither party shall complain of the delay; it shall be my care to explore the will of the province."
Finitis actionibus Caesar ’Neutra’ inquit ’pars de mora queretur; erit mihi curae explorare provinciae voluntatem.’
Meanwhile Varenus has gained much. For how doubtful is it whether a man is rightly accused, of whom it is uncertain whether he is accused at all! It remains only that the province may not again be pleased with what it is said to have condemned, and repent of its own repentance. Farewell.
Multum interim Varenus tulit. Etenim quam dubium est an merito accusetur, qui an omnino accusetur incertum est! Superest ne rursus provinciae quod damnasse dicitur placeat, agatque paenitentiam paenitentiae suae. Vale.
You wonder that my freedman Hermes, without waiting for the auction, made over to Corellia my fifth share of the inherited lands, which I had ordered to be put up for sale, for seven hundred thousand. You add that these could fetch nine hundred thousand, and so all the more you ask whether I confirm what he did.
Miraris quod Hermes libertus meus hereditarios agros, quos ego iusseram proscribi, non exspectata auctione pro meo quincunce ex septingentis milibus Corelliae addixerit. Adicis hos nongentis milibus posse venire, ac tanto magis quaeris, an quod gessit ratum servem.
I do confirm it: for what reasons, hear. For I desire that it be both approved by you and excused to my co-heirs, that I separate myself from them at the bidding of a greater obligation.
Ego vero servo: quibus ex causis, accipe. Cupio enim et tibi probatum et coheredibus meis excusatum esse, quod me ab illis maiore officio iubente secerno.
Corellia I love with the highest reverence — first as the sister of Corellius Rufus, whose memory is to me sacrosanct, then as most intimate with my mother.
Corelliam cum summa reverentia diligo, primum ut sororem Corelli Rufi, cuius mihi memoria sacrosancta est, deinde ut matri meae familiarissimam.
I have also with her husband Minicius Justus, an excellent man, old ties; and I had the greatest with her son, so much so that he presided over my games when I was praetor.
Sunt mihi et cum marito eius Minicio Iusto, optimo viro, vetera iura; fuerunt et cum filio maxima, adeo quidem ut praetore me ludis meis praesederit.
This woman, when I was last there, made known to me that she wished to possess something about our Larius. I offered her, out of my estates, whatever she wished and at whatever price she wished, except those that came from my mother and father; for these I cannot yield even to Corellia.
Haec, cum proxime istic fui, indicavit mihi cupere se aliquid circa Larium nostrum possidere. Ego illi ex praediis meis quod vellet et quanti vellet obtuli exceptis maternis paternisque; his enim cedere ne Corelliae quidem possum.
Therefore, when an inheritance fell to me in which those lands lay, I wrote to her that they would be for sale. Hermes carried these letters, and when she pressed him to make over my portion to her at once, he obeyed. You see how I must hold valid what my freedman did after my own way of acting.
Igitur cum obvenisset mihi hereditas in qua praedia ista, scripsi ei venalia futura. Has epistulas Hermes tulit exigentique, ut statim portionem meam sibi addiceret, paruit. Vides quam ratum habere debeam, quod libertus meus meis moribus gessit.
It remains that my co-heirs bear with an even mind that I have sold separately what I might lawfully not have sold at all.
Superest ut coheredes aequo animo ferant separatim me vendidisse, quod mihi licuit omnino non vendere.
Nor indeed are they bound to imitate my example: for they have not the same ties with Corellia. They may therefore look to their own advantage, which to me was friendship. Farewell.
Nec vero coguntur imitari meum exemplum: non enim illis eadem cum Corellia iura. Possunt ergo intueri utilitatem suam, pro qua mihi fuit amicitia. Vale.
The little book shaped by me, as you had required — that your friend, nay our friend, for what is not common to us? — might use it if the matter should demand, I have sent you the later, that you might not have time to amend it, that is, to spoil it.
Libellum formatum a me, sicut exegeras, quo amicus tuus, immo noster - quid enim non commune nobis? -, si res posceret uteretur, misi tibi ideo tardius ne tempus emendandi eum, id est disperdendi, haberes.
Yet have it you shall — to amend, I know not, but at any rate to spoil. For you fastidious critics (Ὑμεῖς γὰρ οἱ εὔζηλοι) strip away all the very best parts.
Habebis tamen, an emendandi nescio, utique disperdendi. Ὑμεῖς γὰρ οἱ εὔζηλοι optima quaeque detrahitis.
But if you do, I shall take it in good part. For afterward I shall use those parts, on some occasion, as my own, and by the benefit of your fastidiousness I myself shall win praise — as in that passage which you will find marked, and explained otherwise in the line written above.
Quod si feceris, boni consulam. Postea enim illis ex aliqua occasione ut meis utar, et beneficio fastidi tui ipse laudabor, ut in eo quod adnotatum invenies et suprascripto aliter explicitum.
For when I suspected it would seem to you too swollen, since it is more sonorous and lofty, I thought it not amiss, lest you torment yourself, to add at once something more compressed and slender — or rather lowlier and worse, yet by your judgment more correct.
Nam cum suspicarer futurum, ut tibi tumidius videretur, quoniam est sonantius et elatius, non alienum existimavi, ne te torqueres, addere statim pressius quiddam et exilius, vel potius humilius et peius, vestro tamen iudicio rectius.
For why should I not everywhere pursue and harry your thinness of style? This, that you might laugh a little amid those occupations of yours; the following, in earnest:
Cur enim non usquequaque tenuitatem vestram insequar et exagitem? Haec ut inter istas occupationes aliquid aliquando rideres, illud serio:
see that you repay me my travelling-money, which I spent on purpose in sending off a courier. Else you, when you read this, will condemn not the parts of the little book, but the whole little book, and will deny that anything has any value, the value of which is demanded back from you. Farewell.
vide ut mihi viaticum reddas, quod impendi data opera cursore dimisso. Ne tu, cum hoc legeris, non partes libelli, sed totum libellum improbabis, negabisque ullius pretii esse, cuius pretium reposcaris. Vale.
The same letter signifies both that you do not study and that you do study. Do I speak riddles? Just so, indeed, until I utter more distinctly what I mean.
Eadem epistula et non studere te et studere significat. Aenigmata loquor? Ita plane, donec distinctius quod sentio enuntiem.
For it denies that you study, but it is so polished that it could not be written save by one who studies; or you are blessed above all men, if you achieve such things through idleness and leisure. Farewell.
Negat enim te studere, sed est tam polita quam nisi a studente non potest scribi; aut es tu super omnes beatus, si talia per desidiam et otium perficis. Vale.
You indeed most honorably, in that you so earnestly both ask and insist that I order the price of the lands to be accepted from you, not out of the seven hundred thousand at which you bought them from my freedman, but out of the nine hundred thousand at which you bought the twentieth part from the tax-farmers.
Tu quidem honestissime, quod tam impense et rogas et exigis, ut accipi iubeam a te pretium agrorum non e septingentis milibus, quanti illos a liberto meo, sed ex nongentis, quanti a publicanis partem vicensimam emisti.
In turn I both ask and insist that you look not only to what becomes you but also to what becomes me, and suffer me, in this one thing, to resist you with the same spirit with which in all things I am wont to comply. Farewell.
Invicem ego et rogo et exigo, ut non solum quid te verum etiam quid me deceat aspicias, patiarisque me in hoc uno tibi eodem animo repugnare, quo in omnibus obsequi soleo. Vale.
You ask what I am doing. The things you know: I am pulled apart by public duty, I serve my friends, I study now and then — which to do not now and then but only and always would be, I dare not say more rightly, certainly more blessedly.
Requiris quid agam. Quae nosti: distringor officio, amicis deservio, studeo interdum, quod non interdum sed solum semperque facere, non audeo dicere rectius, certe beatius erat.
That you do anything other than what you would wish, I should bear ill, were not the things you do most honorable. For both to manage the business of one’s own commonwealth and to arbitrate among friends is most worthy of praise.
Te omnia alia quam quae velis agere moleste ferrem, nisi ea quae agis essent honestissima. Nam et rei publicae suae negotia curare et disceptare inter amicos laude dignissimum est.
I knew the companionship of our Priscus would be pleasant to you. I had known his simplicity, I had known his courtesy; that he is also — what I knew less — most grateful, I find by experience, since you write that he remembers our good offices so pleasantly. Farewell.
Prisci nostri contubernium iucundum tibi futurum sciebam. Noveram simplicitatem eius, noveram comitatem; eundem esse - quod minus noram - gratissimum experior, cum tam iucunde officiorum nostrorum meminisse eum scribas. Vale.
Calestrius Tiro I love most intimately, bound to me by ties both private and public.
Calestrium Tironem familiarissime diligo et privatis mihi et publicis necessitudinibus implicitum.
We served together, together we were quaestors of Caesar. He went before me in the tribunate by the right of children, I overtook him in the praetorship, when Caesar had remitted me a year. I have often retired to his villas, he has often regained his health in my house.
Simul militavimus, simul quaestores Caesaris fuimus. Ille me in tribunatu liberorum iure praecessit, ego illum in praetura sum consecutus, cum mihi Caesar annum remisisset. Ego in villas eius saepe secessi, ille in domo mea saepe convaluit.
He is now about to set out as proconsul for the province of Baetica, by way of Ticinum.
Hic nunc pro consule provinciam Baeticam per Ticinum est petiturus.
I hope, nay I am confident, that I shall easily obtain that he turn aside from his journey to you, if you wish to free by the rod those whom you lately manumitted among your friends. There is no reason to fear this may be a trouble to him, to whom it will not seem far to go round the whole world for my sake.
Spero, immo confido facile me impetraturum, ex itinere deflectat ad te, si voles vindicta liberare, quos proxime inter amicos manumisisti. Nihil est quod verearis ne sit hoc illi molestum, cui orbem terrarum circumire non erit longum mea causa.
Therefore lay aside that excessive modesty of yours, and consult your own wish. To him it is as pleasant to do as I bid, as to me what you bid. Farewell.
Proinde nimiam istam verecundiam pone, teque quid velis consule. Illi tam iucundum quod ego, quam mihi quod tu iubes. Vale.
Each man has his own reason for reciting; mine is what I have often said already — that if anything escapes me, as certainly it does, I may be warned of it.
Sua cuique ratio recitandi; mihi quod saepe iam dixi, ut si quid me fugit - ut certe fugit - admonear.
The more I wonder that you write there were some who found fault that I recited speeches at all; unless indeed they think these alone need no amending.
Quo magis miror, quod scribis fuisse quosdam qui reprehenderent quod orationes omnino recitarem; nisi vero has solas non putant emendandas.
Of whom I would gladly ask why they grant — if they grant it at all — that history ought to be recited, which is composed not for display but for trust and truth; why tragedy, which demands not an audience but a stage and actors; why lyric, which demands not a reader but a chorus and a lyre. But the recitation of these is now received by custom.
A quibus libenter requisierim, cur concedant - si concedunt tamen - historiam debere recitari, quae non ostentationi sed fidei veritatique componitur; cur tragoediam, quae non auditorium sed scaenam et actores; cur lyrica, quae non lectorem sed chorum et lyram poscunt. At horum recitatio usu iam recepta est.
Is he, then, to be blamed who began it? And yet speeches too have been read aloud, both by some of our own and by Greeks.
Num ergo culpandus est ille qui coepit? Quamquam orationes quoque et nostri quidam et Graeci lectitaverunt.
Yet it is superfluous, they say, to recite what you have delivered. So it is, if you recite all the same things, to all the same people, at once; but if you insert much, change much, take some new hearers and some the same but after an interval, why should the reason for reciting what you have delivered be less acceptable than for publishing it?
Supervacuum tamen est recitare quae dixeris. Etiam, si eadem omnia, si isdem omnibus, si statim recites; si vero multa inseras multa commutes, si quosdam novos quosdam eosdem sed post tempus assumas, cur minus probabilis sit causa recitandi quae dixeris quam edendi?
But it is hard that a speech, while it is recited, should satisfy. That, however, belongs to the labor of the reciter, not to the case against reciting.
Sed difficile est ut oratio dum recitatur satisfaciat. Iam hoc ad laborem recitantis pertinet, non ad rationem non recitandi.
Nor indeed do I, while I recite, desire to be praised, but while I am read. And so I omit no kind of amending. First I go over by myself what I have written; then I read it to two or three; next I hand it to others to annotate, and their notes, if I doubt, I weigh again with one or another; last of all I recite to several, and then, if you will believe me, I amend most sharply;
Nec vero ego dum recito laudari, sed dum legor cupio. Itaque nullum emendandi genus omitto. Ac primum quae scripsi mecum ipse pertracto; deinde duobus aut tribus lego; mox aliis trado adnotanda, notasque eorum, si dubito, cum uno rursus aut altero pensito; novissime pluribus recito, ac si quid mihi credis tunc acerrime emendo;
for the more anxiously, the more diligently I attend. But reverence, modesty, and fear are the best judges, and hold this so: are you not, if you are to speak with anyone however learned, yet one only, less moved than if with many even unlearned?
nam tanto diligentius quanto sollicitius intendo. Optime autem reverentia pudor metus iudicant, idque adeo sic habe: Nonne si locuturus es cum aliquo quamlibet docto, uno tamen, minus commoveris quam si cum multis vel indoctis?
Are you not, when you rise to plead, then most of all diffident of yourself, then desirous of changing not many things, I say, but all? especially if the stage is broader and the ring of bystanders wider; for those mean, dark-clad ones too we revere.
Nonne cum surgis ad agendum, tunc maxime tibi ipse diffidis, tunc commutata non dico plurima sed omnia cupis? utique si latior scaena et corona diffusior; nam illos quoque sordidos pullatosque reveremur.
Are you not, if you think your very first words disapproved, weakened and undone? I suppose because in the very number there is a certain great and collected judgment, and those who singly have little discernment have, all together, the most.
Nonne si prima quaeque improbari putas, debilitaris et concidis? Opinor, quia in numero ipso est quoddam magnum collatumque consilium, quibusque singulis iudicii parum, omnibus plurimum.
And so Pomponius Secundus — that writer of tragedies — if some more familiar friend thought a thing should be struck out which he himself judged should be kept, was wont to say: "I appeal to the people"; and thus, from the people’s silence or assent, he followed either his own opinion or his friend’s.
Itaque Pomponius Secundus - hic scriptor tragoediarum -, si quid forte familiarior amicus tollendum, ipse retinendum arbitraretur, dicere solebat: ’Ad populum provoco’, atque ita ex populi vel silentio vel assensu aut suam aut amici sententiam sequebatur.
So much did he grant to the people; rightly or otherwise, that is nothing to me. For I am wont to call in not the people but certain chosen men, whom I may look to, whom I may trust, whom in short I may both observe as individuals and fear as though they were not individuals.
Tantum ille populo dabat; recte an secus, nihil ad me. Ego enim non populum advocare sed certos electosque soleo, quos intuear quibus credam, quos denique et tamquam singulos observem et tamquam non singulos timeam.
For what Marcus Cicero felt about the pen, I feel about fear: fear, fear is the sharpest corrector. The very thought that we are about to recite amends us; that we enter the lecture-hall amends us; that we grow pale, shudder, and look about us amends us.
Nam, quod M. Cicero de stilo, ego de metu sentio: timor est, timor emendator asperrimus. Hoc ipsum quod nos recitaturos cogitamus emendat; quod auditorium ingredimur emendat; quod pallemus horrescimus circumspicimus emendat.
Therefore I do not repent of my custom, which I find most useful; and so far am I from being deterred by the little speeches of those people, that of my own accord I even ask you to point out something I may add to them.
Proinde non paenitet me consuetudinis meae quam utilissimam experior, adeoque non deterreor sermunculis istorum, ut ultro te rogem monstres aliquid quod his addam.
For nothing is enough for my carefulness. I consider how great a thing it is to give something into men’s hands, nor can I persuade myself that what you would have please both always and all should not be handled both with many and often. Farewell.
Nihil enim curae meae satis est. Cogito quam sit magnum dare aliquid in manus hominum, nec persuadere mihi possum non et cum multis et saepe tractandum, quod placere et semper et omnibus cupias. Vale.
You deliberate with me how the money which you have offered our townsmen for a public feast may, after you too, remain safe. An honorable question, no ready answer. Should you pay the sum to the commonwealth? it is to be feared lest it slip away. Should you give lands? as public property they will be neglected.
Deliberas mecum quemadmodum pecunia, quam municipibus nostris in epulum obtulisti, post te quoque salva sit. Honesta consultatio, non expedita sententia. Numeres rei publicae summam: verendum est ne dilabatur. Des agros: ut publici neglegentur.
For my part I find nothing more convenient than what I myself did. For in place of five hundred thousand sesterces, which I had promised for the support of free-born boys and girls, I conveyed to the public agent a farm of mine worth far more; the same, with a rent imposed, I took back, undertaking to pay thirty thousand a year.
Equidem nihil commodius invenio, quam quod ipse feci. Nam pro quingentis milibus nummum, quae in alimenta ingenuorum ingenuarumque promiseram, agrum ex meis longe pluris actori publico mancipavi; eundem vectigali imposito recepi, tricena milia annua daturus.
For by this means both the commonwealth’s principal is secure and its income unfailing, and the land itself, because its value far exceeds the rent, will always find an owner to work it.
Per hoc enim et rei publicae sors in tuto nec reditus incertus, et ager ipse propter id quod vectigal large supercurrit, semper dominum a quo exerceatur inveniet.
Nor am I ignorant that I have laid out somewhat more than I seem to have given, since the burden of the rent has lowered the price of a most beautiful farm.
Nec ignoro me plus aliquanto quam donasse videor erogavisse, cum pulcherrimi agri pretium necessitas vectigalis infregerit.
But one ought to set public advantages before private, eternal before mortal, and to look much more carefully to one’s gift than to one’s means. Farewell.
Sed oportet privatis utilitatibus publicas, mortalibus aeternas anteferre, multoque diligentius muneri suo consulere quam facultatibus. Vale.
The ill-health of Fannia troubles me. She contracted it while sitting by Junia, a Vestal Virgin — at first of her own accord, for she is a kinswoman, then also by the authority of the pontiffs.
Angit me Fanniae valetudo. Contraxit hanc dum assidet Iuniae virgini, sponte primum - est enim affinis -, deinde etiam ex auctoritate pontificum.
For the Virgins, when by force of sickness they are compelled to leave the hall of Vesta, are committed to the care and keeping of matrons. While Fannia was diligently discharging this office, she became entangled in this peril.
Nam virgines, cum vi morbi atrio Vestae coguntur excedere, matronarum curae custodiaeque mandantur. Quo munere Fannia dum sedulo fungitur, hoc discrimine implicita est.
Fevers beset her, her cough grows; she is utterly wasted, utterly spent. Only her mind and spirit are vigorous, most worthy of her husband Helvidius, of her father Thrasea; the rest gives way, and wears me down not with fear only, but with grief.
Insident febres, tussis increscit; summa macies summa defectio. Animus tantum et spiritus viget Helvidio marito, Thrasea patre dignissimus; reliqua labuntur, meque non metu tantum, verum etiam dolore conficiunt.
For I grieve that a most great woman is being snatched from the eyes of the state, which I know not whether it will ever look upon her like again. What chastity in her, what holiness, what gravity, what constancy! Twice she followed her husband into exile, a third time she was herself banished on her husband’s account.
Doleo enim feminam maximam eripi oculis civitatis, nescio an aliquid simile visuris. Quae castitas illi, quae sanctitas, quanta gravitas quanta constantia! Bis maritum secuta in exsilium est, tertio ipsa propter maritum relegata.
For when Senecio was on trial because he had composed books on the life of Helvidius, and had said in his defense that he was asked to do so by Fannia, when Mettius Carus asked threateningly whether she had asked him, she answered: "I asked him"; whether she had given him her husband’s journals to write from: "I gave them"; whether with her mother’s knowledge: "Without it"; and to the last she let fall no word yielding to the danger.
Nam cum Senecio reus esset quod de vita Helvidi libros composuisset rogatumque se a Fannia in defensione dixisset, quaerente minaciter Mettio Caro, an rogasset respondit: ’Rogavi’; an commentarios scripturo dedisset: ’Dedi’; an sciente matre: ’Nesciente’; postremo nullam vocem cedentem periculo emisit.
Nay, those very books, although abolished by decree of the senate out of the necessity and fear of the times, when her goods were confiscated she kept and held, and carried into exile the very cause of her exile.
Quin etiam illos ipsos libros, quamquam ex necessitate et metu temporum abolitos senatus consulto, publicatis bonis servavit habuit, tulitque in exsilium exsili causam.
The same woman, how agreeable, how courteous, how — what is granted to few — no less lovable than venerable! Will there be one whom hereafter we can hold up to our wives? Will there be one from whom even men may take examples of fortitude, whom, beholding and hearing her, we may so admire as those women of whom we read?
Eadem quam iucunda quam comis, quam denique - quod paucis datum est - non minus amabilis quam veneranda! Eritne quam postea uxoribus nostris ostentare possimus? Erit a qua viri quoque fortitudinis exempla sumamus, quam sic cernentes audientesque miremur, ut illas quae leguntur?
And to me the very house seems to totter, and, wrenched from its foundations, about to fall, though it still has descendants. For by what virtues, by what deeds, will they bring it about that she has not died the last of her line?
Ac mihi domus ipsa nutare, convulsaque sedibus suis ruitura supra videtur, licet adhuc posteros habeat. Quantis enim virtutibus quantisque factis assequentur, ut haec non novissima occiderit?
Me indeed this also afflicts and tortures, that I seem to lose again her mother — that mother of so great a woman, than which I can say nothing more illustrious — whom, as this one restores and renders to us, so she will carry off with her, and will afflict me at once with a new wound and one reopened.
Me quidem illud etiam affligit et torquet, quod matrem eius, illam - nihil possum illustrius dicere - tantae feminae matrem, rursus videor amittere, quam haec, ut reddit ac refert nobis, sic auferet secum, meque et novo pariter et rescisso vulnere afficiet.
I honored both, I loved both: which the more, I know not, nor did they wish it to be distinguished. They had my services in prosperity, they had them in adversity. I was the solace of the banished, the avenger of the returned; yet I did not render the like, and the more on that account I desire that this one be preserved, that there may remain to me time for paying my debt.
Utramque colui utramque dilexi: utram magis nescio, nec discerni volebant. Habuerunt officia mea in secundis, habuerunt in adversis. Ego solacium relegatarum, ego ultor reversarum; non feci tamen paria atque eo magis hanc cupio servari, ut mihi solvendi tempora supersint.
In these cares was I, when I wrote to you; which if some god turn into joy, I will not complain of the fear. Farewell.
In his eram curis, cum scriberem ad te; quas si deus aliquis in gaudium verterit, de metu non querar. Vale.
I have read your book, and, as carefully as I could, noted what I thought should be changed, what struck out. For I am accustomed both to speak the truth, and you to hear it gladly. For none are reproved more patiently than those who most deserve to be praised.
Librum tuum legi et, quam diligentissime potui, adnotavi quae commutanda, quae eximenda arbitrarer. Nam et ego verum dicere assuevi, et tu libenter audire. Neque enim ulli patientius reprehenduntur, quam qui maxime laudari merentur.
Now I await my book from you with your annotations. O pleasant, O lovely exchange! How it delights me that, if posterity have any care of us, it will everywhere be told with what concord, simplicity, and faith we lived!
Nunc a te librum meum cum adnotationibus tuis exspecto. O iucundas, o pulchras vices! Quam me delectat quod, si qua posteris cura nostri, usquequaque narrabitur, qua concordia simplicitate fide vixerimus!
It will be a rare and signal thing, that two men, almost equal in age and rank, of some name in letters — for I am forced to speak the more sparingly of you too, since I speak of myself at the same time — fostered each the other’s pursuits.
Erit rarum et insigne, duos homines aetate dignitate propemodum aequales, non nullius in litteris nominis - cogor enim de te quoque parcius dicere, quia de me simul dico -, alterum alterius studia fovisse.
Indeed as a very young man, when you were already flourishing in fame and glory, I longed to follow you, to be and to be reckoned "next, but at a long interval" to you. And there were many most brilliant talents; but you to me — so the likeness of our natures bore it — seemed most imitable, most to be imitated.
Equidem adulescentulus, cum iam tu fama gloriaque floreres, te sequi, tibi ’longo sed proximus intervallo’ et esse et haberi concupiscebam. Et erant multa clarissima ingenia; sed tu mihi - ita similitudo naturae ferebat - maxime imitabilis, maxime imitandus videbaris.
The more I rejoice that, if there is any talk of studies, we are named together, that to those speaking of you I straightway occur. Nor are there lacking those who are preferred to us both.
Quo magis gaudeo, quod si quis de studiis sermo, una nominamur, quod de te loquentibus statim occurro. Nec desunt qui utrique nostrum praeferantur.
But we — it matters nothing to me in what place — are joined; for to me he is first who is nearest to you. Nay, in wills too you must have noticed: unless one happen to be a particular friend of one or the other of us, we receive the same legacies, and that equally.
Sed nos, nihil interest mea quo loco, iungimur; nam mihi primus, qui a te proximus. Quin etiam in testamentis debes adnotasse: nisi quis forte alterutri nostrum amicissimus, eadem legata et quidem pariter accipimus.
All which things look to this — that we love each other the more ardently, since so many bonds bind us together: studies, character, fame, and at last the final judgments of men. Farewell.
Quae omnia huc spectant, ut invicem ardentius diligamus, cum tot vinculis nos studia mores fama, suprema denique hominum iudicia constringant. Vale.
I obey, dearest colleague, and consult, as you bid, the weakness of my eyes. For I came hither in a covered carriage, shut in on every side as in a chamber; and here I abstain — with difficulty — not only from the pen but even from reading, and study with the ears alone.
Pareo, collega carissime, et infirmitati oculorum ut iubes consulo. Nam et huc tecto vehiculo undique inclusus quasi in cubiculo perveni et hic non stilo modo verum etiam lectionibus difficulter sed abstineo, solisque auribus studeo.
My bedchambers I make shady with drawn curtains, yet not dark. The covered colonnade too, with its lower windows closed, has as much shade as light. Thus little by little I learn again to bear the light.
Cubicula obductis velis opaca nec tamen obscura facio. Cryptoporticus quoque adopertis inferioribus fenestris tantum umbrae quantum luminis habet. Sic paulatim lucem ferre condisco.
I take the bath, because it does good; wine, because it does no harm — yet most sparingly. So I have grown used, and now there is a keeper at hand.
Balineum assumo quia prodest, vinum quia non nocet, parcissime tamen. Ita assuevi, et nunc custos adest.
The hen, as sent by you, I gladly received; which, with eyes sharp enough, though still bleared, I saw to be very fat. Farewell.
Gallinam ut a te missam libenter accepi; quam satis acribus oculis, quamquam adhuc lippus, pinguissimam vidi. Vale.
You will wonder the less that I so urgently begged you to confer the tribunate on my friend, when you learn who and what manner of man he is. Now indeed I can both tell you his name and describe him, since you have given your promise.
Minus miraberis me tam instanter petisse, ut in amicum meum conferres tribunatum, cum scieris quis ille qualisque. Possum autem iam tibi et nomen indicare et describere ipsum, postquam polliceris.
It is Cornelius Minicianus, the ornament of my region whether in rank or in character. Splendidly born, he abounds in means, loves learning as the poor are wont to. He is likewise a most upright judge, a most courageous advocate, a most faithful friend.
Est Cornelius Minicianus, ornamentum regionis meae seu dignitate seu moribus. Natus splendide abundat facultatibus, amat studia ut solent pauperes. Idem rectissimus iudex, fortissimus advocatus, amicus fidelissimus.
You will believe you have received a benefit, when you have inspected more closely a man equal to all honors, all distinctions — I would say nothing too lofty of a most modest man. Farewell.
Accepisse te beneficium credes, cum propius inspexeris hominem omnibus honoribus, omnibus titulis - nihil volo elatius de modestissimo viro dicere - parem. Vale.
I rejoice indeed that you are so strong as to be able to meet Tiro at Mediolanum; but that you may continue to be so strong, I beg you not to lay upon yourself, against the reckoning of your age, so much labor. Nay rather I charge you to await him both at home, and within the house, and even within the threshold of your chamber.
Gaudeo quidem esse te tam fortem, ut Mediolani occurrere Tironi possis, sed ut perseveres esse tam fortis, rogo ne tibi contra rationem aetatis tantum laboris iniungas. Quin immo denuntio, ut illum et domi et intra domum atque etiam intra cubiculi limen exspectes.
For, since he is loved by me as a brother, he ought not to exact from one whom I observe in a parent’s place an office which he would have remitted to his own parent. Farewell.
Etenim, cum a me ut frater diligatur, non debet ab eo quem ego parentis loco observo, exigere officium quod parenti suo remisisset. Vale.
Ummidia Quadratilla has died, a little short of her eightieth year, hale up to her last illness, and beyond the matronly measure of close-knit and robust body.
Ummidia Quadratilla paulo minus octogensimo aetatis anno decessit usque ad novissimam valetudinem viridis, atque etiam ultra matronalem modum compacto corpore et robusto.
She died with a most honorable will: she left as heirs her grandson to two-thirds, her granddaughter to a third. The granddaughter I scarcely know, the grandson I love most intimately, a singular young man, to be loved among kinsmen not only by those whom he touches by blood.
Decessit honestissimo testamento: reliquit heredes ex besse nepotem, ex tertia parte neptem. Neptem parum novi, nepotem familiarissime diligo, adulescentem singularem nec iis tantum, quos sanguine attingit, inter propinquos amandum.
And first, conspicuous in beauty, he escaped all the talk of the malicious, both as boy and as youth; before his twenty-fourth year a husband, and, had a god granted it, a father. He lived in the household of a luxurious grandmother most strictly, and yet most obediently.
Ac primum conspicuus forma omnes sermones malignorum et puer et iuvenis evasit, intra quartum et vicensimum annum maritus, et si deus adnuisset pater. Vixit in contubernio aviae delicatae severissime, et tamen obsequentissime.
She kept pantomime-actors and cherished them more lavishly than became a woman of rank. These Quadratus would watch neither in the theater nor at home, nor did she require it.
Habebat illa pantomimos fovebatque, effusius quam principi feminae convenit. Hos Quadratus non in theatro, non domi spectabat, nec illa exigebat.
I heard from her own lips, when she was commending her grandson’s studies to me, that she was wont — as a woman, in that leisure of her sex — to relax her mind with the play of draughts, and to watch her pantomimes; but that, when she was about to do either, she always bade her grandson go off and study; which she seemed to me to do not more from love of him than from reverence.
Audivi ipsam cum mihi commendaret nepotis sui studia, solere se, ut feminam in illo otio sexus, laxare animum lusu calculorum, solere spectare pantomimos suos, sed cum factura esset alterutrum, semper se nepoti suo praecepisse abiret studeretque; quod mihi non amore eius magis facere quam reverentia videbatur.
You will wonder, and I wondered too. At the last priestly games, when the pantomimes had been brought out at the opening, as Quadratus and I were leaving the theater together, he said to me: "Do you know that today, for the first time, I have seen my grandmother’s freedman dance?" So said the grandson.
Miraberis, et ego miratus sum. Proximis sacerdotalibus ludis, productis in commissione pantomimis, cum simul theatro ego et Quadratus egrederemur, ait mihi: ’Scis me hodie primum vidisse saltantem aviae meae libertum?’ Hoc nepos.
But, by Hercules, men quite unconnected, in honor of Quadratilla — I am ashamed to have said honor — through the office of flattery kept running into the theater, leaping up, clapping, marveling, and then echoing back the lady’s several gestures with their songs; who now will receive the slenderest legacies — the gratuity of theatrical service — from the heir who did not even watch.
At hercule alienissimi homines in honorem Quadratillae - pudet me dixisse honorem - per adulationis officium in theatrum cursitabant exsultabant plaudebant mirabantur ac deinde singulos gestus dominae cum canticis reddebant; qui nunc exiguissima legata, theatralis operae corollarium, accipient ab herede, qui non spectabat.
This I write because you are not unwilling, if anything new turn up, to hear it; and then because it is pleasant to me to renew by the writing the joy I had taken. For I rejoice in the dead woman’s affection, in the honor done an excellent young man; I am glad too that the house once of Gaius Cassius — of him who was the head and parent of the Cassian school — will serve a master no less great.
Haec, quia soles si quid incidit novi non invitus audire, deinde quia iucundum est mihi quod ceperam gaudium scribendo retractare. Gaudeo enim pietate defunctae, honore optimi iuvenis; laetor etiam quod domus aliquando C. Cassi, huius qui Cassianae scholae princeps et parens fuit, serviet domino non minori.
For my Quadratus will fill it and become it, and restore to it its former dignity, fame, and renown, when from it there shall come forth an orator as great as that man was a jurisconsult. Farewell.
Implebit enim illam Quadratus meus et decebit, rursusque ei pristinam dignitatem celebritatem gloriam reddet, cum tantus orator inde procedet, quantus iuris ille consultus. Vale.
O how much of the learned does either their own modesty or their quietness veil and withdraw from fame! Yet we fear only those who bring out their studies, when about to say or read anything; while they who keep silent give this much more, that by their silence they do reverence to their greatest work.
O quantum eruditorum aut modestia ipsorum aut quies operit ac subtrahit famae! At nos eos tantum dicturi aliquid aut lecturi timemus, qui studia sua proferunt, cum illi qui tacent hoc amplius praestent, quod maximum opus silentio reverentur.
I write from experience what I write. Terentius Junior, having most blamelessly discharged the equestrian services and even the procuratorship of the province of Narbonensis, withdrew to his fields, and to honors made ready preferred the most tranquil leisure.
Expertus scribo quod scribo. Terentius Iunior, equestribus militiis atque etiam procuratione Narbonensis provinciae integerrime functus, recepit se in agros suos, paratisque honoribus tranquillissimum otium praetulit.
Him, invited as a guest, I regarded as a good head of a household, as a diligent farmer, meaning to talk of the matters in which I supposed him versed; and I had begun, when he recalled me, by most learned discourse, to studies.
Hunc ego invitatus hospitio ut bonum patrem familiae, ut diligentem agricolam intuebar, de his locuturus, in quibus illum versari putabam; et coeperam, cum ille me doctissimo sermone revocavit ad studia.
How polished was it all, how Latin, how Greek! For he is so strong in either tongue that he seems to excel most in that in which he is at the moment speaking. How much he reads, how much he holds! You would think the man lived at Athens, not in a country house.
Quam tersa omnia, quam Latina, quam Graeca! Nam tantum utraque lingua valet, ut ea magis videatur excellere, qua cum maxime loquitur. Quantum ille legit, quantum tenet! Athenis vivere hominem, non in villa putes.
In short, he increased my anxiety, and made me revere these men, withdrawn and as it were rustic, no less than those whom I know to be most learned.
Quid multa? Auxit sollicitudinem meam effecitque ut illis quos doctissimos novi, non minus hos seductos et quasi rusticos verear.
The same I urge upon you: for there are, as in a camp so in our literature too, many in peasant dress whom, well-girt and armed, and of the most ardent talent, you will find if you search diligently. Farewell.
Idem suadeo tibi: sunt enim ut in castris sic etiam in litteris nostris, plures cultu pagano quos cinctos et armatos, et quidem ardentissimo ingenio, diligenter scrutatus invenies. Vale.
Lately the sickness of a certain friend reminded me that we are best while we are ill. For what sick man is troubled by avarice or lust?
Nuper me cuiusdam amici languor admonuit, optimos esse nos dum infirmi sumus. Quem enim infirmum aut avaritia aut libido sollicitat?
He is not a slave to loves, does not court honors, neglects wealth, and, as one about to leave it, holds however little enough. Then he remembers there are gods, then that he is a man; he envies none, admires none, despises none, nor does he heed or feed on malicious talk: he dreams of baths and springs.
Non amoribus servit, non appetit honores, opes neglegit et quantulumcumque, ut relicturus, satis habet. Tunc deos tunc hominem esse se meminit, invidet nemini neminem miratur neminem despicit, ac ne sermonibus quidem malignis aut attendit aut alitur: balinea imaginatur et fontes.
These are the sum of his cares, the sum of his prayers; and for the future, if he chance to escape, he marks out a soft and easy — that is, an innocent and blessed — life.
Haec summa curarum, summa votorum mollemque in posterum et pinguem, si contingat evadere, hoc est innoxiam beatamque destinat vitam.
I can therefore prescribe briefly to you and to myself what the philosophers try to teach in many words, even in many volumes: that we persevere in being, while well, such as we profess we shall be when ill. Farewell.
Possum ergo quod plurimis verbis, plurimis etiam voluminibus philosophi docere conantur, ipse breviter tibi mihique praecipere, ut tales esse sani perseveremus, quales nos futuros profitemur infirmi. Vale.
Leisure affords me the means of learning, and you of teaching. So I should very much like to know whether you think there are phantoms, and that they have a shape of their own and some divine power, or that, empty and vain, they take their form from our fear.
Et mihi discendi et tibi docendi facultatem otium praebet. Igitur perquam velim scire, esse phantasmata et habere propriam figuram numenque aliquod putes an inania et vana ex metu nostro imaginem accipere.
That I should believe they exist, I am led chiefly by what I hear befell Curtius Rufus. While still of slender means and obscure, he had attached himself as companion to the man who governed Africa. As the day declined, he was walking in a colonnade; there is offered to him the figure of a woman, larger and fairer than human. To him in his terror she said she was Africa, the foreteller of things to come: for he would go to Rome and hold offices, and would even, with the highest command, return to that same province, and there die.
Ego ut esse credam in primis eo ducor, quod audio accidisse Curtio Rufo. Tenuis adhuc et obscurus, obtinenti Africam comes haeserat. Inclinato die spatiabatur in porticu; offertur ei mulieris figura humana grandior pulchriorque. Perterrito Africam se futurorum praenuntiam dixit: iturum enim Romam honoresque gesturum, atque etiam cum summo imperio in eandem provinciam reversurum, ibique moriturum.
All these things came to pass. Moreover, as he drew near to Carthage and was disembarking from the ship, the same figure is said to have met him on the shore. He himself, at any rate, entangled in sickness, augured the future from the past, adversity from prosperity, and cast away the hope of recovery, though none of his people despaired.
Facta sunt omnia. Praeterea accedenti Carthaginem egredientique nave eadem figura in litore occurrisse narratur. Ipse certe implicitus morbo futura praeteritis, adversa secundis auguratus, spem salutis nullo suorum desperante proiecit.
Now is not that other thing both more terrible and no less marvelous, which I will set forth as I received it?
Iam illud nonne et magis terribile et non minus mirum est quod exponam ut accepi?
There was at Athens a house, spacious and capacious, but ill-famed and pestilent. Through the silence of the night a sound of iron, and, if you listened more sharply, a clanking of chains, was returned, at first from farther off, then from close at hand: soon there appeared a specter, an old man worn with leanness and squalor, with a flowing beard and bristling hair; on his legs he wore fetters, on his hands chains, and shook them.
Erat Athenis spatiosa et capax domus sed infamis et pestilens. Per silentium noctis sonus ferri, et si attenderes acrius, strepitus vinculorum longius primo, deinde e proximo reddebatur: mox apparebat idolon, senex macie et squalore confectus, promissa barba horrenti capillo; cruribus compedes, manibus catenas gerebat quatiebatque.
Thence for the dwellers there, through dread, sad and dreadful nights were passed in waking; sickness followed the waking, and, as the terror grew, death. For by day too, although the apparition had withdrawn, the memory of the apparition wandered before their eyes, and the fear was longer than its causes. So the house was deserted and condemned to solitude, and wholly left to that monster; yet it was advertised, in case anyone, ignorant of so great an evil, should wish to buy or to rent it.
Inde inhabitantibus tristes diraeque noctes per metum vigilabantur; vigiliam morbus et crescente formidine mors sequebatur. Nam interdiu quoque, quamquam abscesserat imago, memoria imaginis oculis inerrabat, longiorque causis timoris timor erat. Deserta inde et damnata solitudine domus totaque illi monstro relicta; proscribebatur tamen, seu quis emere seu quis conducere ignarus tanti mali vellet.
There came to Athens the philosopher Athenodorus, read the notice, and, on hearing the price, because its cheapness was suspect, made full inquiry and was told everything, and none the less — nay, all the more — rented it. When evening began to come on, he ordered a couch to be spread for him in the front part of the house, called for his tablets, his pen, a light, and sent all his people within. He himself set his mind, his eyes, his hand to writing, lest his mind, left vacant, should feign the specters it had heard of and idle terrors of its own.
Venit Athenas philosophus Athenodorus, legit titulum auditoque pretio, quia suspecta vilitas, percunctatus omnia docetur ac nihilo minus, immo tanto magis conducit. Ubi coepit advesperascere, iubet sterni sibi in prima domus parte, poscit pugillares stilum lumen, suos omnes in interiora dimittit; ipse ad scribendum animum oculos manum intendit, ne vacua mens audita simulacra et inanes sibi metus fingeret.
At first, the silence of the night, as everywhere; then the iron was shaken, the chains stirred. He did not raise his eyes, nor lay down his pen, but steadied his mind and stopped his ears against the sound. Then the din grew more frequent, drew nearer, and was heard now as it were on the threshold, now within the threshold. He looks round, sees and recognizes the figure that had been described to him.
Initio, quale ubique, silentium noctis; dein concuti ferrum, vincula moveri. Ille non tollere oculos, non remittere stilum, sed offirmare animum auribusque praetendere. Tum crebrescere fragor, adventare et iam ut in limine, iam ut intra limen audiri. Respicit, videt agnoscitque narratam sibi effigiem.
It stood and beckoned with its finger, like one summoning. He, in answer, signs with his hand that it should wait a little, and bends again over his wax and pen. It rattled its chains over the head of him as he wrote. He looks round again at the same figure beckoning as before, and, without delay, takes up the light and follows.
Stabat innuebatque digito similis vocanti. Hic contra ut paulum exspectaret manu significat rursusque ceris et stilo incumbit. Illa scribentis capiti catenis insonabat. Respicit rursus idem quod prius innuentem, nec moratus tollit lumen et sequitur.
It went with slow step, as if weighed down by its chains. After it had turned aside into the courtyard of the house, suddenly melting away it deserts its companion. Deserted, he marks the spot with plucked grass and leaves.
Ibat illa lento gradu quasi gravis vinculis. Postquam deflexit in aream domus, repente dilapsa deserit comitem. Desertus herbas et folia concerpta signum loco ponit.
The next day he goes to the magistrates, and advises them to order that place to be dug up. There are found bones inserted into chains and entangled with them, which the body, rotted by age and the earth, had left bare and gnawed within the fetters; gathered up, they are buried at public charge. Thereafter the house, the dead rightly laid to rest, was free of them.
Postero die adit magistratus, monet ut illum locum effodi iubeant. Inveniuntur ossa inserta catenis et implicita, quae corpus aevo terraque putrefactum nuda et exesa reliquerat vinculis; collecta publice sepeliuntur. Domus postea rite conditis manibus caruit.
And these things, indeed, I believe on the word of those who affirm them; this I can myself affirm to others. I have a freedman, not unlettered. With him a younger brother was sleeping in the same bed. This brother seemed to see someone sitting on the couch, and bringing scissors to his head, and even cutting the hair from the very crown. When day broke, the man himself was found shorn about the crown, and the hairs lay scattered around.
Et haec quidem affirmantibus credo; illud affirmare aliis possum. Est libertus mihi non illitteratus. Cum hoc minor frater eodem lecto quiescebat. Is visus est sibi cernere quendam in toro residentem, admoventemque capiti suo cultros, atque etiam ex ipso vertice amputantem capillos. Ubi illuxit, ipse circa verticem tonsus, capilli iacentes reperiuntur.
A short space of time between, and again a like thing gave credit to the former. A slave-boy was sleeping, among many others, in the pages’ quarters. There came through the windows — so he tells it — two men in white tunics, and sheared him as he lay, and withdrew the way they had come. Him too the day showed shorn, and his hairs scattered around.
Exiguum temporis medium, et rursus simile aliud priori fidem fecit. Puer in paedagogio mixtus pluribus dormiebat. Venerunt per fenestras - ita narrat - in tunicis albis duo cubantemque detonderunt et qua venerant recesserunt. Hunc quoque tonsum sparsosque circa capillos dies ostendit.
Nothing notable followed, except perhaps that I was not put on trial — as I should have been, had Domitian, under whom these things happened, lived longer. For in his desk was found a paper laid against me by Carus; whence it may be conjectured that, since it is the custom of defendants to let their hair grow, the hairs cut from my people were a sign that the danger hanging over me was warded off.
Nihil notabile secutum, nisi forte quod non fui reus, futurus, si Domitianus sub quo haec acciderunt diutius vixisset. Nam in scrinio eius datus a Caro de me libellus inventus est; ex quo coniectari potest, quia reis moris est summittere capillum, recisos meorum capillos depulsi quod imminebat periculi signum fuisse.
Therefore I beg you to bend your learning to this. The matter is worthy that you should ponder it long and much; nor am I unworthy that you should impart to me the abundance of your knowledge.
Proinde rogo, eruditionem tuam intendas. Digna res est quam diu multumque consideres; ne ego quidem indignus, cui copiam scientiae tuae facias.
You may argue both sides, as is your way; yet argue more strongly on one, lest you dismiss me in suspense and uncertainty, when the very cause of my consulting you was that I might cease to doubt. Farewell.
Licet etiam utramque in partem - ut soles - disputes, ex altera tamen fortius, ne me suspensum incertumque dimittas, cum mihi consulendi causa fuerit, ut dubitare desinerem. Vale.
You say that certain persons in your company have found fault with me, on the ground that on every occasion I praise my friends beyond measure.
Ais quosdam apud te reprehendisse, tamquam amicos meos ex omni occasione ultra modum laudem.
I acknowledge the charge, I even embrace it. For what is more honorable than the fault of kindness? Yet who are these who know my friends better than I? But, granting they know them, why do they envy me my most happy error? For though they be not such as I proclaim them, yet I am blessed because they seem so to me.
Agnosco crimen, amplector etiam. Quid enim honestius culpa benignitatis? Qui sunt tamen isti, qui amicos meos melius norint? Sed, ut norint, quid invident mihi felicissimo errore? Ut enim non sint tales quales a me praedicantur, ego tamen beatus quod mihi videntur.
Let them therefore bring that ill-natured diligence to bear on others; and there are not a few who call carping at their friends judgment. Me they will never persuade that I think mine too much loved by me. Farewell.
Igitur ad alios hanc sinistram diligentiam conferant; nec sunt parum multi, qui carpere amicos suos iudicium vocant. Mihi numquam persuadebunt ut meos amari a me nimium putem. Vale.
You will laugh, then be indignant, then laugh again, if you read what, unless you read it, you cannot believe.
Ridebis, deinde indignaberis, deinde ridebis, si legeris, quod nisi legeris non potes credere.
There is on the Tiburtine Way, within the first milestone — I noted it lately — the monument of Pallas, inscribed thus: "To him the senate, for his loyalty and devotion toward his patrons, decreed the praetorian insignia and fifteen million sesterces, with whose honor alone he was content."
Est via Tiburtina intra primum lapidem - proxime adnotavi - monimentum Pallantis ita inscriptum: ’Huic senatus ob fidem pietatemque erga patronos ornamenta praetoria decrevit et sestertium centies quinquagies, cuius honore contentus fuit.’
For my own part I have never marveled at things that proceed oftener from fortune than from judgment; but most of all this inscription reminded me how mock-stage and absurd were the things sometimes flung down into this mire, into these dregs — which that gallows-bird both dared to accept and to refuse, and even to hand down to posterity as an example of moderation.
Equidem numquam sum miratus quae saepius a fortuna quam a iudicio proficiscerentur; maxime tamen hic me titulus admonuit, quam essent mimica et inepta, quae interdum in hoc caenum, in has sordes abicerentur, quae denique ille furcifer et recipere ausus est et recusare, atque etiam ut moderationis exemplum posteris prodere.
But why am I indignant? Better to laugh, lest they think they have attained some great thing, who come to this height of fortune — to be laughed at. Farewell.
Sed quid indignor? Ridere satius, ne se magnum aliquid adeptos putent, qui huc felicitate perveniunt ut rideantur. Vale.
I am tormented that you have lost, as you write, a pupil of the best promise. That your studies have been hindered by his sickness and death, how should I not know? — since you are most observant of all duties, and love most lavishly all whom you approve.
Torqueor quod discipulum, ut scribis, optimae spei amisisti. Cuius et valetudine et morte impedita studia tua quidni sciam? cum sis omnium officiorum observantissimus, cumque omnes quos probas effusissime diligas.
Me too even here city business pursues; for there are not wanting those who make me a judge or arbiter.
Me huc quoque urbana negotia persequuntur; non desunt enim qui me iudicem aut arbitrum faciant.
Add to this the complaints of the country folk, who after long absence make use — by their right — of my ears. There presses too the necessity of letting out my farms, a most troublesome thing: so rare is it to find suitable tenants.
Accedunt querelae rusticorum, qui auribus meis post longum tempus suo iure abutuntur. Instat et necessitas agrorum locandorum, perquam molesta: adeo rarum est invenire idoneos conductores.
For which reasons I study by stealth, yet I study. For I both write something and read; but when I read, I feel by the comparison how badly I write, though you give me good heart,
Quibus ex causis precario studeo, studeo tamen. Nam et scribo aliquid et lego; sed cum lego, ex comparatione sentio quam male scribam, licet tu mihi bonum animum facias,
you who compare my little books on the vengeance of Helvidius to Demosthenes’ speech "Against Meidias" (κατὰ μειδίου). Which indeed, when I was composing them, I had in my hands — not to rival it, for that were presumptuous and almost mad, but yet to imitate and follow, so far as the diversity of talents, the greatest and the least, or the unlikeness of the cause, would allow. Farewell.
qui libellos meos de ultione Helvidi orationi Demosthenis κατὰ μειδίου confers. Quam sane, cum componerem illos, habui in manibus, non ut aemularer - improbum enim ac paene furiosum -, sed tamen imitarer et sequerer, quantum aut diversitas ingeniorum maximi et minimi, aut causae dissimilitudo pateretur. Vale.
Claudius Pollio desires to be loved by you, worthy of this by the very fact that he desires it, and then because he himself loves you; for scarcely anyone asks this who does not do it. He is, besides, a man upright, blameless, quiet, and almost beyond measure — if any can be beyond measure — modest.
Claudius Pollio amari a te cupit dignus hoc ipso quod cupit, deinde quod ipse te diligit; neque enim fere quisquam exigit istud nisi qui facit. Vir alioqui rectus integer quietus ac paene ultra modum - si quis tamen ultra modum - verecundus.
Him, when we served together, I beheld not as a fellow-soldier only. He commanded a cavalry regiment a thousand strong; I, ordered by the consular legate to examine the accounts of the cavalry regiments and cohorts, found, as in some a great and shameful avarice and an equal negligence, so in him the utmost integrity and an anxious diligence.
Hunc, cum simul militaremus, non solum ut commilito inspexi. Praeerat alae miliariae; ego iussus a legato consulari rationes alarum et cohortium excutere, ut magnam quorundam foedamque avaritiam, neglegentiam parem, ita huius summam integritatem, sollicitam diligentiam inveni.
Afterward, promoted to the most considerable procuratorships, corrupted by no occasion, he never swerved from his ingrained love of abstinence; never swelled up in prosperity; never, amid the variety of his offices, broke the unbroken praise of his humanity, and met his labors with the same firmness of mind with which he now bears his leisure.
Postea promotus ad amplissimas procurationes, nulla occasione corruptus ab insito abstinentiae amore deflexit; numquam secundis rebus intumuit; numquam officiorum varietate continuam laudem humanitatis infregit, eademque firmitate animi laboribus suffecit, qua nunc otium patitur.
Which indeed, to his great praise, he for a little while broke off and laid aside, when by our Corellius, out of the emperor Nerva’s liberality, he was taken as a helper in buying and dividing lands. For of what glory it is worthy, to have been especially pleasing to a most great man, with so great a freedom of choosing!
Quod quidem paulisper cum magna sua laude intermisit et posuit, a Corellio nostro ex liberalitate imperatoris Nervae emendis dividendisque agris adiutor assumptus. Etenim qua gloria dignum est, summo viro in tanta eligendi facultate praecipue placuisse!
How reverently, how faithfully he honors his friends, you may believe from the final judgments of many — among them Annius Bassus, a most weighty citizen — whose memory he prolongs and extends by so grateful a proclaiming, that he has published a book on his life — for he reveres studies too, as he does the other good arts.
Idem quam reverenter, quam fideliter amicos colat, multorum supremis iudiciis, in his Anni Bassi gravissimi civis, credere potes, cuius memoriam tam grata praedicatione prorogat et extendit, ut librum de vita eius - nam studia quoque sicut alias bonas artes veneratur - ediderit.
A fair thing, and to be approved by its very rarity, since most people remember the dead only so far as to complain of them.
Pulchrum istud et raritate ipsa probandum, cum plerique hactenus defunctorum meminerint ut querantur.
This man, most desirous of you, embrace, lay hold of — believe me — nay, even invite, and so love him as though you were returning a favor. For he is to be requited, not obliged, in the office of love, who began first. Farewell.
Hunc hominem appetentissimum tui, mihi crede, complectere apprehende, immo et invita, ac sic ama tamquam gratiam referas. Neque enim obligandus sed remunerandus est in amoris officio, qui prior coepit. Vale.
I am delighted that the arrival of my Tiro was pleasant to you; and that, as you write, on the occasion of the proconsul’s coming very many were manumitted, I am singularly glad. For I desire our native town to be increased in all things indeed, but most of all in the number of its citizens: for that is a town’s firmest ornament.
Delector iucundum tibi fuisse Tironis mei adventum; quod vero scribis oblata occasione proconsulis plurimos manumissos, unice laetor. Cupio enim patriam nostram omnibus quidem rebus augeri, maxime tamen civium numero: id enim oppidis firmissimum ornamentum.
This too gratifies me — not, I would have you think, as an ambitious man, yet it gratifies me — that you add that both you and I were celebrated with thanksgiving and praise. For, as Xenophon says, "praise is the sweetest of sounds" (ἥδιστον ἄκουσμα ἔπαινος), especially if you think you deserve it. Farewell.
Illud etiam me non ut ambitiosum sed tamen iuvat, quod adicis te meque et gratiarum actione et laude celebratos. Est enim, ut Xenophon ait, ἥδιστον ἄκουσμα ἔπαινος, utique si te mereri putes. Vale.
I divine — and my divination does not deceive me — that your histories will be immortal; the more, therefore — I will confess it frankly — I long to be inserted in them.
Auguror nec me fallit augurium, historias tuas immortales futuras; quo magis illis - ingenue fatebor - inseri cupio.
For if it is wont to be our care that our face be portrayed by the best artist, ought we not to wish that for our deeds there fall a writer and herald like you?
Nam si esse nobis curae solet ut facies nostra ab optimo quoque artifice exprimatur, nonne debemus optare, ut operibus nostris similis tui scriptor praedicatorque contingat?
I point out, then — although it cannot escape your diligence, since it is in the public records — yet I point it out, that you may the more believe it will be pleasant to me, if you adorn with your genius, with your testimony, a deed of mine whose glory grew by its danger.
Demonstro ergo quamquam diligentiam tuam fugere non possit, cum sit in publicis actis, demonstro tamen quo magis credas, iucundum mihi futurum si factum meum, cuius gratia periculo crevit, tuo ingenio tuo testimonio ornaveris.
The senate had given me, with Herennius Senecio, as advocate for the province of Baetica against Baebius Massa, and, Massa being condemned, had decreed that his goods be kept under public guard. Senecio, having ascertained that the consuls would be free to receive petitions, came to me and said: "With what concord we have carried out the accusation enjoined upon us, with the same let us approach the consuls and beg that they suffer not the goods to be scattered, which they ought to keep in custody."
Dederat me senatus cum Herennio Senecione advocatum provinciae Baeticae contra Baebium Massam, damnatoque Massa censuerat, ut bona eius publice custodirentur. Senecio, cum explorasset consules postulationibus vacaturos, convenit me et ’Qua concordia’ inquit ’iniunctam nobis accusationem exsecuti sumus, hac adeamus consules petamusque, ne bona dissipari sinant, quorum esse in custodia debent.’
I answered: "Since we are advocates given by the senate, consider whether you think our part finished, the senate’s inquiry being ended." And he: "You may set yourself what limit you will, who have no tie with the province save from your own benefit, and that a recent one; I was both born there and was quaestor in it."
Respondi: ’Cum simus advocati a senatu dati, dispice num peractas putes partes nostras senatus cognitione finita.’ Et ille: ’Tu quem voles tibi terminum statues, cui nulla cum provincia necessitudo nisi ex beneficio tuo et hoc recenti; ipse et natus ibi et quaestor in ea fui.’
Then I: "If this is fixed and settled with you, I will follow you, that, if any odium arise from it, it be not yours alone."
Tum ego: ’Si fixum tibi istud ac deliberatum, sequar te ut, si qua ex hoc invidia, non tantum tua.’
We came to the consuls; Senecio said what the matter required, I added something. Scarcely had we fallen silent, when Massa, complaining that Senecio had discharged not the loyalty of an advocate but the bitterness of an enemy, demands him as a defendant for impiety.
Venimus ad consules; dicit Senecio quae res ferebat, aliqua subiungo. Vixdum conticueramus, et Massa questus Senecionem non advocati fidem sed inimici amaritudinem implesse, impietatis reum postulat.
Horror upon all; but I said: "I fear, most illustrious consuls, lest Massa by his silence have charged me with collusion, in that he did not demand me too as a defendant." Which word was both at once caught up, and afterward celebrated in much talk.
Horror omnium; ego autem ’Vereor’ inquam, ’clarissimi consules, ne mihi Massa silentio suo praevaricationem obiecerit, quod non et me reum postulavit.’ Quae vox et statim excepta, et postea multo sermone celebrata est.
The deified Nerva indeed — for as a private man too he attended to whatever was rightly done in public — sending me a most weighty letter, congratulated not me only but the age, to which had fallen an example — for so he wrote — like those of old.
Divus quidem Nerva - nam privatus quoque attendebat his quae recte in publico fierent - missis ad me gravissimis litteris non mihi solum, verum etiam saeculo est gratulatus, cui exemplum - sic enim scripsit - simile antiquis contigisset.
These things, however they stand, you will make better known, more famous, greater; though I do not require that you exceed the measure of the matter as it was done. For history ought not to overstep the truth, and for honorable deeds the truth suffices. Farewell.
Haec, utcumque se habent, notiora clariora maiora tu facies; quamquam non exigo ut excedas actae rei modum. Nam nec historia debet egredi veritatem, et honeste factis veritas sufficit. Vale.
I accomplished my journey comfortably, except that some of my people contracted ill-health in the most burning heat.
Iter commode explicui, excepto quod quidam ex meis adversam valetudinem ferventissimis aestibus contraxerunt.
Encolpius indeed, my reader — he my serious business, he my delight — with his throat inflamed by the dust, has coughed up blood. How sad this for himself, how bitter for me, if he to whom all my charm comes from letters should be unfit for letters! Who then will read my little books as he does, love them as he does?
Encolpius quidem lector, ille seria nostra ille deliciae, exasperatis faucibus pulvere sanguinem reiecit. Quam triste hoc ipsi, quam acerbum mihi, si is cui omnis ex studiis gratia inhabilis studiis fuerit! Quis deinde libellos meos sic leget, sic amabit?
Whom will my ears follow so? But the gods promise happier things. The bleeding has stopped, the pain has subsided. Besides, he is temperate himself, we are anxious, the physicians diligent. To this add the healthfulness of the climate; the retreat and its quiet promise as much recovery as leisure. Farewell.
Quem aures meae sic sequentur? Sed di laetiora promittunt. Stetit sanguis, resedit dolor. Praeterea continens ipse, nos solliciti, medici diligentes. Ad hoc salubritas caeli, secessus quies tantum salutis quantum otii pollicentur. Vale.
Others set out for their estates to come back the richer; I, to come back the poorer. I had sold my vintage to dealers competing to buy. The price invited it — both what it then was and what it seemed likely to be.
Alii in praedia sua proficiscuntur ut locupletiores revertantur, ego ut pauperior. Vendideram vindemias certatim negotiatoribus ementibus. Invitabat pretium, et quod tunc et quod fore videbatur.
The hope failed. It would have been easy to make an equal remission to all, but not equal enough. To me, however, it seems above all admirable to practice justice abroad as at home, in great things as in small, in others’ affairs as in one’s own. For if faults are equal, the merits too are equal.
Spes fefellit. Erat expeditum omnibus remittere aequaliter, sed non satis aequum. Mihi autem egregium in primis videtur ut foris ita domi, ut in magnis ita in parvis, ut in alienis ita in suis agitare iustitiam. Nam si paria peccata, pares etiam laudes.
And so to all, that none "should go away ungifted by me," I granted an eighth part of the price at which each had bought; then to those who had engaged the largest sums in their purchases I attended separately. For they had both helped me more, and had themselves taken the greater loss.
Itaque omnibus quidem, ne quis ’mihi non donatus abiret’, partem octavam pretii quo quis emerat concessi; deinde iis, qui amplissimas summas emptionibus occupaverant, separatim consului. Nam et me magis iuverant, et maius ipsi fecerant damnum.
Therefore to those who had bought for more than ten thousand, to that common and, as it were, public eighth I added a tenth of the sum by which they had exceeded ten thousand.
Igitur iis qui pluris quam decem milibus emerant, ad illam communem et quasi publicam octavam addidi decimam eius summae, qua decem milia excesserant.
I fear I have expressed it too obscurely: let me show it more plainly by reckoning. If any had chanced to buy for fifteen thousand, these carried off both an eighth of the fifteen thousand and a tenth of the five thousand.
Vereor ne parum expresserim: apertius calculo ostendam. Si qui forte quindecim milibus emerant, hi et quindecim milium octavam et quinque milium decimam tulerunt.
Besides, when I reflected that some had paid back a good part of what they owed, some something, some nothing, I judged it by no means right that those whom good faith in payment had not made equal should be made equal by the bounty of remission.
Praeterea, cum reputarem quosdam ex debito aliquantum, quosdam aliquid, quosdam nihil reposuisse, nequaquam verum arbitrabar, quos non aequasset fides solutionis, hos benignitate remissionis aequari.
So again to those who had paid I remitted a tenth of what they had paid. For by this means it seemed most fitly both that, for the past, thanks were returned to each according to his desert, and that, for the future, all were drawn on both to buy and also to pay.
Rursus ergo iis qui solverant eius quod solverant decimam remisi. Per hoc enim aptissime et in praeteritum singulis pro cuiusque merito gratia referri, et in futurum omnes cum ad emendum tum etiam ad solvendum allici videbantur.
This policy, or this easiness, cost me much, but it was worth it. For throughout the whole district both the novelty of the remission and its design are praised. From the very men too whom I treated, as the saying goes, not with one measuring-rod but distinctly and by degrees, each went away the more bound to me the better and more honest he was, having found that with me it does not hold that "in one honor are the coward and the brave alike" (ἐν δὲ ἰῇ τιμῇ ἠμὲν κακὸς ἠδὲ καὶ ἐσθλός). Farewell.
Magno mihi seu ratio haec seu facilitas stetit, sed fuit tanti. Nam regione tota et novitas remissionis et forma laudatur. Ex ipsis etiam quos non una, ut dicitur, pertica sed distincte gradatimque tractavi, quanto quis melior et probior, tanto mihi obligatior abiit expertus non esse apud me ἐν δὲ ἰῇ τιμῇ ἠμὲν κακὸς ἠδὲ καὶ ἐσθλός. Vale.
The book I last sent you, you signify, pleases you above all of mine. A certain most learned man is of the same opinion.
Librum quem novissime tibi misi, ex omnibus meis vel maxime placere significas. Est eadem opinio cuiusdam eruditissimi.
I am the more led to think neither of you mistaken, because it is not credible that both are mistaken, and because, even so, I flatter myself. For I wish each latest thing to seem the most finished, and therefore already now, against that book, I favor a speech which I lately gave to the public, and which I shall share with you as soon as I find a careful courier.
Quo magis adducor ut neutrum falli putem, quia non est credibile utrumque falli, et quia tamen blandior mihi. Volo enim proxima quaeque absolutissima videri, et ideo iam nunc contra istum librum faveo orationi, quam nuper in publicum dedi communicaturus tecum, ut primum diligentem tabellarium invenero.
I have raised your expectation, which I fear the speech, once taken in hand, may disappoint. Meanwhile, however, await it as one that will please — and perhaps it will. Farewell.
Erexi exspectationem tuam, quam vereor ne destituat oratio in manus sumpta. Interim tamen tamquam placituram - et fortasse placebit - exspecta. Vale.
You do excellently to prepare to write of the Dacian war. For what theme is so fresh, so copious, so lofty — what, in short, so poetic and, though in the truest of matters, so fabulous?
Optime facis, quod bellum Dacicum scribere paras. Nam quae tam recens tam copiosa tam elata, quae denique tam poetica et quamquam in verissimis rebus tam fabulosa materia?
You will tell of new rivers let loose upon the land, new bridges thrown across the rivers, mountain precipices beset with camps, a king driven from his palace and driven even from life yet despairing of nothing; above this, two triumphs celebrated, of which the one was the first won from an unconquered people, the other the last.
Dices immissa terris nova flumina, novos pontes fluminibus iniectos, insessa castris montium abrupta, pulsum regia pulsum etiam vita regem nihil desperantem; super haec actos bis triumphos, quorum alter ex invicta gente primus, alter novissimus fuit.
One difficulty, but the greatest: that to match these in the telling is an arduous and measureless thing, even for your genius, though it rise to the highest and grow with the amplest works. There is some labor too in this, that the barbarous and savage names — above all the king’s own — should not jar against Greek verse.
Una sed maxima difficultas, quod haec aequare dicendo arduum immensum, etiam tuo ingenio, quamquam altissime assurgat et amplissimis operibus increscat. Non nullus et in illo labor, ut barbara et fera nomina, in primis regis ipsius, Graecis versibus non resultent.
But there is nothing that, if it cannot be conquered, may not be softened by art and care. Besides, if it is granted to Homer to contract, extend, and bend even soft words and Greek ones to the smoothness of his verse, why should a like daring — not a dainty one but a necessary one — not be granted to you?
Sed nihil est quod non arte curaque, si non potest vinci, mitigetur. Praeterea, si datur Homero et mollia vocabula et Graeca ad levitatem versus contrahere extendere inflectere, cur tibi similis audentia praesertim non delicata sed necessaria non detur?
So then, by the poets’ right, having invoked the gods — and among the gods him whose deeds, works, and counsels you are to tell — loose the ropes, spread the sails, and, if ever you did, be borne on with your whole genius. For why should not I too speak poetically with a poet?
Proinde iure vatum invocatis dis, et inter deos ipso, cuius res opera consilia dicturus es, immitte rudentes, pande vela ac, si quando alias, toto ingenio vehere. Cur enim non ego quoque poetice cum poeta?
This I bargain for already now: each first part, as soon as you finish it, send me — nay, even before you finish, just as they will be, fresh and rough and still like things newborn.
Illud iam nunc paciscor: prima quaeque ut absolveris mittito, immo etiam ante quam absolvas, sicut erunt recentia et rudia et adhuc similia nascentibus.
You will answer that things in pieces cannot please as things woven together, nor things begun as things finished. I know. And so by me they will be valued as beginnings, looked at as limbs, and will await your final file in my desk. Suffer me to have this, beyond all else, as a pledge of your love: that I should know even those things you would wish no one to know.
Respondebis non posse perinde carptim ut contexta, perinde incohata placere ut effecta. Scio. Itaque et a me aestimabuntur ut coepta, spectabuntur ut membra, extremamque limam tuam opperientur in scrinio nostro. Patere hoc me super cetera habere amoris tui pignus, ut ea quoque norim quae nosse neminem velles.
In sum, I shall perhaps be able to approve and praise your writings the more, the more slowly and cautiously you send them; but you yourself I shall love the more and praise the more, the more quickly and incautiously you send them. Farewell.
In summa potero fortasse scripta tua magis probare laudare, quanto illa tardius cautiusque, sed ipsum te magis amabo magisque laudabo, quanto celerius et incautius miseris. Vale.
Our Macrinus has taken a grievous wound: he has lost a wife of singular example, even had she lived in the old days. He lived with her thirty-nine years without a quarrel, without an offense. What reverence she showed her husband, when she herself deserved the highest! How many and how great virtues, drawn from different ages of life, she gathered and blended!
Grave vulnus Macrinus noster accepit: amisit uxorem singularis exempli, etiam si olim fuisset. Vixit cum hac triginta novem annis sine iurgio sine offensa. Quam illa reverentiam marito suo praestitit, cum ipsa summam mereretur! quot quantasque virtutes, ex diversis aetatibus sumptas, collegit et miscuit!
Macrinus has indeed a great consolation, that he held so great a good so long; but from this the more is he embittered, that he has lost it — for the grief of lacking grows with the pleasures once enjoyed.
Habet quidem Macrinus grande solacium, quod tantum bonum tam diu tenuit, sed hinc magis exacerbatur quod amisit; nam fruendis voluptatibus crescit carendi dolor.
I shall therefore be in suspense for a man most dear to me, until he can admit distractions and bear the scar — which nothing so much brings on as necessity itself and length of days and a surfeit of grief. Farewell.
Ero ergo suspensus pro homine amicissimo, dum admittere avocamenta et cicatricem pati possit, quam nihil aeque ac necessitas ipsa et dies longa et satietas doloris inducit. Vale.
You must already have learned from my letter that I lately noted the monument of Pallas under this inscription: "To this man the senate decreed, for his loyalty and devotion toward his patrons, the praetorian insignia and fifteen million sesterces, with the honor of which he was content."
Cognovisse iam ex epistula mea debes, adnotasse me nuper monumentum Pallantis sub hac inscriptione: ’Huic senatus ob fidem pietatemque erga patronos ornamenta praetoria decrevit et sestertium centies quinquagies, cuius honore contentus fuit.’
Afterward it seemed to me worth the trouble to seek out the senate’s decree itself. I found it so copious and so lavish that that most arrogant inscription seemed modest and even self-effacing. Let them range themselves and contend — I do not say those men of old, the Africani, the Achaici, the Numantini, but these more recent ones, the Marii, the Sullae, the Pompeii — I will not go further: they will lie beneath the praises of Pallas.
Postea mihi visum est pretium operae ipsum senatus consultum quaerere. Inveni tam copiosum et effusum, ut ille superbissimus titulus modicus atque etiam demissus videretur. Conferant se misceantque, non dico illi veteres, Africani Achaici Numantini, sed hi proximi Marii Sullae Pompei - nolo progredi longius -: infra Pallantis laudes iacebunt.
Shall I think those who voted these things witty, or wretched? I would call them witty, if wit became the senate; wretched — but no one is so wretched as to be forced to such things. Ambition, then, and a lust for advancement? But who is so mad as to wish to advance, through his own and the state’s disgrace, in a city where this was the use of the most flourishing rank — to be first in the senate able to praise Pallas?
Urbanos qui illa censuerunt putem an miseros? Dicerem urbanos, si senatum deceret urbanitas; miseros, sed nemo tam miser est ut illa cogatur. Ambitio ergo et procedendi libido? Sed quis adeo demens, ut per suum, per publicum dedecus procedere velit in ea civitate, in qua hic esset usus florentissimae dignitatis, ut primus in senatu laudare Pallantem posset?
I pass over that praetorian insignia are offered to Pallas, a slave — offered, indeed, by slaves; I pass over that they vote he be not only exhorted but even compelled to wear the gold ring — for it was against the majesty of the senate that a man of praetorian rank should wear an iron one.
Mitto quod Pallanti servo praetoria ornamenta offeruntur - quippe offeruntur a servis -, mitto quod censent non exhortandum modo verum etiam compellendum ad usum aureorum anulorum; erat enim contra maiestatem senatus, si ferreis praetorius uteretur.
These are slight things and to be passed over; this is to be recorded — that in the name of Pallas the senate (nor was the senate-house ever afterward purified), in the name of Pallas the senate gives thanks to Caesar, both that he had himself attended his mention with the highest honor and had given the senate the opportunity of attesting its goodwill toward him.
Levia haec et transeunda, illa memoranda quod nomine Pallantis senatus - nec expiata postea curia est -, Pallantis nomine senatus gratias agit Caesari, quod et ipse cum summo honore mentionem eius prosecutus esset et senatui facultatem fecisset testandi erga eum benevolentiam suam.
For what fairer for the senate than to seem grateful enough toward Pallas? It is added: "That Pallas, to whom all confess themselves obliged, each to the utmost of his power, may most deservedly bear the fruit of his singular loyalty, his singular diligence." You would think the bounds of the empire had been extended, armies restored to the commonwealth.
Quid enim senatui pulchrius, quam ut erga Pallantem satis gratus videretur? Additur: ’Ut Pallas, cui se omnes pro virili parte obligatos fatentur, singularis fidei singularis industriae fructum meritissimo ferat’. Prolatos imperii fines, redditos exercitus rei publicae credas.
To these is built on: "Since to the senate and the Roman people no more welcome occasion of liberality could be presented than if it should fall to them to assist the means of the most abstinent and most faithful guardian of the imperial finances." This then was the senate’s prayer, this the people’s chief joy, this the most welcome occasion of liberality — if it should fall to them to assist the means of Pallas by draining the public funds.
Astruitur his: ’Cum senatui populoque Romano liberalitatis gratior repraesentari nulla materia posset, quam si abstinentissimi fidelissimique custodis principalium opum facultates adiuvare contigisset’. Hoc tunc votum senatus, hoc praecipuum gaudium populi, haec liberalitatis materia gratissima, si Pallantis facultates adiuvare publicarum opum egestione contingeret.
Now what follows? That the senate had indeed wished to vote that fifteen million sesterces be given from the treasury, and that, the more removed his spirit was from desires of that kind, the more earnestly it begged the public parent to compel him to yield to the senate.
Iam quae sequuntur? Voluisse quidem senatum censere dandum ex aerario sestertium centies quinquagies et quanto ab eius modi cupiditatibus remotior eius animus esset, tanto impensius petere a publico parente, ut eum compelleret ad cedendum senatui.
This alone was wanting — that with Pallas the matter should be transacted by public authority; that Pallas should be begged to yield to the senate; that for that most arrogant abstinence Caesar himself should be summoned as patron, as advocate, lest he scorn the fifteen million. He scorned it — the one thing he could do, with such wealth publicly offered, more arrogant than to have taken it.
Id vero deerat, ut cum Pallante auctoritate publica ageretur, Pallas rogaretur ut senatui cederet, ut illi superbissimae abstinentiae Caesar ipse patronus, ipse advocaretur, ne sestertium centies quinquagies sperneret. Sprevit, quod solum potuit tantis opibus publice oblatis arrogantius facere, quam si accepisset.
Yet the senate carried this too, like one complaining, with praises, in these very words: but since the best of princes and public parent, asked by Pallas, had wished that part of the resolution which pertained to giving him fifteen million from the treasury to be remitted, the senate attests both that it had gladly and deservedly begun to decree this sum to Pallas among his other honors, for his loyalty and diligence, and that nevertheless, to the will of its prince, whom in no matter it thought it right to oppose, in this matter too it submits.
Senatus tamen id quoque similis querenti laudibus tulit, his quidem verbis: sed cum princeps optimus parensque publicus rogatus a Pallante eam partem sententiae, quae pertinebat ad dandum ei ex aerario sestertium centies quinquagies, remitti voluisset, testari senatum, et se libenter ac merito hanc summam inter reliquos honores ob fidem diligentiamque Pallanti decernere coepisse, voluntati tamen principis sui, cui in nulla re fas putaret repugnare, in hac quoque re obsequi.
Imagine Pallas, as it were, interposing a veto on the senate’s decree and moderating his own honors, and refusing the fifteen million as too much, while accepting the praetorian insignia as the lesser thing;
Imaginare Pallantem velut intercedentem senatus consulto moderantemque honores suos et sestertium centies quinquagies ut nimium recusantem, cum praetoria ornamenta tamquam minus recepisset;
imagine Caesar obeying the prayers — or rather the command — of his freedman before the senate (for the freedman commands the patron whom he begs in the senate); imagine the senate everywhere attesting that it had deservedly and gladly begun to decree this sum to Pallas among his other honors, and would have persevered, had it not yielded to the prince’s will, which in no matter it was right to oppose. So that Pallas should not carry off the fifteen million from the treasury, there was need of his own modesty and of the senate’s compliance — a senate that in this above all would not have complied, had it thought it right in any matter not to comply.
imaginare Caesarem liberti precibus vel potius imperio coram senatu obtemperantem - imperat enim libertus patrono, quem in senatu rogat -; imaginare senatum usquequaque testantem merito libenterque se hanc summam inter reliquos honores Pallanti coepisse decernere et perseveraturum fuisse, nisi obsequeretur principis voluntati, cui non esset fas in ulla re repugnare. Ita ne sestertium centies quinquagies Pallas ex aerario ferret, verecundia ipsius obsequio senatus opus fuit in hoc praecipue non obsecuturi, si in ulla re putasset fas esse non obsequi.
Do you think this the end? Wait, and receive greater things: "That, since it is profitable that the prince’s bounty, most ready to praise and reward the deserving, should be made illustrious everywhere, and most of all in those places where those set over the care of his affairs might be stirred to imitation, and that the most approved loyalty and innocence of Pallas might by its example provoke a zeal for so honorable an emulation — the words which on the tenth day before the Kalends of February last the best of princes had recited in that most ample order, together with the decrees of the senate made concerning these matters, be engraved on bronze, and that this bronze be affixed to the cuirassed statue of the deified Julius."
Finem existimas? Mane dum et maiora accipe: ’Utique, cum sit utile principis benignitatem promptissimam ad laudem praemiaque merentium illustrari ubique et maxime iis locis, quibus incitari ad imitationem praepositi rerum eius curae possent, et Pallantis spectatissima fides atque innocentia exemplo provocare studium tam honestae aemulationis posset, ea quae X. kal. Februarias quae proximae fuissent in amplissimo ordine optimus princeps recitasset senatusque consulta de iis rebus facta in aere inciderentur, idque aes figeretur ad statuam loricatam divi Iulii’.
It seemed too little that the senate-house should be the witness of such disgraces: the most frequented place was chosen, where they might be set forth to be read by the present and to be read by those to come. It was resolved to mark in bronze all the honors of a most fastidious chattel — both those he had refused and those that, so far as concerns those who decreed them, he held. There were cut and graven on public and everlasting monuments the praetorian insignia of Pallas, as though they were ancient treaties, as though sacred laws.
Parum visum tantorum dedecorum esse curiam testem: delectus est celeberrimus locus, in quo legenda praesentibus, legenda futuris proderentur. Placuit aere signari omnes honores fastidiosissimi mancipii, quosque repudiasset quosque quantum ad decernentes pertinet gessit. Incisa et insculpta sunt publicis aeternisque monumentis praetoria ornamenta Pallantis, sic quasi foedera antiqua, sic quasi sacrae leges.
So great was the — of the prince, so great of the senate, so great of Pallas himself — I know not what to call it — that they wished to fix before the eyes of all: Pallas his insolence, Caesar his patience, the senate its abasement. Nor were they ashamed to spread a reason over the baseness — an excellent and fair reason, indeed: that by the example of Pallas’s rewards the rest might be provoked to a zeal of emulation.
Tanta principis, tanta senatus, tanta Pallantis ipsius - quid dicam nescio, ut vellent in oculis omnium figi Pallas insolentiam suam, patientiam Caesar, humilitatem senatus. Nec puduit rationem turpitudini obtendere, egregiam quidem pulchramque rationem, ut exemplo Pallantis praemiorum ad studium aemulationis ceteri provocarentur.
Such was the cheapness of honors — even of those that Pallas did not disdain. And yet there were found men born in an honorable station who sought and coveted what they saw given to a freedman, promised to slaves.
Ea honorum vilitas erat, illorum etiam quos Pallas non dedignabatur. Inveniebantur tamen honesto loco nati, qui peterent cuperentque quod dari liberto promitti servis videbant.
How it gladdens me that I did not fall upon those times, of which I am as ashamed as though I had lived in them! I do not doubt you are similarly affected. I know how lively and freeborn your spirit is: therefore it is the easier that you should believe I have grieved too little rather than too much — though in some places I have perhaps carried my indignation beyond a letter’s measure. Farewell.
Quam iuvat quod in tempora illa non incidi, quorum sic me tamquam illis vixerim pudet! Non dubito similiter affici te. Scio quam sit tibi vivus et ingenuus animus: ideo facilius est ut me; quamquam indignationem quibusdam in locis fortasse ultra epistulae modum extulerim, parum doluisse quam nimis credas. Vale.
Neither as a master to a master, nor as a pupil to a pupil — for so you write — but as a master to a pupil — for you are the master, I the reverse; and indeed you call me back to school, while I still prolong the Saturnalia — you have sent me a book.
Neque ut magistro magister neque ut discipulo discipulus - sic enim scribis -, sed ut discipulo magister - nam tu magister, ego contra; atque adeo tu in scholam revocas, ego adhuc Saturnalia extendo - librum misisti.
Could I have made a longer hyperbaton, and by this very thing proved that I am one who ought to be called not only not your master but not even your pupil? Yet I will take up the master’s part, and exert over your book the right you have given, the more freely because I shall meanwhile send you nothing of my own on which you may take your revenge. Farewell.
Num potui longius hyperbaton facere, atque hoc ipso probare eum esse me qui non modo magister tuus, sed ne discipulus quidem debeam dici? Sumam tamen personam magistri, exseramque in librum tuum ius quod dedisti, eo liberius quod nihil ex me interim missurus sum tibi in quo te ulciscaris. Vale.
Have you ever seen the spring of Clitumnus? If not yet — and I think not yet, for otherwise you would have told me — go and see it; which I — I repent of my lateness — saw but recently.
Vidistine aliquando Clitumnum fontem? Si nondum - et puto nondum: alioqui narrasses mihi -, vide; quem ego - paenitet tarditatis - proxime vidi.
A modest hill rises, wooded and shaded with ancient cypress. Beneath it issues a spring, forced out through several veins, but unequal ones, and, having struggled free, it opens out in a broad basin into the pool it makes — clear and glassy, so that you might count the coins thrown in and the pebbles shining back.
Modicus collis assurgit, antiqua cupressu nemorosus et opacus. Hunc subter exit fons et exprimitur pluribus venis sed imparibus, eluctatusque quem facit gurgitem lato gremio patescit, purus et vitreus, ut numerare iactas stipes et relucentes calculos possis.
From there it is driven on, not by any slope of the ground, but by its own abundance and, as it were, its weight — still a spring and already a most ample river, and one that even bears boats; which, when they meet and strive against it, making for opposite quarters, it carries across and bears through, so strong that, in the direction in which it hurries, though over level ground, it needs no help of oars, while against the current it is most laboriously overcome by oars and poles.
Inde non loci devexitate, sed ipsa sui copia et quasi pondere impellitur, fons adhuc et iam amplissimum flumen, atque etiam navium patiens; quas obvias quoque et contrario nisu in diversa tendentes transmittit et perfert, adeo validus ut illa qua properat ipse, quamquam per solum planum, remis non adiuvetur, idem aegerrime remis contisque superetur adversus.
Both are pleasant to those who drift in jest and play, to vary, as they turn their course, labor with ease and ease with labor. The banks are clothed with much ash, much poplar, which the transparent stream reckons up, as though sunk in it, by their green reflection. The coldness of the water might vie with snow, nor does its color yield.
Iucundum utrumque per iocum ludumque fluitantibus, ut flexerint cursum, laborem otio otium labore variare. Ripae fraxino multa, multa populo vestiuntur, quas perspicuus amnis velut mersas viridi imagine adnumerat. Rigor aquae certaverit nivibus, nec color cedit.
Hard by stands a temple, ancient and holy. There stands Clitumnus himself, robed and adorned in the bordered toga; the lots declare a present and even prophetic deity. Round about are scattered several shrines, and as many gods. Each has his own worship, his own name, some even their own springs. For besides that one, the parent, as it were, of the rest, there are lesser ones, distinct in their source; but they mingle with the river, which is crossed by a bridge.
Adiacet templum priscum et religiosum. Stat Clitumnus ipse amictus ornatusque praetexta; praesens numen atque etiam fatidicum indicant sortes. Sparsa sunt circa sacella complura, totidemque di. Sua cuique veneratio suum nomen, quibusdam vero etiam fontes. Nam praeter illum quasi parentem ceterorum sunt minores capite discreti; sed flumini miscentur, quod ponte transmittitur.
That is the boundary of the sacred and the profane: above it, only to sail; below, to swim as well, is allowed. The people of Hispellum, to whom the deified Augustus gave that place as a gift, provide a bath at public charge, provide lodging too. Nor are there wanting villas which, following the river’s loveliness, stand close upon its margin.
Is terminus sacri profanique: in superiore parte navigare tantum, infra etiam natare concessum. Balineum Hispellates, quibus illum locum Divus Augustus dono dedit, publice praebent, praebent et hospitium. Nec desunt villae quae secutae fluminis amoenitatem margini insistunt.
In sum, there will be nothing from which you do not take pleasure. For you will study too: you will read many things, by many hands, inscribed on every column and every wall, by which that spring and god are celebrated. Many you will praise, some you will laugh at — though you indeed, such is your humanity, will laugh at none. Farewell.
In summa nihil erit, ex quo non capias voluptatem. Nam studebis quoque: leges multa multorum omnibus columnis omnibus parietibus inscripta, quibus fons ille deusque celebratur. Plura laudabis, non nulla ridebis; quamquam tu vero, quae tua humanitas, nulla ridebis. Vale.
For a long while now I have taken neither book nor pen in hand; for a long while I have not known what leisure is, or rest, or, in short, that idle yet pleasant thing — to do nothing, to be nothing: so many are the affairs of friends that suffer me neither to withdraw nor to study.
Olim non librum in manus, non stilum sumpsi, olim nescio quid sit otium quid quies, quid denique illud iners quidem, iucundum tamen nihil agere nihil esse: adeo multa me negotia Samicorum nec secedere nec studere patiuntur.
For no studies are worth so much that the duty of friendship should be deserted — which the studies themselves teach must be kept most scrupulously. Farewell.
Nulla enim studia tanti sunt, ut amicitiae officium deseratur, quod religiosissime custodiendum studia ipsa praecipiunt. Vale.
The more you desire to see great-grandchildren from us, the sadder you will hear that your granddaughter has miscarried, while, girl that she is, she did not know herself to be with child, and through this left undone certain things to be observed by women with child, and did what should have been left undone. This error she has expiated by grave lessons, being brought into the utmost danger.
Quo magis cupis ex nobis pronepotes videre, hoc tristior audies neptem tuam abortum fecisse, dum se praegnantem esse puellariter nescit, ac per hoc quaedam custodienda praegnantibus omittit, facit omittenda. Quem errorem magnis documentis expiavit, in summum periculum adducta.
Therefore, as you must take it hard that your old age is left, as it were, bereft of an offspring already prepared, so you ought to give thanks to the gods that they so denied you great-grandchildren for the present as to preserve your granddaughter — and will give those back, of whom this very fertility, though tested with too little success, makes our hope the surer.
Igitur, ut necesse est graviter accipias senectutem tuam quasi paratis posteris destitutam, sic debes agere dis gratias, quod ita tibi in praesentia pronepotes negaverunt, ut servarent neptem, illos reddituri, quorum nobis spem certiorem haec ipsa quamquam parum prospere explorata fecunditas facit.
With the same words now with which I urge myself, I exhort, admonish, and reassure you. For you do not desire great-grandchildren more ardently than I desire children, to whom I seem about to leave, from my side and yours, an easy road to office, names heard of more widely, and ancestral images not newly made. Only let them be born, and turn this grief of ours to joy. Farewell.
Isdem nunc ego te quibus ipsum me hortor moneo confirmo. Neque enim ardentius tu pronepotes quam ego liberos cupio, quibus videor a meo tuoque latere pronum ad honores iter et audita latius nomina et non subitas imagines relicturus. Nascantur modo et hunc nostrum dolorem gaudio mutent. Vale.
When I consider your affection toward your brother’s daughter — softer even than a mother’s indulgence — I understand that I must announce to you the later thing first, so that joy, taken up beforehand, may leave no room for anxiety. And yet I fear that even after the congratulation you may relapse into fear, and so rejoice that she is freed from danger as at the same time to shudder that she was in danger.
Cum affectum tuum erga fratris filiam cogito etiam materna indulgentia molliorem, intellego prius tibi quod est posterius nuntiandum, ut praesumpta laetitia sollicitudini locum non relinquat. Quamquam vereor ne post gratulationem quoque in metum redeas, atque ita gaudeas periculo liberatam, ut simul quod periclitata sit perhorrescas.
Already cheerful, already restored to herself and to me, she begins to recover, and to measure the crisis she has passed through by her convalescence. She was, for the rest, in the utmost crisis — let it be said without offense — through no fault of her own, through some fault of her years. Hence the miscarriage and the sad proof of a womb unrecognized.
Iam hilaris, iam sibi iam mihi reddita incipit refici, transmissumque discrimen convalescendo metiri. Fuit alioqui in summo discrimine, - impune dixisse liceat - fuit nulla sua culpa, aetatis aliqua. Inde abortus et ignorati uteri triste experimentum.
So then, although it has not fallen to you to console your longing for your lost brother with a grandson or granddaughter of his, remember nevertheless that this is postponed rather than denied, since she is safe from whom it may be hoped. At the same time, excuse the mischance to your father, with whom pardon comes the more readily in the case of women. Farewell.
Proinde etsi non contigit tibi desiderium fratris amissi aut nepote eius aut nepte solari, memento tamen dilatum magis istud quam negatum, cum salva sit ex qua sperari potest. Simul excusa patri tuo casum, cui paratior apud feminas venia. Vale.
This one day I beg off: Titinius Capito is to give a reading, whom I know not whether I more ought or more desire to hear. He is the best of men, and to be numbered among the chief ornaments of the age. He cultivates letters; the studious he loves, cherishes, advances; he is the harbor, the haven, the bosom of the many who compose anything, the example of all — in short, the restorer and reformer of letters themselves, now grown old.
Hunc solum diem excuso: recitaturus est Titinius Capito, quem ego audire nescio magis debeam an cupiam. Vir est optimus et inter praecipua saeculi ornamenta numerandus. Colit studia, studiosos amat fovet provehit, multorum qui aliqua componunt portus sinus gremium, omnium exemplum, ipsarum denique litterarum iam senescentium reductor ac reformator.
He lends his house to those who recite, and attends recitation-rooms not at his own house only, with a wondrous kindness; to me at least, if only he was in the city, he never failed. And it is the more shameful not to return the favor, the more honorable the cause of returning it.
Domum suam recitantibus praebet, auditoria non apud se tantum benignitate mira frequentat; mihi certe, si modo in urbe, defuit numquam. Porro tanto turpius gratiam non referre, quanto honestior causa referendae.
If I were worn with lawsuits, should I believe myself bound to one who attended my court appearances; and now, because all my business, all my care, is in letters, am I the less bound to one who frequents with such assiduity the very thing in which I can be bound, not to say alone, yet certainly most of all?
An si litibus tererer, obstrictum esse me crederem obeunti vadimonia mea, nunc, quia mihi omne negotium omnis in studiis cura, minus obligor tanta sedulitate celebranti, in quo obligari ego, ne dicam solo, certe maxime possum?
And even if I owed him no return, no mutual offices, as it were, I should still be drawn either by the man’s most beautiful genius — supremely sweet even in its utmost severity — or by the honor of his subject. He writes the deaths of illustrious men, among them of some most dear to me.
Quod si illi nullam vicem nulla quasi mutua officia deberem, sollicitarer tamen vel ingenio hominis pulcherrimo et maxime et in summa severitate dulcissimo, vel honestate materiae. Scribit exitus illustrium virorum, in his quorundam mihi carissimorum.
I seem, therefore, to discharge a pious office, and to be present at the funeral eulogies — late indeed, but so much the truer — of those whose obsequies it was not permitted me to attend. Farewell.
Videor ergo fungi pio munere, quorumque exsequias celebrare non licuit, horum quasi funebribus laudationibus seris quidem sed tanto magis veris interesse. Vale.
I approve that you have read my little books with your father. It bears on your progress to learn from a most eloquent man what is to be praised and what to be blamed, and at the same time to be so trained that you grow used to speaking the truth.
Probo quod libellos meos cum patre legisti. Pertinet ad profectum tuum a disertissimo viro discere, quid laudandum quid reprehendendum, simul ita institui, ut verum dicere assuescas.
You see whom to follow, whose footsteps you ought to fill. O happy you, to whom there has fallen one and the same model, both the best and the most closely joined — who, in short, have as the chief object of imitation him whom nature willed you to resemble most! Farewell.
Vides quem sequi, cuius debeas implere vestigia. O te beatum, cui contigit unum atque idem optimum et coniunctissimum exemplar, qui denique eum potissimum imitandum habes, cui natura esse te simillimum voluit! Vale.
Since you are most skilled in both private law and public — of which the senatorial is a part — I desire to hear from you above all whether I erred in the senate lately or not: not as to the past, for that is too late, but that I may be instructed for the future, if anything similar should arise.
Cum sis peritissimus et privati iuris et publici, cuius pars senatorium est, cupio ex te potissimum audire, erraverim in senatu proxime necne, non ut in praeteritum - serum enim -, verum ut in futurum si quid simile inciderit erudiar.
You will say: "Why do you ask what you ought to have known?" The servitude of earlier times brought on, as of the other best arts, so also of the senatorial law, a certain forgetfulness and ignorance.
Dices: ’Cur quaeris quod nosse debebas?’ Priorum temporum servitus ut aliarum optimarum artium, sic etiam iuris senatorii oblivionem quandam et ignorantiam induxit.
For how few are so patient as to be willing to learn what they will have no use for? Add that it is hard to hold what you have received unless you practice it. And so liberty, brought back, has caught us raw and unpracticed; fired by its sweetness, we are compelled to do certain things before we know them.
Quotus enim quisque tam patiens, ut velit discere, quod in usu non sit habiturus? Adde quod difficile est tenere quae acceperis nisi exerceas. Itaque reducta libertas rudes nos et imperitos deprehendit; cuius dulcedine accensi, cogimur quaedam facere ante quam nosse.
It was, however, in old times the custom that we should learn from our elders not by the ears only but by the eyes as well what we should soon have to do ourselves and, by a kind of succession, to hand on to our juniors.
Erat autem antiquitus institutum, ut a maioribus natu non auribus modo verum etiam oculis disceremus, quae facienda mox ipsi ac per vices quasdam tradenda minoribus haberemus.
Hence young men were straightway steeped in the service of the camp, that they might grow used to command by obeying, to lead while they followed; hence those about to seek office stood at the doors of the senate-house, and were spectators of the public counsel before they were partners in it.
Inde adulescentuli statim castrensibus stipendiis imbuebantur ut imperare parendo, duces agere dum sequuntur adsuescerent; inde honores petituri adsistebant curiae foribus, et consilii publici spectatores ante quam consortes erant.
Each had his own father for a master, or, if he had no father, the greatest and most aged man stood in a father’s place. What power belongs to those who bring a motion, what right to those who vote, what force to the magistrates, what liberty to the rest; where one must yield, where resist; what is the time for silence, what the measure of speaking; how to distinguish conflicting opinions, how to carry on those who add something to the proposals before — in short, the whole senatorial usage they were taught by examples, the surest mode of learning.
Suus cuique parcns pro magistro, aut cui parens non erat maximus quisque et vetustissimus pro parente. Quae potestas referentibus, quod censentibus ius, quae vis magistratibus, quae ceteris libertas, ubi cedendum ubi resistendum, quod silentii tempus, quis dicendi modus, quae distinctio pugnantium sententiarum, quae exsecutio prioribus aliquid addentium, omnem denique senatorium morem - quod fidissimum percipiendi genus - exemplis docebantur.
But we, as young men, were indeed in the camps — yet when virtue was suspect, sloth in favor, when the commanders had no authority, the soldiers no respect, nowhere command, nowhere obedience, all things loosed, disordered, and even turned to their opposite — things, in the end, rather to be forgotten than held.
At nos iuvenes fuimus quidem in castris; sed cum suspecta virtus, inertia in pretio, cum ducibus auctoritas nulla, nulla militibus verecundia, nusquam imperium nusquam obsequium, omnia soluta turbata atquc etiam in contrarium versa, postremo obliviscenda magis quam tenenda.
We likewise looked into the senate-house — but a senate-house frightened and tongueless, when to say what you wished was dangerous, to say what you did not wish was wretched. What could then be learned, what profit was there in having learned, when the senate was summoned either to the utmost idleness or to the utmost wickedness, and, kept now for mockery, now for grief, never voted serious things, often grievous ones?
Iidem prospeximus curiam, sed curiam trepidam et elinguem, cum dicere quod velles periculosum, quod nolles miserum esset. Quid tunc disci potuit, quid didicisse iuvit, cum senatus aut ad otium summum aut ad summum nefas vocaretur, et modo ludibrio modo dolori retentus numquam seria, tristia saepe censeret?
The same evils, now as senators, now as sharers in the evils, we saw and endured for many years; by which our minds, for the time to come as well, were blunted, broken, bruised.
Eadem mala iam senatores, iam participes malorum multos per annos vidimus tulimusque; quibus ingenia nostra in posterum quoque hebetata fracta contusa sunt.
Short is the time — for every time is the shorter the happier it is — in which it is permitted to know what we are, permitted to practice what we know. With the better right, then, I ask first that you grant pardon to my error, if there is any error, and then that you heal it with your learning — yours, who have always made it your care to handle public law as well as private, ancient as well as recent, rare as well as everyday.
Breve tempus - nam tanto brevius omne quanto felicius tempus - quo libet scire quid simus, libet exercere quod scimus. Quo iustius peto primum ut errori, si quis est error, tribuas veniam, deinde medearis scientia tua cui semper fuit curae, sic iura publica ut privata sic antiqua ut recentia sic rara ut adsidua tractare.
And I think that even to those whom the frequent handling of very many matters allowed to be ignorant of nothing, the kind of question I bring to you was either not well-worn or even untried. By this I am the more excusable, if I have chanced to slip, and you the more worthy of praise, if you can teach even that of which it is in doubt whether you have learned it.
Atque ego arbitror illis etiam, quibus plurimarum rerum agitatio frequens nihil esse ignotum patiebatur, genus quaestionis quod adfero ad te aut non satis tritum aut etiam inexpertum fuisse. Hoc et ego excusatior si forte sum lapsus, et tu dignior laude, si potes id quoque docere quod in obscuro est an didiceris.
A motion was brought concerning the freedmen of Afranius Dexter the consul, slain — it was uncertain — by his own hand or by his servants’, by crime or by compliance. These, one man held — who? I; but it makes no difference — were, after the inquiry, to be freed from punishment; another, to be relegated to an island; another, to be punished with death. Of these opinions the diversity was so great that they could only be taken singly.
Referebatur de libertis Afrani Dextri consulis incertum sua an suorum manu, scelere an obsequio perempti. Hos alius - Quis? Ego; sed nihil refert - post quaestionem supplicio liberandos, alius in insulam relegandos, alius morte puniendos arbitrabatur. Quarum sententiarum tanta diversitas erat, ut non possent esse nisi singulae.
For what has killing in common with relegating? By Hercules, no more than relegating with acquitting — though the opinion that acquits is somewhat nearer to that which relegates than to that which kills, for each of those two leaves life, while this takes it away — whereas meanwhile both those who punished with death and those who relegated sat together, and by a temporary pretense of concord put off their discord.
Quid enim commune habet occidere et relegare? Non hercule magis quam relegare et absolvere; quamquam propior aliquanto est sententiae relegantis, quae absolvit, quam quae occidit - utraque enim ex illis vitam relinquit, haec adimit -, cum interim et qui morte puniebant et qui relegabant, una sedebant et temporaria simulatione concordiae discordiam differebant.
I demanded that each of the three opinions should keep its own count, and that two should not join in a brief truce. I required, then, that those who thought the men should suffer the capital penalty should part from the one relegating, and should not meanwhile band together against the acquitters, being soon to disagree — since it mattered little that the same thing displeased those to whom the same thing had not been pleasing.
Ego postulabam, ut tribus sententiis constaret suus numerus, nec se brevibus indutiis duae iungerent. Exigebam ergo ut qui capitali supplicio afficiendos putabant, discederent a relegante, nec interim contra absolventes mox dissensuri congregarentur, quia parvolum referret an idem displiceret, quibus non idem placuisset.
This too seemed to me most strange: that he indeed who had voted that the freedmen be relegated, the slaves punished, was compelled to divide his opinion; but that this man who would punish the freedmen with death should be counted with the one relegating. For if the opinion of one had to be divided, because it embraced two things, I could not find how the opinion of two men voting things so different could be joined.
Illud etiam mihi permirum videbatur, eum quidem qui libertos relegandos, servos supplicio afficiendos censuisset, coactum esse dividere sententiam; hunc autem qui libertos morte multaret, cum relegante numerari. Nam si oportuisset dividi sententiam unius, quia res duas comprehendebat, non reperiebam quemadmodum posset iungi sententia duorum tam diversa censentium.
And indeed permit me, before you as though there, and the matter done as though still untouched, to render the reasoning of my judgment, and to join together at leisure now what I then said piecemeal, with many clamoring against me.
Atque adeo permitte mihi sic apud te tamquam ibi, sic peracta re tamquam adhuc integra rationem iudicii mei reddere, quaeque tunc carptim multis obstrepentibus dixi, nunc per otium iungere.
Let us suppose that three judges in all had been assigned to this case; that to one of them it seemed good that the freedmen should die, to a second that they be relegated, to a third that they be acquitted. Shall the two opinions, with forces combined, destroy the last; or shall each separately be worth just as much as the other, and shall the first be no more able to be linked with the second than the second with the third?
Fingamus tres omnino iudices in hanc causam datos esse; horum uni placuisse perire libertos, alteri relegari, tertio absolvi. Utrumne sententiae duae collatis viribus novissimam periment, an separatim una quaeque tantundem quantum altera valebit, nec magis poterit cum secunda prima conecti quam secunda cum tertia?
Therefore in the senate too those must be counted as contrary which are spoken as diverse. But if one and the same man should vote that they be both destroyed and relegated, could they, by the opinion of one man, be both put to death and relegated? Could it, in short, be thought one opinion at all, which joined things so diverse?
Igitur in senatu quoque numerari tamquam contrariae debent, quae tamquam diversae dicuntur. Quodsi unus atque idem et perdendos censeret et relegandos, num ex sententia unius et perire possent et relegari? Num denique omnino una sententia putaretur, quae tam diversa coniungeret?
How then, when one votes for punishment, another for relegation, can that seem one opinion which is spoken by two, which would not seem one if it were spoken by one? What of this? Does not the law plainly teach that the opinions of the one killing and the one relegating ought to be separated, when it orders the division to be made thus: "You who vote these things, go to this side; you who vote all else, go to that side, to which you incline"? Examine and weigh each word: "you who vote these things," that is, you who think them to be relegated; "to this side," that is, to that on which sits the man who voted for relegation.
Quemadmodum igitur, cum alter puniendos, alter censeat relegandos, videri potest una sententia quae dicitur a duobus, quae non videretur una, si ab uno diceretur? Quid? lex non aperte docet dirimi debere sententias occidentis et relegantis, cum ita discessionem fieri iubet: ’Qui haec censetis, in hanc partem, qui alia omnia, in illam partem ite qua sentitis’? Examina singula verba et expende: ’qui haec censetis’, hoc est qui relegandos putatis, ’in hanc partem’, id est in eam in qua sedet qui censuit relegandos.
From which it is manifest that those who judge the men should be killed cannot remain on the same side. "You who vote all else": you notice how the law, not content to say "else," added "all." Is there, then, any doubt that those who kill vote all else than those who relegate? "Go to that side, to which you incline": does not the law itself seem to call, compel, drive those who dissent to the contrary side? Does not the consul too show, by solemn words and by hand and gesture besides, where each man should remain, whither he should cross over?
Ex quo manifestum est non posse in eadem parte remanere eos, qui interficiendos arbitrantur. ’Qui alia omnia’: animadvertis, ut non contenta lex dicere ’alia’ addiderit ’omnia’. Num ergo dubium est alia omnia sentire eos qui occidunt quam qui relegant? ’In illam partem ite qua sentitis’: nonne videtur ipsa lex eos qui dissentiunt in contrariam partem vocare cogere impellere? Non consul etiam, ubi quisque remanere, quo transgredi debeat, non tantum sollemnibus verbis, sed manu gestuque demonstrat?
But, you say, it will come about that, if the opinions of the one killing and the one relegating are divided, the one that acquits will prevail. What is that to those who vote? Whom it surely does not become to fight by every art, every device, lest the milder course be taken. Yet those who punish and those who relegate must be compared first with the acquitters, then with each other. Just as, in certain games, the lot sets one aside and keeps him back to contend with the victor, so in the senate there are first contests, there are second, and the third awaits that one of the two opinions which has come out the higher.
At enim futurum est ut si dividantur sententiae interficientis et relegantis, praevaleat illa quae absolvit. Quid istud ad censentes? quos certe non decet omnibus artibus, omni ratione pugnare, ne fiat quod est mitius. Oportet tamen eos qui puniunt et qui relegant, absolventibus primum, mox inter se comparari. Scilicet ut in spectaculis quibusdam sors aliquem seponit ac servat, qui cum victore contendat, sic in senatu sunt aliqua prima, sunt secunda certamina, et ex duabus sententiis eam, quae superior exstiterit, tertia exspectat.
What of this — that when the first opinion is approved, the rest are destroyed? By what reasoning, then, can there be other than one and the same place for opinions, of which afterward there is none?
Quid, quod prima sententia comprobata ceterae perimuntur? Qua ergo ratione potest esse non unus atque idem locus sententiarum, quarum nullus est postea?
Let me take it up more plainly. Unless, when he who relegates is giving his opinion, those who punish with death at once at the outset go off into the other part, they will dissent in vain afterward from him with whom a little before they agreed.
Planius repetam. Nisi dicente sententiam eo qui relegat, illi qui puniunt capite initio statim in alia discedant, frustra postea dissentient ab eo cui paulo ante consenserint.
But why am I like one teaching, when I wish to learn whether the opinions ought to have been divided, or to be gone into singly? I obtained, indeed, what I demanded; yet none the less I ask whether I ought to have demanded it. How did I obtain it? He who voted that the last penalty should be exacted, overcome — I know not whether by the right, but certainly by the equity, of my demand — abandoned his own opinion and went over to the one relegating, fearing, no doubt, lest, if the opinions were divided (as otherwise seemed likely to happen), the opinion that the men should be acquitted should prevail in number. For there were far more in this one opinion than in the two taken singly.
Sed quid ego similis docenti? cum discere velim, an sententias dividi an iri in singulas oportuerit. Obtinui quidem quod postulabam; nihilo minus tamen quaero, an postulare debuerim. Quemadmodum obtinui? Qui ultimum supplicium sumendum esse censebat, nescio an iure, certe aequitate postulationis meae victus, omissa sententia sua accessit releganti, veritus scilicet ne, si dividerentur sententiae, quod alioqui fore videbatur, ea quae absolvendos esse censebat numero praevaleret. Etenim longe plures in hac una quam in duabus singulis erant.
Then those too who were drawn by his authority, left in the lurch as he crossed over, abandoned the opinion deserted by its own author, and followed as a deserter the man whom they had been following as a leader.
Tum illi quoque qui auctoritate eius trahebantur, transeunte illo destituti reliquerunt sententiam ab ipso auctore desertam, secutique sunt quasi transfugam quem ducem sequebantur.
So out of three opinions two were made, and of the two one prevailed, the third being driven out — which, since it could not overcome both, chose by which of the two it would be beaten. Farewell.
Sic ex tribus sententiis duae factae, tenuitque ex duabus altera tertia expulsa, quae, cum ambas superare non posset, elegit ab utra vinceretur. Vale.
I have burdened you with so many volumes sent all at once; but I have burdened you, first because you had demanded it, and then because you had written that the vintage there was so meager that I knew well you would have leisure, as the common saying goes, to read a book.
Oneravi te tot pariter missis voluminibus, sed oneravi primum quia exegeras, deinde quia scripseras tam graciles istic vindemias esse, ut plane scirem tibi vacaturum, quod vulgo dicitur, librum legere.
The same is reported from my own little fields. So it will be permitted me too to write what you may read — if only there be the means to buy paper; or else, of necessity, whatever we write, good or bad, we shall blot out. Farewell.
Eadem ex meis agellis nuntiantur. Igitur mihi quoque licebit scribere quae legas, sit modo unde chartae emi possint; aut necessario quidquid scripserimus boni malive delebimus. Vale.
The sicknesses of my household have worn me out — their deaths too, and those of young men. Two consolations, by no means equal to so great a grief, yet consolations: one, my readiness in manumitting — for I seem not to have lost altogether untimely those whom I lost already free; the other, that I allow my slaves too to make wills, as it were, and keep them as though they were lawful.
Confecerunt me infirmitates meorum, mortes etiam, et quidem iuvenum. Solacia duo nequaquam paria tanto dolori, solacia tamen: unum facilitas manumittendi - videor enim non omnino immaturos perdidisse, quos iam liberos perdidi -, alterum quod permitto servis quoque quasi testamenta facere, eaque ut legitima custodio.
They charge and request what they please; I obey as one commanded. They divide, give, bequeath — only within the household; for to slaves the house is a kind of commonwealth and, as it were, a city.
Mandant rogantque quod visum; pareo ut iussus. Dividunt donant relinquunt, dumtaxat intra domum; nam servis res publica quaedam et quasi civitas domus est.
But although I rest in these consolations, I am weakened and broken by that same humanity which led me to permit this very thing. Yet not on that account would I wish to become harder. Nor am I unaware that others call mischances of this kind nothing more than a loss, and on that account seem to themselves great men and wise. Whether they are great and wise, I do not know; men they are not.
Sed quamquam his solaciis acquiescam, debilitor et frangor eadem illa humanitate, quae me ut hoc ipsum permitterem induxit. Non ideo tamen velim durior fieri. Nec ignoro alios eius modi casus nihil amplius vocare quam damnum, eoque sibi magnos homines et sapientes videri. Qui an magni sapientesque sint, nescio; homines non sunt.
For it belongs to a man to be touched by grief, to feel it, yet to resist and to admit consolations — not to have no need of consolations.
Hominis est enim affici dolore sentire, resistere tamen et solacia admittere, non solaciis non egere.
But of these things I have said more, perhaps, than I ought — yet fewer than I wished. For there is a certain pleasure even in grieving, especially if you weep it out in the bosom of a friend, with whom there is ready for your tears either praise or pardon. Farewell.
Verum de his plura fortasse quam debui; sed pauciora quam volui. Est enim quaedam etiam dolendi voluptas, praesertim si in amici sinu defleas, apud quem lacrimis tuis vel laus sit parata vel venia. Vale.
Is the sky there too harsh and troubled? Here are unceasing storms and frequent floods. The Tiber has overflowed its bed and pours deep over its lower banks;
Num istic quoque immite et turbidum caelum? Hic assiduae tempestates et crebra diluvia. Tiberis alveum excessit et demissioribus ripis alte superfunditur;
though drawn off by the channel which a most provident emperor made, it presses upon the valleys, swims over the plains, and wherever the ground is level, is seen in place of the ground. Hence the streams it is wont to receive and carry down mingled with its own, it drives back, as if to meet them, and so covers with alien waters fields that it does not itself touch.
quamquam fossa quam providentissimus imperator fecit exhaustus, premit valles, innatat campis, quaque planum solum, pro solo cernitur. Inde quae solet flumina accipere et permixta devehere, velut obvius retro cogit, atque ita alienis aquis operit agros, quos ipse non tangit.
The Anio, daintiest of rivers, and therefore as if invited and detained by the villas that line it, has in great part broken and swept away the groves by which it is overshadowed; it has undermined the hills, and, dammed in many places by the mass of what fell, while it sought its lost course, it has thrust down roofs and flung and lifted itself above the ruins.
Anio, delicatissimus amnium ideoque adiacentibus villis velut invitatus retentusque, magna ex parte nemora quibus inumbratur fregit et rapuit; subruit montes, et decidentium mole pluribus locis clausus, dum amissum iter quaerit, impulit tecta ac se super ruinas eiecit atque extulit.
Those whom that storm caught on higher ground saw, in one place the appointments of the rich and their heavy furniture, in another the implements of the farm; here oxen, plows, drivers; there cattle loosed and at large; and among these the trunks of trees, or the beams and roof-ridges of villas, floating variously and far and wide.
Viderunt quos excelsioribus terris illa tempestas deprehendit, alibi divitum apparatus et gravem supellectilem, alibi instrumenta ruris, ibi boves aratra rectores, hic soluta et libera armenta, atque inter haec arborum truncos aut villarum trabes atque culmina varie lateque fluitantia.
Nor were even those places free from harm to which the river did not climb. For in place of the river there was unceasing rain, and whirlwinds hurled down from the clouds; the works that fence the precious fields were thrown down, the monuments shaken and even struck to the ground. Many were maimed, buried, crushed by mischances of this kind, and the losses were increased by mournings.
Ac ne illa quidem malo vacaverunt, ad quae non ascendit amnis. Nam pro amne imber assiduus et deiecti nubibus turbines, proruta opera quibus pretiosa rura cinguntur, quassata atque etiam decussa monumenta. Multi eius modi casibus debilitati obruti obtriti, et aucta luctibus damna.
Lest anything like it be there, I fear in proportion to the danger, and I ask you, if there is nothing of the kind, to relieve my anxiety as soon as possible; but if there is, to announce that too. For it makes little difference whether you suffer adversity or await it — save that there is a measure to grieving, none to fearing. For you would grieve as much as you knew had happened; you fear as much as can happen. Farewell.
Ne quid simile istic, pro mensura periculi vereor, teque rogo, si nihil tale, quam maturissime sollicitudini meae consulas, sed et si tale, id quoque nunties. Nam parvolum differt, patiaris adversa an exspectes; nisi quod tamen est dolendi modus, non est timendi. Doleas enim quantum scias accidisse, timeas quantum possit accidere. Vale.
False, surely, is what is commonly believed, that men’s wills are the mirror of their characters, since Domitius Tullus appeared far better in death than in life.
Falsum est nimirum quod creditur vulgo, testamenta hominum speculum esse morum, cum Domitius Tullus longe melior apparuerit morte quam vita.
For though he had offered himself up to be courted, he left his daughter heir, who was common to him and his brother, because he had adopted her, born to his brother. He attended his grandchildren with very many most welcome legacies, attended his great-granddaughter too. In sum, all is most full of family devotion, and the more unexpected for that.
Nam cum se captandum praebuisset, reliquit filiam heredem, quae illi cum fratre communis, quia genitam fratre adoptaverat. Prosecutus est nepotes plurimis iucundissimisque legatis, prosecutus etiam proneptem. In summa omnia pietate plenissima ac tanto magis inexspectata sunt.
And so talk of all kinds throughout the city: some call him false, ungrateful, forgetful, and, while they attack him, betray their own selves by most shameful confessions, complaining of a father, a grandfather, a great-grandfather as though of a childless man; others, on the contrary, extol this very thing with praises, that he frustrated the dishonest hopes of men whom so to deceive is in keeping with the morals of the age. They add, too, that it was not free to him to die by another will: for he did not leave his wealth to his daughter, but gave it back, having been enriched through his daughter.
Ergo varii tota civitate sermones: alii fictum ingratum immemorem loquuntur, seque ipsos dum insectantur illum turpissimis confessionibus produnt, ut qui de patre avo proavo quasi de orbo querantur; alii contra hoc ipsum laudibus ferunt, quod sit frustratus improbas spes hominum, quos sic decipi pro moribus temporum est. Addunt etiam non fuisse ei liberum alio testamento mori: neque enim reliquisse opes filiae sed reddidisse, quibus auctus per filiam fuerat.
For Curtilius Mancia, detesting his son-in-law Domitius Lucanus — Tullus’s brother — had made his daughter’s daughter, his own granddaughter, heir on this condition: that she be released from her father’s hand. The father had released her, the uncle had adopted her; and so, the will being circumvented, the partner brother had recalled into his brother’s power the emancipated daughter by the fraud of adoption — and that with the amplest wealth.
Nam Curtilius Mancia perosus generum suum Domitium Lucanum - frater is Tulli - sub ea condicione filiam eius neptem suam instituerat heredem, si esset manu patris emissa. Emiserat pater, adoptaverat patruus, atque ita circumscripto testamento consors frater in fratris potestatem emancipatam filiam adoptionis fraude revocaverat et quidem cum opibus amplissimis.
It was, besides, as if given by fate to those brothers that they should become rich, and that against the strongest will of those by whom they were made so. Indeed, Domitius Afer, who took them into his name, left a will pronounced eighteen years before, and afterward so disapproved by himself that he had their father’s goods put up for proscription.
Fuit alioqui fratribus illis quasi fato datum ut divites fierent, invitissimis a quibus facti sunt. Quin etiam Domitius Afer, qui illos in nomen assumpsit, reliquit testamentum ante decem et octo annos nuncupatum, adeoque postea improbatum sibi, ut patris eorum bona proscribenda curaverit.
Wondrous his harshness, wondrous their good fortune: his harshness, who struck from the number of citizens the man whom he had as a partner even in his children; their good fortune, to whom there succeeded, in a father’s place, the man who had taken their father away.
Mira illius asperitas, mira felicitas horum: illius asperitas, qui numero civium excidit, quem socium etiam in liberis habuit; felicitas horum, quibus successit in locum patris, qui patrem abstulerat.
But this inheritance of Afer too, like the rest gained together with his brother, was to be passed on to his brother’s daughter, by whom Tullus had been made sole heir and preferred to her own daughter, that he might be won over. The more praiseworthy, therefore, is the will that devotion, faith, and honor wrote, in which, in short, to all connections, according to each one’s service, thanks were returned — returned to his wife too.
Sed haec quoque hereditas Afri, ut reliqua cum fratre quaesita, transmittenda erant filiae fratris, a quo Tullus ex asse heres institutus praelatusque filiae fuerat, ut conciliaretur. Quo laudabilius testamentum est, quod pietas fides pudor scripsit, in quo denique omnibus affinitatibus pro cuiusque officio gratia relata est, relata et uxori.
She received the loveliest villas, received a great sum of money — a wife most excellent and most patient, and the better deserving of her husband the more she was blamed for marrying him. For a woman illustrious in birth, upright in character, advanced in years, long a widow and once a mother, seemed to have followed with too little decorum a marriage to a rich old man so ruined by disease that he might have been a weariness even to a wife whom he had married young and sound.
Accepit amoenissimas villas, accepit magnam pecuniam uxor optima et patientissima ac tanto melius de viro merita, quanto magis est reprehensa quod nupsit. Nam mulier natalibus clara, moribus proba, aetate declivis, diu vidua mater olim, parum decore secuta matrimonium videbatur divitis senis ita perditi morbo, ut esse taedio posset uxori, quam iuvenis sanusque duxisset.
For, wrenched and broken in all his limbs, he surveyed his great wealth with his eyes alone, and was not even moved in his little bed except by others; nay, more — foul and pitiable to tell — he offered his teeth to be washed and rubbed. It was often heard from himself, when he complained of the indignities of his infirmity, that he daily licked the fingers of his own slaves.
Quippe omnibus membris extortus et fractus, tantas opes solis oculis obibat, ac ne in lectulo quidem nisi ab aliis movebatur; quin etiam - foedum miserandumque dictu - dentes lavandos fricandosque praebebat. Auditum frequenter ex ipso, cum quereretur de contumeliis debilitatis suae, digitos se servorum suorum cotidie lingere.
Yet he lived, and wished to live, sustained above all by his wife, who had turned the fault of a marriage entered upon into the glory of perseverance.
Vivebat tamen et vivere volebat, sustentante maxime uxore, quae culpam incohati matrimonii in gloriam perseverantia verterat.
You have all the talk of the town; for all the talk is Tullus. The auction is awaited: for he was so wealthy that he furnished the most ample gardens, on the very day he had bought them, with very many most ancient statues; so great a store of the most beautiful works had he in his storehouses, which he neglected. In turn, you, if there is anything there worth a letter, do not grudge it.
Habes omnes fabulas urbis; nam sunt omnes fabulae Tullus. Exspectatur auctio: fuit enim tam copiosus, ut amplissimos hortos eodem quo emerat die instruxerit plurimis et antiquissimis statuis; tantum illi pulcherrimorum operum in horreis quae neglegebat. Invicem tu, si quid istic epistula dignum, ne gravare.
For while men’s ears delight in novelty, we are also instructed by examples in the conduct of life. Farewell.
Nam cum aures hominum novitate laetantur, tum ad rationem vitae exemplis erudimur. Vale.
Both my joy and my solace are in letters, and there is nothing so glad that it is not gladder for these, nothing so sad that it is not less sad through these. And so, troubled both by my wife’s sickness and by the danger of my household, and indeed by the death of some, I have fled for refuge to the one relief of grief — study, which grants that I understand adversity the more, yet bear it the more patiently.
Et gaudium mihi et solacium in litteris, nihilque tam laetum quod his laetius, tam triste quod non per has minus triste. Itaque et infirmitate uxoris et meorum periculo, quorundam vero etiam morte turbatus, ad unicum doloris levamentum studia confugi, quae praestant ut adversa magis intellegam sed patientius feram.
It is my custom to test by my friends’ judgment, before I give it into men’s hands, what I am about to publish — and above all by yours. So then, if ever, now bend your attention to the book you will receive with this letter, for I fear that I myself, in my sadness, attended to it too little. For I could command my grief to let me write; to let me write with a mind free and glad, I could not. And further, as joy comes from studies, so studies come from cheerfulness. Farewell.
Est autem mihi moris, quod sum daturus in manus hominum, ante amicorum iudicio examinare, in primis tuo. Proinde si quando, nunc intende libro quem cum hac epistula accipies, quia vereor ne ipse ut tristis parum intenderim. Imperare enim dolori ut scriberem potui; ut vacuo animo laetoque, non potui. Porro ut ex studiis gaudium sic studia hilaritate proveniunt. Vale.
The things to know which we are wont to set out on a journey, to cross the sea, we neglect when they are set before our eyes — whether because nature is so disposed that, careless of what is nearest, we pursue what is far off; or because the desire of all things slackens when the opportunity is easy; or because we put off, as though we shall see it often, what is given us to see as often as we wish to behold it.
Ad quae noscenda iter ingredi, transmittere mare solemus, ea sub oculis posita neglegimus, seu quia ita natura comparatum, ut proximorum incuriosi longinqua sectemur, seu quod omnium rerum cupido languescit, cum facilis occasio, seu quod differimus tamquam saepe visuri, quod datur videre quotiens velis cernere.
For whatever cause, very many things in our city and near it we know not by sight, nay, not even by hearsay, which, had Achaia, Egypt, Asia, or any other land fertile in marvels and their advertiser produced them, we should have heard of, read through, and surveyed.
Quacumque de causa, permulta in urbe nostra iuxtaque urbem non oculis modo sed ne auribus quidem novimus, quae si tulisset Achaia Aegyptos Asia aliave quaelibet miraculorum ferax commendatrixque terra, audita perlecta lustrata haberemus.
I myself, at any rate, lately heard and saw at once what I had neither heard nor seen before. My wife’s grandfather had required me to inspect his estates near Ameria. As I walked over these, there is shown me, lying below, a lake by the name of Vadimon; and at the same time certain incredible things are told.
Ipse certe nuper, quod nec audieram ante nec videram, audivi pariter et vidi. Exegerat prosocer meus, ut Amerina praedia sua inspicerem. Haec perambulanti mihi ostenditur subiacens lacus nomine Vadimonis; simul quaedam incredibilia narrantur.
I came to the lake itself. It is laid out in the likeness of a wheel lying flat, and equal on every side: no bay, no slant, all its measures even, and as if hollowed and cut out by a craftsman’s hand. Its color is whiter than sky-blue, greener and deeper; the smell of sulfur, and a medicinal taste; a power by which broken things are made firm. Its extent is modest, yet such that it feels the winds and swells with waves.
Perveni ad ipsum. Lacus est in similitudinem iacentis rotae circumscriptus et undique aequalis: nullus sinus, obliquitas nulla, omnia dimensa paria, et quasi artificis manu cavata et excisa. Color caerulo albidior, viridior et pressior; sulpuris odor saporque medicatus; vis qua fracta solidantur. Spatium modicum, quod tamen sentiat ventos, et fluctibus intumescat.
No boat is on it — for it is sacred — but islands float upon it, all grassy with reed and rush, and whatever else a richer marsh and that very edge of the lake puts forth. Each has its own shape, as its size; the margin of all is shaved away, because, often dashed against the shore or against one another, they wear and are worn. The height of all is equal, the lightness equal; for they go down with a shallow root, in the fashion of a keel.
Nulla in hoc navis - sacer enim -, sed innatant insulae, herbidae omnes harundine et iunco, quaeque alia fecundior palus ipsaque illa extremitas lacus effert. Sua cuique figura ut modus; cunctis margo derasus, quia frequenter vel litori vel sibi illisae terunt terunturque. Par omnibus altitudo, par levitas; quippe in speciem carinae humili radice descendunt.
This is seen from every side, the same root at once held up by the water and sunk in it. Sometimes they are joined and coupled and like a mainland; sometimes, the winds disagreeing, they are scattered apart; now and then, abandoned by calm, they float singly.
Haec ab omni latere perspicitur, eadem aqua pariter suspensa et mersa. Interdum iunctae copulataeque et continenti similes sunt, interdum discordantibus ventis digeruntur, non numquam destitutae tranquillitate singulae fluitant.
Often the smaller cling to the larger, like little skiffs to cargo-ships; often greater and lesser among themselves take up, as it were, a race and contest; again, all driven to the same place, where they have stopped they push forward the land, and now here, now there give back and take away the lake, and only then, when they hold the middle, do they not narrow it.
Saepe minores maioribus velut cumbulae onerariis adhaerescunt, saepe inter se maiores minoresque quasi cursum certamenque desumunt; rursus omnes in eundem locum appulsae, qua steterunt promovent terram, et modo hac modo illa lacum reddunt auferuntque, ac tum demum cum medium tenuere non contrahunt.
It is agreed that cattle, following the grass, are wont to advance onto those islands as onto the farthest bank, and do not perceive the moving ground until, snatched from the shore as though carried and set upon it, they take fright at the lake poured all around them; then, going out where the wind has borne them, they no more feel that they have come down than they had felt that they went up.
Constat pecora herbas secuta sic in insulas illas ut in extremam ripam procedere solere, nec prius intellegere mobile solum quam litori abrepta quasi illata et imposita circumfusum undique lacum paveant; mox quo tulerit ventus egressa, non magis se descendisse sentire, quam senserint ascendisse.
The same lake is discharged into a river, which, when it has shown itself to the eyes a little while, is plunged into a cavern and runs hidden deep, and, if it has received anything before it was drawn under, keeps it and brings it forth.
Idem lacus in flumen egeritur, quod ubi se paulisper oculis dedit specu mergitur alteque conditum meat ac, si quid antequam subduceretur accepit, servat et profert.
These things I have written to you, because I believed them no less unknown to you than to me, and no less welcome. For you too, like me, nothing delights so much as the works of nature. Farewell.
Haec tibi scripsi, quia nec minus ignota quam mihi nec minus grata credebam. Nam te quoque ut me nihil aeque ac naturae opera delectant. Vale.
As in life, so in letters, I count it fairest and most humane to mingle severity with affability, lest the one pass into gloom, the other into wantonness.
Ut in vita sic in studiis pulcherrimum et humanissimum existimo severitatem comitatemque miscere, ne illa in tristitiam, haec in petulantiam excedat.
Led by this reasoning, I vary my graver works with sports and jests. To bring these forth I chose the most fitting time and place; and that they might even now grow used to being heard both by men at leisure and at table, in the month of July, when lawsuits chiefly rest, I set chairs before the couches and seated my friends.
Qua ratione ductus graviora opera lusibus iocisque distinguo. Ad hos proferendos et tempus et locum opportunissimum elegi, utque iam nunc assuescerent et ab otiosis et in triclinio audiri, Iulio mense, quo maxime lites interquiescunt, positis ante lectos cathedris amicos collocavi.
It chanced that on the same day, in the morning, I was asked to a sudden advocacy, which gave me a theme for a preface. For I begged that no one would charge me as irreverent toward my work, in that, though about to recite — and that to friends, and to few, that is, again to friends — I had not abstained from the forum and from business. I added that I follow this order in writing too, that I set necessities before pleasures, serious things before pleasant ones, and write first for my friends, then for myself.
Forte accidit ut eodem die mane in advocationem subitam rogarer, quod mihi causam praeloquendi dedit. Sum enim deprecatus, ne quis ut irreverentem operis argueret, quod recitaturus, quamquam et amicis et paucis, id est iterum amicis, foro et negotiis non abstinuissem. Addidi hunc ordinem me et in scribendo sequi, ut necessitates voluptatibus, seria iucundis anteferrem, ac primum amicis tum mihi scriberem.
The book was varied both in its small pieces and in its meters. So we are wont, who trust our genius too little, to flee the danger of satiety. I recited over two days. This the assent of my hearers exacted; and yet, as others pass over certain things and make a merit of passing them over, so I pass nothing by, and even say that I do not pass it by. For I read all that I may correct all, which cannot happen to those who recite a selection.
Liber fuit et opusculis varius et metris. Ita solemus, qui ingenio parum fidimus, satietatis periculum fugere. Recitavi biduo. Hoc assensus audientium exegit; et tamen ut alii transeunt quaedam imputantque quod transeant, sic ego nihil praetereo atque etiam non praeterire me dico. Lego enim omnia ut omnia emendem, quod contingere non potest electa recitantibus.
The former is more modest, and perhaps more respectful; but this is more frank and more loving. For he loves who thinks himself so loved as not to dread wearying his friend; and besides, what do companions render, if they meet for the sake of their own pleasure? He is dainty, and like a stranger, who would rather hear a friend’s book good than make it so.
At illud modestius et fortasse reverentius; sed hoc simplicius et amantius. Amat enim qui se sic amari putat, ut taedium non pertimescat; et alioqui quid praestant sodales, si conveniunt voluptatis suae causa? Delicatus ac similis ignoto est, qui amici librum bonum mavult audire quam facere.
I do not doubt that, for the rest of your love of me, you desire to read as soon as may be this still-new book. You shall read it — but revised, which was the very reason for reciting; and yet you already know some things from it. These, afterward corrected, or — as sometimes happens with a longer delay — made worse, you will come to know again as though new and rewritten. For when most things are changed, those too seem changed which remain. Farewell.
Non dubito cupere te pro cetera mei caritate quam maturissime legere hunc adhuc musteum librum. Leges, sed retractatum, quae causa recitandi fuit; et tamen non nulla iam ex eo nosti. Haec emendata postea vel, quod interdum longiore mora solet, deteriora facta quasi nova rursus et rescripta cognosces. Nam plerisque mutatis ea quoque mutata videntur, quae manent. Vale.
Do you know those men who, slaves of every lust, are so angry at others’ vices as though they envied them, and most severely punish those whom they most imitate? — though nothing more becomes even those who need no man’s clemency than gentleness.
Nostine hos qui omnium libidinum servi, sic aliorum vitiis irascuntur quasi invideant, et gravissime puniunt, quos maxime imitantur? cum eos etiam, qui non indigent clementia ullius, nihil magis quam lenitas deceat.
And I count him best and most faultless who so forgives others as though he himself sinned daily, and so abstains from sins as though he forgave no one.
Atque ego optimum et emendatissimum existimo, qui ceteris ita ignoscit, tamquam ipse cotidie peccet, ita peccatis abstinet tamquam nemini ignoscat.
So then let us hold this at home, this abroad, this in every kind of life: that we be implacable to ourselves, but to be entreated even by those who know not how to grant pardon save to themselves; and let us commit to memory what that gentlest man — and for this too the greatest — Thrasea was wont often to say: "He who hates vices hates men." You ask, perhaps, moved by what I write these things.
Proinde hoc domi hoc foris hoc in omni vitae genere teneamus, ut nobis implacabiles simus, exorabiles istis etiam qui dare veniam nisi sibi nesciunt, mandemusque memoriae quod vir mitissimus et ob hoc quoque maximus Thrasea crebro dicere solebat: ’Qui vitia odit, homines odit.’ Quaeris fortasse quo commotus haec scribam.
Lately a certain man — but better face to face; though not even then. For I fear that to pursue, to carp at, to report the very thing I condemn would be at odds with what I am just now teaching. Whoever he is, of whatever sort, let him be passed over in silence — to mark whom out is of no account as an example, not to mark him out is of the greatest account for humanity. Farewell.
Nuper quidam - sed melius coram; quamquam ne tunc quidem. Vereor enim ne id quod improbo consectari carpere referre huic quod cum maxime praecipimus repugnet. Quisquis ille qualiscumque sileatur, quem insignire exempli nihil, non insignire humanitatis plurimum refert. Vale.
All my studies, all my cares, all my distractions have been taken, shaken, snatched from me by the grief that I have conceived, most grievous, from the death of Junius Avitus.
Omnia mihi studia, omnes curas, omnia avocamenta exemit excussit eripuit dolor, quem ex morte Iuni Aviti gravissimum cepi.
He had put on the broad stripe in my house, had been aided by my vote in his seeking of offices; besides this, he so loved me, so revered me, that he used me as the shaper of his character, as it were his master.
Latum clavum in domo mea induerat, suffragio meo adiutus in petendis honoribus fuerat; ad hoc ita me diligebat, ita verebatur, ut me formatore morum, me quasi magistro uteretur.
Rare is this in our young men. For how few yield, as the lesser, either to another’s age or to his authority? Straightway they are wise, straightway they know all things, they revere no one, imitate no one, and are themselves their own examples. But not Avitus, whose chief prudence was this, that he thought others more prudent; whose chief learning this, that he wished to learn.
Rarum hoc in adulescentibus nostris. Nam quotus quisque vel aetati alterius vel auctoritati ut minor cedit? Statim sapiunt, statim sciunt omnia, neminem verentur, neminem imitantur, atque ipsi sibi exempla sunt. Sed non Avitus, cuius haec praecipua prudentia, quod alios prudentiores arbitrabatur, haec praecipua eruditio quod discere volebat.
Always he consulted me about something — either of studies or of the duties of life; always he withdrew so as to be made the better; and made the better he was, either by what he had heard or by the very fact that he had asked.
Semper ille aut de studiis aliquid aut de officiis vitae consulebat, semper ita recedebat ut melior factus; et erat factus vel eo quod audierat, vel quod omnino quaesierat.
What deference he paid to Servianus, that most exacting man! whom, as tribune to his legate, he so understood and so won that, when he passed from Germany into Pannonia, he followed him not as a fellow-soldier but as a companion and attendant. With what industry, what modesty, as quaestor, he was to his consuls — and he had several — no less pleasant and welcome than useful! With what running about, what vigilance, he sought this very aedileship from which he has been snatched! Which above all galls my grief.
Quod ille obsequium Serviano exactissimo viro praestitit! quem legatum tribunus ita et intellexit et cepit, ut ex Germania in Pannoniam transeuntem non ut commilito sed ut comes assectatorque sequeretur. Qua industria qua modestia quaestor, consulibus suis - et plures habuit - non minus iucundus et gratus quam utilis fuit! Quo discursu, qua vigilantia hanc ipsam aedilitatem cui praereptus est petiit! Quod vel maxime dolorem meum exulcerat.
Before my eyes hover his empty labors, his fruitless prayers, and the office which he only deserved; there returns to my mind that broad stripe taken on among my household gods; there return those first and those last votes of mine, those conversations, those consultations.
Obversantur oculis cassi labores, et infructuosae preces, et honor quem meruit tantum; redit animo ille latus clavus in penatibus meis sumptus, redeunt illa prima illa postrema suffragia mea, illi sermones illae consultationes.
I am moved by his very youth, moved by the mischance of his kindred. He had an aged parent, had a wife whom a year before he had taken as a maiden, had a daughter whom a little before he had raised up. So many hopes, so many joys, one day turned to their opposites.
Afficior adulescentia ipsius, afficior necessitudinum casu. Erat illi grandis natu parens, erat uxor quam ante annum virginem acceperat, erat filia quam paulo ante sustulerat. Tot spes tot gaudia dies unus in diversa convertit.
Just now aedile-designate, newly a husband, newly a father, he left an office untouched, a mother bereaved, a wife widowed, a daughter an orphan ignorant of her father. There is added to my tears that, absent and ignorant of the impending evil, I learned at once that he was sick and at once that he had died, so that I could not, by fear, grow used to the most grievous grief. In such torments was I when I wrote these things, that I wrote these things alone; for I can now neither think nor speak of anything else. Farewell.
Modo designatus aedilis, recens maritus recens pater intactum honorem, orbam matrem, viduam uxorem, filiam pupillam ignaram patris reliquit: Accedit lacrimis meis quod absens et impendentis mali nescius, pariter aegrum pariter decessisse cognovi, ne gravissimo dolori timore consuescerem. In tantis tormentis eram cum scriberem haec ut haec scriberem sola; neque enim nunc aliud aut cogitare aut loqui possum. Vale.
My love for you compels me — not to instruct you, for you need no instructor — yet to admonish you, that you hold and observe what you know, or else it were better not to know it.
Amor in te meus cogit, non ut praecipiam - neque enim praeceptore eges -, admoneam tamen, ut quae scis teneas et observes, aut nescire melius.
Consider that you are sent into the province of Achaia, that true and unmixed Greece, in which civilization, letters, even crops are believed first to have been discovered; sent to order the condition of free cities, that is, to men who are most men, to free men who are most free, who have held the right given by nature by their virtue, their deserts, their friendship — in short, by treaty and by religion.
Cogita te missum in provinciam Achaiam, illam veram et meram Graeciam, in qua primum humanitas litterae, etiam fruges inventae esse creduntur; missum ad ordinandum statum liberarum civitatum, id est ad homines maxime homines, ad liberos maxime liberos, qui ius a natura datum virtute meritis amicitia, foedere denique et religione tenuerunt.
Reverence the founder gods and the names of gods; reverence their ancient glory and this very old age, which in a man is venerable, in cities sacred. Let there be with you honor for antiquity, for mighty deeds, for legends too. Pluck nothing from anyone’s dignity, nothing from his liberty, nothing even from his boasting.
Reverere conditores deos et nomina deorum, reverere gloriam veterem et hanc ipsam senectutem, quae in homine venerabilis, in urbibus sacra. Sit apud te honor antiquitati, sit ingentibus factis, sit fabulis quoque. Nihil ex cuiusquam dignitate, nihil ex libertate, nihil etiam ex iactatione decerpseris.
Keep before your eyes that this is the land which sent us our laws, which gave us its statutes not to the conquered but to those who asked; that it is Athens you approach, Sparta you govern; to snatch from whom the remaining shadow and surviving name of liberty would be harsh, savage, barbarous.
Habe ante oculos hanc esse terram, quae nobis miserit iura, quae leges non victis sed petentibus dederit, Athenas esse quas adeas Lacedaemonem esse quam regas; quibus reliquam umbram et residuum libertatis nomen eripere durum ferum barbarum est.
You see that by physicians, although in sickness slave and free differ in nothing, the free are nevertheless handled more gently and mildly. Recall what each city was, but not so as to despise what it has ceased to be; let pride, let harshness, be far off.
Vides a medicis, quamquam in adversa valetudine nihil servi ac liberi differant, mollius tamen liberos clementiusque tractari. Recordare quid quaeque civitas fuerit, non ut despicias quod esse desierit; absit superbia asperitas.
Nor fear contempt. Is he despised who has command, who has the fasces, unless he is base and sordid, and is himself the first to despise himself? Ill does power test its own strength by insults to others; ill is reverence won by terror; and far stronger is love than fear for obtaining what you wish. For fear departs if you withdraw; love remains, and as the one turns into hatred, so the other into reverence.
Nec timueris contemptum. An contemnitur qui imperium qui fasces habet, nisi humilis et sordidus, et qui se primus ipse contemnit? Male vim suam potestas aliorum contumeliis experitur, male terrore veneratio acquiritur, longeque valentior amor ad obtinendum quod velis quam timor. Nam timor abit si recedas, manet amor, ac sicut ille in odium hic in reverentiam vertitur.
But you, again and again — for I will repeat it — must remember the title of your office, and interpret to yourself what and how great a thing it is to order the condition of free cities. For what is more befitting a citizen than ordering, what more precious than liberty?
Te vero etiam atque etiam - repetam enim - meminisse oportet officii tui titulum ac tibi ipsum interpretari, quale quantumque sit ordinare statum liberarum civitatum. Nam quid ordinatione civilius, quid libertate pretiosius?
Further, how shameful, if ordering be exchanged for overthrow, liberty for servitude! There is added that your contest is with yourself: there weighs upon you the fame of your quaestorship, the best of which you brought back from Bithynia; there weighs the prince’s testimony; there weigh your tribunate, your praetorship, and this very legation given as a reward.
Porro quam turpe, si ordinatio eversione, libertas servitute mutetur! Accedit quod tibi certamen est tecum: onerat te quaesturae tuae fama, quam ex Bithynia optimam revexisti; onerat testimonium principis; onerat tribunatus, praetura atque haec ipsa legatio quasi praemium data.
The more, therefore, must you strive that you not seem to have been more humane, better, more skilled in a distant province than in one near the city, among subjects than among the free, sent by lot than by choice, raw and unknown than tried and approved — since it is, besides, as you have often heard, often read, far more disgraceful to lose praise than not to win it.
Quo magis nitendum est ne in longinqua provincia quam suburbana, ne inter servientes quam liberos, ne sorte quam iudicio missus, ne rudis et incognitus quam exploratus probatusque humanior melior peritior fuisse videaris, cum sit alioqui, ut saepe audisti saepe legisti, multo deformius amittere quam non assequi laudem.
These things I would have you believe, as I said at the outset, that I have written admonishing, not instructing — though instructing too. For I do not fear that in love I have exceeded the measure. For there is no danger that that should be too much which ought to be the greatest. Farewell.
Haec velim credas, quod initio dixi, scripsisse me admonentem, non praecipientem; quamquam praecipientem quoque. Quippe non vereor, in amore ne modum excesserim. Neque enim periculum est ne sit nimium quod esse maximum debet. Vale.
I have often urged you to publish as soon as possible the books you composed either for yourself or against Planta — rather, both for yourself and against him, for so the matter compelled; and now above all, having heard of his death, I both exhort and advise it.
Saepe te monui, ut libros quos vel pro te vel in Plantam, immo et pro te et in illum - ita enim materia cogebat -, composuisti quam maturissime emitteres; quod nunc praecipue morte eius audita et hortor et moneo.
For although you have read them to many and given them to many to read, I would not have anyone suppose them only begun after his death, when you finished them while he was alive and well. Let your reputation for steadfastness be kept whole. And it will be, if it is known to friend and foe alike that the boldness to write was not born in you after your enemy’s death, but that an edition already prepared was forestalled by his dying.
Quamvis enim legeris multis legendosque dederis, nolo tamen quemquam opinari defuncto demum incohatos, quos incolumi eo peregisti. Salva sit tibi constantiae fama. Erit autem, si notum aequis iniquisque fuerit non post inimici mortem scribendi tibi natam esse fiduciam, sed iam paratam editionem morte praeventam.
And at the same time you will avoid that saying, "there is no piety in triumphing over the dead." For what was written of a living man and recited of a living man is published against the dead too as if he were still living, provided it is published at once. So if you have anything else in hand, put it off for now; finish this, which to us who have read it has long seemed complete. But let it now seem so to you as well, since the matter itself does not call for your delay, and the reckoning of the time cuts it short. Farewell.
Et simul vitabis illud οὐχ ὁσίη φθιμένοισι. Nam quod de vivente scriptum de vivente recitatum est, in defunctum quoque tamquam viventem adhuc editur, si editur statim. Igitur si quid aliud in manibus, interim differ; hoc perfice, quod nobis qui legimus olim absolutum videtur. Sed iam videatur et tibi, cuius cunctationem nec res ipsa desiderat, et temporis ratio praecidit. Vale.
You do me a kindness in demanding not only the most letters from me but the longest as well — in which I have been rather sparing, partly because I stood in awe of your engagements, partly because I myself was much torn apart, mostly by chilly affairs that both distract the mind and break it up. Besides, no matter was given me for writing more.
Facis iucunde quod non solum plurimas epistulas meas verum etiam longissimas flagitas; in quibus parcior fui partim quia tuas occupationes verebar, partim quia ipse multum distringebar plerumque frigidis negotiis quae simul et avocant animum et comminuunt. Praeterea nec materia plura scribendi dabatur.
For my condition is not the same as that of Marcus Tullius, to whose example you summon me. He had both the most copious genius, and a wealth of matter — in variety and in magnitude alike — supplied most lavishly to match that genius;
Neque enim eadem nostra condicio quae M. Tulli, ad cuius exemplum nos vocas. Illi enim et copiosissimum ingenium, et par ingenio qua varietas rerum qua magnitudo largissime suppetebat;
while within what narrow bounds I am shut up you perceive even though I say nothing — unless perhaps I should choose to send you bookish, and, so to speak, cloistered letters.
nos quam angustis terminis claudamur etiam tacente me perspicis, nisi forte volumus scholasticas tibi atque, ut ita dicam, umbraticas litteras mittere.
But I judge nothing less fitting, when I think of your arms, your camps, your horns and trumpets in the end, your sweat and dust and burning suns.
Sed nihil minus aptum arbitramur, cum arma vestra cum castra, eum denique cornua tubas sudorem pulverem soles cogitamus.
You have, I think, a fair excuse — which yet I am unsure I wish you to accept. For it is the mark of the highest love to refuse pardon to a friend’s brief letters, even though you know they have good reason on their side. Farewell.
Habes, ut puto, iustam excusationem, quam tamen dubito an tibi probari velim. Est enim summi amoris negare veniam brevibus epistulis amicorum, quamvis scias illis constare rationem. Vale.
One man thinks one thing, another another: I count him most blessed who enjoys the foretaste of a good and lasting fame, and, sure of posterity, lives already with the glory to come. As for me, were the reward of eternity not before my eyes, that rich and deep repose would please me well.
Alius aliud: ego beatissimum existimo, qui bonae mansuraeque famae praesumptione perfruitur, certusque posteritatis cum futura gloria vivit. Ac mihi nisi praemium aeternitatis ante oculos, pingue illud altumque otium placeat.
For I hold that all men ought to weigh either their immortality or their mortality, and that the former should strive and strain, the latter take their rest and ease, and not wear out a brief life with perishable labors — as I see many do, who by a wretched and thankless show of industry arrive at the cheapening of themselves.
Etenim omnes homines arbitror oportere aut immortalitatem suam aut mortalitatem cogitare, et illos quidem contendere eniti, hos quiescere remitti, nec brevem vitam caducis laboribus fatigare, ut video multos misera simul et ingrata imagine industriae ad vilitatem sui pervenire.
These things I say with you that I say daily with myself — that I may cease to say them with myself, should you dissent. Yet you will not dissent, being one who always meditates something bright and immortal. Farewell.
Haec ego tecum quae cotidie mecum, ut desinam mecum, si dissenties tu; quamquam non dissenties, ut qui semper clarum aliquid et immortale meditere. Vale.
I should fear you might think the speech immoderate which you will receive with this letter, were it not of such a kind that it seems to begin again and again and to end again and again. For under each charge there is contained, as it were, a separate case.
Vererer ne immodicam orationem putares, quam cum hac epistula accipies, nisi esset generis eius ut saepe incipere saepe desinere videatur. am singulis criminibus singulae velut causae continentur.
So wherever you begin, wherever you leave off, you will be able to read what follows next both as a fresh start and as continuous — and to judge me, in the whole, very long, but in the parts very short. Farewell.
Poteris ergo, undecumque coeperis ubicumque desieris, quae deinceps sequentur et quasi incipientia legere et quasi cohaerentia, meque in universitate longissimum, brevissimum in partibus iudicare. Vale.
You do nobly — for I make inquiry — and keep at it: that you commend your justice to the provincials with much humanity, of which the chief part is to embrace each most honorable man, and so to be loved by the lesser that you are at the same time esteemed by the leading men.
Egregie facis - inquiro enim - et persevera, quod iustitiam tuam provincialibus multa humanitate commendas; cuius praecipua pars est honestissimum quemque complecti, atque ita a minoribus amari, ut simul a principibus diligare.
But most men, while they fear to seem to grant too much to the favor of the powerful, win themselves a name for perversity and even for spite.
Plerique autem dum verentur, ne gratiae potentium nimium impertire videantur, sinisteritatis atque etiam malignitatis famam consequuntur.
From that fault you have withdrawn far off, I know; yet I cannot restrain myself from praising in the manner of one who admonishes, because you keep such a measure that you guard the distinctions of ranks and dignities — which, if they are confounded, disordered, mingled together, then nothing is more unequal than equality itself. Farewell.
A quo vitio tu longe recessisti, scio, sed temperare mihi non possum quominus laudem similis monenti, quod eum modum tenes ut discrimina ordinum dignitatumque custodias; quae si confusa turbata permixta sunt, nihil est ipsa aequalitate inaequalius. Vale.
All this time I have passed in the most delightful quiet among my writing-tablets and my little books. "How," you ask, "could you, in the city?" The Races were on — a kind of spectacle by which I am not held in the very least. There is nothing new, nothing varied, nothing that it is not enough to have watched once.
Omne hoc tempus inter pugillares ac libellos iucundissima quiete transmisi. ’Quemadmodum’ inquis ’in urbe potuisti?’ Circenses erant, quo genere spectaculi ne levissime quidem teneor. Nihil novum nihil varium, nihil quod non semel spectasse sufficiat.
So much the more do I wonder that so many thousands of grown men should so childishly long, again and again, to see horses running and men standing in chariots. If at least they were drawn by the speed of the horses or the skill of the men, there would be some reason in it; but as it is, they favor a rag, they love a rag, and if in mid-course, in the very heat of the contest, this color were carried over there and that one over here, their zeal and favor will cross over too, and on the instant they will desert those drivers, those horses, whom they recognize from afar, whose names they shout.
Quo magis miror tot milia virorum tam pueriliter identidem cupere currentes equos, insistentes curribus homines videre. Si tamen aut velocitate equorum aut hominum arte traherentur, esset ratio non nulla; nunc favent panno, pannum amant, et si in ipso cursu medioque certamine hic color illuc ille huc transferatur, studium favorque transibit, et repente agitatores illos equos illos, quos procul noscitant, quorum clamitant nomina relinquent.
So much grace, so much authority in one cheap tunic — I pass over the mob, which is cheaper than the tunic, but among certain serious men too; and when I recall that they sit so insatiably at a thing so empty, so cold, so unvarying, I take a certain pleasure in not being taken by this pleasure.
Tanta gratia tanta auctoritas in una vilissima tunica, mitto apud vulgus, quod vilius tunica, sed apud quosdam graves homines; quos ego cum recordor, in re inani frigida assidua, tam insatiabiliter desidere, capio aliquam voluptatem, quod hac voluptate non capior.
And through these days I most gladly invest my leisure in letters, which others squander in the idlest of occupations. Farewell.
Ac per hos dies libentissime otium meum in litteris colloco, quos alii otiosissimis occupationibus perdunt. Vale.
You write that you are building. Good — I have found my defense; for now I build with reason, since I build along with you. For in this too we are not unlike: you build by the sea, I by the Larian lake.
Aedificare te scribis. Bene est, inveni patrocinium; aedifico enim iam ratione quia tecum. Nam hoc quoque non dissimile quod ad mare tu, ego ad Larium lacum.
On its shore I have several villas, but two above all that delight me as much as they keep me busy.
Huius in litore plures meae villae, sed duae maxime ut delectant ita exercent.
The one, set upon rocks in the manner of Baiae, looks down upon the lake; the other, equally in the manner of Baiae, touches the lake. And so I am wont to call the one Tragedy, the other Comedy — the one because it is borne up as if on the high buskin, the other as if on the low slipper. Each has its own charm, and to its possessor each is the more delightful for the very difference.
Altera imposita saxis more Baiano lacum prospicit, altera aeque more Baiano lacum tangit. Itaque illam tragoediam, hanc appellare comoediam soleo, illam quod quasi cothurnis, hanc quod quasi socculis sustinetur. Sua utrique amoenitas, et utraque possidenti ipsa diversitate iucundior.
The latter enjoys the lake more nearly, the former more broadly; the latter embraces a single bay in a soft curve, the former, on its lofty ridge, divides two; there a straight drive stretches in a long line above the shore, here it bends gently along a most spacious terrace; the one does not feel the waves, the other breaks them; from the one you might look down on the fishermen, from the other fish yourself, and cast your hook from the bedchamber and almost even from the couch, as from a little boat. These are my reasons for adding to each what it lacks, on account of what it has in abundance.
Haec lacu propius, illa latius utitur; haec unum sinum molli curvamine amplectitur, illa editissimo dorso duos dirimit; illic recta gestatio longo limite super litus extenditur, hic spatiosissimo xysto leviter inflectitur; illa fluctus non sentit haec frangit; ex illa possis despicere piscantes, ex hac ipse piscari, hamumque de cubiculo ac paene etiam de lectulo ut e naucula iacere. Hae mihi causae utrique quae desunt astruendi ob ea quae supersunt.
And yet why do I give you a reason? — with whom it will count as reason enough to do the same. Farewell.
Etsi quid ego rationem tibi? apud quem pro ratione erit idem facere. Vale.
If, having been praised by you, I begin to praise you, I fear I may seem not so much to deliver my judgment as to repay a kindness. But seem so I may: I count all your writings most beautiful — yet most of all those about me.
Si laudatus a te laudare te coepero, vereor ne non tam proferre iudicium meum quam referre gratiam videar. Sed licet videar, omnia scripta tua pulcherrima existimo, maxime tamen illa de nobis.
This comes about for one and the same reason. For you write best what you write of your friends, and I read as best what is written of me. Farewell.
Accidit hoc una eademque de causa. Nam et tu, quae de amicis, optime scribis, et ego, quae de me, ut optima lego. Vale.
I wholly approve that you are so grieved by the death of Pompeius Quintianus that you prolong by your longing the love of one you have lost — not like most men, who love only the living, or rather pretend to love them, and do not even pretend except toward those they see prospering; for they forget the wretched no less than the dead. But in you there is a fidelity that lasts and so great a constancy in love that it cannot be ended save by your own death.
Unice probo quod Pompei Quintiani morte tam dolenter afficeris, ut amissi caritatem desiderio extendas, non ut plerique qui tantum viventes amant seu potius amare se simulant, ac ne simulant quidem nisi quos florentes vident; nam miserorum non secus ac defunctorum obliviscuntur. Sed tibi perennis fides tantaque in amore constantia, ut finiri nisi tua morte non possit.
And, by Hercules, such was Quintianus that he deserved to be loved after his own example. He loved the fortunate, protected the wretched, longed for the lost. Then how great the integrity in his face, how great the deliberateness in his speech, with how even a balance his gravity and his geniality! What devotion to letters, what judgment! With what dutifulness he lived alongside a father most unlike himself! How little it stood in the way of his seeming the best of men that he was the best of sons!
Et hercule is fuit Quintianus, quem diligi deceat ipsius exemplo. Felices amabat, miseros tuebatur, desiderabat amissos. Iam illa quanta probitas in ore, quanta in sermone cunctatio, quam pari libra gravitas comitasque! quod studium litterarum, quod iudicium! qua pietate cum dissimillimo patre vivebat! quam non obstabat illi, quo minus vir optimus videretur, quod erat optimus filius!
But why do I chafe your grief? And yet you so loved the young man that you would rather have this than have him passed over in silence — by me above all, by whose proclaiming you think his life is adorned, his memory prolonged, and even that very youth in which he was snatched away can be restored to him. Farewell.
Sed quid dolorem tuum exulcero? Quamquam sic amasti iuvenem ut hoc potius quam de illo sileri velis, a me praesertim cuius praedicatione putas vitam eius ornari, memoriam prorogari, ipsamque illam qua est raptus aetatem posse restitui. Vale.
I long to obey your precepts; but there is such a dearth of boars that Minerva and Diana, who you say must be cultivated alike, cannot be reconciled.
Cupio praeceptis tuis parere; sed aprorum tanta penuria est, ut Minervae et Dianae, quas ais pariter colendas, convenire non possit.
And so Minerva alone must be served — delicately, though, as suits a retreat and the summer. On the road I did indeed spin out some lighter pieces, to be scrapped at once, with that loquacity by which conversations are strung along in a carriage. To these I added a few things at the villa, when nothing else took my fancy. So my poems lie idle, which you suppose are most conveniently finished off among the groves and woodland glades.
Itaque Minervae tantum serviendum est, delicate tamen ut in secessu et aestate. In via plane non nulla leviora statimque delenda ea garrulitate qua sermones in vehiculo seruntur extendi. His quaedam addidi in villa, cum aliud non liberet. Itaque poemata quiescunt, quae tu inter nemora et lucos commodissime perfici putas.
A little speech or two I have revised — though that kind of work is unlovely and uncharming, and more like the labors of the countryside than its pleasures. Farewell.
Oratiunculam unam alteram retractavi; quamquam id genus operis inamabile inamoenum, magisque laboribus ruris quam voluptatibus simile. Vale.
I have received your most delightful letter, all the more so because you wished something to be written to you that might be inserted in my books. A subject will turn up — either this very one you point out, or another better. For in this there are some stumbling-blocks: cast your eyes around and they will meet you.
Epistulam tuam iucundissimam accepi, eo maxime quod aliquid ad te scribi volebas, quod libris inseri posset. Obveniet materia vel haec ipsa quam monstras, vel potior alia. Sunt enim in hac offendicula non nulla: circumfer oculos et occurrent.
I did not think there were booksellers at Lugdunum, and so much the more gladly did I learn from your letter that my little books are sold there; I am delighted that they keep abroad the favor they gathered in the city. For I begin to reckon a thing finished enough on which, across so great a diversity of regions, the divided judgments of men agree. Farewell.
Bibliopolas Lugduni esse non putabam ac tanto libentius ex litteris tuis cognovi venditari libellos meos, quibus peregre manere gratiam quam in urbe collegerint delector. Incipio enim satis absolutum existimare, de quo tanta diversitate regionum discreta hominum iudicia consentiunt. Vale.
A certain man was rebuking his son for buying horses and dogs a little too lavishly. To him, when the young man had withdrawn, I said: "Look here — did you never do anything for which your own father might have taken you to task? ‘You did,’ I say. Do you not from time to time do something that your son, if he were suddenly the father and you the son, would reprove with equal severity? Are not all men led astray by some error? Does not one man indulge himself in this, another in that?"
Castigabat quidam filium suum quod paulo sumptuosius equos et canes emeret. Huic ego iuvene digresso: ’Heus tu, numquamne fecisti, quod a patre corripi posset? "Fecisti" dico. Non interdum facis quod filius tuus, si repente pater ille tu filius, pari gravitate reprehendat? Non omnes homines aliquo errore ducuntur? Non hic in illo sibi, in hoc alius indulget?’
This I have written to you, prompted by an example of immoderate severity, out of our mutual love, lest you too should ever treat your son too harshly and too hard. Consider that he is a boy and that you have been one, and so make use of this that you are a father as to remember that you are both a man and a man’s father. Farewell.
Haec tibi admonitus immodicae severitatis exemplo, pro amore mutuo scripsi, ne quando tu quoque filium tuum acerbius duriusque tractares. Cogita et illum puerum esse et te fuisse, atque ita hoc quod es pater utere, ut memineris et hominem esse te et hominis patrem. Vale.
The more eagerly and attentively you have read the books I composed on the vindication of Helvidius, the more urgently you demand that I write you fully both what lies outside the books and what surrounds them — in short, the whole sequence of the affair, in which, by reason of your youth, you took no part.
Quanto studiosius intentiusque legisti libros quos de Helvidi ultione composui, tanto impensius postulas, ut perscribam tibi quaeque extra libros quaeque circa libros, totum denique ordinem rei cui per aetatem non interfuisti.
When Domitian had been killed, I settled with myself and deliberated that here was a great and noble occasion — to pursue the guilty, to avenge the wretched, to put oneself forward. Now among the many crimes of many men none seemed more atrocious than that in the Senate a senator had laid hands on a senator, a man of praetorian rank on a consular, a judge on a defendant.
Occiso Domitiano statui mecum ac deliberavi, esse magnam pulchramque materiam insectandi nocentes, miseros vindicandi, se proferendi. Porro inter multa scelera multorum nullum atrocius videbatur, quam quod in senatu senator senatori, praetorius consulari, reo iudex manus intulisset.
I had, besides, had a friendship with Helvidius — as much as could be had with a man who, through fear of the times, hid a great name and matching virtues in retirement; I had one too with Arria and Fannia, of whom the one was Helvidius’s stepmother, the other the mother of his stepmother. But it was not so much private claims that spurred me as the public sanctity, the outrageousness of the deed, and the consideration of the precedent.
Fuerat alioqui mihi cum Helvidio amicitia, quanta potuerat esse cum eo, qui metu temporum nomen ingens paresque virtutes secessu tegebat; fuerat cum Arria et Fannia, quarum altera Helvidi noverca, altera mater novercae. Sed non ita me iura privata, ut publicum fas et indignitas facti et exempli ratio incitabat.
And in the first days of liberty restored, each man for himself had arraigned his own enemies — the lesser ones, at least — and crushed them at once, with an unshapen and turbulent clamor. I, thinking it both more modest and more steadfast to press a monstrous defendant not by the common odium of the times but by his own particular crime, when that first onset had now subsided enough and anger, growing fainter day by day, had returned to justice — though I was then at my most sorrowful, having lately lost my wife — sent to Anteia (she had been married to Helvidius); I asked her to come, since my grief, still fresh, kept me within my threshold.
Ac primis quidem diebus redditae libertatis pro se quisque inimicos suos, dumtaxat minores, incondito turbidoque clamore postulaverat simul et oppresserat. Ego et modestius et constantius arbitratus immanissimum reum non communi temporum invidia, sed proprio crimine urgere, cum iam satis primus ille impetus defremuisset et languidior in dies ira ad iustitiam redisset, quamquam tum maxime tristis amissa nuper uxore, mitto ad Anteiam - nupta haec Helvidio fuerat -; rogo ut veniat, quia me recens adhuc luctus limine contineret.
When she came, I said: "It is fixed in my mind not to let your husband go unavenged. Carry word to Arria and Fannia" — they had returned from exile — "consult yourself, consult them, whether you wish to be enrolled in a deed for which I need no companion; but I would not so favor my own glory as to grudge you a share in it." Anteia bears the message, and they do not delay.
Ut venit, ’Destinatum est’ inquam ’mihi maritum tuum non inultum pati. Nuntia Arriae et Fanniae’ - ab exsilio redierant -, ’consule te, consule illas, an velitis ascribi facto, in quo ego comite non egeo; sed non ita gloriae meae faverim, ut vobis societate eius invideam.’ Perfert Anteia mandata, nec illae morantur.
Opportunely, there was a meeting of the Senate within two days. I had always referred everything to Corellius, whom I have known as the most far-sighted and wisest man of our age: in this, however, I was content with my own counsel, fearing he would forbid me; for he was rather hesitant and over-cautious. Yet I could not bring myself not to disclose to him, that very day, that I would do what I was not deliberating whether to do — having learned by experience that, concerning a thing you have resolved upon, you must not consult those whose counsel, once given, you ought to obey.
Opportune senatus intra diem tertium. Omnia ego semper ad Corellium rettuli, quem providentissimum aetatis nostrae sapientissimumque cognovi: in hoc tamen contentus consilio meo fui veritus ne vetaret; erat enim cunctantior cautiorque. Sed non sustinui inducere in animum, quominus illi eodem die facturum me indicarem, quod an facerem non deliberabam, expertus usu de eo quod destinaveris non esse consulendos quibus consultis obsequi debeas.
I come into the Senate, I ask leave to speak, I speak a little while amid the greatest assent. When I began to touch on the crime, to mark out the defendant — still, however, without a name — there was an outcry against me on every side. One: "Let us know who it is you are bringing forward out of order"; another: "Who is a defendant before the motion is made?"; another: "Let us be safe, we who survive."
Venio in senatum, ius dicendi peto, dico paulisper maximo assensu. Ubi coepi crimen attingere, reum destinare, adhuc tamen sine nomine, undique mihi reclamari. Alius: ’Sciamus, quis sit de quo extra ordinem referas’, alius: ’Quis est ante relationem reus?’, alius: ’Salvi simus, qui supersumus.’
I listen, unperturbed, undaunted: so much does the honorableness of an undertaking avail, and so much does it matter, for confidence or for fear, whether men are unwilling for what you do or merely do not approve it. It would be long to recount all that was then flung from this side and that.
Audio imperturbatus interritus: tantum susceptae rei honestas valet, tantumque ad fiduciam vel metum differt, nolint homines quod facias an non probent. Longum est omnia quae tunc hinc inde iacta sunt recensere.
At last the consul said: "Secundus, you shall speak in your turn, when sentences are given, if you wish to say anything." "You had granted me," I said, "what up to now you have granted to all."
Novissime consul: ’Secunde, sententiae loco dices, si quid volueris.’ ’Permiseras’ inquam ’quod usque adhuc omnibus permisisti.’
I sit down; other business goes forward. Meanwhile one of my consular friends, in a private and carefully measured speech, takes me to task as having advanced too boldly and incautiously, calls me back, advises me to desist, and even adds: "You have made yourself a marked man to future emperors." "So be it," I said, "so long as they are bad ones."
Resido; aguntur alia. Interim me quidam ex consularibus amicis, secreto curatoque sermone, quasi nimis fortiter incauteque progressum corripit revocat, monet ut desistam, adicit etiam: ’Notabilem te futuris principibus fecisti.’ ’Esto’ inquam ’dum malis.’
Scarcely had he gone when another in turn: "What are you daring? Where are you rushing? To what dangers are you exposing yourself? Why trust the present when the future is uncertain? You are provoking a man who is already prefect of the treasury and soon to be consul — and besides, by what favor, by what friendships, propped up!" He names a certain man who at that time held a very great army in the East, not without great and doubtful rumors.
Vix ille discesserat, rursus alter: ’Quid audes? Quo ruis? Quibus te periculis obicis? Quid praesentibus confidis incertus futurorum? Lacessis hominem iam praefectum aerarii et brevi consulem, praeterea qua gratia quibus amicitiis fultum!’ Nominat quendam, qui tunc ad orientem amplissimum exercitum non sine magnis dubiisque rumoribus obtinebat.
To this I answered: "`I have foreseen all and gone through it all before in my mind’; nor do I refuse, if chance should so bring it about, to pay the penalty for a most honorable deed, provided I avenge a most shameful one."
Ad haec ego: "Omnia praecepi atque animo mecum ante peregi" nec recuso, si ita casus attulerit, luere poenas ob honestissimum factum, dum flagitiosissimum ulciscor.’
Now the time for delivering opinions. Domitius Apollinaris, consul-designate, speaks; Fabricius Veiento speaks, Fabius Postuminus, Bittius Proculus — the colleague of Publicius Certus, who was the man in question, and the stepfather of my wife, whom I had lost — and after these Ammius Flaccus. All defend Certus, not yet named by me, as though named, and take up by their defense a charge left, as it were, in the middle of the floor.
Iam censendi tempus. Dicit Domitius Apollinaris consul designatus, dicit Fabricius Veiento, Fabius Postuminus, Bittius Proculus collega Publici Certi, de quo agebatur, uxoris autem meae quam amiseram vitricus, post hos Ammius Flaccus. Omnes Certum nondum a me nominatum ut nominatum defendunt crimenque quasi in medio relictum defensione suscipiunt.
What else they said there is no need to relate: you have it in the books; for I have followed it all out in their own words.
Quae praeterea dixerint, non est necesse narrare: in libris habes; sum enim cuncta ipsorum verbis persecutus.
On the other side speak Avidius Quietus and Cornutus Tertullus: Quietus, that it was most unjust for the complaints of the grieving to be shut out, and that therefore the right of complaint should not be taken from Arria and Fannia, and that it mattered not of what order a man was, but what cause he had;
Dicunt contra Avidius Quietus, Cornutus Tertullus: Quietus, iniquissimum esse querelas dolentium excludi, ideoque Arriae et Fanniae ius querendi non auferendum, nec interesse cuius ordinis quis sit, sed quam causam habeat;
Cornutus, that he had been given by the consuls as guardian to Helvidius’s daughter, at the request of her mother and stepfather; that even now he could not bear to abandon the duties of his office, in which, however, he both set a measure to his own grief and bore the most modest wish of those most excellent women — who were content to remind the Senate of Publicius Certus’s bloody flattery and to ask that, if the penalty for a most manifest outrage were remitted, at least some mark, as it were of the censor, be branded upon him.
Cornutus, datum se a consulibus tutorem Helvidi filiae petentibus matre eius et vitrico; nunc quoque non sustinere deserere officii sui partes, in quo tamen et suo dolori modum imponere et optimarum feminarum perferre modestissimum affectum; quas contentas esse admonere senatum Publici Certi cruentae adulationis et petere, si poena flagitii manifestissimi remittatur, nota certe quasi censoria inuratur.
Then Satrius Rufus, in a middling, ambiguous speech: "I think," he said, "an injury is done to Publicius Certus if he is not acquitted; he has been named by the friends of Arria and Fannia, named by his own friends. And we need not be anxious; for the same men who think well of him will also be his judges. If he is innocent — as I both hope and prefer and, until something is proved, believe — you will be able to acquit him."
Tum Satrius Rufus medio ambiguoque sermone ’Puto’ inquit ’iniuriam factam Publicio Certo, si non absolvitur; nominatus est ab amicis Arriae et Fanniae, nominatus ab amicis suis. Nec debemus solliciti esse; idem enim nos, qui bene sentimus de homine, et iudicaturi sumus. Si innocens est, sicut et spero et malo et, donec aliquid probetur, credo, poteritis absolvere.’
So spoke they, each in the order in which he was called. It comes to me. I rise, I use the opening which is in the book, I answer them one by one. Wondrous with what attention, with what shouts they took it all in — they who but now were shouting against me: so great a turn followed either the dignity of the business, or the success of the speech, or the steadfastness of the prosecutor.
Haec illi quo quisque ordine citabantur. Venitur ad me. Consurgo, utor initio quod in libro est, respondeo singulis. Mirum qua intentione, quibus clamoribus omnia exceperint, qui modo reclamabant: tanta conversio vel negotii dignitatem vel proventum orationis vel actoris Constantiam subsecuta est.
I finish. Veiento begins to answer; no one suffers it; he is drowned out, shouted down, so much indeed that he said: "I beg you, conscript fathers, do not force me to implore the aid of the tribunes." And at once Murena the tribune: "I permit you, most distinguished Veiento, to speak." Then too there is an outcry.
Finio. Incipit respondere Veiento; nemo patitur; obturbatur obstrepitur, adeo quidem ut diceret: ’Rogo, patres conscripti, ne me cogatis implorare auxilium tribunorum.’ Et statim Murena tribunus: ’Permitto tibi, vir clarissime Veiento, dicere.’ Tunc quoque reclamatur.
Amid the delays the consul, the names having been called and the division carried through, dismisses the Senate, and left Veiento almost still standing and trying to speak. He complained much of this — so he called it — affront, with a verse of Homer: "Old man, in truth young warriors press you sorely."
Inter moras consul citatis nominibus et peracta discessione mittit senatum, ac paene adhuc stantem temptantemque dicere Veientonem reliquit. Multum ille de hac - ita vocabat - contumelia questus est Homerico versu: ὦ γέρον, ἦ μάλα δή σε νέοι τείρουσι μαχηταί.
There was hardly anyone in the Senate who did not embrace me, kiss me, and heap praise upon me in rivalry, because by taking up private enmities I had brought back the long-interrupted custom of consulting the public good; because in fine I had freed the Senate from the odium with which it blazed among the other orders, for that, strict toward everyone else, it spared senators alone by a kind of mutual connivance.
Non fere quisquam in senatu fuit, qui non me complecteretur exoscularetur certatimque laude cumularet, quod intermissum iam diu morem in publicum consulendi susceptis propriis simultatibus reduxissem; quod denique senatum invidia liberassem, qua flagrabat apud ordines alios, quod severus in ceteros senatoribus solis dissimulatione quasi mutua parceret.
These things were done in Certus’s absence; for he was, whether suspecting some such thing or, as was given for excuse, unwell. And as for a formal motion concerning him, Caesar did not refer it back to the Senate; yet I obtained what I had aimed at:
Haec acta sunt absente Certo; fuit enim seu tale aliquid suspicatus sive, ut excusabatur, infirmus. Et relationem quidem de eo Caesar ad senatum non remisit; obtinui tamen quod intenderam:
for Certus’s colleague received the consulship, and Certus received a successor, and plainly that came about which I had said at the close: "Let him give back, under the best of princes, the reward he received from the worst." Afterward I gathered up my speech as best I could and added much.
nam collega Certi consulatum, successorem Certus accepit, planeque factum est quod dixeram in fine: ’Reddat praemium sub optimo principe, quod a pessimo accepit.’ Postea actionem meam utcumque potui recollegi, addidi multa.
It happened by chance — yet not as though by chance — that, the books once published, Certus within a very few days was caught by sickness and died.
Accidit fortuitum, sed non tamquam fortuitum, quod editis libris Certus intra paucissimos dies implicitus morbo decessit.
I have heard men report that this image hovered before his mind, before his eyes — as though he saw me looming over him with a sword. Whether this is true I would not dare affirm; yet it matters, for the sake of the precedent, that it should seem true.
Audivi referentes hanc imaginem menti eius hanc oculis oberrasse, tamquam videret me sibi cum ferro imminere. Verane haec, affirmare non ausim; interest tamen exempli, ut vera videantur.
You have a letter which, if you weigh the measure of a letter, is no smaller than the books you read; but you will charge it to yourself, who were not content with the books. Farewell.
Habes epistulam, si modum epistulae cogites, libris quos legisti non minorem; sed imputabis tibi qui contentus libris non fuisti. Vale.
You do not applaud yourself, and I write nothing more in good faith than what I write of you. Whether posterity will have any care of us, I do not know; we at least deserve that it should have some — I do not say by genius, for that would be arrogant, but by zeal and labor and reverence for those who come after. Let us only press on by the road we have set out upon, which, as it has carried a few into light and fame, so has it brought many forth from darkness and silence. Farewell.
Nec ipse tibi plaudis, et ego nihil magis ex fide quam de te scribo. Posteris an aliqua cura nostri, nescio; nos certe meremur, ut sit aliqua, non dico ingenio - id enim superbum -, sed studio et labore et reverentia posterorum. Pergamus modo itinere instituto, quod ut paucos in lucem famamque provexit, ita multos e tenebris et silentio protulit. Vale.
I had fled to my Tuscan estate, to do everything at my own discretion. But this I cannot, not even in Tuscany: I am disturbed by so many petitions from the country-folk on every side, and so querulous, which I read with somewhat more reluctance than my own writings; for my own too I read reluctantly.
Refugeram in Tuscos, ut omnia ad arbitrium meum facerem. At hoc ne in Tuscis quidem: tam multis undique rusticorum libellis et tam querulis inquietor, quos aliquanto magis invitus quam meos lego; nam et meos invitus.
For I am revising certain little speeches, which, after an interval of time, is both a cold and a sour business. My accounts are neglected as though I were away.
Retracto enim actiunculas quasdam, quod post intercapedinem temporis et frigidum et acerbum est. Rationes quasi absente me negleguntur.
Now and then, however, I mount my horse and play the head of the household so far as this — that I ride over some part of the estate, but by way of an outing. Do you keep up our custom, and so write me, the rustic, the doings of the town. Farewell.
Interdum tamen equum conscendo et patrem familiae hactenus ago, quod aliquam partem praediorum, sed pro gestatione percurro. Tu consuetudinem serva, nobisque sic rusticis urbana acta perscribe. Vale.
That you took the highest pleasure from that most plentiful sort of hunting I do not wonder, when, in the manner of the historians, you write that the count could not be reckoned. For me there is neither leisure nor inclination to hunt: no leisure, because the vintage is in hand; no inclination, because it is meager.
Summam te voluptatem percepisse ex isto copiosissimo genere venandi non miror, cum historicorum more scribas numerum iniri non potuisse. Nobis venari nec vacat nec libet: non vacat quia vindemiae in manibus, non libet quia exiguae.
Yet I am bringing down, in place of new wine, new little verses, and to you, who so delightfully demand them, I will send them as soon as they shall seem to have finished fermenting. Farewell.
Devehimus tamen pro novo musto novos versiculos tibique iucundissime exigenti ut primum videbuntur defervisse mittemus. Vale.
I have received your letter, in which you complain that a dinner, however sumptuous, was a weariness to you, because buffoons, catamites, and fools were wandering among the tables.
Recepi litteras tuas quibus quereris taedio tibi fuisse quamvis lautissimam cenam, quia scurrae cinaedi moriones mensis inerrabant.
Will you not smooth out something of your frown? For my part I keep nothing of the sort, yet I put up with those who do. Why then do I not keep them? Because nothing of it delights me as unexpected or festive — whether something lewd is brought forth by a catamite, something wanton by a buffoon, something silly by a fool.
Vis tu remittere aliquid ex rugis? Equidem nihil tale habeo, habentes tamen fero. Cur ergo non habeo? Quia nequaquam me ut inexspectatum festivumve delectat, si quid molle a cinaedo, petulans a scurra, stultum a morione profertur.
It is not a reasoned judgment but a matter of taste that I tell you. And indeed how many do you think there are whom the very things by which you and I are caught and led on offend — some as foolish, some as most tiresome! How many, when a reader or a lyre-player or a comic actor has been brought in, call for their shoes, or recline with no less weariness than that with which you endured those — so you call them — monstrosities!
Non rationem sed stomachum tibi narro. Atque adeo quam multos putas esse, quos ea quibus ego et tu capimur et ducimur, partim ut inepta partim ut molestissima offendant! Quam multi, cum lector aut lyristes aut comoedus inductus est, calceos poscunt aut non minore cum taedio recubant, quam tu ista - sic enim appellas - prodigia perpessus es!
Let us, then, grant indulgence to other men’s amusements, that we may win it for our own. Farewell.
Demus igitur alienis oblectationibus veniam, ut nostris impetremus. Vale.
With what attention, with what zeal, with what memory, in fine, you have read my little books, your letter shows. So you make work for yourself, who draw out and invite me to wish to share as much as possible with you.
Qua intentione, quo studio, qua denique memoria legeris libellos meos, epistula tua ostendit. Ipse igitur exhibes negotium tibi qui elicis et invitas, ut quam plurima communicare tecum velim.
I will do it — by parts, though, and as it were in measured portions, lest I trouble that very memory to which I owe my thanks by constancy and abundance, and, overloaded and as it were crushed, force it to let go the single things for the many, the earlier for the later. Farewell.
Faciam, per partes tamen et quasi digesta, ne istam ipsam memoriam, cui gratias ago, assiduitate et copia turbem oneratamque et quasi oppressam cogam pluribus singula posterioribus priora dimittere. Vale.
You signify that you have read, in a certain letter of mine, that Verginius Rufus ordered to be inscribed on his tomb: Here lies Rufus, who once, when Vindex was put down, claimed the sovereign power not for himself but for his country. You reprehend him for ordering it, and add that Frontinus did better and more rightly, in forbidding any monument to be made for him at all; and at the end you ask me what I think of each.
Significas legisse te in quadam epistula mea iussisse Verginium Rufum inscribi sepulcro suo: Hic situs est Rufus, pulso qui Vindice quondam imperium asseruit non sibi sed patriae. Reprehendis quod iusserit, addis etiam melius rectiusque Frontinum, quod vetuerit omnino monumentum sibi fieri, meque ad extremum quid de utroque sentiam consulis.
I loved them both; I admired more the one you reprehend, and so admired him that I did not think he could ever be praised enough — whose defense I must now take up.
Utrumque dilexi, miratus sum magis quem tu reprehendis, atque ita miratus ut non putarem satis umquam posse laudari, cuius nunc mihi subeunda defensio est.
All who have done something great and memorable I judge worthy not only of pardon but even of praise, if they pursue the immortality they have earned, and strive to prolong, even by their final inscriptions, the fame of a name destined to live.
Omnes ego qui magnum aliquid memorandumque fecerunt, non modo venia verum etiam laude dignissimos iudico, si immortalitatem quam meruere sectantur, victurique nominis famam supremis etiam titulis prorogare nituntur.
Nor do I easily find anyone but Verginius whose modesty in proclaiming a thing was as great as his glory from the deed.
Nec facile quemquam nisi Verginium invenio, cuius tanta in praedicando verecundia quanta gloria ex facto.
I am myself a witness — loved and approved by him as an intimate — that just once, in my hearing, he was so far drawn out as to tell this one thing about his own affairs: that Cluvius had once spoken with him thus: "You know, Verginius, what fidelity is owed to history; so if you read anything in my histories otherwise than you would wish, I beg you pardon it." To which he: "Do you not know, Cluvius, that I did what I did precisely so that you all should be free to write whatever you pleased?"
Ipse sum testis, familiariter ab eo dilectus probatusque, semel omnino me audiente provectum, ut de rebus suis hoc unum referret, ita secum aliquando Cluvium locutum: ’Scis, Vergini, quae historiae fides debeatur; proinde si quid in historiis meis legis aliter ac velis rogo ignoscas.’ Ad hoc ille: ’Tune ignoras, Cluvi, ideo me fecisse quod feci, ut esset liberum vobis scribere quae libuisset?’
Come now, let us compare this very Frontinus in this very thing in which he seems to you more restrained and more sparing. He forbade a monument to be built — but in what words? "The expense of a monument is superfluous; the memory of us will endure, if by our life we have deserved it." Do you judge it more reserved to give one’s enduring memory to be read throughout the whole world than to mark, in one single place and in two little verses, what one has done?
Age dum, hunc ipsum Frontinum in hoc ipso, in quo tibi parcior videtur et pressior, comparemus. Vetuit exstrui monumentum, sed quibus verbis? ’Impensa monumenti supervacua est; memoria nostri durabit, si vita meruimus.’ An restrictius arbitraris per orbem terrarum legendum dare duraturam memoriam suam quam uno in loco duobus versiculis signare quod feceris?
And yet it is not my purpose to reprehend the one, but to defend the other; and what defense of him can be juster in your eyes than one drawn from a comparison with the man you preferred?
Quamquam non habeo propositum illum reprehendendi, sed hunc tuendi; cuius quae potest apud te iustior esse defensio, quam ex collatione eius quem praetulisti?
In my judgment, at least, neither is to be blamed: each strove toward glory with equal desire, by a different road — the one in seeking the inscriptions due to him, the other in preferring to seem to have scorned them. Farewell.
Meo quidem iudicio neuter culpandus, quorum uterque ad gloriam pari cupiditate, diverso itinere contendit, alter dum expetit debitos titulos, alter dum mavult videri contempsisse. Vale.
Your letter was the more delightful to me the longer it was, especially since it spoke wholly of my little books; that these are a pleasure to you I do not wonder, since you love all that is mine just as you love me.
Tua vero epistula tanto mihi iucundior fuit quanto longior erat, praesertim cum de libellis meis tota loqueretur; quos tibi voluptati esse non miror, cum omnia nostra perinde ac nos ames.
I myself am just now gathering a vintage — slender, indeed, yet more abundant than I had expected — if it is gathering now and then to pluck a grape, to visit the press, to taste the new wine from the vat, to steal up on my town servants, who are now in charge of the country hands and have left me to my secretaries and readers. Farewell.
Ipse cum maxime vindemias graciles quidem, uberiores tamen quam exspectaveram colligo, si colligere est non numquam decerpere uvam, torculum invisere, gustare de lacu mustum, obrepere urbanis, qui nunc rusticis praesunt meque notariis et lectoribus reliquerunt. Vale.
Your freedman, with whom you had said you were angry, came to me and, throwing himself at my feet, clung to them as though they were yours. He wept much, begged much, and was much silent too; in sum, he convinced me of a true repentance: I believe him reformed, because he feels that he has done wrong.
Libertus tuus, cui suscensere te dixeras, venit ad me advolutusque pedibus meis tamquam tuis haesit. Flevit multum, multum rogavit, multum etiam tacuit, in summa fecit mihi fidem paenitentiae verae: credo emendatum quia deliquisse se sentit.
You are angry, I know, and angry with reason — that too I know; but the praise of gentleness is greatest precisely when the cause of anger is most just.
Irasceris, scio, et irasceris merito, id quoque scio; sed tunc praecipua mansuetudinis laus, cum irae causa iustissima est.
You loved the man, and, I hope, will love him: meanwhile it is enough that you let yourself be entreated. You will be allowed to be angry again, if he deserves it — and, having been entreated, you will do so with the better excuse. Forgive something to his youth, something to his tears, something to your own indulgence. Do not torture him; do not torture yourself either; for you are tortured, gentle as you are, whenever you are angry.
Amasti hominem et, spero, amabis: interim sufficit ut exorari te sinas. Licebit rursus irasci, si meruerit, quod exoratus excusatius facies. Remitte aliquid adulescentiae ipsius, remitte lacrimis, remitte indulgentiae tuae. Ne torseris illum, ne torseris etiam te; torqueris enim cum tam lenis irasceris.
I fear I may seem not to ask but to compel, if I join my prayers to his; yet I will join them all the more fully and freely, the more sharply and sternly I rebuked the man himself, threatening flatly that I would never ask on his behalf again. This was for him, who needed to be frightened; not so for you — for perhaps I shall ask again, and again obtain it: let it only be such a request that it befits me to make and you to grant. Farewell.
Vereor ne videar non rogare sed cogere, si precibus eius meas iunxero; iungam tamen tanto plenius et effusius, quanto ipsum acrius severiusque corripui, destricte minatus numquam me postea rogaturum. Hoc illi, quem terreri oportebat, tibi non idem; nam fortasse iterum rogabo, impetrabo iterum: sit modo tale, ut rogare me, ut praestare te deceat. Vale.
The illness of Passennus Paulus has filled me with great anxiety, and that for the most and the justest of reasons. He is a most excellent, most honorable man, most devoted to me; and besides, in letters he rivals, expresses, reproduces the ancients — Propertius above all, from whom he draws his descent, a true offshoot and therefore most like him in the very thing in which Propertius was supreme.
Magna me sollicitudine affecit Passenni Pauli valetudo, et quidem plurimis iustissimisque de causis. Vir est optimus honestissimus, nostri amantissimus; praeterea in litteris veteres aemulatur exprimit reddit, Propertium in primis, a quo genus ducit, vera suboles eoque simillima illi in quo ille praecipuus.
If you take his elegies in hand, you will read a work polished, soft, delightful, and plainly written in the house of Propertius. Lately he has turned aside to lyric, in which he molds Horace as in those he molds that other; you would think — if kinship counts for anything in letters — that he is Horace’s kinsman too. Great variety, great range: he loves like one who loves most truly, grieves like one most impatient of grief, praises like one most generous, jests like one most witty — in short, he brings each thing to perfection as though it were the only thing.
Si elegos eius in manus sumpseris, leges opus tersum molle iucundum, et plane in Properti domo scriptum. Nuper ad lyrica deflexit, in quibus ita Horatium ut in illis illum alterum effingit: putes si quid in studiis cognatio valet, et huius propinquum. Magna varietas magna mobilitas: amat ut qui verissime, dolet ut qui impatientissime, laudat ut qui benignissime, ludit ut qui facetissime, omnia denique tamquam singula absolvit.
For this friend, for this genius, I was no less sick in mind than he in body, and at last I have recovered him, and at last myself. Congratulate me; congratulate letters themselves too, which from his peril came into as great a crisis as they will win glory from his recovery. Farewell.
Pro hoc ego amico, pro hoc ingenio non minus aeger animo quam corpore ille, tandem illum tandem me recepi. Gratulare mihi, gratulare etiam litteris ipsis, quae ex periculo eius tantum discrimen adierunt, quantum ex salute gloriae consequentur. Vale.
It has often befallen me, while pleading, that the centumviri, after long keeping themselves within the authority and gravity of judges, all at once, as though conquered and compelled, rose up together and applauded;
Frequenter agenti mihi evenit, ut centumviri cum diu se intra iudicum auctoritatem gravitatemque tenuissent, omnes repente quasi victi coactique consurgerent laudarentque;
often I have brought back from the Senate just such fame as I had most desired: never, however, have I taken greater pleasure than lately from a remark of Cornelius Tacitus. He was telling how a Roman knight sat beside him at the last Games. This man, after various learned conversations, asked: "Are you an Italian or a provincial?" He answered: "You know me — and indeed from my writings."
frequenter e senatu famam qualem maxime optaveram rettuli: numquam tamen maiorem cepi voluptatem, quam nuper ex sermone Corneli Taciti. Narrabat sedisse secum circensibus proximis equitem Romanum. Hunc post varios eruditosque sermones requisisse: ’Italicus es an provincialis?’ Se respondisse: ’Nosti me, et quidem ex studiis.’
To this the other: "Are you Tacitus or Pliny?" I cannot express how delightful it is to me that our names are rendered, by letters, as the property of literature, not of men — that each of us is known, even to those to whom he is otherwise unknown, by his writings.
Ad hoc illum: ’Tacitus es an Plinius?’ Exprimere non possum, quam sit iucundum mihi quod nomina nostra quasi litterarum propria, non hominum, litteris redduntur, quod uterque nostrum his etiam e studiis notus, quibus aliter ignotus est.
Something else of the same kind happened a few days ago. There reclined beside me an excellent man, Fadius Rufinus, and above him a fellow-townsman of his own, who that day had come to the city for the first time; to whom Rufinus, pointing me out: "Do you see this man?" Then much about my writings; and the other said: "It is Pliny."
Accidit aliud ante pauculos dies simile. Recumbebat mecum vir egregius, Fadius Rufinus, super eum municeps ipsius, qui illo die primum venerat in urbem; cui Rufinus demonstrans me: ’Vides hunc?’ Multa deinde de studiis nostris; et ille ’Plinius est’ inquit.
I will confess the truth: I take a great fruit of my labor. For if Demosthenes was rightly glad that an old Attic woman recognized him so — "This is Demosthenes" — ought I not to rejoice in the renown of my name? Indeed I both rejoice, and say that I rejoice.
Verum fatebor, capio magnum laboris mei fructum. An si Demosthenes iure laetatus est, quod illum anus Attica ita noscitavit: οὗτος ἐστι δημοσθένης, celebritate nominis mei gaudere non debeo? Ego vero et gaudeo et gaudere me dico.
For I do not fear to seem too boastful, when it is the judgment of others about me, not my own, that I bring forward — especially before you, who neither envy any man’s praises and favor mine. Farewell.
Neque enim vereor ne iactantior videar, cum de me aliorum iudicium non meum profero, praesertim apud te qui nec ullius invides laudibus et faves nostris. Vale.
You did well in taking back into your house and into your heart the freedman once dear to you, at the bidding of my letters. This will gladden you; me at least it gladdens — first because I see you so tractable that you can be governed in your anger, and next because you grant me so much that you either obey my authority or yield to my prayers. Therefore I both praise you and give you thanks; and at the same time I advise you for the future to show yourself placable toward the errors of your own people, even though there be no one to plead for them. Farewell.
Bene fecisti quod libertum aliquando tibi carum reducentibus epistulis meis in domum in animum recepisti. Iuvabit hoc te; me certe iuvat, primum quod te tam tractabilem video, ut in ira regi possis, deinde quod tantum mihi tribuis, ut vel auctoritati meae pareas vel precibus indulgeas. Igitur et laudo et gratias ago; simul in posterum moneo, ut te erroribus tuorum, etsi non fuerit qui deprecetur, placabilem praestes. Vale.
You complain of the throng of camp business and yet, as though you enjoyed the most perfect leisure, you read, love, and demand my trifles and frivolities, and stir me, not a little, to compose more of the same.
Quereris de turba castrensium negotiorum et, tamquam summo otio perfruare, lusus et ineptias nostras legis amas flagitas, meque ad similia condenda non mediocriter incitas.
For I am beginning to seek from this kind of study not only delight but even glory, after the judgment of you — a man most learned, most weighty, and, above all that, most truthful.
Incipio enim ex hoc genere studiorum non solum oblectationem verum etiam gloriam petere, post iudicium tuum viri eruditissimi gravissimi ac super ista verissimi.
Just now the conduct of affairs keeps me busy, in a moderate way; once it is done, I will send something of those same Camenae into that most kindly bosom of yours. You will give wings to my little sparrows and doves among your eagles — if, that is, they please you too; but if they please only themselves, you will see that they are kept shut in their cage or nest. Farewell.
Nunc me rerum actus modice sed tamen distringit; quo finito aliquid earundem Camenarum in istum benignissimum sinum mittam. Tu passerculis et columbulis nostris inter aquilas vestras dabis pennas, si tamen et tibi placebunt; si tantum sibi, continendos cavea nidove curabis. Vale.
I said of a certain orator of our age — correct, indeed, and sound, but too little grand and ornate — aptly, as I think: "He makes no fault, except that he makes no fault."
Dixi de quodam oratore saeculi nostri recto quidem et sano, sed parum grandi et ornato, ut opinor, apte: ’Nihil peccat, nisi quod nihil peccat.’
For an orator ought to be lifted up, raised high, sometimes even to boil over and be carried away, and often to approach the precipice; for as a rule sheer drops lie beside what is lofty and exalted. The way across the level is safer, but lowlier and more sunken; the fall is more frequent for runners than for crawlers, but for the latter, though they do not fall, there is no praise, while for the former there is some, even if they should slip.
Debet enim orator erigi attolli, interdum etiam effervescere ecferri, ac saepe accedere ad praeceps; nam plerumque altis et excelsis adiacent abrupta. Tutius per plana sed humilius et depressius iter; frequentior currentibus quam reptantibus lapsus, sed his non labentibus nulla, illis non nulla laus etiamsi labantur.
For, as with certain arts, so with eloquence: nothing recommends it more than what is hazardous. You see how those who strain upward along a rope are wont to rouse the loudest shouts, just when they seem on the very point of falling.
Nam ut quasdam artes ita eloquentiam nihil magis quam ancipitia commendant. Vides qui per funem in summa nituntur, quantos soleant excitare clamores, cum iam iamque casuri videntur.
For the most marvelous things are the most unhoped-for, the most perilous — and, as the Greeks put it more forcibly, "venturesome." Therefore the helmsman’s merit is by no means equal when he sails on a calm sea and on a troubled one: in the one case, with no one admiring, he comes into harbor unpraised and inglorious; but when the ropes whistle, the mast bends, the rudders groan, then he is famous and next to the gods of the sea.
Sunt enim maxime mirabilia quae maxime insperata, maxime opericulosa utque Graeci magis exprimunt, παράβολα. Ideo nequaquam par gubernatoris est virtus, cum placido et cum turbato mari vehitur: tunc admirante nullo, illaudatus inglorius subit portum, at cum stridunt funes curvatur arbor gubernacula gemunt, tunc ille clarus et dis maris proximus.
Why all this? Because you seemed to me to have marked in my writings certain things as swollen which I thought sublime, as extravagant which I thought daring, as excessive which I thought full. But it makes the greatest difference whether you note what is to be blamed or what is distinguished.
Cur haec? Quia visus es mihi in scriptis meis adnotasse quaedam ut tumida quae ego sublimia, ut improba quae ego audentia, ut nimia quae ego plena arbitrabar. Plurimum autem refert, reprehendenda adnotes an insignia.
For everyone notices what stands out and projects; but it must be discerned with keen attention whether a thing is immoderate or grand, lofty or monstrous. And — to lay hold of Homer in particular — what reader, on either side, can the line escape, "and round about the great heaven trumpeted"... "and his spear leaned against the cloud," and that whole passage, "nor does the wave of the sea so bellow"?
Omnis enim advertit, quod eminet et exstat; sed acri intentione diiudicandum est, immodicum sit an grande, altum an enorme. Atque ut Homerum potissimum attingam, quem tandem alterutram in partem potest fugere ἀμφὶ δὲ σάλπιγξεν μέγας οὐρανός... ἠέρι δʼ ἔγχος ἐκεκλιτο et totum illud οὔτε θαλάσσης κῦμα τόσον βοάᾳ?
But there is need of the scale and the balance, to judge whether these things are incredible and empty, or magnificent and heavenly. Nor do I now suppose that I have said, or could say, anything like them — I am not so mad — but I wish this to be understood: that the reins of eloquence must be loosened, and the impetus of genius not broken back within the narrowest of circles.
Sed opus est examine et libra, incredibile sint haec et inania an magnifica caelestia. Nec nunc ego me his similia aut dixisse aut posse dicere puto - non ita insanio -, sed hoc intellegi volo, laxandos esse eloquentiae frenos, nec angustissimo gyro ingeniorum impetus refringendos.
"But the case of orators is one thing, of poets another." As if Marcus Tullius dared less! Though him I pass over; for I think there is no dispute. But Demosthenes himself, that standard and rule of the orator — does he hold and check himself when he says those most famous things: "men foul, and flatterers, and fiends"; and again, "I did not wall the city with stones, nor I with bricks"; and at once, "did I not throw Euboea forward, out of the sea, before Attica"; and elsewhere: "But I think, men of Athens — yes, by the gods — that he is drunk with the greatness of his deeds"?
’At enim alia condicio oratorum, alia poetarum. Quasi vero M. Tullius minus audeat! Quamquam hunc omitto; neque enim ambigi puto. Sed Demosthenes ipse, ille norma oratoris et regula, num se cohibet et comprimit, cum dicit illa notissima: ἄνθρωποι μιαροοὶ καὶ κόλακες καὶ ἀλάστορες et rursus οὐ λίθοις ἐτείχισα τὴν πόλιν οὐδὲ πλίνθοις ἐγω et statim οὐκ ἐκ μὲν θαλάττης τὴν εὔβοιαν προβαλέσθαι πρὸ τῆς Ἀττικῆς et alibi: ἐγὼ δὲ οἶμαι μέν, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, νὴ τοὺς θεοὺς ἐκεῖνον μεθύειν τῷ μεγέθει τῶν πεπραγμένων?
Then what is bolder than that most beautiful and longest digression: "for it is a disease"? What of these, briefer than the foregoing, but equal in daring: "then I, against Python, blustering and pouring in full flood against you"? Of the same stamp: "but when a man, like this one, has grown strong out of greed and villainy, the first pretext and a small stumble overthrows and dissolves it all." Like these: "fenced off from all the rights in the city"; and in the same place: "You have betrayed the pity owed to these things, Aristogeiton — nay, you have abolished it utterly. Do not, then, seek anchorage in the harbors which you yourself have silted up and choked with barriers." And he had said: "For him I see none of these places passable, but all of them sheer — ravines, abysses." And next: "I fear you may seem to some to be drilling the man who is forever bent on being wicked among the citizens"; and, not content with that: "for I do not suppose that our ancestors built these courts for you so that you might rear such men up in them"; and to this: "but if he is a huckster of wickedness, and a retailer, and a trafficker" — and a thousand such things, to pass over those which Aeschines calls "marvels," not "words."
Iam quid audentius illo pulcherrimo ac longissimo excessu: νόσημα γάρ? Quid haec breviora superioribus, sed audacia paria: τότε ἐγὼ μὲν τῷ πύθωνι θρασυνομένῳ καὶ πολλῷ ῥέοντι καθʼ ὑμῶν? Ex eadem nota ὅταν δὲ ἐκ πλεονεξίας καὶ πονηρίας τις ὥσπερ οὗτος ἰσχύσῂ, ἡ πρώτη πρόφασις καὶ μικρὸν πταῖσμα ἅπαντα ἀνεχαίτισε καὶ διέλυσε. Simile his ἀπεσχοινισμένος ἅπασι τοῖς ἐν τῇ πόλει δικαίοις et ibidem σὺ τὸν εἰς ταῦτα ἔλεον προδέδωκας, Ἀριστόγειτον, μᾶλλον δʼ ἀνῄρηκας ὅλως. μὴ δή, πρὸς οὓς αὐτὸς ἔχωσας λιμένας καὶ προβόλων ἐνέπλησας, πρὸς τούτους ὁρμίζου. Et dixerat: τούτῳ δʼ οὐδένα ὁρῶ τ͂ν τόπων τούτων βάσιμον ὄντα, ἀλλὰ πάντα ἀπόκρημνα, φάραγγας, βάραθρα. Et deinceps δέδοικα, μὴ δόξητέ τισι τὸν ἀεὶ βουλόμενον εἶναι πονηρὸν τῶν ἐν τῇ πόλει ποιδοτριβεῖν, nec satis: οὐδὲ γὰρ τοὺς προγόνους ὑπολαμβάνω τὰ δικαστήρια ταῦτα ὑμῖν οἰκοδομῆσαι, ἵνα τοὺς τοιούτους ἐν αὐτοῖς μοσχεύητε, ad hoc: εἰ δὲ κάπηλός ἐστι πονηρίας καὶ παλιγκάπηλος καὶ μεταβολεύς et mille talia, ut praeteream quae ab Aeschine θαύματα, non ῥήματα vocantur.
I have fallen into the contrary: you will say that he too is blamed for these things. But see how much greater the man who is reprehended is than the one reprehending — and greater on account of these very things; for in other passages his force shines out, in these his grandeur.
In contrarium incidi: dices hunc quoque ob ista culpari. Sed vide, quanto maior sit, qui reprehenditur, ipso reprehendente et maior ob haec quoque; in aliis enim vis, in his granditas eius elucet.
But did Aeschines himself abstain from those things he carped at in Demosthenes? "For the orator and the law ought to speak with the same voice; but when the law sends forth one voice and the orator another..." In another place: "then he is revealed, on every point, in the decree." Again elsewhere: "but seated in ambush and lying in wait during the hearing, you drive him on into unlawful speeches."
Num autem Aeschines ipse eis, quae in Demosthene carpebat, abstinuit? χρὴ γὰρ τὸ αὐτὸ φθέγγεσθαι τὸν ῥήτορα καὶ τὸν νόμον; ὅταν δὲ ἑτέραν μὲν φωνὴν ἀφιῇ ὁ νόμος, ἑτέραν δὲ ὁ ῥήτωρ. Alio loco: ἔπειτα ἀναφαίνεται περὶ πάντων ἐν τῷ ψηφίσματι Iterum alio: ἀλλʼ ἐγκαθήμενοι καὶ ἐνεδρεύοντες ἐν τῇ ἀκροάσει εἰσελαύνετε αὐτὸν εἰς τοὺς παρανόμους λόγους.
Which he so approved that he repeats it: "but, as in the horse-races, you drive him into the very course of the matter." And then those phrases, more guarded and more compressed: "but you reopen the wound..."; "or, seizing him as a brigand of public affairs, sailing through the commonwealth?"
Quod adeo probavit, ut repetat: ἀλλʼ ὥσπερ ἐν ταῖς ἱπποδρομίαις ἐς τὸν τοῦ πράγματος αὐτὸν δρόμον εἰσελαύνετε. Iam illa custoditius pressiusque: σὺ δὲ ἑλκοποιεῖς... ἢ συλλαβόντες ὡς λῃστὴν τῶν πραγμάτων διὰ τῆς πολιτείας πλέοντα;
I expect that you will stab certain things in this letter — like that "the rudders groan" and "next to the gods of the sea" — with the same marks as those I am writing about; for I understand that, while begging pardon for the earlier passages, I have fallen into the very things you had noted. But you may stab away, provided that here and now you fix a day on which we can settle, face to face, both about those and about these. For either you will make me timid, or I will make you reckless. Farewell.
Exspecto, ut quaedam ex hac epistula ut illud ’gubernacula gemunt’ et ’dis maris proximus’ isdem notis quibus ea, de quibus scribo, confodias; intellego enim me, dum veniam prioribus peto, in illa ipsa quae adnotaveras incidisse. Sed confodias licet, dum modo iam nunc destines diem, quo et de illis et de his coram exigere possimus. Aut enim tu me timidum aut ego te temerarium faciam. Vale.
How great is the power, how great the dignity, how great the majesty, how great in fine the divinity of history, I have felt often at other times, and lately most of all. A certain man had recited a most truthful book, and had kept back a part of it for another day.
Quanta potestas, quanta dignitas, quanta maiestas, quantum denique numen sit historiae, cum frequenter alias tum proxime sensi. Recitaverat quidam verissimum librum, partemque eius in alium diem reservaverat.
And lo, the friends of a certain man, begging and beseeching that he not recite the rest. So great is the shame of hearing what they have done, in men who had no shame in doing what they blush to hear. And he indeed granted what was asked — good faith allowed it; yet the book, like the deed itself, remains, will remain, and will be read forever — all the more because not at once. For men are roused to learn what is put off. Farewell.
Ecce amici cuiusdam orantes obsecrantesque, ne reliqua recitaret. Tantus audiendi quae fecerint pudor, quibus nullus faciendi quae audire erubescunt. Et ille quidem praestitit quod rogabatur - sinebat fides -; liber tamen ut factum ipsum manet manebit legeturque semper, tanto magis quia non statim. Incitantur enim homines ad noscenda quae differuntur. Vale.
After a long time I have received your letters — but three at once, all most elegant, most affectionate, and just such as ought to come from you, especially when they have been longed for. In one of them you lay upon me a most delightful service: that your letter be carried to Plotina, that most saintly woman; it shall be carried.
Post longum tempus epistulas tuas, sed tres pariter recepi, omnes elegantissimas amantissimas, et quales a te venire praesertim desideratas oportebat. Quarum una iniungis mihi iucundissimum ministerium, ut ad Plotinam sanctissimam feminam litterae tuae perferantur: perferentur.
In the same you commend Popilius Artemisius to me: I did at once what he asked. You signify, too, that you have gathered only a modest vintage: this complaint I share with you, though we are in the most widely separated parts of the world.
Eadem commendas Popilium Artemisium: statim praestiti quod petebat. Indicas etiam modicas te vindemias collegisse: communis haec mihi tecum, quamquam in diversissima parte terrarum, querela est.
In the second letter you announce that you now dictate, now write, much by which you make me present to yourself. I give you thanks; I would give more, had you been willing to let me read those very things you write or dictate. And it would be only fair that, as you know my writings, so I should know yours, even if they concerned someone other than me.
Altera epistula nuntias multa te nunc dictare nunc scribere, quibus nos tibi repraesentes. Gratias ago; agerem magis si me illa ipsa, quae scribis aut dictas, legere voluisses. Et erat aequum ut te mea ita me tua scripta cognoscere, etiamsi ad alium quam ad me pertinerent.
You promise at the end that, when you have heard something more certain about the ordering of my life, you will become a runaway from your household affairs and fly off to me at once — to me, who am already weaving fetters for you that you can by no means break through.
Polliceris in fine, cum certius de vitae nostrae ordinatione aliquid audieris, futurum te fugitivum rei familiaris statimque ad nos evolaturum, qui iam tibi compedes nectimus, quas perfringere nullo modo possis.
The third letter contained that my speech for Clarius had been delivered to you, and had seemed fuller than it was when I spoke it and you heard it. It is fuller; for I inserted much afterward. You add that you sent another letter, written with more care; you ask whether I received it. I did not, and I am eager to receive it. So at the first opportunity send it — with interest added, which I will reckon (can I be more sparing?) at the full one per cent a month. Farewell.
Tertia epistula continebat esse tibi redditam orationem pro Clario eamque visam uberiorem, quam dicente me audiente te fuerit. Est uberior; multa enim postea inserui. Adicis alias te litteras curiosius scriptas misisse; an acceperim quaeris. Non accepi et accipere gestio. Proinde prima quaque occasione mitte appositis quidem usuris, quas ego - num parcius possum? - centesimas computabo. Vale.
As it is better to do some one thing outstandingly than many things middlingly, so it is better to do very many middlingly, if you cannot do some one thing outstandingly. With an eye to this, I try myself in various kinds of study, trusting myself sufficiently in none.
Ut satius unum aliquid insigniter facere quam plura mediocriter, ita plurima mediocriter, si non possis unum aliquid insigniter. Quod intuens ego variis me studiorum generibus nulli satis confisus experior.
Accordingly, when you read this thing or that, you will grant indulgence to the single pieces as though they were not single. Or, while in the other arts there is excuse in number, is the law harder for letters, in which the achievement is more difficult? But why do I speak of indulgence, as though ungrateful? For if you receive these latest with the same readiness as the earlier, praise is rather to be hoped for than indulgence to be implored. Yet for me indulgence is enough. Farewell.
Proinde, cum hoc vel illud leges, ita singulis veniam ut non singulis dabis. An ceteris artibus excusatio in numero, litteris durior lex, in quibus difficilior effectus est? Quid autem ego de venia quasi ingratus? Nam si ea facilitate proxima acceperis qua priora, laus potius speranda quam venia obsecranda est. Mihi tamen venia sufficit. Vale.
You praise to me — often in person and now by letter — your friend Nonius, because he is generous toward certain people: and I praise him too, provided it is not toward these alone. For I want the man who is truly generous to give to his country, his kinsmen, his connections, his friends — but friends, I mean, who are poor, not as those men do who give above all to those who are most able to give in return.
Laudas mihi et frequenter praesens et nunc per epistulas Nonium tuum, quod sit liberalis in quosdam: et ipse laudo, si tamen non in hos solos. Volo enim eum, qui sit vere liberalis, tribuere patriae propinquis, affinibus amicis, sed amicis dico pauperibus, non ut isti qui iis potissimum donant, qui donare maxime possunt.
These men, with their limed and hooked gifts, I think not to be giving out what is their own but snatching what is another’s. There are men of a like disposition who take from this one what they give to that one, and seek a name for generosity out of greed.
Hos ego viscatis hamatisque muneribus non sua promere puto sed aliena corripere. Sunt ingenio simili qui quod huic donant auferunt illi, famamque liberalitatis avaritia petunt.
But the first thing is to be content with one’s own; the next, to go round in a certain circle of fellowship, supporting and cherishing those whom you know to be especially in need. If your man does all this, he is to be praised on every count; if some one thing only, less, indeed, yet praised still:
Primum est autem suo esse contentum, deinde, quos praecipue scias indigere, sustentantem foventemque orbe quodam socialitatis ambire. Quae cuncta si facit iste, usquequaque laudandus est; si unum aliquid, minus quidem, laudandus tamen:
so rare a thing is even a specimen of imperfect generosity. Such a lust of having has invaded men that they seem to be possessed rather than to possess. Farewell.
tam rarum est etiam imperfectae liberalitatis exemplar. Ea invasit homines habendi cupido, ut possideri magis quam possidere videantur. Vale.
Since I parted from you, I have been no less with you than when I was at your side. For I have read your book, going back again and again, especially over those passages — I will not lie — that you wrote about me, in which indeed you were most copious. How many things, how varied, how not the same about the same subject — and yet not different — you said!
Postquam a te recessi, non minus tecum, quam cum ad te fui. Legi enim librum tuum identidem repetens ea maxime - non enim mentiar -, quae de me scripsisti, in quibus quidem percopiosus fuisti. Quam multa, quam varia, quam non eadem de eodem nec tamen diversa dixisti!
Shall I praise and give thanks alike? Neither can I do enough; and, if I could, I should fear it were arrogant to praise on the same grounds for which I give thanks. This one thing I will add: that all of it seemed to me the more praiseworthy the more delightful it was, and the more delightful the more praiseworthy. Farewell.
Laudem pariter et gratias agam? Neutrum satis possum et, si possem, timerem ne arrogans esset ob ea laudare, ob quae gratias agerem. Unum illud addam, omnia mihi tanto laudabiliora visa quanto iucundiora, tanto iucundiora quanto laudabiliora erant. Vale.
What are you doing, what are you going to do? I myself am living a most delightful life — that is, a most leisured one. Hence it comes that I am unwilling to write longer letters, but willing to read them — the one as a man of luxury, the other as a man of leisure. For nothing is either lazier than the luxurious or more curious than the idle. Farewell.
Quid agis, quid acturus es? Ipse vitam iucundissimam - id est, otiosissimam - vivo. Quo fit, ut scribere longiores epistulas nolim, velim legere, illud tamquam delicatus, hoc tamquam otiosus. Nihil est enim aut pigrius delicatis aut curiosius otiosis. Vale.
I have lighted upon a matter true, but most like a fiction, and worthy of that most cheerful, most lofty, and plainly poetic genius of yours; I lighted upon it while, over dinner, various marvels were being recounted from this side and that. Great is the credit of my authority — though what has a poet to do with credit? Yet such is my authority that you would have trusted him even if you were about to write history.
Incidi in materiam veram sed simillimam fictae, dignamque isto laetissimo altissimo planeque poetico ingenio; incidi autem, dum super cenam varia miracula hinc inde referuntur. Magna auctori fides: tametsi quid poetae cum fide? Is tamen auctor, cui bene vel historiam scripturus credidisses.
There is in Africa the colony of Hippo, close to the sea. Beside it lies a navigable lagoon; out of this a channel issues in the manner of a river, which by turns, according as the tide has held it back or driven it on, is now carried into the sea, now given back to the lagoon.
Est in Africa Hipponensis colonia mari proxima. Adiacet navigabile stagnum; ex hoc in modum fluminis aestuarium emergit, quod vice alterna, prout aestus aut repressit aut impulit, nunc infertur mari, nunc redditur stagno.
Here every age is gripped by a passion for fishing, for boating, and for swimming too — most of all the boys, whom leisure and play allure. For them it is glory and prowess to be carried out the farthest: the victor is he who has left the shore, and his fellow-swimmers with it, the farthest behind.
Omnis hic aetas piscandi navigandi atque etiam natandi studio tenetur, maxime pueri, quos otium lususque sollicitat. His gloria et virtus altissime provehi: victor ille, qui longissime ut litus ita simul natantes reliquit.
In this contest a certain boy, bolder than the rest, was making for the farther waters. A dolphin met him, and now went before the boy, now followed, now circled round him, and at last dove under him, set him down, dove under again, and carried him, terrified, first out to the deep; then it turns toward the shore, and gives him back to the land and to his companions.
Hoc certamine puer quidam audentior ceteris in ulteriora tendebat. Delphinus occurrit, et nunc praecedere puerum nunc sequi nunc circumire, postremo subire deponere iterum subire, trepidantemque perferre primum in altum, mox flectit ad litus, redditque terrae et aequalibus.
The report creeps through the colony; all run together, gaze on the boy himself as on a marvel, question him, listen, retell. The next day they beset the shore, they watch the sea and whatever is like the sea. The boys swim, and among them that one, but more warily. The dolphin again, at the same hour, again makes for the boy. He flees with the rest. The dolphin, as if it would invite and call him back, leaps up, dives down, and winds and unwinds itself in various circles.
Serpit per coloniam fama; concurrere omnes, ipsum puerum tamquam miraculum aspicere, interrogare audire narrare. Postero die obsident litus, prospectant mare et si quid est mari simile. Natant pueri, inter hos ille, sed cautius. Delphinus rursus ad tempus, rursus ad puerum. Fugit ille cum ceteris. Delphinus, quasi invitet et revocet, exsilit mergitur, variosque orbes implicat expeditque.
So on the second day, so on the third, so on more, until shame at their fear came over men bred up by the sea. They draw near, and play with it, and call to it, and even touch and stroke it as it offers itself. Boldness grows with trial. The boy above all, who was the first to make the trial, swims up to it as it swims, leaps onto its back, is carried out and back; he thinks himself recognized, himself loved, and loves in turn; neither fears, neither is feared; the confidence of the one, the tameness of the other, grows.
Hoc altero die, hoc tertio, hoc pluribus, donec homines innutritos mari subiret timendi pudor. Accedunt et alludunt et appellant, tangunt etiam pertrectantque praebentem. Crescit audacia experimento. Maxime puer, qui primus expertus est, adnatat nanti, insilit tergo, fertur referturque, agnosci se amari putat, amat ipse; neuter timet, neuter timetur; huius fiducia, mansuetudo illius augetur.
And the other boys too go alongside, on the right and the left, urging and warning. There went along with them — this too a marvel — another dolphin, but only as an onlooker and companion. For it neither did nor suffered anything of the kind, but led the first one out and back, as the other boys did the boy.
Nec non alii pueri dextra laevaque simul eunt hortantes monentesque. Ibat una - id quoque mirum - delphinus alius, tantum spectator et comes. Nihil enim simile aut faciebat aut patiebatur, sed alterum illum ducebat reducebat, ut puerum ceteri pueri.
Incredible — yet as true as what went before — that the dolphin, the bearer and playfellow of the boys, was wont to be drawn even onto the land, and, dried on the sands, when it had grown hot, to roll itself back into the sea.
Incredibile, tam verum tamen quam priora, delphinum gestatorem collusoremque puerorum in terram quoque extrahi solitum, harenisque siccatum, ubi incaluisset in mare revolvi.
It is well established that Octavius Avitus, the proconsul’s legate, poured perfume over it, where it had been drawn up on the shore, out of a perverse piety; and that, from the strangeness and the scent of this, it fled away into the deep, and was not seen again until after many days, drooping and downcast — and then, its strength restored, took up again its former frolic and its accustomed services.
Constat Octavium Avitum, legatum proconsulis, in litus educto religione prava superfudisse unguentum, cuius illum novitatem odoremque in altum refugisse, nec nisi post multos dies visum languidum et maestum, mox redditis viribus priorem lasciviam et solita ministeria repetisse.
All the magistrates flowed together to the spectacle, by whose coming and lingering the modest commonwealth was being worn away with fresh expenses. At last the place itself was losing its quiet and its seclusion: it was resolved that the thing they gathered to see should be secretly put to death.
Confluebant omnes ad spectaculum magistratus, quorum adventu et mora modica res publica novis sumptibus atterebatur. Postremo locus ipse quietem suam secretumque perdebat: placuit occulte interfici, ad quod coibatur.
With what compassion, with what abundance you will bewail, adorn, and exalt all this! And yet there is no need for you to invent anything or add to it; it is enough that the things which are true be not diminished. Farewell.
Haec tu qua miseratione, qua copia deflebis ornabis attolles! Quamquam non est opus affingas aliquid aut astruas; sufficit ne ea quae sunt vera minuantur. Vale.
Resolve my quandary: I hear that I read badly — verses at any rate; for prose tolerably, but verses so much the worse. I am thinking, therefore, since I am about to recite to my intimate friends, of trying out my freedman. This too is a friendly thing, that I have chosen one who will read not well but better — I know — provided only he is not flustered.
Explica aestum meum: audio me male legere, dumtaxat versus; rationes enim commode, sed tanto minus versus. Cogito ergo recitaturus familiaribus amicis experiri libertum meum. Hoc quoque familiare, quod elegi non bene sed melius - scio - lecturum, si tamen non fuerit perturbatus.
For he is as new a reader as I am a poet. I myself do not know what to do, meanwhile, while he reads — whether to sit fixed and mute and like a man at his ease, or, as some do, to follow what he pronounces with a murmur, with my eyes, with my hand. But I think I dance no less badly than I read. Again I say, resolve my quandary, and write back truly whether it is better to read very badly than either not to do these things at all, or to do them. Farewell.
Est enim tam novus lector quam ego poeta. Ipse nescio, quid illo legente interim faciam, sedeam defixus et mutus et similis otioso an, ut quidam, quae pronuntiabit, murmure oculis manu prosequar. Sed puto me non minus male saltare quam legere. Iterum dicam, explica aestum meum vereque rescribe, num sit melius pessime legere quam ista vel non facere vel facere. Vale.
The book you sent I have received, and I give you thanks. Yet at this time I am most fully occupied. For that reason I have not yet read it, though otherwise I most strongly desire to. But I owe such reverence both to literature itself and to your writings that I should think it irreligious to take them up except with a mind at leisure.
Librum, quem misisti, recepi et gratias ago. Sum tamen hoc tempore occupatissimus. Ideo nondum eum legi, cum alioqui valdissime cupiam. Sed eam reverentiam cum litteris ipsis tum scriptis tuis debeo, ut sumere illa nisi vacuo animo irreligiosum putem.
Your diligence in revising your works I strongly approve. Yet there is some measure to it — first because excessive care wears a thing down rather than corrects it, and next because it calls us back from the more recent and at the same time neither finishes the earlier nor allows us to begin the later. Farewell.
Diligentiam tuam in retractandis operibus valde probo. Est tamen aliquis modus, primum quod nimia cura deterit magis quam emendat, deinde quod nos a recentioribus revocat simulque nec absolvit priora et incohare posteriora non patitur. Vale.
You ask how I lay out my day, in summer, on my Tuscan estate. I wake when I please, mostly about the first hour, often before, rarely later. The windows stay shut; for, wondrously withdrawn by silence and darkness from the things that distract, and free, and left to myself, I follow not my eyes with my mind but my mind with my eyes — which see the same things the mind sees, whenever they do not see other things.
Quaeris, quemadmodum in Tuscis diem aestate disponam. Evigilo cum libuit, plerumque circa horam primam, saepe ante, tardius raro. Clausae fenestrae manent; mire enim silentio et tenebris ab iis quae avocant abductus et liber et mihi relictus, non oculos animo sed animum oculis sequor, qui eadem quae mens vident, quotiens non vident alia.
I think, if I have anything in hand — I think it out word for word, like a man writing and correcting, now less, now more, according as it could be composed and held in mind with difficulty or with ease. I call my secretary, and, the daylight let in, I dictate what I had shaped; he goes off, and is called back again, and dismissed again.
Cogito, si quid in manibus, cogito ad verbum scribenti emendantique similis, nunc pauciora nunc plura, ut vel difficile vel facile componi tenerive potuerunt. Notarium voco et die admisso quae formaveram dicto; abit rursusque revocatur rursusque dimittitur.
When it is the fourth or fifth hour — for the time is not fixed and measured out — as the day has counseled, I betake myself to the terrace or the covered walk, think out the rest, and dictate it. I get into my carriage. There too the same as when walking or lying down; my concentration lasts, refreshed by the very change. I sleep again a little, then walk, then read aloud a speech, Greek or Latin, clearly and intently — not so much for the voice’s sake as for the stomach’s; yet the voice too is strengthened thereby.
Ubi hora quarta vel quinta - neque enim certum dimensumque tempus -, ut dies suasit, in xystum me vel cryptoporticum confero, reliqua meditor et dicto. Vehiculum ascendo. Ibi quoque idem quod ambulans aut iacens; durat intentio mutatione ipsa refecta. Paulum redormio, dein ambulo, mox orationem Graecam Latinamve clare et intente non tam vocis causa quam stomachi lego; pariter tamen et illa firmatur.
I walk again, am anointed, take exercise, bathe. As I dine, if with my wife or a few friends, a book is read; after dinner, a comedy or a lyre-player; then I walk with my household, among whom are men of learning. So with various conversations the evening is drawn out, and, long as the day is, it is well brought to its close.
Iterum ambulo ungor exerceor lavor. Cenanti mihi, si cum uxore vel paucis, liber legitur; post cenam comoedia aut lyristes; mox cum meis ambulo, quorum in numero sunt eruditi. Ita variis sermonibus vespera extenditur, et quamquam longissimus dies bene conditur.
Now and then some things are changed from this order; for if I have lain or walked a long while, after my sleep at last and my reading I am borne not in the carriage but on horseback, which is shorter because quicker. Friends come in from the nearby towns and draw a part of the day to themselves, and now and then, when I am weary, come to my aid with a timely interruption.
Non numquam ex hoc ordine aliqua mutantur; nam, si diu iacui vel ambulavi, post somnum demum lectionemque non vehiculo sed, quod brevius quia velocius, equo gestor. Interveniunt amici ex proximis oppidis, partemque diei ad se trahunt interdumque lasso mihi opportuna interpellatione subveniunt.
I hunt sometimes, but not without my writing-tablets, so that even if I have taken nothing I may bring back something. Some time too is given to my tenants — not enough, as they think — whose rustic complaints make my literature and these civilized labors dear to me. Farewell.
Venor aliquando, sed non sine pugillaribus, ut quamvis nihil ceperim non nihil referam. Datur et colonis, ut videtur ipsis, non satis temporis, quorum mihi agrestes querelae litteras nostras et haec urbana opera commendant. Vale.
It is not in your nature to exact these conventional and, so to speak, public observances from intimate friends against their own convenience; and I love you too steadfastly to fear you will take it otherwise than I would wish, if I do not see you become consul on the very Kalends — especially since the necessity of leasing out my estates, a matter that will set the order of several years, detains me, and in it I must take new counsels.
Nec tuae naturae est translaticia haec et quasi publica officia a familiaribus amicis contra ipsorum commodum exigere, et ego te constantius amo quam ut verear, ne aliter ac velim accipias, nisi te Kalendis statim consulem videro, praesertim cum me necessitas locandorum praediorum plures annos ordinatura detineat, in qua mihi nova consilia sumenda sunt.
For in the last five-year term, although after great remissions, the arrears have grown: hence most of the tenants have no care now to lessen their debt, which they despair of being able to pay off; they even seize and consume what is produced, like men who now think they are not sparing it for themselves.
Nam priore lustro, quamquam post magnas remissiones, reliqua creverunt: inde plerisque nulla iam cura minuendi aeris alieni, quod desperant posse persolvi; rapiunt etiam consumuntque quod natum est, ut qui iam putent se non sibi parcere.
The growing evils, then, must be met and remedied. There is one way of remedy: if I let the land not for money but for a share, and then set some of my own people as overseers of the work, as guardians over the produce. And in any case there is no juster kind of return than what the earth, the sky, and the season render back.
Occurrendum ergo augescentibus vitiis et medendum est. Medendi una ratio, si non nummo sed partibus locem ac deinde ex meis aliquos operis exactores, custodes fructibus ponam. Et alioqui nullum iustius genus reditus, quam quod terra caelum annus refert.
But this demands great honesty, keen eyes, many hands. Yet it must be tried, and, as in an old disease, any aids of change whatever must be attempted.
At hoc magnam fidem acres oculos numerosas manus poscit. Experiundum tamen et quasi in veteri morbo quaelibet mutationis auxilia temptanda sunt.
You see by what no luxurious cause I am kept from attending the first day of your consulship; yet here too, as though present, I will keep it with prayers, with joy, with congratulation. Farewell.
Vides, quam non delicata me causa obire primum consulatus tui diem non sinat; quem tamen hic quoque ut praesens votis gaudio gratulatione celebrabo. Vale.
I do indeed praise our friend Rufus, not because you asked me to do so, but because he is most worthy of it. For I have read a book finished in every detail, to which his own affection for me added much favor in my eyes. Yet I judged it; for it is not only those who read malignly who judge. Farewell.
Ego vero Rufum nostrum laudo, non quia tu ut ita facerem petisti sed quia est ille dignissimus. Legi enim librum omnibus numeris absolutum, cui multum apud me gratiae amor ipsius adiecit. Iudicavi tamen; neque enim soli iudicant qui maligne legunt. Vale.
On the warning of the soothsayers, I must rebuild — better and larger — the temple of Ceres on my estates, which is old, to be sure, and cramped, though otherwise, on its fixed day, most crowded.
Haruspicum monitu reficienda est mihi aedes Cereris in praediis in melius et in maius, vetus sane et angusta, cum sit alioqui stato die frequentissima.
For on the Ides of September a great throng gathers from the whole region; much business is done, many vows are undertaken, many discharged; but there is no shelter near at hand against either rain or sun.
Nam Idibus Septembribus magnus e regione tota coit populus, multae res aguntur, multa vota suscipiuntur, multa redduntur; sed nullum in proximo suffugium aut imbris aut solis.
I think, then, I shall be acting both munificently and devoutly, if I build a temple as beautiful as may be, and add porticoes to the temple — the one for the use of the goddess, these for the use of men.
Videor ergo munifice simul religioseque facturus, si aedem quam pulcherrimam exstruero, addidero porticus aedi, illam ad usum deae has ad hominum.
I should like you, then, to buy four marble columns, of whatever kind shall seem good to you; to buy marbles for adorning the floor and the walls. A statue of the goddess herself, too, will have to be made, because that old one of wood is, in certain of its parts, broken off by age.
Velim ergo emas quattuor marmoreas columnas, cuius tibi videbitur generis, emas marmora quibus solum, quibus parietes excolantur. Erit etiam faciendum ipsius deae signum, quia antiquum illud e ligno quibusdam sui partibus vetustate truncatum est.
As for the porticoes, nothing for the moment occurs to me that seems worth requisitioning from your part of the world — except that you draw up a plan to suit the lie of the place. For the porticoes cannot be set all around the temple: the temple’s ground is girt on the one side by a river and most precipitous banks, on the other by a road.
Quantum ad porticus, nihil interim occurrit, quod videatur istinc esse repetendum, nisi tamen ut formam secundum rationem loci scribas. Neque enim possunt circumdari templa: nam solum templi hinc flumine et abruptissimis ripis, hinc via cingitur.
Beyond the road there is a very wide meadow, in which, fittingly enough, the porticoes will be laid out facing the temple itself — unless you find something better, you who are wont to overcome by art the difficulties of a site. Farewell.
Est ultra viam latissimum pratum, in quo satis apte contra templum ipsum porticus explicabuntur; nisi quid tu melius invenies, qui soles locorum difficultates arte superare. Vale.
You write that my letter was most welcome to you, by which you learned how I spend the leisure of summer on my Tuscan estate; you ask what I change from this on my Laurentine estate in winter.
Scribis pergratas tibi fuisse litteras meas, quibus cognovisti quemadmodum in Tuscis otium aestatis exigerem; requiris quid ex hoc in Laurentino hieme permutem.
Nothing, except that the midday sleep is dropped, and much is taken from the night, either before the day or after it; and, if the necessity of pleading presses — which is frequent in winter — there is no longer, after dinner, room for a comic actor or a lyre-player, but those things I have dictated are gone over again and again, and at the same time the memory profits by frequent correction.
Nihil, nisi quod meridianus somnus eximitur multumque de nocte vel ante vel post diem sumitur, et, si agendi necessitas instat, quae frequens hieme, non iam comoedo vel lyristae post cenam locus, sed illa, quae dictavi, identidem retractantur, ac simul memoriae frequenti emendatione proficitur.
There you have my custom in summer and in winter; you may add to it spring and autumn too, which, midway between winter and summer, lose nothing of the day, and gain a very little of the night. Farewell.
Habes aestate hieme consuetudinem; addas huc licet ver et autumnum, quae inter hiemem aestatemque media, ut nihil de die perdunt, de nocte parvolum acquirunt. Vale.
Your devotion, most holy Emperor, had wished that you might succeed your father as late as possible; but the immortal gods made haste to bring your virtues to the helm of the commonwealth, which you had taken up.
Tua quidem pietas, imperator sanctissime, optaverat, ut quam tardissime succederes patri; sed di immortales festinaverunt virtutes tuas ad gubernacula rei publicae quam susceperas admovere.
I pray, therefore, that all things may go prosperously for you, and through you for the human race — that is, things worthy of your age. Strong and cheerful, best of emperors, I wish you, both in private and in public life.
Precor ergo ut tibi et per te generi humano prospera omnia, id est digna saeculo tuo contingant. Fortem te et hilarem, imperator optime, et privatim et publice opto.
I cannot express in words, lord, how great a joy you have brought me, in that you judged me worthy of the right of three children. For although you granted it to the prayers of Julius Servianus — an excellent man, most devoted to you — yet even from the rescript I understand that you bestowed it on him the more gladly because he was asking on my behalf.
Exprimere, domine, verbis non possum, quantum mihi gaudium attuleris, quod me dignum putasti iure trium liberorum. Quamvis enim Iuli Serviani, optimi viri tuique amantissimi, precibus indulseris, tamen etiam ex rescripto intellego libentius hoc ei te praestitisse, quia pro me rogabat.
I seem, then, to have attained the height of my prayer, since at the very outset of your most fortunate principate you have proved that I belong to your particular favor; and all the more do I long for children, whom I wished to have even in that most grievous age — as you may believe from my two marriages.
Videor ergo summam voti mei consecutus, cum inter initia felicissimi principatus tui probaveris me ad peculiarem indulgentiam tuam pertinere; eoque magis liberos concupisco, quos habere etiam illo tristissimo saeculo volui, sicut potes duobus matrimoniis meis credere.
But the gods judged better, who reserved all things whole for your goodness; I preferred to become a father rather at this present time, when I should be both secure and happy.
Sed di melius, qui omnia integra bonitati tuae reservarunt; malui hoc potius tempore me patrem fieri, quo futurus essem et securus et felix.
As soon as your indulgence, lord, advanced me to the prefecture of the treasury of Saturn, I renounced all advocacy — which in any case I had never practiced indiscriminately — that I might be free, with my whole mind, for the office delegated to me.
Ut primum me, domine, indulgentia vestra promovit ad praefecturam aerarii Saturni, omnibus advocationibus, quibus alioqui numquam eram promiscue functus, renuntiavi, ut toto animo delegato mihi officio vacarem.
For which reason, when the provincials had chosen me as their patron against Marius Priscus, I both sought exemption from this duty and obtained it. But when afterward the consul-designate moved that those of us whose excuse had been accepted should nonetheless be at the senate’s disposal, and should allow our names to be cast into the urn, I judged it most fitting to the tranquillity of your age — especially toward so moderate a wish of that most august order — not to resist.
Qua ex causa, cum patronum me provinciales optassent contra Marium Priscum, et petii veniam huius muneris et impetravi. Sed cum postea consul designatus censuisset agendum nobiscum, quorum erat excusatio recepta, ut essemus in senatus potestate pateremurque nomina nostra in urnam conici, convenientissimum esse tranquillitati saeculi tui putavi praesertim tam moderatae voluntati amplissimi ordinis non repugnare.
For this compliance of mine I pray that you may judge the reckoning to be sound, since I desire to have all my deeds and words approved by your most holy character.
Cui obsequio meo opto, ut existimes constare rationem, cum omnia facta dictaque mea probare sanctissimis moribus tuis cupiam.
You have played the part both of a good citizen and of a good senator, in rendering the obedience which the most august order most justly demanded. I trust that you will fulfill that part according to the faith you have undertaken.
Et civis et senatoris boni partibus functus es obsequium amplissimi ordinis quod iustissime exigebat, praestando. Quas partes impleturum te secundum susceptam fidem confido.
Your indulgence, best of emperors — which I experience to the fullest — encourages me to dare to put myself under obligation to you even on behalf of my friends; among whom Voconius Romanus claims for himself a place that is perhaps the foremost: my fellow-pupil and comrade from earliest youth.
Indulgentia tua, imperator optime, quam plenissimam experior, hortatur me, ut audeam tibi etiam pro amicis obligari; inter quos sibi vel praecipuum locum vindicat Voconius Romanus, ab ineunte aetate condiscipulus et contubernalis.
For which reasons I had petitioned your deified father, too, to promote him into the most august order. But this wish of mine was reserved for your goodness, because Romanus’s mother had not yet carried out, in sufficiently legal form, the liberality of four million sesterces which she had declared, in a codicil addressed to your father, that she would confer upon her son — a thing she has since done, on our advising her.
Quibus ex causis et a divo patre tuo petieram, ut illum in amplissimum ordinem promoveret. Sed hoc votum meum bonitati tuae reservatum est, quia mater Romani liberalitatem sestertii quadragies, quod conferre se filio codicillis ad patrem tuum scriptis professa fuerat, nondum satis legitime peregerat; quod postea fecit admonita a nobis.
For she has made over the estates, and has completed the other steps that are usually required in carrying through a conveyance.
Nam fundos emancipavit, et cetera quae in emancipatione implenda solent exigi consummavit.
Since, then, what was delaying our hopes has been finished, I pledge to you, not without great confidence, my own faith for the character of my friend Romanus — a character which liberal studies adorn and an exceptional devotion, the devotion that earned him this very liberality from his mother, and at once his father’s inheritance, and adoption by his stepfather.
Cum sit ergo finitum, quod spes nostras morabatur, non sine magna fiducia subsigno apud te fidem pro moribus Romani mei, quos et liberalia studia exornant et eximia pietas, quae hanc ipsam matris liberalitatem et statim patris hereditatem et adoptionem a vitrico meruit.
This is enhanced by the splendor both of his birth and of his paternal fortune; to each of which, I believe, much recommendation will accrue even from my prayers to your indulgence.
Auget haec et natalium et paternarum facultatium splendor; quibus singulis multum commendationis accessurum etiam ex meis precibus indulgentiae tuae credo.
I ask, then, lord, that you make me partaker of the congratulation I most long for, and grant to my honorable affections — as I hope they are — that I may glory in your judgments not only on my own account but in my friend’s as well.
Rogo ergo, domine, ut me exoptatissimae mihi gratulationis compotem facias et honestis, ut spero, affectibus meis praestes, ut non in me tantum verum et in amico gloriari iudiciis tuis possim.
Last year, lord, when I was harassed by a most grave illness, even to the peril of my life, I engaged a physician-trainer; to whose care and zeal I can render an equal gratitude only by the benefit of your indulgence.
Proximo anno, domine, gravissima valetudine usque ad periculum vitae vexatus iatralipten assumpsi; cuius sollicitudini et studio tuae tantum indulgentiae beneficio referre gratiam parem possum.
I ask, therefore, that you give him the Roman citizenship. For he is of foreign status, manumitted by a foreign woman. He himself is called Harpocras; his patroness was Thermuthis, daughter of Theon, who died long ago. Likewise I ask that you give the right of the Quirites to the freedwomen of Antonia Maximilla, a most distinguished woman — Hedia and Antonia Harmeris; this I ask at the request of their patroness.
Quare rogo des ei civitatem Romanam. Est enim peregrinae condicionis manumissus a peregrina. Vocatur ipse Arpocras, patronam habuit Thermuthin Theonis, quae iam pridem defuncta est. Item rogo des ius Quiritium libertis Antoniae Maximillae, ornatissimae feminae, Hediae et Antoniae Harmeridi; quod a te petente patrona peto.
I give thanks, lord, that you granted without delay both the right of the Quirites to the freedwomen of a woman connected with me, and the Roman citizenship to Harpocras, my physician-trainer. But when I was setting out his years and his property-rating, as you had directed, I was warned by those more expert that I ought first to have obtained for him the Alexandrian citizenship, and then the Roman, since he is an Egyptian.
Ago gratias, domine, quod et ius Quiritium libertis necessariae mihi feminae et civitatem Romanam Arpocrati, iatraliptae meo, sine mora indulsisti. Sed cum annos eius et censum sicut praeceperas ederem, admonitus sum a peritioribus debuisse me ante ei Alexandrinam civitatem impetrare, deinde Romanam, quoniam esset Aegyptius.
I, however, because I believed there was no difference between Egyptians and other foreigners, had been content to write you only this: that he had been manumitted by a foreign woman, and that his patroness had died long ago. Of this ignorance of mine I do not complain, since through it I came to be obliged to you more than once for the same man. I ask therefore that, so that I may lawfully enjoy your benefit, you grant him both the Alexandrian citizenship and the Roman. His years and his property-rating, lest anything should again delay your indulgence, I have sent to your freedmen whom you had appointed.
Ego autem, quia inter Aegyptios ceterosque peregrinos nihil interesse credebam, contentus fueram hoc solum scribere tibi, esse eum a peregrina manumissum patronamque eius iam pridem decessisse. De qua ignorantia mea non queror, per quam stetit ut tibi pro eodem homine saepius obligarer. Rogo itaque, ut beneficio tuo legitime frui possim, tribuas ei et Alexandrinam civitatem et Romanam. Annos eius et censum, ne quid rursus indulgentiam tuam moraretur, libertis tuis quibus iusseras misi.
I have made it my rule, following the practice of the emperors, not to grant the Alexandrian citizenship lightly. But since you have already obtained the Roman citizenship for Harpocras, your physician-trainer, I cannot bring myself to refuse this petition of yours as well. You will have to make known to me from what nome he comes, so that I may send you a letter to Pompeius Planta, prefect of Egypt, my friend.
Civitatem Alexandrinam secundum institutionem principum non temere dare proposui. Sed cum Arpocrati, iatraliptae tuo, iam civitatem Romanam impetraveris, huic quoque petitioni tuae negare non sustineo. Tu, ex quo nomo sit, notum mihi facere debebis, ut epistulam tibi ad Pompeium Plantam praefectum Aegypti amicum meum mittam.
When your deified father, lord, had exhorted all citizens to munificence — both by a most beautiful speech and by a most honorable example — I asked of him that he permit me to transfer into my municipality the statues of the emperors which, handed down to me through several successions on distant estates, I was keeping just as I had received them, with his own statue added.
Cum divus pater tuus, domine, et oratione pulcherrima et honestissimo exemplo omnes cives ad munificentiam esset cohortatus, petii ab eo, ut statuas principum, quas in longinquis agris per plures successiones traditas mihi quales acceperam custodiebam, permitteret in municipium transferre adiecta sua statua.
This indeed he granted me with the fullest commendation; I at once wrote to the decurions that they should assign a plot on which I might build a temple at my own expense, and they, in honor of the work itself, offered me the choice of the site.
Quod quidem ille mihi cum plenissimo testimonio indulserat; ego statim decurionibus scripseram, ut assignarent solum in quo templum pecunia mea exstruerem; illi in honorem operis ipsius electionem loci mihi obtulerant.
But detained first by my own ill health, then by your father’s, and afterward by the cares of the office you both delegated to me, I now seem able most conveniently to run down to the spot. For my month’s term of duty ends on the Kalends of September, and the following month has a good many holidays.
Sed primum mea, deinde patris tui valetudine, postea curis delegati a vobis officii retentus, nunc videor commodissime posse in rem praesentem excurrere. Nam et menstruum meum Kalendis Septembribus finitur, et sequens mensis complures dies feriatos habet.
I ask, then, before all else, that you permit me to adorn with your statue too the work I am about to begin; and next, so that I may do this as early as possible, that you grant me leave of absence.
Rogo ergo ante omnia permittas mihi opus quod incohaturus sum exornare et tua statua; deinde, ut hoc facere quam maturissime possim, indulgeas commeatum.
But it is not in keeping with my candor to disguise, before your goodness, that you will at the same time confer the greatest benefit on the interests of my own estate. For the leasing of the lands I possess in that same region — exceeding, in any case, four hundred thousand sesterces — can so little be deferred that the new tenant ought to do the next pruning. Besides, continual crop-failures compel me to think of remissions, the reckoning of which I cannot undertake unless I am present.
Non est autem simplicitatis meae dissimulare apud bonitatem tuam obiter te plurimum collaturum utilitatibus rei familiaris meae. Agrorum enim, quos in eadem regione possideo, locatio, cum alioqui CCCC excedat, adeo non potest differri, ut proximam putationem novus colonus facere debeat. Praeterea continuae sterilitates cogunt me de remissionibus cogitare; quarum rationem nisi praesens inire non possum.
I shall owe, then, lord, to your indulgence both the speed of my dutifulness and the ordering of my estate, if on account of both these things you give me thirty days’ leave. For I cannot fix a narrower span, since both the municipality and the lands of which I speak lie beyond the hundred-and-fiftieth milestone.
Debebo ergo, domine, indulgentiae tuae et pietatis meae celeritatem et status ordinationem, si mihi ob utraque haec dederis commeatum XXX dierum. Neque enim angustius tempus praefinire possum, cum et municipium et agri de quibus loquor sint ultra centesimum et quinquagesimum lapidem.
You have rendered both many reasons, and all of them public ones, for requesting leave; but for me your wish alone would have sufficed. For I do not doubt that you will return, as soon as you can, to so demanding an office. I allow a statue to be set up to me by you in the place you desire — though I am most sparing of honors of this kind — lest I should seem to have checked the course of your devotion toward me.
Et multas et omnes publicas causas petendi commeatus reddidisti; mihi autem vel sola voluntas tua suffecisset. Neque enim dubito te, ut primum potueris, ad tam districtum officium reversurum. Statuam poni mihi a te eo quo desideras loco, quamquam eius modi honorum parcissimus tamen patior, ne impedisse cursum erga me pietatis tuae videar.
I cannot express in words, lord, with how great a joy your letter has affected me, from which I learned that you have granted to Harpocras, my physician-trainer, the Alexandrian citizenship too — although, following the practice of the emperors, you had made it your rule not to grant it lightly. That Harpocras belongs to the Memphite nome, I hereby inform you.
Exprimere, domine, verbis non possum, quanto me gaudio affecerint epistulae tuae, ex quibus cognovi te Arpocrati, iatraliptae meo, et Alexandrinam civitatem tribuisse, quamvis secundum institutionem principum non temere eam dare proposuisses. Esse autem Arpocran νομοῦ μεμφίτου indico tibi.
I ask, then, most indulgent Emperor, that you send me, as you promised, a letter to Pompeius Planta, prefect of Egypt, your friend. As I intend to go out to meet you — so that I may the sooner, lord, enjoy the joy of your most longed-for arrival — I ask that you permit me to come to meet you as far off as may be.
Rogo ergo, indulgentissime imperator, ut mihi ad Pompeium Plantam praefectum Aegypti amicum tuum, sicut promisisti, epistulam mittas. Obviam iturus, quo maturius, domine, exoptatissimi adventus tui gaudio frui possim, rogo permittas mihi quam longissime occurrere tibi.
My recent infirmity, lord, put me under obligation to the physician Postumius Marinus; to whom I can render a like gratitude by your benefit, if you grant my prayers in accordance with your customary goodness.
Proxima infirmitas mea, domine, obligavit me Postumio Marino medico; cui parem gratiam referre beneficio tuo possum, si precibus meis ex consuetudine bonitatis tuae indulseris.
I ask, then, that you give citizenship to his kinsmen: to Chrysippus, son of Mithridates, and to Chrysippus’s wife, Stratonice, daughter of Epigonus; likewise to the children of the same Chrysippus, Epigonus and Mithridates — on condition that they be in their father’s power, and that the right of patrons over their freedmen be preserved for them. Likewise I ask that you grant the right of the Quirites to Lucius Satrius Abascantus, to Publius Caesius Phosphorus, and to Pancharia Soteris; this I ask with their patrons’ consent.
Rogo ergo, ut propinquis eius des civitatem, Chrysippo Mithridatis uxorique Chrysippi, Stratonicae Epigoni, item liberis eiusdem Chrysippi, Epigono et Mithridati, ita ut sint in patris potestate utque iis in libertos servetur ius patronorum. Item rogo indulgeas ius Quiritium L. Satrio Abascanto et P. Caesio Phosphoro et Panchariae Soteridi; quod a te volentibus patronis peto.
I know, lord, that our prayers cling to your memory, which is most tenacious of doing good. Yet, since you have indulged me in this matter too, I both remind you and earnestly ask that you deign to adorn Attius Sura with a praetorship, now that a place is vacant.
Scio, domine, memoriae tuae, quae est bene faciendi tenacissima, preces nostras inhaerere. Quia tamen in hoc quoque indulsisti, admoneo simul et impense rogo, ut Attium Suram praetura exornare digneris, cum locus vacet.
To this hope — though otherwise most retiring — he is urged on both by the splendor of his birth and by his utmost integrity in poverty, and above all by the felicity of the times, which summons forth and exalts the good conscience of your citizens to the enjoyment of your indulgence.
Ad quam spem alioqui quietissimum hortatur et natalium splendor et summa integritas in paupertate et ante omnia felicitas temporum, quae bonam conscientiam civium tuorum ad usum indulgentiae tuae provocat et attollit.
Since I know, lord, that it bears upon the testimony and praise of my character to be adorned by the judgment of so good a prince, I ask that you deign to add to the dignity to which your indulgence has advanced me either an augurship or a septemvirate, since they are vacant, so that by the right of the priesthood I may publicly pray to the gods for you, whom I now pray to with a private devotion.
Cum sciam, domine, ad testimonium laudemque morum meorum pertinere tam boni principis iudicio exornari, rogo dignitati, ad quam me provexit indulgentia tua, vel auguratum vel septemviratum, quia vacant adicere digneris, ut iure sacerdotii precari deos pro te publice possim, quos nunc precor pietate privata.
On your victory, best of emperors — greatest, fairest, most in the ancient style — I congratulate you, both in your own name and in the commonwealth’s, and I pray the immortal gods that as glad an outcome may follow all your designs, since, with such great virtues, the glory of the empire is both renewed and increased.
Victoriae tuae, optime imperator, maximae, pulcherrimae, antiquissimae et tuo nomine et rei publicae gratulor, deosque immortales precor, ut omnes cogitationes tuas tam laetus sequatur eventus, cum virtutibus tantis gloria imperii et novetur et augeatur.
Because I am confident, lord, that it concerns your care, I report to you that I have sailed to Ephesus with all my people, past Malea, though held back by contrary winds. Now I intend to make for the province partly by coasting vessels, partly by carriages. For as the oppressive heats hinder travel by road, so the Etesian winds hinder continuous sailing.
Quia confido, domine, ad curam tuam pertinere, nuntio tibi me Ephesum cum omnibus meis ὑπὲρ μαλέαν navigasse quamvis contrariis ventis retentum. Nunc destino partim orariis navibus, partim vehiculis provinciam petere. Nam sicut itineri graues aestus, ita continuae navigationi etesiae reluctantur.
You have reported rightly, my dear Secundus. For it does concern me by what route you reach the province. And you decide prudently to use now ships, now carriages, as the localities advise.
Recte renuntiasti, mi Secunde carissime. Pertinet enim ad animum meum, quali itinere provinciam pervenias. Prudenter autem constituis interim navibus, interim vehiculis uti, prout loca suaserint.
Just as I had a most healthful voyage, lord, as far as Ephesus, so from there, after I began to make my way by carriage, I was harassed by most oppressive heats and even slight fevers, and halted at Pergamum.
Sicut saluberrimam navigationem, domine, usque Ephesum expertus ita inde, postquam vehiculis iter facere coepi, gravissimis aestibus atque etiam febriculis vexatus Pergami substiti.
Again, when I had crossed over into coasting boats, held back by contrary winds, I entered Bithynia somewhat later than I had hoped — that is, on the fifteenth day before the Kalends of October. Yet I cannot complain of the delay, since it fell to me, which was most auspicious, to celebrate your birthday in the province.
Rursus, cum transissem in orarias nauculas, contrariis ventis retentus aliquanto tardius quam speraveram, id est XV Kal. Octobres, Bithyniam intravi. Non possum tamen de mora queri, cum mihi contigerit, quod erat auspicatissimum, natalem tuum in provincia celebrare.
Now I am examining the expenditures, the revenues, and the debtors of the Prusenses’ commonwealth; and from the handling itself I see this to be more and more necessary. For much money is held back by private persons on various pretexts, and besides, certain sums are paid out for expenditures that are anything but lawful.
Nunc rei publicae Prusensium impendia, reditus, debitores excutio; quod ex ipso tractatu magis ac magis necessarium intellego. Multae enim pecuniae variis ex causis a privatis detinentur; praeterea quaedam minime legitimis sumptibus erogantur.
These things, lord, I have written you at the very moment of my entry.
Haec tibi, domine, in ipso ingressu meo scripsi.
On the fifteenth before the Kalends of October, lord, I entered the province, which I found in that obedience, in that fidelity toward you, which you deserve of the human race.
Quinto decimo Kal. Octob., domine, provinciam intravi, quam in eo obsequio, in ea erga te fide, quam de genere humano mereris, inveni.
Consider, lord, whether you think it necessary to send a surveyor here. For it seems that no slight sums could be recovered from the overseers of public works, if the measurements were faithfully made. So at least I foresee from the accounts of the Prusenses, which I am at this very moment handling.
Dispice, domine, an necessarium putes mittere huc mensorem. Videntur enim non mediocres pecuniae posse revocari a curatoribus operum, si mensurae fideliter agantur. Ita certe prospicio ex ratione Prusensium, quam cum maxime tracto.
I could have wished that you had been able to reach Bithynia without any complaint of your frail health or your people’s, and that your journey from Ephesus had been like the voyage you had experienced up to that point.
Cuperem sine querela corpusculi tui et tuorum pervenire in Bithyniam potuisses, ac simile tibi iter ab Epheso ei navigationi fuisset, quam expertus usque illo eras.
On what day you reached Bithynia I learned, dearest Secundus, from your letter. The provincials, I believe, will understand that provision has been made for them by me. For you too will take pains that it be plain to them that you were chosen as the man to be sent to them in my place.
Quo autem die pervenisses in Bithyniam, cognovi, Secunde carissime, litteris tuis. Provinciales, credo, prospectum sibi a me intellegent. Nam et tu dabis operam, ut manifestum sit illis electum te esse, qui ad eosdem mei loco mittereris.
The accounts, moreover, of the communities must be examined by you first of all; for that they are in disorder is well enough established. Surveyors I have scarcely enough even for those works that are done at Rome or near it; but in every province men are found who can be trusted, and so they will not be lacking to you — provided only you are willing to search diligently.
Rationes autem in primis tibi rerum publicarum excutiendae sunt; nam et esse eas vexatas satis constat. Mensores vix etiam iis operibus, quae aut Romae aut in proximo fiunt, sufficientes habeo; sed in omni provincia inveniuntur, quibus credi possit, et ideo non deerunt tibi, modo velis diligenter excutere.
I ask, lord, that you guide me with counsel as I waver: whether I ought to keep the prison-guards by means of the public slaves of the communities — as has been done up to now — or by means of soldiers. For I fear both that by the public slaves they may be guarded too unfaithfully, and that this charge may tie up no small number of soldiers.
Rogo, domine, consilio me regas haesitantem, utrum per publicos civitatium servos, quod usque adhuc factum, an per milites asservare custodias debeam. Vereor enim, ne et per publicos parum fideliter custodiantur, et non exiguum militum numerum haec cura distringat.
Meanwhile I have added a few soldiers to the public slaves. Yet I see there is a danger that this very thing may be a cause of negligence to both, while they trust they can shift the common fault — these onto those, and those onto these.
Interim publicis servis paucos milites addidi. Video tamen periculum esse, ne id ipsum utrisque neglegentiae causa sit, dum communem culpam hi in illos, illi in hos regerere posse confidunt.
There is no need, my dear Secundus, that many fellow-soldiers be turned aside to keep the prisoners. Let us persevere in the custom that belongs to that province, of guarding them by public slaves.
Nihil opus sit, mi Secunde carissime, ad continendas custodias plures commilitones converti. Perseveremus in ea consuetudine quae isti provinciae est, ut per publicos servos custodiantur.
For whether they do this faithfully rests upon your strictness and diligence. For first of all, as you write, it is to be feared that, if soldiers are mixed with public slaves, they may grow the more negligent through mutual reliance on one another; but let this too stay fixed with us, that as few as possible are to be called away from the standards.
Etenim, ut fideliter hoc faciant, in tua severitate ac diligentia positum est. In primis enim, sicut scribis, verendum est, ne, si permisceantur servis publicis milites, mutua inter se fiducia neglegentiores sint; sed et illud haereat nobis, quam paucissimos a signis avocandos esse.
Gavius Bassus, prefect of the Pontic coast, came to me, lord, most respectfully and most dutifully, and was with me for several days — a man, so far as I could perceive, excellent and worthy of your indulgence. I made known to him that you had directed that he be content, out of the cohorts which you wished me to command, with ten beneficiarii, two cavalrymen, and one centurion.
Gavius Bassus praefectus orae Ponticae et reverentissime et officiosissime, domine, venit ad me et compluribus diebus fuit mecum, quantum perspicere potui, vir egregius et indulgentia tua dignus. Cui ego notum feci praecepisse te ut ex cohortibus, quibus me praeesse voluisti, contentus esset beneficiariis decem, equitibus duobus, centurione uno.
He replied that this number did not suffice him, and that he would write so to you. This was the reason that kept me from thinking that those he has beyond the number should be recalled at once.
Respondit non sufficere sibi hunc numerum, idque se scripturum tibi. Hoc in causa fuit, quominus statim revocandos putarem, quos habet supra numerum.
To me too Gavius Bassus has written that the number of soldiers does not suffice him — the number which I directed in my instructions should be given him. What I have written back to him, so that you might be informed, I have ordered appended to this letter. It makes a great difference whether the matter demands it, or he wishes to use them more broadly for the sake of his own consequence.
Et mihi scripsit Gavius Bassus non sufficere sibi eum militum numerum, qui ut daretur illi, mandatis meis complexus sum. Cui quae rescripsissem, ut notum haberes, his litteris subici iussi. Multum interest, res poscat an hoc nomine eis uti latius velit.
But for us only the public advantage is to be regarded, and, as far as may be, we must take care that soldiers are not absent from the standards.
Nobis autem utilitas demum spectanda est, et, quantum fieri potest, curandum ne milites a signis absint.
The Prusenses, lord, have a public bath; it is squalid and old. And so they set great store by having a new one built; a thing which you seem to me able to indulge in their desire.
Prusenses, domine, balineum habent; est sordidum et vetus. Itaque magni aestimant novum fieri; quod videris mihi desiderio eorum indulgere posse.
For there will be money out of which it may be done: first, that which I have already begun to recall and exact from private persons; then, that which they are accustomed to lay out on oil — and which they are ready to apply to the work of the bath. This, besides, both the dignity of the city and the splendor of your age demand.
Erit enim pecunia, ex qua fiat, primum ea quam revocare a privatis et exigere iam coepi; deinde quam ipsi erogare in oleum soliti parati sunt in opus balinei conferre; quod alioqui et dignitas civitatis et saeculi tui nitor postulat.
If the building of a new bath will not overburden the resources of the Prusenses, we can indulge their desire — provided only that nothing be levied for this purpose, and that no less be available to them hereafter for necessary expenditures.
Si instructio novi balinei oneratura vires Prusensium non est, possumus desiderio eorum indulgere, modo ne quid ideo aut intribuatur aut minus illis in posterum fiat ad necessarias erogationes.
Servilius Pudens, the legate, lord, came to Nicomedia on the eighth day before the Kalends of December, and freed me from the anxiety of a long expectation.
Servilius Pudens legatus, domine, VIII Kal. Decembres Nicomediam venit meque longae exspectationis sollicitudine liberavit.
Rosianus Geminus, lord — your benefits toward me have bound him to me with the closest tie; for I had him as my quaestor in my consulship. I have found him most observant of me; such reverence does he show me after my consulship, and he heaps upon the pledges of our public connection the duties of private regard.
Rosianum Geminum, domine, artissimo vinculo mecum tua in me beneficia iunxerunt; habui enim illum quaestorem in consulatu. Mei sum observantissimum expertus; tantam mihi post consulatum reverentiam praestat, et publicae necessitudinis pignera privatis cumulat officiis.
I ask, then, that you yourself favor my prayers on behalf of his standing, as it deserves. And to him, if you trust me in anything, you will give your indulgence; he himself will take pains to deserve greater things in whatever you entrust to him. You make me more sparing in praise, because I hope that his integrity, his probity, and his industry are most well known to you — not only from the honors he has held in the city under your own eyes, but also from his service at my side.
Rogo ergo, ut ipse apud te pro dignitate eius precibus meis faveas. Cui et, si quid mihi credis, indulgentiam tuam dabis; dabit ipse operam ut in iis, quae ei mandaveris, maiora mereatur. Parciorem me in laudando facit, quod spero tibi et integritatem eius et probitatem et industriam non solum ex eius honoribus, quos in urbe sub oculis tuis gessit, verum etiam ex commilitio esse notissimam.
This one thing, which because of my affection for him I do not yet seem to myself to have done fully enough, I do again and again, and I ask you, lord, that you be willing, as early as possible, to let me rejoice in the dignity of my quaestor being adorned — that is, through him, my own.
Illud unum, quod propter caritatem eius nondum mihi videor satis plene fecisse, etiam atque etiam facio teque, domine, rogo, gaudere me exornata quaestoris mei dignitate, id est per illum mea, quam maturissime velis.
Maximus, your freedman and procurator, lord, asserts that, besides the ten beneficiarii whom you ordered me to assign to him through Gemellinus — that excellent man — six soldiers also are necessary to him. These for the time being I judged should be left in his service, as I had found them, especially since he was going into Paphlagonia to procure grain. Indeed, for the sake of protection, since he so desired it, I added two cavalrymen. For the future, what you wish observed, I ask that you write back.
Maximus libertus et procurator tuus, domine, praeter decem beneficiarios, quos assignari a me Gemellino optimo viro iussisti, sibi quoque confirmat necessarios esse milites sex. Hos interim, sicut inveneram, in ministerio eius relinquendos existimavi, praesertim cum ad frumentum comparandum iret in Paphlagoniam. Quin etiam tutelae causa, quia ita desiderabat, addidi duos equites. In futurum, quid servari velis, rogo rescribas.
For the present, indeed, you rightly furnished my freedman Maximus with soldiers as he set out for the procuring of grain. For he too was discharging an extraordinary duty. When he has returned to his former task, two soldiers given by you will suffice him, and as many from Virdius Gemellinus, my procurator, whom he assists.
Nunc quidem proficiscentem ad comparationem frumentorum Maximum libertum meum recte militibus instruxisti. Fungebatur enim et ipse extraordinario munere. Cum ad pristinum actum reversus fuerit, sufficient illi duo a te dati milites et totidem a Virdio Gemellino procuratore meo, quem adiuvat.
Sempronius Caelianus, an excellent young man, has sent to me two slaves found among the recruits; whose punishment I have deferred, that I might consult you — the founder and strengthener of military discipline — about the measure of the penalty.
Sempronius Caelianus, egregius iuvenis, repertos inter tirones duos servos misit ad me; quorum ego supplicium distuli, ut te conditorem disciplinae militaris firmatoremque consulerem de modo poenae.
For I myself am in doubt, chiefly on this account: that, although they had already taken the military oath, they had not yet been distributed into the units. What, then, I ought to follow, I ask, lord, that you write — especially since it bears upon precedent.
Ipse enim dubito ob hoc maxime quod, ut iam dixerant sacramento, ita nondum distributi in numeros erant. Quid ergo debeam sequi rogo, domine, scribas, praesertim cum pertineat ad exemplum.
Sempronius Caelianus acted in accordance with my instructions in sending to you those about whom it will have to be determined whether they seem to have deserved capital punishment. It matters, however, whether they offered themselves as volunteers, or were levied, or even were given as substitutes.
Secundum mandata mea fecit Sempronius Caelianus mittendo ad te eos, de quibus cognosci oportebit, an capitale supplicium meruisse videantur. Refert autem, voluntarii se obtulerint an lecti sint vel etiam vicarii dati.
If they were levied, the recruiting was at fault; if given as substitutes, the blame lies with those who gave them; if they themselves, knowing the condition of their own status, came forward, they will have to be punished. For it does not much matter that they have not yet been distributed into the units. For that day on which they were first approved exacted from them the truth of their origin.
Lecti si sunt, inquisitio peccavit; si vicarii dati, penes eos culpa est qui dederunt; si ipsi, cum haberent condicionis suae conscientiam, venerunt, animadvertendum in illos erit. Neque enim multum interest, quod nondum per numeros distributi sunt. Ille enim dies, quo primum probati sunt, veritatem ab iis originis suae exegit.
Saving your greatness, lord, you must come down to my cares, since you have given me the right to refer to you those matters about which I am in doubt.
Salva magnitudine tua, domine, descendas oportet ad meas curas, cum ius mihi dederis referendi ad te, de quibus dubito.
In very many of the communities, especially at Nicomedia and Nicaea, certain men condemned either to hard labor or to the gladiatorial school and like kinds of punishment discharge the office and service of public slaves, and even receive, like public slaves, a yearly wage. When I had heard this, I long and greatly hesitated what I ought to do.
In plerisque civitatibus, maxime Nicomediae et Nicaeae, quidam vel in opus damnati vel in ludum similiaque his genera poenarum publicorum servorum officio ministerioque funguntur, atque etiam ut publici servi annua accipiunt. Quod ego cum audissem, diu multumque haesitavi, quid facere deberem.
For to give back to their punishment, after a long time, men now mostly old and — as is affirmed — living frugally and modestly, I judged too severe; and to retain condemned men in public offices I thought not honorable enough; while to have the same men fed by the state in idleness I considered useless, and not to feed them even dangerous.
Nam et reddere poenae post longum tempus plerosque iam senes et, quantum affirmatur, frugaliter modesteque viventes nimis severum arbitrabar, et in publicis officiis retinere damnatos non satis honestum putabam; eosdem rursus a re publica pasci otiosos inutile, non pasci etiam periculosum existimabam.
Of necessity, then, I have left the whole matter in suspense until I might consult you. You will ask, perhaps, how it came about that they were released from the punishments to which they had been condemned: I too asked, but found nothing I could affirm to you. As the decrees by which they had been condemned were produced, so there were no records by which they might be proved to have been freed.
Necessario ergo rem totam, dum te consulerem, in suspenso reliqui. Quaeres fortasse, quem ad modum evenerit, ut poenis in quas damnati erant exsolverentur: et ego quaesii, sed nihil comperi, quod affirmare tibi possim. Ut decreta quibus damnati erant proferebantur, ita nulla monumenta quibus liberati probarentur.
There were, however, those who said that, on their entreaty, they had been dismissed by order of proconsuls or legates. This added credence: that it was credible no one had dared this without authority.
Erant tamen, qui dicerent deprecantes iussu proconsulum legatorumve dimissos. Addebat fidem, quod credibile erat neminem hoc ausum sine auctore.
Let us remember that you were sent into that province for this very reason: because many things appeared in it that needed amending. And this above all will have to be corrected — that men who had been condemned to punishment have not only, as you write, been freed without authority, but are even drawn back into the condition of respectable public servants.
Meminerimus idcirco te in istam provinciam missum, quoniam multa in ea emendanda apparuerint. Erit autem vel hoc maxime corrigendum, quod qui damnati ad poenam erant, non modo ea sine auctore, ut scribis, liberati sunt, sed etiam in condicionem proborum ministrorum retrahuntur.
Those, therefore, who within these last ten years were condemned and freed by no proper authority, these must be given back to their punishment; but if any be found older, men condemned more than ten years ago, let us distribute them into those services that are not far from a punishment. They are usually assigned to the bath, to the cleaning of sewers, and likewise to the maintenance of roads and streets.
Qui igitur intra hos proximos decem annos damnati nec ullo idoneo auctore liberati sunt, hos oportebit poenae suae reddi; si qui vetustiores invenientur et senes ante annos decem damnati, distribuamus illos in ea ministeria, quae non longe a poena sint. Solent et ad balineum, ad purgationes cloacarum, item munitiones viarum et vicorum dari.
While I was going round a different part of the province, a most vast fire at Nicomedia consumed many houses of private persons and two public buildings — the Gerusia and the Iseum — though a street lay between them.
Cum diversam partem provinciae circumirem, Nicomediae vastissimum incendium multas privatorum domos et duo publica opera, quamquam via interiacente, Gerusian et Iseon absumpsit.
It spread more widely, first by the violence of the wind, then by the inertia of the men, who, it is agreed well enough, stood idle and motionless as spectators of so great a calamity; and besides, there was nowhere in public any fire-engine, no bucket, no implement at all for checking fires. And these things indeed, as I have already ordered, shall be provided.
Est autem latius sparsum, primum violentia venti, deinde inertia hominum quos satis constat otiosos et immobiles tanti mali spectatores perstitisse; et alioqui nullus usquam in publico sipo, nulla hama, nullum denique instrumentum ad incendia compescenda. Et haec quidem, ut iam praecepi, parabuntur;
You, lord, consider whether you think a guild of firemen should be established, of only a hundred and fifty men. I will take care that no one be admitted unless he is a craftsman, and that they not use the right granted for any other purpose; nor will it be difficult to keep watch over so few.
tu, domine, dispice an instituendum putes collegium fabrorum dumtaxat hominum CL. Ego attendam, ne quis nisi faber recipiatur neve iure concesso in aliud utantur; nec erit difficile custodire tam paucos.
It has occurred to you that, following the examples of very many places, a guild of firemen could be set up among the Nicomedians. But let us remember that this province, and especially those cities, have been harassed by factions of this kind. Whatever name we give, on whatever pretext, to those who have been gathered for one and the same purpose, they will become political clubs, and that in a short while.
Tibi quidem secundum exempla complurium in mentem venit posse collegium fabrorum apud Nicomedenses constitui. Sed meminerimus provinciam istam et praecipue eas civitates eius modi factionibus esse vexatas. Quodcumque nomen ex quacumque causa dederimus iis, qui in idem contracti fuerint, hetaeriae eaeque brevi fient.
It is better, therefore, to provide the things that can be of help in checking fires, and to admonish the owners of property that they themselves restrain them, and, if the matter requires, use the rallying of the populace for this.
Satius itaque est comparari ea, quae ad coercendos ignes auxilio esse possint, admonerique dominos praediorum, ut et ipsi inhibeant ac, si res poposcerit, accursu populi ad hoc uti.
The solemn vows for your safety — in which the public welfare is bound up — we have both undertaken, lord, and equally discharged, praying the gods that they may be willing that they be always discharged and always renewed.
Sollemnia vota pro incolumitate tua, qua publica salus continetur, et suscepimus, domine, pariter et solvimus precati deos, ut velint ea semper solvi semperque signari.
That you, together with the provincials, have discharged your vows to the immortal gods for my safety and welfare, and have pronounced them anew, I have learned with pleasure, my dear Secundus, from your letter.
Et solvisse vos cum provincialibus dis immortalibus vota pro mea salute et incolumitate et nuncupasse libenter, mi Secunde carissime, cognovi ex litteris tuis.
On an aqueduct, lord, the Nicomedians have spent three million three hundred and eighteen thousand sesterces — which, still unfinished, has been abandoned, and even pulled down; again, on another conduit two hundred thousand were laid out. This too being left off, there is need of new expenditure, that they may have water, who have so wretchedly thrown away so much money.
In aquae ductum, domine, Nicomedenses impenderunt HS XXX CCCXVIII, qui imperfectus adhuc omissus, destructus etiam est; rursus in alium ductum erogata sunt CC. Hoc quoque relicto novo impendio est opus, ut aquam habeant, qui tantam pecuniam male perdiderunt.
I myself have come to a most pure spring, from which it seems the water ought to be brought — as was attempted at the beginning — by an arched work, lest it reach only the flat and low parts of the city. A very few arches still stand; some can also be raised with the squared stone that was taken down from the earlier work; some part, as it seems to me, will have to be done with brickwork, for that is both easier and cheaper.
Ipse perveni ad fontem purissimum, ex quo videtur aqua debere perduci, sicut initio temptatum erat, arcuato opere, ne tantum ad plana civitatis et humilia perveniat. Manent adhuc paucissimi arcus: possunt et erigi quidam lapide quadrato, qui ex superiore opere detractus est; aliqua pars, ut mihi videtur, testaceo opere agenda erit, id enim et facilius et vilius.
But above all it is necessary that a water-engineer or an architect be sent by you, lest there happen again what has happened. This one thing I affirm: that both the usefulness and the beauty of the work are most worthy of your age.
Sed in primis necessarium est mitti a te vel aquilegem vel architectum, ne rursus eveniat quod accidit. Ego illud unum affirmo, et utilitatem operis et pulchritudinem saeculo tuo esse dignissimam.
Care must be taken that water be brought into the city of Nicomedia. I truly believe that you will undertake this work with the diligence you ought. But, so help me, it belongs to that same diligence of yours to inquire by whose fault the Nicomedians have up to this time thrown away so much money — lest, while they do favors among themselves, they both begin aqueducts and abandon them. So whatever you find out, bring to my knowledge.
Curandum est, ut aqua in Nicomedensem civitatem perducatur. Vere credo te ea, qua debebis, diligentia hoc opus aggressurum. Sed medius fidius ad eandem diligentiam tuam pertinet inquirere, quorum vitio ad hoc tempus tantam pecuniam Nicomedenses perdiderint, ne, dum inter se gratificantur, et incohaverint aquae ductus et reliquerint. Quid itaque compereris, perfer in notitiam meam.
A theatre at Nicaea, lord, already constructed for the greatest part, but still unfinished, has swallowed — as I hear, for the accounting of the work has not been gone through — more than ten million sesterces: I fear, to no purpose.
Theatrum, domine, Nicaeae maxima iam parte constructum, imperfectum tamen, sestertium - ut audio; neque enim ratio operis excussa est - amplius centies hausit: vereor ne frustra.
For it has settled with enormous cracks and gapes open, whether the cause be the damp and soft soil or the stone itself, slight and crumbling. It is certainly worth deliberation whether it should be finished, or left, or even pulled down. For the props and substructures by which it is repeatedly held up seem to me not so much solid as costly.
Ingentibus enim rimis desedit et hiat, sive in causa solum umidum et molle, silc lapis ipsc gracilis et putris: dignum est certe deliberatione, sitne faciendum an sit relinquendum an etiam destruendum. Nam fulturae ac substructiones, quibus subinde suscipitur, non tam firmae mihi quam sumptuosaefo uidentur.
Much is owed to this theatre from the promises of private persons — basilicas around it, porticoes above the auditorium. All of which are now deferred, since that which must first be completed is at a standstill.
Huic theatro ex priuatorum pollicitationibus multa debentur, ut basilicae circa, ut porticus supra caucam. Quae nunc omnia differuntur cessante eo, quod ante peragendum est.
The same Nicaeans, before my arrival, began to restore a gymnasium lost by fire — far more extensive and ample than it had been — and have already spent a considerable sum; there is a danger that it is to little purpose, for it is ill-arranged and scattered. Besides, an architect — admittedly a rival of the one by whom the work was begun — affirms that the walls, though twenty-two feet thick, cannot bear the loads laid upon them, because they are stuffed in the middle with rubble and not faced with brickwork.
Iidem Nicaeenses gymnasium inccndio amissum ante aduentum meum restituere coeperunt, longe numerosius laxiusque quam fuerat, et iam aliquantum erogauerunt; periculum est, ne parum utiliter; incompositum enim et sparsum est. Praeterea architectus, sane aemulus eius a quo opus incohatum est, adfirmat parietes quamquam uiginti et duos pedes latos imposita onera sustinere non posse, quia snt caemcnto medii farti nec testaceo opere praecincti.
The Claudiopolitans too, in a low-lying place with a mountain overhanging, are digging out rather than building a huge bath — and that out of the money which the councillors, added by your favor, have either already offered as an entrance-fee or will contribute at our demand.
Claudiopolitani quoque in deprcsso loco, imminente etiam monte ingens balineum defodiunt magis quam aedificant, et quidem ex ea pecunia, quam buleutae additi beneficio tuo aut iam obtulerunt ob introitum aut nobis exigentibus conferent.
Therefore, since I fear that there the public money, and here — what is more precious than any money — your own gift may be ill-bestowed, I am compelled to ask you to send an architect, not only for the theatre but also for these baths, to consider whether it is more useful, after the expense already made, to finish the works in some fashion as they were begun, or to correct what seems in need of correction, and to move what must be moved — lest, while we wish to save what has been spent, we spend badly what must still be added.
Ergo cum timeam ne illic publica pecunia, hic, quod est omni pecunia pretiosius, munus tuum male collocetur, cogor petere a te non solum ob theatrum, uerum etiam ob haec balinea mittas architectum, dispecturum utrum sit utilius post sumptum qui hctus cst quoquo modo consummare opera? ut incohata sunt, an quae uidentur emendanda corrigere, quac transferenda transferre, ne dum seruarc uolumus quod impensum est, male impendamus quod addendum cst.
What ought to be done about the theatre that has been begun among the Nicaeans, you, on the spot, will best deliberate and decide. For me it will be enough to be informed which view you have adopted. But exact the works from the private persons only when the theatre, on account of which they were promised, shall have been built.
Quid oporteat fieri circa theatrum, quod incohatum apud Nicaeenses est, in rc praesenti optimc deliberabis et constitues. Mihi sufficiet indicari, cui sentcntiae accesseris: Tunc autem a priuatis exige opera, cum theatrum, propter quod illa promissa sunt, factum erit.
The little Greeks are devoted to their gymnasia; perhaps that is why the Nicaeans undertook the building of theirs with too great spirit. But they must be content with what can suffice for them.
Gymnasiis indulgent Graeculi; ideo forsitan Nicaeenses maiore animo constructionem eius aggressi sunt: sed oportet illos eo contentos esse, quod possit illis sufficere.
What is to be advised to the Claudiopolitans about the bath, which (as you write) they have begun in a hardly suitable place, you will decide. Architects cannot be lacking to you. There is no province that does not have both skilled and ingenious men; only do not think it shorter to send from the city, when they are wont to come to us even from Greece.
Quid Claudiopolitanis circa balineum quod parum, ut scribis, idoneo loco incohauerunt suadendum sit, tu constitues. Architecti tibi deesse non possunt. Nulla prouincia non et peritos et ingeniosos homines habet; modo ne existimes breuius esse ab urbe mitti, cum ex Graecia etiam ad nos uenire soliti sint.
As I contemplate both the greatness of your fortune and the greatness of your spirit, it seems to me most fitting that works be shown forth worthy no less of your eternity than of your glory, and destined to have as much usefulness as beauty.
Intuenti mihi et fortunae tuae et animi magnitudinem conuenientissimum uidetur demonstrari opera non minus aeternitate tua quam gloria digna, quantumque pulchritudinis tantum utilitatis habitura.
In the territory of the Nicomedians there is a very large lake. Across it, marbles, produce, timber, and building-stuff are carried by boat — at modest cost and labor — as far as the road; thence, with great labor and greater expense, by carriages down to the sea.... This work demands many hands. But these, in turn, are not lacking. For both in the countryside there is a great abundance of men, and the greatest in the city; and there is sure hope that all would set most gladly to a work profitable to all.
Est in Nicomedensium finibus amplissimus lacus. Per hunc marmora fructus ligna materiae et sumptu modico et labore usque ad uiam nauibus, inde magno labore maiore impendio uehiculis ad mare deuehuntur... hoc opus multas manus poscit. At eae porro non desunt. Nam et in agris magna copia est hominum et maxima in civitate, certaque spes omnes libentissime aggressuros opus omnibus fructuosum.
It remains that you send a leveller or an architect, if it seem good to you, to explore carefully whether the lake is higher than the sea — which the craftsmen of this region contend is forty cubits higher.
Superest ut tu libratorem vel architectum si tibi videbitur mittas, qui diligenter exploret, sitne lacus altior mari, quem artifices regionis huius quadraginta cubitis altiorem esse contendunt.
I myself find, through these same places, a channel cut by a king; but it is uncertain whether it was to collect the moisture of the surrounding fields, or to join the lake to the river — for it is unfinished. This too is doubtful: whether the king was cut off by death, or despaired of completing the work.
Ego per eadem loca invenio fossam a rege percussam, sed incertum utrum ad colligendum umorem circumiacentium agrorum an ad committendum flumini lacum; est enim imperfecta. Hoc quoque dubium, intercepto rege mortalitate an desperato operis effectu.
But by this very thing — for you will bear with me being ambitious for your glory — I am roused and kindled to desire that there be completed by you what kings had only begun.
Sed hoc ipso - feres enim me ambitiosum pro tua gloria - incitor et accendor, ut cupiam peragi a te quae tantum coeperant reges.
That lake may well stir us to wish to join it to the sea; but it must plainly be explored with diligence, lest, if it be let out into the sea, it flow wholly away — and at least how much water it receives, and from where. You will be able to ask Calpurnius Macer for a leveller, and I will send you from here someone skilled in works of this kind.
Potest nos sollicitare lacus iste, ut committere illum mari velimus; sed plane explorandum est diligenter, ne si emissus in mare fuerit totus effluat certe, quantum aquarum et unde accipiat. Poteris a Calpurnio Macro petere libratorem, et ego hinc aliquem tibi peritum eius modi operum mittam.
As I was inquiring into the expenditures of the Byzantines’ commonwealth, which it makes very large, it was pointed out to me, lord, that every year a legate is sent to salute you, with a decree, and that to him are given twelve thousand sesterces.
Requirenti mihi Byzantiorum rei publicae impendia, quae maxima fecit, indicatum est, domine, legatum ad te salutandum annis omnibus cum psephismate mitti, eique dari nummorum duodena milia.
Mindful, then, of your purpose, I thought the legate should be kept back, but the decree sent — so that at once both the cost might be lightened and the public duty fulfilled.
Memor ergo propositi tui legatum quidem retinendum, psephisma autem mittendum putavi, ut simul et sumptus levaretur et impleretur publicum officium.
To the same community three thousand were charged, which were given yearly under the name of travel-money to a legate going to salute, on the public behalf, the governor of Moesia. These I thought should be cut down for the future.
Eidem civitati imputata sunt terna milia, quae viatici nomine annua dabantur legato eunti ad eum qui Moesiae praeest publice salutandum. Haec ego in posterum circumcidenda existimavi.
I ask you, lord, that by writing back what you think, you deign either to confirm my counsel or to amend my error.
Te, domine, rogo ut quid sentias rescribendo aut consilium meum confirmare aut errorem emendare digneris.
You have done excellently, dearest Secundus, in remitting those twelve thousand which the Byzantines were spending on a legate to salute me. They will discharge that part, even if only the decree be sent through you. The governor of Moesia too will forgive them, if they court him less expensively.
Optime fecisti, Secunde carissime, duodena ista Byzantiis quae ad salutandum me in legatum impendebantur remittendo. Fungentur his partibus, etsi solum psephisma per te missum fuerit. Ignoscet illis et Moesiae praeses, si minus illum sumptuose coluerint.
The travel-warrants, lord, whose date has passed — whether you wish them to be observed at all, and for how long — I ask that you write, and free me from hesitation. For I fear lest, slipping toward one side or the other through ignorance, I either confirm what is unlawful or impede what is necessary.
Diplomata, domine, quorum dies praeterit, an omnino observari et quam diu velis, rogo scribas meque haesitatione liberes. Vereor enim, ne in alterutram partem ignorantia lapsus aut illicita confirmem aut necessaria impediam.
Travel-warrants whose date is past ought not to be in use. Therefore I lay it upon myself, among the first of duties, to send new warrants throughout all the provinces before they can be wanted.
Diplomata, quorum praeteritus est dies, non debent esse in usu. Ideo inter prima iniungo mihi, ut per omnes provincias ante mittam nova diplomata, quam desiderari possint.
When I wished, lord, to examine at Apamea the public debtors, the revenue, and the expenditures, it was answered me that all indeed desired the accounts of the colony to be read by me, but that they had never been read by any of the proconsuls; that they had a privilege and a most ancient custom of administering their commonwealth at their own discretion.
Cum vellem, domine, Apameae cognoscere publicos debitores et reditum et impendia, responsum est mihi cupere quidem universos, ut a me rationes coloniae legerentur, numquam tamen esse lectas ab ullo proconsulum; habuisse privilegium et vetustissimum morem arbitrio suo rem publicam administrare.
I required that what they said and what they recited they should put together in a memorandum; which I have sent you just as I received it, although I understood that most of it does not pertain to the matter in question.
Exegi ut quae dicebant quaeque recitabant libello complecterentur; quem tibi qualem acceperam misi, quamvis intellegerem pleraque ex illo ad id, de quo quaeritur, non pertinere.
I ask you that you deign to direct me beforehand what you think I ought to observe. For I fear lest I seem either to have exceeded, or not to have fulfilled, the parts of my office.
Te rogo ut mihi praeire digneris, quid me putes observare debere. Vereor enim ne aut excessisse aut non implesse officii mei partes videar.
The memorandum of the Apamenes, which you had joined to your letter, has spared me the necessity of weighing of what kind were the grounds on which they wish it to appear that those who held this province as proconsuls abstained from inspecting their accounts — although they themselves have not refused that you should inspect them.
Libellus Apamenorum, quem epistulae tuae iunxeras, remisit mihi necessitatem perpendendi qualia essent, propter quae videri volunt eos, qui pro consulibus hanc provinciam obtinuerunt, abstinuisse inspectatione rationum suarum, cum ipse ut eas inspiceres non recusaverint.
Their honesty, therefore, is to be rewarded, so that they may know already now that what you are about to inspect, you will inspect by my will, with the privileges they hold left intact.
Remuneranda est igitur probitas eorum, ut iam nunc sciant hoc, quod inspecturus es, ex mea voluntate salvis, quae habent, privilegiis esse facturum.
Before my arrival, lord, the Nicomedians began to add a new forum to their old one; in a corner of which there is a most ancient temple of the Great Mother, to be either repaired or moved — chiefly on this account, that it is much lower than the work which is now rising at its highest.
Ante adventum meum, domine, Nicomedenses priori foro novum adicere coeperunt, cuius in angulo est aedes vetustissima Matris Magnae aut reficienda aut transferenda, ob hoc praecipue quod est multo depressior opere eo quod cum maxime surgit.
When I asked whether there was any law laid down for the temple, I learned that the manner of dedication is one here, another among us. Consider, then, lord, whether you think a temple for which no law has been laid down can be moved without offense to religion; otherwise it is most convenient, if religion does not forbid.
Ego cum quaererem, num esset aliqua lex dicta templo, cognovi alium hic, alium apud nos esse morem dedicationis. Dispice ergo, domine, an putes aedem, cui nulla lex dicta est, salva religione posse transferri; alioqui commodissimum est, si religio non impedit.
You can, my dear Secundus, without scruple of religion — if the lie of the place seems to require it — move the temple of the Mother of the Gods to one that is more suitable; and let it not trouble you that no law of dedication is found, since the soil of a foreign city is not capable of the dedication which is made by our law.
Potes, mi Secunde carissime, sine sollicitudine religionis, si loci positio videtur hoc desiderare, aedem Matris Deum transferre in eam quae est accommodatior; nec te moveat, quod lex dedicationis nulla reperitur, cum solum peregrinae civitatis capax non sit dedicationis, quae fit nostro iure.
It is difficult, lord, to express in words how great a joy I have received, in that you have granted, both to me and to my mother-in-law, that you should transfer her kinsman Caelius Clemens into this province.
Difficile est, domine, exprimere verbis, quantam perceperim laetitiam, quod et mihi et socrui meae praestitisti, ut affinem eius Caelium Clementem in hanc provinciam transferres.
For from that I understand to the full the measure of your benefit, since I experience so full an indulgence together with my whole household — to which I do not even dare return an equal gratitude, however much I might be able. And so I take refuge in vows, and pray the gods that I be not judged unworthy of those things which you continually confer upon me.
Ex illo enim et mensuram beneficii tui penitus intellego, cum tam plenam indulgentiam cum tota domo mea experiar, cui referre gratiam parem ne audeo quidem, quamvis maxime possim. Itaque ad vota confugio deosque precor, ut iis, quae in me assidue confers, non indignus existimer.
The day, lord, on which you saved the empire by undertaking it, we have celebrated with as much joy as you deserve, praying the gods that they keep you — on whose safety the guardianship and security of the human race rests — unharmed and flourishing. We have also led the soldiers in the oath of allegiance in the solemn manner, the provincials swearing the same with a rival devotion.
Diem, domine, quo servasti imperium, dum suscipis, quanta mereris laetitia celebravimus, precati deos ut te generi humano, cuius tutela et securitas saluti tuae innisa est, incolumem florentemque praestarent. Praeivimus et commilitonibus ius iurandum more sollemni, eadem provincialibus certatim pietate iurantibus.
With how great reverence and joy the soldiers, together with the provincials, with you leading, celebrated the day of my accession, I have gladly recognized, my dear Secundus, from your letter.
Quanta religione et laetitia commilitones cum provincialibus te praeeunte diem imperii mei celebraverint, libenter, mi Secunde carissime, agnovi litteris tuis.
The public moneys, lord, by your foresight and our service, have both already been exacted and are being exacted; which I fear may lie idle. For there is either no, or a most rare, opportunity of buying estates, and there are not found those willing to owe to the commonwealth — especially at twelve per cent, the rate at which they borrow from private persons.
Pecuniae publicae, domine, providentia tua et ministerio nostro et iam exactae sunt et exiguntur; quae vereor ne otiosae iaceant. Nam et praediorum comparandorum aut nulla aut rarissima occasio est, nec inveniuntur qui velint debere rei publicae, praesertim duodenis assibus, quanti a privatis mutuantur.
Consider, then, lord, whether you think the interest should be lessened, and by this means suitable debtors invited; and, if not even so they are found, whether the money should be distributed among the decurions, on condition that they give good security to the commonwealth — which, though they be unwilling and refuse, will be less harsh once a lighter interest has been set.
Dispice ergo, domine, numquid minuendam usuram ac per hoc idoneos debitores invitandos putes, et, si nec sic reperiuntur, distribuendam inter decuriones pecuniam, ita ut recte rei publicae caveant; quod quamquam invitis et recusantibus minus acerbum erit leviore usura constituta.
I myself see no other remedy, my dear Secundus, than that the amount of interest be lessened, so that the public moneys may be more easily placed out. The measure of it, according to the number of those who will borrow, you shall set. To compel the unwilling to receive what will perhaps lie idle for themselves is not consonant with the justice of our times.
Et ipse non aliud remedium dispicio, mi Secunde carissime, quam ut quantitas usurarum minuatur, quo facilius pecuniae publicae collocentur. Modum eius, ex copia eorum qui mutuabuntur, tu constitues. Invitos ad accipiendum compellere, quod fortassis ipsis otiosum futurum sit, non est ex iustitia nostrorum temporum.
I give you the greatest thanks, lord, that, amid your very greatest occupations, you have deigned to guide me too in those matters about which I have consulted you; which I ask that you do now as well.
Summas, domine, gratias ago, quod inter maximas occupationes in iis, de quibus te consului, me quoque regere dignatus es; quod nunc quoque facias rogo.
For a certain man approached me and indicated that his adversaries, relegated for three years by Servilius Calvus, a most illustrious man, were lingering in the province; they, on the contrary, affirmed that they had been restored by the same man, and recited his edict. For which cause I believed it necessary to refer the matter whole to you.
Adiit enim me quidam indicavitque adversarios suos a Servilio Calvo, clarissimo viro, in triennium relegatos in provincia morari: illi contra ab eodem se restitutos affirmaverunt edictumque recitaverunt. Qua causa necessarium credidi rem integram ad te referre.
For, as it is provided in your instructions that I not restore those relegated by another or by myself, so concerning those whom another both relegated and restored, nothing is laid down. Therefore you, lord, had to be consulted what you would have me observe — as also, by Hercules, about those who, relegated in perpetuity and not restored, are caught in the province.
Nam, sicut mandatis tuis cautum est, ne restituam ab alio aut a me relegatos, ita de iis, quos alius et relegaverit et restituerit, nihil comprehensum est. Ideo tu, domine, consulendus fuisti, quid observare me velles, tam hercule quam de iis qui in perpetuum relegati nec restituti in provincia deprehenduntur.
For this kind of case too has fallen into my cognizance. For there was brought to me a man relegated in perpetuity by Julius Bassus, the proconsul. I, because I knew that the acts of Bassus had been rescinded, and that the senate had given to all about whom he had decided anything the right of pleading the matter anew — within two years only — asked this man, whom Bassus had relegated, whether he had approached and informed the proconsul. He denied it.
Nam haec quoque species incidit in cognitionem meam. Est enim adductus ad me in perpetuum relegatus a Iulio Basso proconsule. Ego, quia sciebam acta Bassi rescissa datumque a senatu ius omnibus, de quibus ille aliquid constituisset, ex integro agendi, dumtaxat per biennium, interrogavi hunc, quem relegaverat, an adisset docuissetque proconsulem. Negavit.
Whereby it came about that I consult you whether he should be given back to his punishment, or something heavier — and what above all you would think should be decided, both against this man and against those, if any happen to be found in a like condition. The decree of Calvus and his edict, likewise the decree of Bassus, I have appended to this letter.
Per quod effectum est, ut te consulerem, reddendum eum poenae suae an gravius aliquid et quid potissimum constituendum putares et in hunc et in eos, si qui forte in simili condicione invenirentur. Decretum Calvi et edictum, item decretum Bassi his litteris subieci.
What is to be decided in the case of those who, relegated for three years by Publius Servilius Calvus the proconsul and soon restored by the same man’s edict, have remained in the province, I will write back to you shortly, when I have inquired into the reasons for that act from Calvus.
Quid in persona eorum statuendum sit, qui a P. Servilio Calvo proconsule in triennium relegati et mox eiusdem edicto restituti in provincia remanserunt, proxime tibi rescribam, cum causas eius facti a Calvo requisiero.
He who was relegated in perpetuity by Julius Bassus — since he had the opportunity of pleading for two years, if he thinks himself relegated unjustly, and did not do it, but persisted in staying in the province — ought to be sent in chains to the prefects of my praetorian guard. For it is not enough that he be restored to his punishment, which he has eluded by contumacy.
Qui a Iulio Basso in perpetuum relegatus est, cum per biennium agendi facultatem habuerit, si existimat se iniuria relegatum, neque id fecerit atque in provincia morari perseverarit, vinctus mitti ad praefectos praetorii mei debet. Neque enim sufficit eum poenae suae restitui, quam contumacia elusit.
When I was summoning the jurors, lord, about to open the assize, Flavius Archippus began to seek exemption as a philosopher.
Cum citarem iudices, domine, conventum incohaturus, Flavius Archippus vacationem petere coepit ut philosophus.
There were those who said that he ought not to be freed from the necessity of judging, but altogether removed from the number of the jurors and given back to the punishment which he had escaped by breaking his chains.
Fuerunt, qui dicerent non liberandum eum iudicandi necessitate, sed omnino tollendum de iudicum numero reddendumque poenae, quam fractis vinculis evasisset.
The sentence of Velius Paulus, the proconsul, was recited, by which Archippus was shown to have been condemned, on a charge of forgery, to the mines: he produced nothing by which he might show himself restored; yet he alleged, in support of his restoration, both a petition given by himself to Domitian, and letters of his pertaining to his honor, and a decree of the Prusenses. To these he added also your own letter written to him, and your father’s edict and letter, by which he had confirmed the benefits given by Domitian.
Recitata est sententia Veli Pauli proconsulis, qua probabatur Archippus crimine falsi damnatus in metallum: ille nihil proferebat, quo restitutum se doceret; allegabat tamen pro restitutione et libellum a se Domitiano datum et epistulas eius ad honorem suum pertinentes et decretum Prusensium. Addebat his et tuas litteras scriptas sibi, addebat et patris tui edictum et epistulam, quibus confirmasset beneficia a Domitiano data.
And so, although such charges were laid against him, I thought nothing should be decreed until I consulted you about a matter that seemed to me worthy of your ruling. What was recited on both sides, I have appended to this letter.
Itaque, quamvis eidem talia crimina applicarentur, nihil decernendum putavi, donec te consulerem de eo, quod mihi constitutione tua dignum videbatur. Ea quae sunt utrimque recitata his litteris subieci.
“Flavius Archippus the philosopher has obtained from me that I order land to be bought for him, to the value of a hundred thousand sesterces, near Prusias, his native city, with the revenue of which he might support his people. This I wish to be granted him. You will charge the whole sum to the account of my liberality.”
Flavius Archippus philosophus impetravit a me, ut agrum ei ad c circa PrusiadamÅ, patriam suam, emi iuberem, cuius reditu suos alere posset. Quod ei praestari volo. Summam expensam liberalitati meae feres.
“Archippus the philosopher, a good man and answering to his profession even in his character, I should like you to hold as commended, my dear Maximus, and to show him your full kindness in those things which he shall modestly desire of you.”
Archippum philosophum, bonum virum et professioni suae etiam moribus respondentem, commendatum habeas velim, mi Maxime, et plenam ei humanitatem tuam praestes in iis, quae verecunde a te desideraverit.
“Certain things, without doubt, Quirites, the very felicity of the times proclaims of itself, nor is a good prince to be awaited in those matters in which it is enough that he be understood — since my citizens can promise themselves this conviction, even unprompted: that I have preferred the security of all to my own repose, so as both to confer new benefits and to preserve those granted before me.
Quaedam sine dubio, Quirites, ipsa felicitas temporum edicit, nec exspectandus est in iis bonus princeps, quibus illum intellegi satis est, cum hoc sibi civium meorum spondere possit vel non admonita persuasio, me securitatem omnium quieti meae praetulisse, ut et nova beneficia conferrem et ante me concessa servarem.
Yet, lest either the diffidence of those who have obtained them, or the memory of him who granted them, bring any hesitation to the public joys, I have thought it at once necessary and welcome to send my indulgence to meet the doubters.
Ne tamen aliquam gaudiis publicis afferat haesitationem vel eorum qui impetraverunt diffidentia vel eius memoria qui praestitit, necessarium pariter credidi ac laetum obviam dubitantibus indulgentiam meam mittere.
I do not wish anyone to suppose that whatever he has obtained under another prince, privately or publicly, is on that account rescinded by me — only that he should rather owe it to me. Let things be ratified and sure, nor let the congratulation of any man, whom the fortune of the empire has regarded with a kindlier face, need renewed entreaties. Let them be free to attend to new benefits, and let them know that only those things are to be asked which they do not have.”
Nolo existimet quisquam, quod alio principe vel privatim vel publice consecutus sit ideo saltem a me rescindi, ut potius mihi debeat. Sint rata et certa, nec gratulatio ullius instauratis egeat precibus, quem fortuna imperii vultu meliore respexit. le novis beneficiis vacare patiantur, et ea demum sciant roganda esse quae non habent.
Since the ordering of all those things which, begun in former times, were brought to completion, must be observed, so too the letters of Domitian must be stood by.
Cum rerum omnium ordinatio, quae prioribus temporibus incohatae consummatae sunt, observanda sit, tum epistulis etiam Domitiani standum est.
Flavius Archippus, by your safety and eternity, asks of me that I send you the petition which he gave me. This I thought should be granted to one so asking — yet in such a way that I make known to his accuser that I would send it; from whom I have also myself received a petition, which I have joined to this letter, so that, as if you had heard both parties, you might the more easily discern what you think should be decided.
Flavius Archippus per salutem tuam aeternitatemque petit a me, ut libellum quem mihi dedit mitterem tibi. Quod ego sic roganti praestandum putavi, ita tamen ut missurum me notum accusatrici eius facerem, a qua et ipsa acceptum libellum his epistulis iunxi, quo facilius velut audita utraque parte dispiceres, quid statuendum putares.
Domitian could indeed have been ignorant in what condition Archippus was, when he wrote so many things pertaining to his honor; but it is more suited to my nature to believe that even his standing was relieved by the prince’s intervention — especially since the honor of statues too was so often decreed him by those who were not ignorant of what Paulus the proconsul had pronounced about him.
Potuit quidem ignorasse Domitianus, in quo statu esset Archippus, cum tam multa ad honorem eius pertinentia scriberet; sed meae naturae accommodatius est credere etiam statui eius subventum interventu principis, praesertim cum etiam statuarum ei honor totiens decretus sit ab iis, qui non ignorabant, quid de illo Paulus proconsul pronuntiasset.
These things, however, my dear Secundus, do not tend to this — that, if any new charge is brought against him, you should think it the less to be heard. The petitions of Furia Prima, the accuser, and likewise of Archippus himself, which you had joined to your second letter, I have read.
Quae tamen, mi Secunde carissime, non eo pertinent, ut si quid illi novi criminis obicitur, minus de eo audiendum putes. Libellos Furiae Primae accusatricis, item ipsius Archippi, quos alteri epistulae tuae iunxeras, legi.
You indeed, lord, most providently fear lest the lake, joined to the river and so to the sea, flow away; but I seem, on the spot, to have found how I might meet this danger.
Tu quidem, domine, providentissime vereris,ne commissus flumini atque ita mari lacus effluat; sed ego in re praesenti invenisse videor, quem ad modum huic periculo occurrerem.
For the lake can be brought by a channel up to the river, yet not let out into the river, but, with a kind of margin left, be at once held in and kept apart. So we shall achieve that it neither be drained of water by mixing with the river, and yet be just as if it were mixed. For it will be easy, across that very short strip of land which will lie between, to transfer into the river the cargoes brought up by the channel.
Potest enim lacus fossa usque ad flumen adduci nec tamen in flumen emitti, sed relicto quasi margine contineri pariter et dirimi. Sic consequemur, ut neque aqua viduetur flumini mixtus et sit perinde ac si misceatur. Erit enim facile per illam brevissimam terram, quae interiacebit, advecta fossa onera transponere in flumen.
This will be done if necessity compels — and, I hope, it will not compel. For the lake itself is deep enough, and now lets out a river on the opposite side, which, cut off thence and turned where we wish, will pour out, without any loss to the lake, as much water as it now carries. Besides, along that stretch through which the channel must be dug, streams fall in; which, if carefully gathered, will increase what the lake gives.
Quod ita fiet si necessitas coget, et - spero - non coget. Est enim et lacus ipse satis altus et nunc in contrariam partem flumen emittit, quod interclusum inde et quo volumus aversum, sine ullo detrimento lacus tantum aquae quantum nunc portat effundet. Praeterea per id spatium, per quod fossa fodienda est, incidunt rivi; qui si diligenter colligantur, augebunt illud quod lacus dederit.
But indeed, if it should please to lead the channel farther and, pressed lower, to level it with the sea, and to discharge it not into the river but into the sea itself, the back-thrust of the sea will keep and press back whatever comes from the lake. And if the nature of the place furnished us none of these, it would still be a simple matter to temper the water’s course by sluices.
Enimvero, si placeat fossam longius ducere et altius pressam mari aequare nec in flumen, sed in ipsum mare emittere, repercussus maris servabit et reprimet, quidquid e lacu veniet. Quorum si nihil nobis loci natura praestaret, expeditum tamen erat cataractis aquae cursum temperare.
But these things, and others, a leveller will investigate and explore far more shrewdly — whom plainly, lord, you ought to send, as you promise. For it is a matter worthy both of your greatness and of your care. I meanwhile, on your authority, have written to Calpurnius Macer, a most illustrious man, to send a leveller as suitable as possible.
Verum et haec et alia multo sagacius conquiret explorabitque librator, quem plane, domine, debes mittere, ut polliceris. Est enim res digna et magnitudine tua et cura. Ego interim Calpurnio Macro clarissimo viro auctore te scripsi, ut libratorem quam maxime idoneum mitteret.
It is manifest, my dear Secundus, that neither prudence nor diligence has been lacking to you concerning that lake, since you have so many things provided for, through which it is neither in danger of being drained, and will be more in use to us. Choose, therefore, what the matter itself shall especially advise. Calpurnius Macer, I believe, will see to furnishing you with a leveller; and those provinces are not without such craftsmen.
Manifestum, mi Secunde carissime, nec prudentiam nec diligentiam tibi defuisse circa istum lacum, cum tam multa provisa habeas, per quae nec periclitetur exhauriri et magis in usu nobis futurus sit. Elige igitur id quod praecipue res ipsa suaserit. Calpurnium Macrum credo facturum, ut te libratore instruat, neque provinciae istae his artificibus carent.
Lycormas, your freedman, wrote to me, lord, that if any embassy should come from the Bosporus making for the city, it be detained until his arrival. And an embassy indeed, at least into that city in which I myself am, has so far come none; but there came a courier of King Sauromates, whom I — using the opportunity which chance had offered me — thought should be sent on together with the courier who had preceded Lycormas on the road, so that you might learn equally, from the letters of Lycormas and of the king, those things which perhaps you ought equally to know.
Scripsit mihi, domine, Lycormas libertus tuus ut, si qua legatio a Bosporo venisset urbem petitura, usque in adventum suum retineretur. Et legatio quidem, dumtaxat in eam civitatem, in qua ipse sum, nulla adhuc venit, sed venit tabellarius Sauromatae regis, quem ego usus opportunitate, quam mihi casus obtulerat, cum tabellario qui Lycormam ex itinere praecessit mittendum putavi, ut posses ex Lycormae et regis epistulis pariter cognoscere, quae fortasse pariter scire deberes.
King Sauromates wrote to me that there are certain things you ought to know as soon as possible. For which reason I aided, with a warrant, the haste of the courier whom he sent to you with letters.
Rex Sauromates scripsit mihi esse quaedam, quae deberes quam maturissime scire. Qua ex causa festinationem tabellarii, quem ad te cum epistulis misit, diplomate adiuvi.
There is a great question, lord, pertaining to the whole province, about the condition and the maintenance of those whom they call threptoi — foster-children reared from foundlings.
Magna, domine, et ad totam provinciam pertinens quaestio est de condicione et alimentis eorum, quos vocant ’threptous’.
In which, having heard the constitutions of the emperors, because I found nothing either proper or universal that referred to the Bithynians, I judged you should be consulted what you would have observed; nor did I think I could, in a matter that demanded your authority, be content with precedents.
In qua ego auditis constitutionibus principum, quia nihil inveniebam aut proprium aut universale, quod ad Bithynos referretur, consulendum te existimavi, quid observari velles; neque putavi posse me in eo, quod auctoritatem tuam posceret, exemplis esse contentum.
There was recited before me an edict, said to be of the deified Augustus, pertaining to Andania; there were recited also letters of the deified Vespasian to the Lacedaemonians, and of the deified Titus to the same and to the Achaeans, and of Domitian to Avidius Nigrinus and Armenius Brocchus, the proconsuls, likewise to the Lacedaemonians; which I therefore did not send you, both because they seemed too little corrected, and some of doubtful authenticity, and because I believed the true and corrected ones were in your archives.
Recitabatur autem apud me edictum, quod dicebatur divi Augusti, ad Andaniam pertinens; recitatae et epistulae divi Vespasiani ad Lacedaemonios et divi Titi ad eosdem et Achaeos et Domitiani ad Avidium Tigrinum et Armenium Brocchum proconsules, item ad Lacedaemonios; quae ideo tibi non misi, quia et parum emendata et quaedam non certae fidei videbantur, et quia vera et emendata in scriniis tuis esse credebam.
That question, which pertains to those who, born free, were exposed, then taken up by certain persons and reared in slavery, has often been handled; nor is anything found in the records of those emperors who were before me that was laid down for all the provinces.
Quaestio ista, quae pertinet ad eos qui liberi nati expositi, deinde sublati a quibusdam et in servitute educati sunt, saepe tractata est, nec quicquam invenitur in commentariis eorum principum, qui ante me fuerunt, quod ad omnes provincias sit constitutum.
There are indeed letters of Domitian to Avidius Nigrinus and Armenius Brocchus, which perhaps ought to be observed: but among those provinces about which he wrote back, Bithynia is not; and therefore I think neither should the claim of freedom be denied to those who, from a cause of this kind, shall be claimed into liberty, nor should liberty itself be bought back at the price of their maintenance.
Epistulae sane sunt Domitiani ad Avidium Nigrinum et Armenium Brocchum, quae fortasse debeant observari: sed inter eas provincias, de quibus rescripsit, non est Bithynia; et ideo nec assertionem denegandam iis qui ex eius modi causa in libertatem vindicabuntur puto, neque ipsam libertatem redimendam pretio alimentorum.
The legate of King Sauromates — since of his own accord he had halted two days at Nicaea, where he had found me — I did not think, lord, that a longer delay should be made: first, because it was still uncertain when your freedman Lycormas would come; then, because I myself was setting out for a different part of the province, the necessity of duty so requiring.
Legato Sauromatae regis; cum sua sponte Nicaeae, ubi me invenerat, biduo substitisset, longiorem moram faciendam, domine, non putavi, primum quod incertum adhuc erat, quando libertus tuus Lycormas venturus esset, deinde quod ipse proficiscebar in diversam provinciae partem, ita officii necessitate exigente.
These things I thought should be brought to your notice, because I had recently written that Lycormas had asked that I detain any embassy, if any came from the Bosporus, until his arrival. For doing this longer, no plausible reason occurred to me — especially since the letters of Lycormas, which, as I said before, I was unwilling to detain, seemed likely to precede the legate from here by several days.
Haec in notitiam tuam perferenda existimavi, quia proxime scripseram petisse Lycormam, ut legationem, si qua venisset a Bosporo, usque in adventum suum retinerem. Quod diutius faciendi nulla mihi probabilis ratio occurrit, praesertim cum epistulae Lycormae, quas detinere, ut ante praedixi, nolui, aliquot diebus hinc legatum antecessurae viderentur.
When certain persons asked that I permit them to transfer the remains of their dead — whether on account of the injury of age, or on account of the river’s encroachment, and other things like these — to whatever place, following the example of the proconsuls: because I knew that in our city, in a case of this kind, the college of pontiffs is wont to be approached, I thought you, lord, the supreme pontiff, should be consulted what you would have me observe.
Petentibus quibusdam, ut sibi reliquias suorum aut propter iniuriam vetustatis aut propter fluminis incursum aliaque his similia quocumque secundum exemplum proconsulum transferre permitterem, quia sciebam in urbe nostra ex eius modi causa collegium pontificum adiri solere, te, domine, maximum pontificem consulendum putavi, quid observare me velis.
It is harsh to lay upon the provincials the necessity of approaching the pontiffs, if they wish to transfer the remains of their dead, for some just causes, from one place to another. You ought rather, then, to follow the examples of those who governed that province; and, as the cause of each is, so either permit or refuse.
Durum est iniungere necessitatem provincialibus pontificum adeundorum, si reliquias suorum propter aliquas iustas causas transferre ex loco in alium locum velint. Sequenda ergo potius tibi exempla sunt eorum, qui isti provinciae praefuerunt, et ut causa cuique, ita aut permittendum aut negandum.
As I was inquiring, lord, at Prusa, where the bath which you granted might be built, a site pleased me on which there once stood a house — beautiful, as I hear, but now deformed with ruins. For by this we shall achieve both that the most unsightly face of the city be adorned, and that the city itself be enlarged, with no buildings demolished, but those which have fallen through age restored to something better.
Quaerenti mihi, domine, Prusae ubi posset balineum quod indulsisti fieri, placuit locus in quo fuit aliquando domus, ut audio, pulchra, nunc deformis ruinis. Per hoc enim consequemur, ut foedissima facies civitatis ornetur, atque etiam ut ipsa civitas amplietur nec ulla aedificia tollantur, sed quae sunt vetustate sublapsa relaxentur in melius.
Now the condition of this house is such: Claudius Polyaenus had bequeathed it to Claudius Caesar, and ordered that in the peristyle a temple be made to him, and the rest of the house be let. From it the city received a revenue for some time; then, gradually, partly stripped, partly neglected, the whole house, peristyle and all, collapsed, and now almost nothing of it remains except the ground; which you, lord — whether you give it to the city or order it to be sold — it will receive as a supreme favor, on account of the suitableness of the place.
Est autem huius domus condicio talis: legaverat eam Claudius Polyaenus Claudio Caesari iussitque in peristylio templum ei fieri, reliqua ex domo locari. Ex ea reditum aliquamdiu civitas percepit; deinde paulatim partim spoliata, partim neglecta cum peristylio domus tota collapsa est, ac iam paene nihil ex ea nisi solum superest; quod tu, domine, sive donaveris civitati sive venire iusseris, propter opportunitatem loci pro summo munere accipiet.
I, if you permit, am thinking of setting the bath on the empty ground, and of embracing that place where the buildings stood with an exedra and porticoes, and consecrating it to you, by whose benefit an elegant work, worthy of your name, will be made.
Ego, si permiseris, cogito in area vacua balineum collocare, eum autem locum, in quo aedificia fuerunt, exedra et porticibus amplecti atque tibi consecrare, cuius beneficio elegans opus dignumque nomine tuo fiet.
A copy of the will, though faulty, I have sent you; from which you will learn that Polyaenus left many things for the adornment of that same house, which, like the house itself, have perished — yet by me, as far as it can be, they will be sought out.
Exemplar testamenti, quamquam mendosum, misi tibi; ex quo cognosces multa Polyaenum in eiusdem domus ornatum reliquisse, quae ut domus ipsa perierunt, a me tamen in quantum potuerit requirentur.
We can, among the Prusenses, use that ground with the collapsed house — which you write is vacant — for the building of the bath. But this you have expressed too little: whether a temple was made to Claudius in the peristyle. For, if it was made, even though it has collapsed, its sanctity has taken hold of the soil.
Possumus apud Prusenses area ista cum domo collapsa, quam vacare scribis, ad exstructionem balinei uti. Illud tamen parum expressisti, an aedes in peristylio Claudio facta esset. Nam, si facta est, licet collapsa sit, religio eius occupavit solum.
When certain persons demanded that, concerning the acknowledging of children and the restoring of birth-status, I myself should take cognizance — both according to a letter of Domitian written to Minicius Rufus, and according to the examples of the proconsuls — I looked back to a decree of the senate pertaining to the same kinds of cases, which speaks only of those provinces over which proconsuls preside; and therefore I deferred the matter whole, until you, lord, should direct what you would have me observe.
Postulantibus quibusdam, ut de agnoscendis liberis restituendisque natalibus et secundum epistulam Domitiani scriptam Minicio Rufo et secundum exempla proconsulum ipse cognoscerem, respexi ad senatus consultum pertinens ad eadem genera causarum, quod de iis tantum provinciis loquitur, quibus proconsules praesunt; ideoque rem integram distuli, dum tu, domine, praeceperis, quid observare me velis.
If you send me the decree of the senate which caused you hesitation, I will judge whether you ought to take cognizance of the acknowledging of children and the restoring of true birth-status.
Si mihi senatus consultum miseris quod haesitationem tibi fecit, aestimabo an debeas cognoscere de agnoscendis liberis et natalibus veris restituendis.
Appuleius, lord, a soldier who is at the post of Nicomedia, wrote to me that a certain man by the name of Callidromus, when he was being detained by Maximus and Dionysius, bakers to whom he had let out his labor, fled for refuge to your statue, and, brought before the magistrates, declared that he had once been a slave of Laberius Maximus, and had been captured by Susagus in Moesia, and sent as a gift by Decebalus to Pacorus, king of Parthia, and had been for several years in his service, then had fled, and so had come to Nicomedia.
Appuleius, domine, miles qui est in statione Nicomedensi, scripsit mihi quendam nomine Callidromum, cum detineretur a Maximo et Dionysio pistoribus, quibus operas suas locaverat, confugisse ad tuam statuam perductumque ad magistratus indicasse, servisse aliquando Laberio Maximo, captumque a Susago in Moesia et a Decibalo muneri missum Pacoro Parthiae regi, pluribusque annis in ministerio eius fuisse, deinde fugisse, atque ita in Nicomediam pervenisse.
Whom, brought before me, when he had told the same things, I thought should be sent to you; which I did a little more slowly, while I searched for a gem which, bearing on it the likeness of Pacorus and the array he had worn, the man said had been stolen from him.
Quem ego perductum ad me, cum eadem narrasset, mittendum ad te putavi; quod paulo tardius feci, dum requiro gemmam, quam sibi habentem imaginem Pacori et quibus ornatus fuisset subtractam indicabat.
For I wished to send this too, if it could be found, at the same time — just as I have sent a little lump which he said he had brought from a Parthian mine. It is sealed with my ring, whose device is a four-horse chariot.
Volui enim hanc quoque, si inveniri potuisset, simul mittere, sicut glebulam misi, quam se ex Parthico metallo attulisse dicebat. Signata est anulos meo, cuius est aposphragisma quadriga.
Julius Largus, lord, from Pontus — not yet seen by me, nor even heard of (he trusted, of course, to your judgment) — has entrusted to me a kind of stewardship and ministry of his devotion toward you.
Iulius, domine, Largus ex Ponto nondum mihi visus ac ne auditus quidem - scilicet iudicio tuo credidit - dispensationem quandam mihi erga te pietatis suae ministeriumque mandavit.
For he asked by his will that I enter upon and formally accept his inheritance, and then, after fifty thousand sesterces had been set aside, return all the rest to the communities of the Heracleots and the Tians, in such a way that it should be at my discretion whether I thought works should be made, to be consecrated to your honor, or quinquennial games established, to be called the Trajanic. This I thought should be brought to your notice, chiefly for this: that you might discern what I ought to choose.
Rogavit enim testamento, ut hereditatem suam adirem cerneremque, ac deinde praeceptis quinquaginta milibus nummum reliquum omne Heracleotarum et Tianorum civitatibus redderem, ita ut esset arbitrii mei utrum opera facienda, quae honori tuo consecrarentur, putarem an instituendos quinquennales agonas, qui Traiani appellarentur. Quod in notitiam tuam perferendum existimavi ob hoc maxime, ut dispiceres quid eligere debeam.
Julius Largus chose your good faith as if he knew you well. What, therefore, would best serve the perpetuity of his memory, according to the condition of each place, discern yourself; and what you judge best, that follow.
Iulius Largus fidem tuam quasi te bene nosset elegit. Quid ergo potissimum ad perpetuitatem memoriae eius faciat, secundum cuiusque loci condicionem ipse dispice et quod optimum existimaveris, id sequere.
Most providently, lord, you acted in directing Calpurnius Macer, a most illustrious man, to send a legionary centurion to Byzantium.
Providentissime, domine, fecisti, quod praecepisti Calpurnio Macro clarissimo viro, ut legionarium centurionem Byzantium mitteret.
Consider whether you think the Juliopolitans too should be provided for in a like manner; whose city, though it is very small, sustains the greatest burdens, and suffers injuries the heavier the weaker it is.
Dispice an etiam Iuliopolitanis simili ratione consulendum putes, quorum civitas, cum sit perexigua, onera maxima sustinet tantoque graviores iniurias quanto est infirmior patitur.
But whatever you grant to the Juliopolitans will profit the whole province too. For they are at the head of Bithynia, and afford passage to very many travelling through it.
Quidquid autem Iuliopolitanis praestiteris, id etiam toti provinciae proderit. Sunt enim in capite Bithyniae, plurimisque per eam commeantibus transitum praebent.
Such is the condition of the city of the Byzantines, with a crowd of travellers flowing into it from every side, that, according to the custom of preceding times, we judged that its dignities should be provided for by the protection of a legionary centurion.
Ea condicio est civitatis Byzantiorum confluente undique in eam commeantium turba, ut secundum consuetudinem praecedentium temporum honoribus eius praesidio centurionis legionarii consulendum habuerimus. Si
If we should think the Juliopolitans must be succored in the same way, we shall burden ourselves with the precedent; for the more, and the weaker they are, the more will seek the same. I have such confidence in your diligence as to believe that you will act by every means to ensure that they are not exposed to injuries.
Iuliopolitanis succurrendum eodem modo putaverimus, onerabimus nos exemplo; plures enim eo quanto infirmiores erunt idem petent. Fiduciam eam diligentiae tuae habeo, ut credam te omni ratione id acturum, ne sint obnoxii iniuriis.
But if any have conducted themselves against my discipline, let them be checked at once; or, if they have committed more than can be sufficiently punished on the spot, then, if they are soldiers, you will make known to their commanders what you have detected; or, if they are men about to come toward the city, you will write to me.
Si qui autem se contra disciplinam meam gesserint, statim coerceantur; aut, si plus admiserint quam ut in re praesenti satis puniantur, si milites erunt, legatis eorum quod deprehenderis notum facies aut, si in urbem versus venturi erunt, mihi scribes.
It is provided, lord, by the Pompeian law which was given to the Bithynians, that no one take a magistracy, nor be in the senate, who is younger than thirty years. By the same law it is laid down that those who have taken a magistracy be in the senate.
Cautum est, domine, Pompeia lege quae Bithynis data est, ne quis capiat magistratum neve sit in senatu minor annorum triginta. Eadem lege comprehensum est, ut qui ceperint magistratum sint in senatu.
Then followed an edict of the deified Augustus, by which he permitted the lesser magistracies to be taken from the age of twenty-two.
Secutum est dein edictum divi Augusti, quo permisit minores magistratus ab annis duobus et viginti capere.
The question, then, is whether one who has held a magistracy when younger than thirty years can be enrolled in the senate by the censors; and, if he can, whether those too who have not held it can, by the same interpretation, be enrolled as senators from that age at which it is permitted them to hold a magistracy — a thing which, besides, is said to have been habitually done up to now, and to be necessary, because it is somewhat better that the sons of honorable men, than men from the common people, be admitted into the council-house.
Quaeritur ergo an, qui minor triginta annorum gessit magistratum, possit a censoribus in senatum legi, et, si potest, an ii quoque, qui non gesserint, possint per eandem interpretationem ab ea aetate senatores legi, a qua illis magistratum gerere permissum est; quod alioqui factitatum adhuc et esse necessarium dicitur, quia sit aliquanto melius honestorum hominum liberos quam e plebe in curiam admitti.
I, when asked by the censors-designate what I thought, judged indeed that those who had held a magistracy when younger than thirty years could be enrolled in the senate, both according to the edict of Augustus and according to the Pompeian law — since Augustus had permitted magistracies to be held by those younger than thirty, and the law had willed that he who had held a magistracy be a senator.
Ego a destinatis censoribus quid sentirem interrogatus eos quidem, qui minores triginta annis gessissent magistratum, putabam posse in senatum et secundum edictum Augusti et secundum legem Pompeiam legi, quoniam Augustus gerere magistratus minoribus annis triginta permisisset, lex senatorem esse voluisset qui gessisset magistratum.
But about those who had not held it, although they were of the same age as those to whom it is permitted to hold one, I hesitated; whereby it came about that I consult you, lord, what you would have observed. The chief points of the law, and then the edict of Augustus, I have appended to my letter.
De iis autem qui non gessissent, quamvis essent aetatis eiusdem cuius illi quibus gerere permissum est, haesitabam; per quod effectum est ut te, domine, consulerem, quid observari velles. Capita legis, tum edictum Augusti litteris subieci.
Of your interpretation, my dear Secundus, I think the same: that the Pompeian law has been so far modified by the edict of the deified Augustus, that those could take a magistracy who were not less than twenty-two years old, and that those who had taken one should come into the senate of their respective city. But, a magistracy not having been taken, I do not think that those who are younger than thirty years can, because they are able to take a magistracy, be enrolled also into the council-house of their respective place.
Interpretationi tuae, mi Secunde carissime, idem existimo: hactenus edicto divi Augusti novatam esse legem Pompeiam, ut magistratum quidem capere possent ii, qui non minores duorum et viginti annorum essent, et qui cepissent, in senatum cuiusque civitatis pervenirent. Ceterum non capto magistratu eos, qui minores triginta annorum sint, quia magistratum capere possint, in curiam etiam loci cuiusque non existimo legi posse.
When at Prusa by Olympus, lord, I was at leisure from public business within my lodging, intending to leave that same day, the magistrate Asclepiades indicated that an appeal had been made to me by Claudius Eumolpus. For, when Cocceianus Dio wished a work, of which he had had charge, to be assigned to the city in the council, Eumolpus, standing by Flavius Archippus, said that an account of the work must be exacted from Dio before it was handed over to the commonwealth, because he had acted otherwise than he ought.
Cum Prusae ad Olympum, domine, publicis negotiis intra hospitium eodem die exiturus vacarem, Asclepiades magistratus indicavit appellatum me a Claudio Eumolpo. Cum Cocceianus Dion in bule assignari civitati opus cuius curam egerat vellet, tum Eumolpus assistens Flavio Archippo dixit exigendam esse a Dione rationem operis, ante quam rei publicae traderetur, quod aliter fecisset ac debuisset.
He added also that your statue, and the bodies of buried persons — Dio’s wife and son — were placed in the same spot; and he demanded that I take cognizance before the tribunal.
Adiecit etiam esse in eodem positam tuam statuam et corpora sepultorum, uxoris Dionis et filii, postulavitque ut cognoscerem pro tribunali.
When I had said that I would do this at once and would put off my departure, he asked that I give a longer day for building up his case, and that I take cognizance in another city.
Quod cum ego me protinus facturum dilaturumque profectionem dixissem, ut longiorem diem ad struendam causam darem utque in alia civitate cognoscerem petiit.
I answered that I would hear it at Nicaea. Where, when I had sat down to take cognizance, the same Eumolpus, as though still too little prepared, began to ask for a postponement; Dio, on the contrary, to demand that it be heard.
Ego me auditurum Nicaeae respondi. Ubi cum consedissem cogniturus, idem Eumolpus tamquam si adhuc parum instructus dilationem petere coepit, contra Dion ut audiretur exigere.
Many things were said on both sides, even about the case. I, since I judged that a postponement should be given and you should be consulted in a matter pertaining to precedent, told both parties to give memoranda of their demands. For I wished you to learn, preferably from their own words, the things that had been set forth.
Dicta sunt utrimque multa, etiam de causa. Ego cum dandam dilationem et te consulendum existimarem in re ad exemplum pertinenti, dixi utrique parti ut postulationum suarum libellos darent. Volebam enim te ipsorum potissimum verbis ea quae erant proposita cognoscere.
And Dio indeed said he would give one. Eumolpus answered that he would embrace in a memorandum what he sought on the commonwealth’s behalf; but that, as for what pertained to the buried, he was not an accuser but the advocate of Flavius Archippus, whose instructions he had carried out. Archippus, to whom Eumolpus, as at Prusias, was acting as assistant, said he would give a memorandum. But neither Eumolpus nor Archippus, though awaited very many days, have so far given me memoranda; Dio gave one, which I have joined to this letter.
Et Dion quidem se daturum dixit. Eumolpus respondit complexurum se libello quae rei publicae peteret, ceterum quod ad sepultos pertineret non accusatorem se sed advocatum Flavi Archippi, cuius mandata pertulisset. Archippus, cui Eumolpus sicut Prusiade assistebat, dixit se libellum daturum. At nec Eumolpus nec Archippus quam quam plurimis diebus exspectati adhuc mihi libellos dederunt; Dion dedit, quem huic epistulae iunxi.
I myself was on the spot, and saw your statue too placed in the library, and that in which the son and wife of Dio are said to be buried set in a court, which is enclosed by porticoes.
Ipse in re praesenti fui et vidi tuam quoque statuam in bibliotheca positam, id autem in quo dicuntur sepulti filius et uxor Dionis in area collocatum, quae porticibus includitur.
I ask you, lord, that you deign to guide me especially in this kind of cognizance — since, besides, there is great expectation, as there must be in a matter which both comes into open admission and is defended by precedents.
Te, domine, rogo ut me in hoc praecipue genere cognitionis regere digneris, cum alioqui magna sit exspectatio, ut necesse est in ea re quae et in confessum venit et exemplis defenditur.
You could have refrained from hesitating, my dear Secundus, about that on which you thought I should be consulted, since you knew my purpose excellently: that reverence for my name is not to be acquired from the fear and terror of men, or from charges of treason.
Potuisti non haerere, mi Secunde carissime, circa id de quo me consulendum existimasti, cum propositum meum optime nosses, non ex metu nec terrore hominum aut criminibus maiestatis reverentiam nomini meo acquiri.
That question being dropped, therefore — which I would not admit even if it were aided by precedents — let the account of the whole work, completed under the charge of Cocceianus Dio, be examined, since both the advantage of the city demands it, and Dio neither refuses nor ought to refuse.
Omissa ergo ea quaestione, quam non admitterem etiam si exemplis adiuvaretur, ratio totius operis effecti sub cura Cocceiani Dionis excutiatur, cum et utilitas civitatis exigat nec aut recuset Dion aut debeat recusare.
Being asked, lord, by the Nicaeans publicly — by those things which to me both are and ought to be most sacred, that is, by your eternity and safety — to convey their prayers to you, I did not think it right to refuse, and have joined to this letter the memorandum received from them.
Rogatus, domine, a Nicaeensibus publice per ea, quae mihi et sunt et debent esse sanctissima, id est per aeternitatem tuam salutemque, ut preces suas ad te perferrem, fas non putavi negare acceptumque ab iis libellum huic epistulae iunxi.
To the Nicaeans, who affirm that the claiming of the goods of their citizens who die intestate was granted them by the deified Augustus, you ought to give your attention — all the persons pertaining to that same business being brought together, and Virdius Gemellinus and Epimachus, my freedman, the procurators, being called in — so that, the things said on the other side being weighed too, you may decide what you believe best.
Nicaeensibus, qui intestatorum civium suorum concessam vindicationem bonorum a divo Augusto affirmant, debebis vacare contractis omnibus personis ad idem negotium pertinentibus, adhibitis Virdio Gemellino et Epimacho liberto meo procuratoribus, ut aestimatis etiam iis, quae contra dicuntur, quod optimum credideritis, statuatis.
Maximus, your freedman and procurator, lord, throughout all the time we were together I found honest and industrious and diligent, and — as most devoted to your interest, so most tenacious of discipline; and I gladly attend him before you with my testimony, in the good faith which I owe you.
Maximum libertum et procuratorem tuum, domine, per omne tempus, quo fuimus una, probum et industrium et diligentem ac sicut rei tuae amantissimum ita disciplinae tenacissimum expertus, libenter apud te testimonio prosequor, ea fide quam tibi debeo.
Gavius Bassus, lord, prefect of the Pontic coast, I have found upright, honest, industrious, and amid all this most respectful of me; and I attend him with my vote and my support alike, in the good faith which I owe you.
Gavium Bassum, domine, praefectum orae Ponticae integrum probum industrium atque inter ista reverentissimum mei expertus, voto pariter et suffragio prosequor, ea fide quam tibi debeo.
... than that which he might hope for, equipped as he is with service under you, to whose discipline he owes it that he is worthy of your indulgence. With me, both the soldiers and the civilians — by whom his justice and humanity have been thoroughly examined — have vied in bearing witness to him, privately and publicly. This I bring to your notice, in the good faith which I owe you.
... quam ea quae speret instructum commilitio tuo, cuius disciplinae debet, quod indulgentia tua dignus est. Apud me et milites et pagani, a quibus iustitia eius et humanitas penitus inspecta est, certatim ei qua privatim qua publice testimonium perhibuerunt. Quod in notitiam tuam perfero, ea fide quam tibi debeo.
Nymphidius Lupus, lord, I had as a fellow-soldier — a senior centurion — when I myself was a tribune and he a prefect: thence I began to love him as a friend. The affection grew afterward by the very age of our mutual friendship.
Nymphidium Lupum, domine, primipilarem commilitonem habui, cum ipse tribunus essem ille praefectus: inde familiariter diligere coepi. Crevit postea caritas ipsa mutuae vetustate amicitiae.
And so I laid a hand even on his repose and demanded that he equip me with counsel in Bithynia. Which he, most amicably, with the consideration of his ease and his old age set aside, both has done and will do.
Itaque et quieti eius inieci manum et exegi, ut me in Bithynia consilio instrueret. Quod ille amicissime et otii et senectutis ratione postposita et iam fecit et facturus est.
For which reasons I count his connections among my own — his son first of all, Nymphidius Lupus, a young man honest, industrious, and most worthy of his excellent father, who will answer to your indulgence, as you can learn from his first trials, since as prefect of a cohort he has earned the fullest testimonial of Julius Ferox and Fuscus Salinator, most illustrious men. You will crown my joy, lord, and my congratulation, by the son’s honor.
Quibus ex causis necessitudines eius inter meas numero, filium in primis, Nymphidium Lupum, iuvenem probum industrium et egregio patre dignissimum, suffecturum indulgentiae tuae, sicut primis eius experimentis cognoscere potes, cum praefectus cohortis plenissimum testimonium meruerit Iuli Ferocis et Fusci Salinatoris clarissimorum virorum. Meum gaudium, domine, meamque gratulationem filii honore cumulabis.
I pray, lord, that you may pass both this birthday and very many others as happily as may be, and that, flourishing in the eternal praise of your virtue, you may add to the glory of it... which, unharmed and strong, you will increase by works heaped one upon another.
Opto, domine, et hunc natalem et plurimos alios quam felicissimos agas aeternaque laude florentem virtutis tuae gloriam... quam incolumis et fortis aliis super alia operibus augebis.
I acknowledge your vows, my dear Secundus, by which you pray that I may pass very many and most happy birthdays, with the state of our commonwealth flourishing.
Agnosco vota tua, mi Secunde carissime, quibus precaris, ut plurimos et felicissimos natales florente statu rei publicae nostrae agam.
The Sinopeans, lord, are short of water; which seems able to be brought, both good and abundant, from the sixteenth milestone. There is, however, right at the source, for a little more than a thousand paces, a suspect and soft stretch of ground, which I have meanwhile ordered to be explored, at modest expense, to see whether it can receive and sustain the work.
Sinopenses, domine, aqua deficiuntur; quae videtur et bona et copiosa ab sexto decimo miliario posse perduci. Est tamen statim ab capite paulo amplius passus mille locus suspectus et mollis, quem ego interim explorari modico impendio iussi, an recipere et sustinere opus possit.
Money, with us seeing to it, will not be lacking, once raised, if you, lord, indulge this kind of work to the healthfulness and the pleasantness of a sorely thirsting colony.
Pecunia curantibus nobis contracta non deerit, si tu, domine, hoc genus operis et salubritati et amoenitati valde sitientis coloniae indulseris.
As you have begun, dearest Secundus, explore diligently whether that place which you hold suspect can sustain the work of the aqueduct. Nor do I think it should be doubted that water must be brought into the colony of Sinope, if only it can attain it by its own resources, since that matter will contribute very much both to its healthfulness and its pleasure.
Ut coepisti, Secunde carissime, explora diligenter, an locus ille quem suspectum habes sustinere opus aquae ductus possit. Neque dubitandum puto, quin aqua perducenda sit in coloniam Sinopensem, si modo et viribus suis assequi potest, cum plurimum ea res et salubritati et voluptati eius collatura sit.
The city of the Amiseni — free and federated by the benefit of your indulgence — uses its own laws. In it a petition was given me, pertaining to benefit-societies, which I have appended to this letter, so that you, lord, might discern what, and to what extent, you would think should be permitted or prohibited.
Amisenorum civitas libera et foederata beneficio indulgentiae tuae legibus suis utitur. In hac datum mihi libellum ad ’epanous’ pertinentem his litteris subieci, ut tu, domine, dispiceres quid et quatenus aut permittendum aut prohibendum putares.
The Amiseni, whose petition you had joined to your letter — if it is permitted, by the laws of those people which they enjoy by the benefit of their treaty, to have a benefit-society, we can refrain from preventing them from having one; the more easily if they use such a contribution not for riots and unlawful assemblies, but for sustaining the want of the poorer sort. In the other cities, which are bound by our law, a thing of this kind must be prohibited.
Amisenos, quorum libellum epistulae tuae iunxeras, si legibus istorum, quibus beneficio foederis utuntur, concessum est eranum habere, possumus quo minus habeant non impedire, eo facilius si tali collatione non ad turbas et ad illicitos coetus, sed ad sustinendam tenuiorum inopiam utuntur. In ceteris civitatibus, quae nostro iure obstrictae sunt, res huius modi prohibenda est.
Suetonius Tranquillus — a most honest, most honorable, most learned man, whose character and whose pursuits I have followed — I have long since, lord, taken into my close companionship, and I have begun to love him the more, the more closely I have now inspected him.
Suetonium Tranquillum, probissimum honestissimum eruditissimum virum, et mores eius secutus et studia iam pridem, domine, in contubernium assumpsi, tantoque magis diligere coepi quanto nunc propius inspexi.
For him two causes make the right of three children necessary: for he both earns the good opinions of his friends, and has experienced a marriage too little fortunate; and what the malignity of fortune has denied him, he must obtain, through us, from your goodness.
Huic ius trium liberorum necessarium faciunt duae causae; nam et iudicia amicorum promeretur et parum felix matrimonium expertus est, impetrandumque a bonitate tua per nos habet quod illi fortunae malignitas denegavit.
I know, lord, how great a benefit I ask; but I ask it of you, whose indulgence I experience in all my desires. For you can gather how greatly I desire it, since I would not ask it in absence, if I desired it only moderately.
Scio, domine, quantum beneficium petam, sed peto a te cuius in omnibus desideriis meis indulgentiam experior. Potes enim colligere quanto opere cupiam, quod non rogarem absens si mediocriter cuperem.
How sparingly I grant these benefits surely sticks with you, my dear Secundus, since even in the senate I am wont to affirm that I have not exceeded the number which I professed, before the most august order, would suffice me. Yet to your desire I have subscribed, and have ordered it entered in my records that I have given the right of three children to Suetonius Tranquillus, on the condition to which I am accustomed.
Quam parce haec beneficia tribuam, utique, mi Secunde carissime, haeret tibi, cum etiam in senatu affirmare soleam non excessisse me numerum, quem apud amplissimum ordinem suffecturum mihi professus sum. Tuo tamen desiderio subscripsi et dedisse me ius trium liberorum Suetonio Tranquillo ea condicione, qua assuevi, referri in commentarios meos iussi.
It is my custom, lord, to refer to you all things about which I am in doubt. For who can better either guide my hesitation or instruct my ignorance? I have never been present at trials of the Christians: and so I do not know what, or to what extent, is wont either to be punished or to be inquired into.
Sollemne est mihi, domine, omnia de quibus dubito ad te referre. Quis enim potest melius vel cunctationem meam regere vel ignorantiam instruere? Cognitionibus de Christianis interfui numquam: ideo nescio quid et quatenus aut puniri soleat aut quaeri.
And I have hesitated not a little whether there is any distinction of ages, or whether the very tender differ in nothing from the more robust; whether pardon be given for repentance, or whether it profit nothing for one who has been altogether a Christian to have ceased; whether the name itself, if it be free of crimes, or the crimes attaching to the name, be punished. Meanwhile, in the case of those who were brought before me as Christians, I have followed this method.
Nec mediocriter haesitavi, sitne aliquod discrimen aetatum, an quamlibet teneri nihil a robustioribus differant; detur paenitentiae venia, an ei, qui omnino Christianus fuit, desisse non prosit; nomen ipsum, si flagitiis careat, an flagitia cohaerentia nomini puniantur. Interim, in iis qui ad me tamquam Christiani deferebantur, hunc sum secutus modum.
I asked them themselves whether they were Christians. Those confessing, I asked a second and a third time, threatening punishment; those persevering, I ordered to be led off. For I did not doubt that, whatever it might be that they confessed, their stubbornness at any rate and inflexible obstinacy ought to be punished.
Interrogavi ipsos an essent Christiani. Confitentes iterum ac tertio interrogavi supplicium minatus; perseverantes duci iussi. Neque enim dubitabam, qualecumque esset quod faterentur, pertinaciam certe et inflexibilem obstinationem debere puniri.
There were others of like madness whom, because they were Roman citizens, I noted down to be sent back to the city.
Fuerunt alii similis amentiae, quos, quia cives Romani erant, adnotavi in urbem remittendos.
Soon, in the very handling of it, as commonly happens, the charge spreading wider, more forms of it occurred. An anonymous document was put forward, containing the names of many. Those who denied that they were, or had been, Christians — when, with me leading the words, they called upon the gods and made supplication with incense and wine to your image, which I had ordered to be brought for this very purpose along with the statues of the gods, and besides reviled Christ (to none of which things, it is said, can those who are truly Christians be compelled) — I thought should be dismissed.
Propositus est libellus sine auctore multorum nomina continens. Qui negabant esse se Christianos aut fuisse, cum praeeunte me deos appellarent et imagini tuae, quam propter hoc iusseram cum simulacris numinum afferri, ture ac vino supplicarent, praeterea male dicerent Christo, quorum nihil cogi posse dicuntur qui sunt re vera Christiani, dimittendos putavi.
Others, named by an informer, said that they were Christians and soon denied it; they had been, indeed, but had ceased — some three years before, some many years before, a few even twenty years before. These too all venerated both your image and the statues of the gods, and reviled Christ.
Alii ab indice nominati esse se Christianos dixerunt et mox negaverunt; fuisse quidem sed desisse, quidam ante triennium, quidam ante plures annos, non nemo etiam ante viginti. Hi quoque omnes et imaginem tuam deorumque simulacra venerati sunt et Christo male dixerunt.
But they affirmed that this had been the sum either of their fault or of their error: that they had been accustomed to come together on a fixed day before dawn, and to sing a hymn to Christ as to a god, by turns among themselves, and to bind themselves by an oath — not to any crime, but that they would not commit thefts, nor robberies, nor adulteries, that they would not break their word, nor deny a deposit when called upon to return it. When these things were done, it had been their custom to depart, and to come together again to take food — but ordinary and harmless food; which very thing they had ceased to do after my edict, by which, according to your instructions, I had forbidden political clubs to exist.
Affirmabant autem hanc fuisse summam vel culpae suae vel erroris, quod essent soliti stato die ante lucem convenire, carmenque Christo quasi deo dicere secum invicem seque sacramento non in scelus aliquod obstringere, sed ne furta ne latrocinia ne adulteria committerent, ne fidem fallerent, ne depositum appellati abnegarent. Quibus peractis morem sibi discedendi fuisse rursusque coeundi ad capiendum cibum, promiscuum tamen et innoxium; quod ipsum facere desisse post edictum meum, quo secundum mandata tua hetaerias esse vetueram.
Wherefore I believed it the more necessary to inquire, even through torture, what the truth was, from two slave-women, who were called deaconesses. I found nothing other than a depraved and immoderate superstition.
Quo magis necessarium credidi ex duabus ancillis, quae ministrae dicebantur, quid esset veri, et per tormenta quaerere. Nihil aliud inveni quam superstitionem pravam et immodicam.
And so, having deferred the trial, I hastened to consult you. For the matter seemed to me worthy of consultation, especially on account of the number of those in peril. For many of every age, of every rank, of both sexes too, are being called into danger, and will be called. Nor has the contagion of this superstition pervaded the cities only, but the villages and the countryside too; yet it seems able to be checked and corrected.
Ideo dilata cognitione ad consulendum te decucurri. Visa est enim mihi res digna consultatione, maxime propter periclitantium numerum. Multi enim omnis aetatis, omnis ordinis, utriusque sexus etiam vocantur in periculum et vocabuntur. Neque civitates tantum, sed vicos etiam atque agros superstitionis istius contagio pervagata est; quae videtur sisti et corrigi posse.
At least it is well enough established that the temples, now almost desolate, have begun to be thronged again, and the long-intermitted solemn rites to be resumed, and that fodder for the victims, for which up to now a buyer was very rarely found, is finding sale everywhere. From which it is easy to judge what a multitude of men can be reformed, if there be a place for repentance.
Certe satis constat prope iam desolata templa coepisse celebrari, et sacra sollemnia diu intermissa repeti passimque venire carnem victimarum, cuius adhuc rarissimus emptor inveniebatur. Ex quo facile est opinari, quae turba hominum emendari possit, si sit paenitentiae locus.
You have followed, my dear Secundus, the procedure which you ought, in examining the cases of those who had been brought before you as Christians. For nothing can be established universally that would have, as it were, a fixed form.
Actum quem debuisti, mi Secunde, in excutiendis causis eorum, qui Christiani ad te delati fuerant, secutus es. Neque enim in universum aliquid, quod quasi certam formam habeat, constitui potest.
They are not to be sought out; if they are brought before you and convicted, they must be punished — yet in such a way that he who denies that he is a Christian, and makes this plain by the act itself, that is, by supplicating our gods, however suspect he may have been in regard to the past, may obtain pardon from his repentance. But documents put forward anonymously ought to have no place in any charge. For it is both of the worst precedent, and not of our age.
Conquirendi non sunt; si deferantur et arguantur, puniendi sunt, ita tamen ut, qui negaverit se Christianum esse idque re ipsa manifestum fecerit, id est supplicando dis nostris, quamvis suspectus in praeteritum, veniam ex paenitentia impetret. Sine auctore vero propositi libelli in nullo crimine locum habere debent. Nam et pessimi exempli nec nostri saeculi est.
The city of the Amastrians, lord — both elegant and adorned — has among its chief works a most beautiful and likewise very long boulevard; along the whole length of one side of which there stretches what is in name indeed a stream, but in truth a most foul sewer, which, as it is repulsive to the eye by its filthiness, so it is pestilent by its most loathsome smell.
Amastrianorum civitas, domine, et elegans et ornata habet inter praecipua opera pulcherrimam eandemque longissimam plateam; cuius a latere per spatium omne porrigitur nomine quidem flumen, re vera cloaca foedissima, ac sicut turpis immundissimo aspectu, ita pestilens odore taeterrimo.
For which reasons it is no less a matter of healthfulness than of seemliness that it be covered over; which will be done, if you permit — with us seeing to it that money not be lacking for a work as great as it is necessary.
Quibus ex causis non minus salubritatis quam decoris interest eam contegi; quod fiet si permiseris curantibus nobis, ne desit quoque pecunia operi tam magno quam necessario.
It is reasonable, my dear Secundus, that that water which flows through the city of the Amastrians be covered over, if, uncovered, it harms the healthfulness. That money not be lacking for this work, I hold for certain that you, according to your diligence, will see to.
Rationis est, mi Secunde carissime, contegi aquam istam, quae per civitatem Amastrianorum fluit, si intecta salubritati obest. Pecunia ne huic operi desit, curaturum te secundum diligentiam tuam certum habeo.
The vows, lord, pronounced in the previous year, we have discharged eagerly and gladly, and have again undertaken new ones, with the devotion of the soldiers and the provincials vying, praying the gods that they keep you and the commonwealth flourishing and unharmed, with that benignity which, above your great and very many virtues, you have earned by your singular holiness, your obedience, and your honoring of the gods.
Vota, domine, priore anno nuncupata alacres laetique persolvimus novaque rursus certante commilitonum et provincialium pietate suscepimus, precati deos ut te remque publicam florentem et incolumem ea benignitate servarent, quam super magnas plurimasque virtutes praecipua sanctitate obsequio deorum honore meruisti.
That the soldiers, together with the provincials, with you leading, have discharged their vows to the immortal gods for my safety, with the gladdest consent, and pronounced them for the future, I have learned with pleasure, my dear Secundus, from your letter.
Solvisse vota dis immortalibus te praeeunte pro mea incolumitate commilitones cum provincialibus laetissimo consensu et in futurum nuncupasse libenter, mi Secunde carissime, cognovi litteris tuis.
The day on which the guardianship of the human race was transferred to you, by a most fortunate succession, we have celebrated with the due reverence, commending to the gods, the authors of your empire, both the public vows and the public joys.
Diem, quo in te tutela generis humani felicissima successione translata est, debita religione celebravimus, commendantes dis imperii tui auctoribus et vota publica et gaudia.
The day of my accession, celebrated by the soldiers and the provincials, with you leading, with due gladness and reverence, I have learned of with pleasure from your letter.
Diem imperii mei debita laetitia et religione commilitonibus et provincialibus praeeunte te celebratum libenter cognovi litteris tuis.
Valerius Paulinus, lord, has left me — Paulinus excepted — the right over his Latins; of whom I ask that you give, for the present, to three the right of the Quirites. For I fear it may be excessive to invoke your indulgence for all alike — which I ought to use the more modestly, the more fully I experience it. Those for whom I ask are: Gaius Valerius Astraeus, Gaius Valerius Dionysius, Gaius Valerius Aper.
Valerius, domine, Paulinus excepto Paulino ius Latinorum suorum mihi reliquit; ex quibus rogo tribus interim ius Quiritium des. Vereor enim, ne sit immodicum pro omnibus pariter invocare indulgentiam tuam, qua debeo tanto modestius uti, quanto pleniorem experior. Sunt autem pro quibus peto: C. Valerius Astraeus, C. Valerius Dionysius, C. Valerius Aper.
Since you wish most honorably that provision be made, in good time through me, for those who were entrusted to your good faith by Valerius Paulinus, I have ordered it to be entered in my records that I have meanwhile given the right of the Quirites to those for whom you have now asked — and I will do the same in the case of the rest, for whom you shall ask.
Cum honestissime iis, qui apud fidem tuam a Valerio Paulino depositi sunt, consultum velis mature per me, iis interim, quibus nunc petisti, dedisse me ius Quiritium referri in commentarios meos iussi idem facturus in ceteris, pro quibus petieris.
Being asked, lord, by Publius Accius Aquila, a centurion of the sixth mounted cohort, that I send you a petition through which he implores your indulgence on behalf of his daughter’s status, I thought it harsh to refuse, since I knew how great a patience and humanity you are wont to show to the prayers of soldiers.
Rogatus, domine, a P. Accio Aquila, centurione cohortis sextae equestris, ut mitterem tibi libellum per quem indulgentiam pro statu filiae suae implorat, durum putavi negare, cum scirem quantam soleres militum precibus patientiam humanitatemque praestare.
The petition of Publius Accius Aquila, centurion of the sixth mounted cohort, which you sent me, I have read; moved by his prayers, I have given his daughter the Roman citizenship. The petition, with my reply written upon it, which you may return to him, I have sent you.
Libellum P. Accii Aquilae, centurionis sextae equestris, quem mihi misisti, legi; cuius precibus motus dedi filiae eius civitatem Romanam. Libellum rescriptum, quem illi redderes, misi tibi.
What right you wish both the Bithynian and the Pontic cities to have in exacting the moneys which are owed them — whether from leases, or from sales, or from other causes — I ask, lord, that you write back. I have found that by most proconsuls there was granted them a priority of claim, and that it held the force of law.
Quid habere iuris velis et Bithynas et Ponticas civitates in exigendis pecuniis, quae illis vel ex locationibus vel ex venditionibus aliisve causis debeantur, rogo, domine, rescribas. Ego inveni a plerisque proconsulibus concessam iis protopraxian eamque pro lege valuisse.
I think, however, that by your foresight something should be established and sanctioned, by which provision may be made for their interests in perpetuity. For the things established by them, though they be wisely granted, are nonetheless brief and weak, unless your authority attaches to them.
Existimo tamen tua providentia constituendum aliquid et sanciendum per quod utilitatibus eorum in perpetuum consulatur. Nam quae sunt ab illis instituta, sint licet sapienter indulta, brevia tamen et infirma sunt, nisi illis tua contingit auctoritas.
What right the Bithynian or Pontic cities ought to use in those moneys which, from whatever cause, shall be owed to the commonwealth, must be considered from the law of each. For, whether they have a privilege by which they are set before other creditors, it must be preserved; or whether they have not, it will not be proper for it to be given by me to the injury of private persons.
Quo iure uti debeant Bithynae vel Ponticae civitates in iis pecuniis, quae ex quaque causa rei publicae debebuntur, ex lege cuiusque animadvertendum est. Nam, sive habent privilegium, quo ceteris creditoribus anteponantur, custodiendum est, sive non habent, in iniuriam privatorum id dari a me non oportebit.
The advocate, lord, of the city of the Amiseni was claiming before me, from Julius Piso, about forty thousand denarii given him publicly twenty years ago, with the council and the assembly consenting; and he was using your instructions, by which donations of this kind are forbidden.
Ecdicus, domine, Amisenorum civitatis petebat apud me a Iulio Pisone denariorum circiter quadraginta milia donata ei publice ante viginti annos bule et ecclesia consentiente, utebaturque mandatis tuis, quibus eius modi donationes vetantur.
Piso, on the contrary, said that he had contributed very many things to the commonwealth, and had spent almost his whole fortune. He added also the lapse of time, and demanded that he not be forced to repay — with the overthrow of the rest of his dignity — what he had received long ago and for many services. For which reasons I thought the cognizance, entire, should be deferred, so that I might consult you, lord, what you thought should be followed.
Piso contra plurima se in rem publicam contulisse ac prope totas facultates erogasse dicebat. Addebat etiam temporis spatium postulabatque, ne id, quod pro multis et olim accepisset, cum eversione reliquae dignitatis reddere cogeretur. Quibus ex causis integram cognitionem differendam existimavi, ut te, domine, consulerem, quid sequendum putares.
As the instructions forbid largesses to be made from public funds, so, lest the security of many be undermined, those made some time ago ought not to be raked up and annulled. Whatever, then, was done from this cause more than twenty years ago, let us pass over. For I wish provision to be made no less for the men of each place than for the public money.
Sicut largitiones ex publico fieri mandata prohibent, ita, ne multorum securitas subruatur, factas ante aliquantum temporis retractari atque in irritum vindicari non oportet. Quidquid ergo ex hac causa actum ante viginti annos erit, omittamus. Non minus enim hominibus cuiusque loci quam pecuniae publicae consultum volo.
The Pompeian law, lord, which the Bithynians and the Pontics use, does not order those who are enrolled into the council by the censors to give money; but those whom your indulgence permitted to be added, in certain cities, beyond the lawful number, have paid in both single thousands of denarii and double.
Lex Pompeia, domine, qua Bithyni et Pontici utuntur, eos, qui in bulen a censoribus leguntur, dare pecuniam non iubet; sed ii, quos indulgentia tua quibusdam civitatibus super legitimum numerum adicere permisit, et singula milia denariorum et bina intulerunt.
Then Anicius Maximus, the proconsul, ordered those too who were enrolled by the censors — but only in very few cities — to pay in, some one sum, others another.
Anicius deinde Maximus proconsul eos etiam, qui a censoribus legerentur, dumtaxat in paucissimis civitatibus aliud aliis iussit inferre.
It remains, then, that you yourself discern whether, in all the cities, all who shall thereafter be enrolled as councillors ought to give something fixed for their entrance. For what is to remain in perpetuity, it is fitting that it be established by you, to whose deeds and words eternity is owed.
Superest ergo, ut ipse dispicias, an in omnibus civitatibus certum aliquid omnes, qui deinde buleutae legentur, debeant pro introitu dare. Nam, quod in perpetuum mansurum est, a te constitui decet, cuius factis dictisque debetur aeternitas.
Whether all who become decurions in each city of Bithynia ought to pay an entrance-fee for the decurionate or not, cannot be settled universally by me. That, then, which is always safest, I think — that the law of each city be followed; but, more truly, I judge that those who are made decurions by invitation will act so as to be set before the rest by their contribution.
Honorarium decurionatus omnes, qui in quaque civitate Bithyniae decuriones fiunt, inferre debeant necne, in universum a me non potest statui. Id ergo, quod semper tutissimum est, sequendam cuiusque civitatis legem puto, sed verius eos, qui invitati fiunt decuriones, id existimo acturos, ut praestatione ceteris praeferantur.
By the Pompeian law, lord, it is permitted to the Bithynian cities to enroll as their own citizens whomever they wish, provided it be none of those cities which are in Bithynia. By the same law it is sanctioned for what causes men may be ejected from the senate by the censors.
Lege, domine, Pompeia permissum Bithynicis civitatibus ascribere sibi quos vellent cives, dum ne quem earum civitatium, quae sunt in Bithynia. Eadem lege sancitur, quibus de causis e senatu a censoribus eiciantur.
Hence certain of the censors thought I should be consulted whether they ought to eject one who was a citizen of another city.
Inde me quidam ex censoribus consulendum putaverunt, an eicere deberent eum qui esset alterius civitatis.
I, because the law — just as it forbade an alien citizen to be enrolled — so did not order ejection from the senate for this cause; and besides, because it was affirmed to me that in every city there are very many councillors from other cities, and that it would come about that many men and many cities would be shaken by that part of the law which had long since fallen out of use by a kind of common consent: I judged it necessary to consult you, what you thought should be observed. The chief points of the law I have appended to this letter.
Ego quia lex sicut ascribi civem alienum vetabat, ita eici e senatu ob hanc causam non iubebat, praeterea, quod affirmabatur mihi in omni civitate plurimos esse buleutas ex aliis civitatibus, futurumque ut multi homines multaeque civitates concuterentur ea parte legis, quae iam pridem consensu quodam exolevisset, necessarium existimavi consulere te, quid servandum putares. Capita legis his litteris subieci.
With reason you hesitated, dearest Secundus, what ought to be written back by you to the censors consulting you — whether those who, citizens of other cities yet of the same province, ought to remain in the senate. For both the authority of the law, and a long custom practiced against the law, could move you in opposite directions. To me this tempering of it has seemed good: that from the past we change nothing, but that those enrolled — though against the law — as citizens of whatever cities, remain; for the future, however, that the Pompeian law be observed. Of which, if we should wish to keep the force retroactively too, many things must necessarily be thrown into confusion.
Merito haesisti, Secunde carissime, quid a te rescribi oporteret censoribus consulentibus, an manere deberent in senatu aliarum civitatium, eiusdem tamen provinciae cives. Nam et legis auctoritas et longa consuetudo usurpata contra legem in diversum movere te potuit. Mihi hoc temperamentum eius placuit, ut ex praeterito nihil novaremus, sed manerent quamvis contra legem asciti quarumcumque civitatium cives, in futurum autem lex Pompeia observaretur; cuius vim si retro quoque velimus custodire, multa necesse est perturbari.
Those who assume the toga of manhood, or make a marriage, or enter upon a magistracy, or dedicate a public work, are accustomed to invite the whole council, and even a not inconsiderable number from the common people, and to give two denarii each, or one. Whether you think this should be kept up, and to what extent, I ask that you write.
Qui virilem togam sumunt vel nuptias faciunt vel ineunt magistratum vel opus publicum dedicant, solent totam bulen atque etiam e plebe non exiguum numerum vocare binosque denarios vel singulos dare. Quod an celebrandum et quatenus putes, rogo scribas.
For I myself, as I judge — especially on solemn occasions — think this right of invitation should be allowed; yet I fear that those who invite a thousand men, sometimes even more, may seem to exceed measure and fall into the appearance of a distribution.
Ipse enim, sicut arbitror, praesertim ex sollemnibus causis, concedendum ius istud invitationis, ita vereor ne ii qui mille homines, interdum etiam plures vocant, modum excedere et in speciem διανομῆς incidere videantur.
With reason you fear lest the invitation fall into the appearance of a distribution, which both exceeds measure in number, and gathers — as if by corporations, not man by man from acquaintance — to the solemn doles. But I chose your prudence for this very purpose: that you yourself should set the measure, in forming the manners of that province, and establish those things which would conduce to the perpetual quiet of that province.
Merito vereris, ne in speciem διανομῆς incidat invitatio, quae et in numero modum excedit et quasi per corpora, non viritim singulos ex notitia ad sollemnes sportulas contrahit. Sed ego ideo prudentiam tuam elegi, ut formandis istius provinciae moribus ipse moderareris et ea constitueres, quae ad perpetuam eius provinciae quietem essent profutura.
The athletes, lord, think that what you established for the iselastic contests is owed them from the very day on which they were crowned; for it makes no difference, they say, when they made their entry into their fatherland, but when they won in the contest, from which they are able to make the entry. I, on the contrary, write “under the name of iselastic”; and so I am strongly in doubt whether the time rather to be regarded is that on which they made their entry.
Athletae, domine, ea quae pro iselasticis certaminibus constituisti, deberi sibi putant statim ex eo die, quo sunt coronati; nihil enim referre, quando sint patriam invecti, sed quando certamine vicerint, ex quo invehi possint. Ego contra scribo ’iselastici nomine’: itaque eorum vehementer addubitem an sit potius id tempus, quo εἰσήλασαν intuendum.
The same men seek the provisions for that contest which was made iselastic by you, although they won before it became so. For they say it is consistent that, just as it is not given them for those contests which ceased to be iselastic after they won, so it should be given for those which began to be so.
Iidem obsonia petunt pro eo agone, qui a te iselasticus factus est, quamvis vicerint ante quam fieret. Aiunt enim congruens esse, sicut non detur sibi pro iis certaminibus, quae esse iselastica postquam vicerunt desierunt, ita pro iis dari quae esse coeperunt.
Here too I am not a little stuck, lest account be taken retroactively for anyone, and there be given what was not owed at the time when they won. I ask, then, that you deign to guide my doubt — that is, to interpret your own benefits.
Hic quoque non mediocriter haereo, ne cuiusquam retro habeatur ratio dandumque, quod tunc cum vincerent non debebatur. Rogo ergo, ut dubitationem meam regere, id est beneficia tua interpretari ipse digneris.
The iselastic pension seems to me to begin to be owed only then, when someone has himself made his entry into his city. The provisions of those contests which I decided should be iselastic, if they were not iselastic before, are not owed retroactively. Nor can it avail the athletes’ desire that they ceased to receive, for those which I afterward decided should not be iselastic, after they won. For, the condition of the contests being changed, what they had received before is nonetheless not recalled.
Iselasticum tunc primum mihi videtur incipere deberi, cum quis in civitatem suam ipse εἰσήλασεν. Obsonia eorum certaminum, quae iselastica esse placuit mihi, si ante iselastica non fuerunt, retro non debentur. Nec proficere pro desiderio athletarum potest, quod eorum, quae postea iselastica non esse constitui, quam vicerunt, accipere desierunt. Mutata enim condicione certaminum nihilo minus, quae ante perceperant, non revocantur.
Up to this time, lord, I have neither lent travel-warrants to anyone, nor sent them on any business but yours. A certain necessity has broken this perpetual observance of mine.
Usque in hoc tempus, domine, neque cuiquam diplomata commodavi neque in rem ullam nisi tuam misi. Quam perpetuam servationem meam quaedam necessitas rupit.
For to my wife, when she had heard of her grandfather’s death and wished to hasten to her aunt, I thought it harsh to deny their use, since the grace of such a duty consisted in speed, and I knew that you would approve the reason of the journey, whose cause was family devotion. These things I have written you, because I seemed to myself too little grateful if I should disguise that, among your other benefits, I owe this one too to your indulgence: that, trusting in it, I did not hesitate to do, as if by consultation, what — had I consulted you — I should have done too late.
Uxori enim meae audita morte avi volenti ad amitam suam excurrere usum eorum negare durum putavi, cum talis officii gratia in celeritate consisteret, sciremque te rationem itineris probaturum, cuius causa erat pietas. Haec tibi scripsi, quia mihi parum gratus fore videbar, si dissimulassem inter alia beneficia hoc unum quoque me debere indulgentiae tuae, quod fiducia eius quasi consulto te non dubitavi facere, quem si consuluissem, sero fecissem.
With reason, dearest Secundus, you had confidence in my disposition; nor would there have been any need to doubt — even if you had waited until you consulted me — whether the journey of your wife should be aided by the warrants which I gave to your office, since your wife ought, at her aunt’s, to increase by speed too the grace of her arrival.
Merito habuisti, Secunde carissime, fiduciam animi mei nec dubitandum fuisset, si exspectasses donec me consuleres, an iter uxoris tuae diplomatibus, quae officio tuo dedi, adiuvandum esset, cum apud amitam suam uxor tua deberet etiam celeritate gratiam adventus sui augere.

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