exsequar, ut me aeque tibi ac fratri et liberis nostris restitutum putes. Si quid in te peccavi ac potius quoniam peccavi, ignosce; in me enim ipsum peccavi vehementius. Neque haec eo scribo, quo te non meo casu maximo dolore esse adfectum sciam, sed profecto, si, quantum me amas et amasti, tantum amare deberes ac debuisses, numquam esses passus me, quo tu abundabas, egere consilio nec esses passus mihi persuaderi utile nobis esse legem de collegiis perferri. Sed tu tantum lacrimas praebuisti dolori meo, quod erat amoris, tamquam ipse ego; quod meritis meis perfectum potuit, ut dies et noctes, quid mihi faciendum esset, cogitares, id abs te meo, non tuo scelere praetermissum est. Quodsi non modo tu, sed quisquam fuisset, qui me Pompei minus liberali responso perterritum a turpissimo consilio revocaret, quod unus tu facere maxime potuisti, aut occubuissem honeste, aut victores hodie viveremus. Hic mihi ignosces; me enim ipsum multo magis accuso, deinde te quasi me alterum et simul meae culpae socium quaero. Ac, si restituor, etiam minus videbimur deliquisse abs teque certe, quoniam nullo nostro, tuo ipsius beneficio diligemur.
should have been, I will be so persistent with them, that you shall feel that I have been restored to you quite as much as to my brother and children. If ever I have wronged you or rather for the wrongs that I have done you, forgive me. I have wronged myself far more deeply. I do not write this in ignorance of your great grief at my misfortune, but because, if I had earned a right to all the affection you lavish and have lavished on me, you would never have suffered me to stand in need of that sound common sense of yours, and you would not have let me be persuaded that it was to my interest to let the bill about the guilds[[101]] be passed. But you, like myself, only gave your tears to my distress, as a tribute of affection: and it was my fault, not yours, that you did not devote day and night to pondering on the course I should take, as you might have done, if my claims on you had been stronger. If you or anyone had dissuaded me from the disgraceful resolve I formed in my alarm at Pompey’s ungenerous reply,—and you were the person best qualified to do so—I should either have died with honour, or should to-day be living in triumph. You will pardon what I have said. I am blaming myself far more than you, and you only as my second self, and because I want a companion in my guilt. If I am restored, our common guilt will seem far less, and you, at any rate, will hold me dear for services rendered, not received, by you.
[101]. The Collegia were guilds for social, mercantile, or religious purposes. A decree had declared some of them illegal in 64 B.C.; but this was counteracted by a bill passed by Clodius in 58 B.C. The result was many new guilds were formed, which he used for political purposes.
Quod te cum Culleone scribis de privilegio locutum, est aliquid, sed multo est melius abrogari. Si enim nemo impediet, sic est firmius; sin erit, qui ferri non sinat, idem senatus consulto intercedet. Nec quicquam aliud opus est abrogari; nam prior lex nos nihil laedebat. Quam si, ut est promulgata, laudare voluissemus, aut, ut erat neglegenda, neglegere, nocere omnino nobis non potuisset. Hic mihi primum meum consilium defuit, sed etiam obfuit. Caeci, caeci, inquam, fuimus in vestitu mutando, in populo rogando, quod, nisi nominatim mecum agi coeptum esset, fieri perniciosum fuit. Sed pergo praeterita, verum tamen ob hanc causam, ut, si quid agetur, legem illam, in qua popularia multa sunt, ne tangatis. Verum est stultum me praecipere, quid agatis aut quo modo. Utinam modo agatur aliquid! In quo ipso multa occultant tuae litterae, credo, ne vehementius desperatione perturber. Quid enim vides agi posse aut quo modo? per senatumne? At tute scripsisti ad me quoddam caput legis Clodium in curiae poste fixisse, Ne referri neve dici liceret. Quo modo igitur Domitius se dixit relaturum? quo modo autum iis, quos tu scribis, et de re dicentibus et, ut referretur, postulantibus Clodius tacuit? Ac,
You mention talking to Culleo about this bill being directed against an individual.[[102]] There is something in that point: but it is much better to have it repealed. If no one vetoes it, it is by far the surest course. If on the other hand anyone is opposed to it, he will veto the Senate’s decree too. There is no necessity to repeal anything else as well: the former law did not touch me. If we had had the sense to support it when it was brought forward, or to take no notice of it, which was all it deserved, it never would have done us any harm. It was then I first lost the use of my wits, or rather used them to my own destruction. It was blind, absolutely blind of us to put on mourning, to appeal to the crowd—a fatal thing to do before I was attacked personally. But I keep harping on what is over and done with. My point, however, is to urge you, when you do make a move, not to touch that law on account of its claims to popularity. But it is absurd of me to lay down what you should do or how. If only something could be done! And on that very point I am afraid your letters keep back a good deal, to save me from giving way to even deeper despair. What course of action do you suppose can be taken and how? Through the Senate? But you yourself have told me that a clause of Clodius’ bill, forbidding any motion or reference to my case, has been posted up in the House. How then does Domitius propose to make a motion? And how is it that Clodius holds his tongue, when the men you mention talk about the case and ask for a motion? And, if you think
[102]. A privilegium was a law passed for or against some particular person, which was expressly forbidden by the Twelve Tables.
si per populum, poteritne nisi de omnium tribunorum pl. sententia? Quid de bonis? quid de domo? poteritne restitui? aut, si non poterit, egomet quo modo potero? Haec nisi vides expediri, quam in spem me vocas? sin autem spei nihil est, quae est mihi vita? Itaque exspecto Thessalonicae acta Kal. Sext., ex quibus statuam, in tuosne agros confugiam, ut neque videam homines, quos nolim, et te, ut scribis, videam et propius sim, si quid agatur, id quod intellexi cum tibi tum Quinto fratri placere, an abeam Cyzicum.
Nunc, Pomponi, quoniam nihil impertisti tuae prudentiae ad salutem meam, quod aut in me ipso satis esse consilii decreras aut te nihil plus mihi debere, quam ut praesto esses, quoniamque ego proditus, inductus, coniectus in fraudem omnia mea praesidia neglexi, totam Italiam mire erectam ad me defendendum destitui et reliqui, me, meos, mea tradidi inimicis inspectante et tacente te, qui, si non plus ingenio valebas quam ego, certe timebas minus, si potes, erige adflictos et in eo nos iuva; sin omnia sunt obstructa, id ipsum fac ut sciamus et nos aliquando aut obiurgare aut communiter consolari desine. Ego si tuam fidem accusarem, non me potissimum tuis
of acting through the people, can it be managed without the consent of all the tribunes? What about my goods and chattels? What about my house? Will they be restored? If not, how can I be? If you don’t see your way to managing that, what is it you want me to hope for? And, if there is nothing to hope for, what sort of life can I lead? Under these circumstances I am awaiting the gazette for August 1 at Thessalonica, before I make up my mind whether to take refuge on your estate, where I can avoid seeing those I don’t want to see, and see you, as you point out in your letter, and be nearer at hand if any action is being taken, or whether I shall go to Cyzicus. I believe you and Quintus want me to keep at hand.
Now, Pomponius, you used none of your wisdom in saving me from ruin—either because you thought I had enough common sense myself, or because you thought you owed me nothing but the support of your presence: while I, basely betrayed and hurried to my ruin, threw down my arms and fled, deserting my country, though all Italy would have stood up and defended me with enthusiasm. You looked on in silence, while I betrayed myself, my family and my possessions, to my enemies, though, even if you had not more sense than I had, you certainly had less cause for panic. Now, if you can, raise me from my fall, and in that render me assistance. But, if all ways are blocked, let me know of the fact, and do not keep on either reproaching me or offering us[[103]] your sympathy. If I had any fault to find with your loyalty, I should not trust myself to your house in preference to all