in omni genere iudico singularem, confer ad eam curam, ut de omni statu meo cogites. Videre enim mihi videor tantam dimicationem, nisi idem deus, qui nos melius, quam optare auderemus, Parthico bello liberavit, respexerit rem publicam,—sed tantam, quanta numquam fuit. Age, hoc malum mihi commune est cum omnibus. Nihil tibi mando ut de eo cogites, illud meum proprium πρόβλεμα, quaeso, suscipe. Videsne, ut te auctore sim utrumque complexus? Ac vellem a principio te audisse amicissime monentem.
Ἀλλ' ἐμὸν οὔποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔπειθες.
Sed aliquando tamen persuasisti, ut alterum complecterer, quia de me erat optume meritus, alterum, quia tantum valebat. Feci igitur itaque effeci omni obsequio, ut neutri illorum quisquam esset me carior. Haec enim cogitabamus, nec mihi coniuncto cum Pompeio fore necesse peccare in re publica aliquando nec cum Caesare sentienti pugnandum esse cum Pompeio. Tanta erat illorum coniunctio. Nunc impendet, ut et tu ostendis, et ego video, summa inter eos contentio. Me autem uterque numerat suum, nisi forte simulat alter. Nam Pompeius non dubitat; vere enim iudicat ea, quae de re publica nunc sentiat, mihi valde probari. Utriusque autem accepi eius modi litteras eodem tempore quo tuas, ut neuter quemquam omnium pluris facere quam me videretur. Verum quid agam? Non quaero illa ultima (si enim
wisdom, which I swear to my mind is unrivalled in every subject, to be devoted to a careful estimate of my whole position. For myself, I seem to foresee a terrific struggle, unless indeed the same god, who wrought above my boldest hopes in freeing us from a Parthian war, take pity on the state—anyhow, such a terrific struggle as there never has been before. True, the calamity would fall not only on me, but on every one. I don't ask you to consider the wider problem: solve my own little case, I entreat. Don't you see that it is you who are responsible for my friendship with both Pompey and Caesar? Ah, would that I had listened to your friendly admonitions from the outset.
Odyssey ix, 33
"Thou couldst not sway the spirit in my breast."
But at last, however, you persuaded me to be friendly with the one, because he had done so much for me; with the other, because he was so powerful. Well, I did so, and I have studiously contrived to be particularly dear to both of them. For my idea was this. Allied with Pompey, I should never have to be guilty of political impropriety; and, siding with Caesar, I should not have to fight with Pompey. So close was the alliance of those two. But now, on your showing and in my view, there threatens a dire struggle between them. Each of them counts me his friend—unless, perhaps, Caesar is dissembling; for Pompey has no doubt, rightly supposing that his present political views have my strongest approval. But both have sent me letters (which came with yours) in terms that would appear to make more of me than of anyone at all. But what am I to do? I don't mean in the long run. If the matter is to be fought in the