Letter 4.6

Yes, Servius, I wish, as you write, that you had been with me at the time of my terrible loss. How much your presence could have helped me, both by consolation and by sharing almost equally in my grief, I can tell from the fact that reading your letter gave me some relief. You wrote things that could ease mourning, and in consoling me you showed no small sorrow of your own. Your son Servius, by every duty that such a time allowed, showed both how much he values me and how pleasing he thought such affection for me would be to you. His services have often been more pleasant to me, but never more welcome. I am comforted not only by your words and by what was almost a partnership in grief, but also by your authority. I think it shameful not to bear my loss as you, with such wisdom, think it should be borne. Yet at times I am overwhelmed and scarcely resist grief, because I lack the consolations that were not lacking to others in similar fortune, whose examples I set before myself. Quintus Maximus lost a son who had been consul, a distinguished man of great achievements; Lucius Paullus lost two sons within seven days; your Gallus and Marcus Cato each lost a son of the highest ability and excellence. But all of them lived in circumstances where their public standing, won by great service, could soften grief. In my case, after losing the honors you mention, honors won with the greatest effort, the only solace left was the one now torn away. My sad thoughts were not interrupted by friends' business or public affairs. There was nothing I cared to do in the forum. I could not bear the sight of the Senate-house. I thought, and rightly, that I had lost all the fruits of my work and fortune. Still, while I believed I shared these losses with you and a few others, and while I conquered my feelings and forced myself to bear them patiently, I had one refuge, one breast where I could rest, one whose conversation and sweetness let me lay aside all anxieties and sorrows. Now, after such a crushing blow, the wounds that seemed healed have broken open again. There is no republic now to offer me refuge and consolation by its prosperity when I leave home in grief, as there once was a home to receive me when I returned saddened by public affairs. So I keep away from both home and forum, because home can no longer console the sorrow public affairs cause me, nor public affairs the sorrow I suffer at home. All the more I look forward to your coming, and I long to see you as soon as possible. No reasoning can bring me greater comfort than renewing our companionship and conversation. I hope your arrival is near, as I am told. I have many reasons for wanting to see you as soon as possible, but especially this: that we may discuss beforehand by what principles we should live through this period of complete submission to one man's will, a man who is wise and generous, not hostile to me as far as I can see, and very friendly to you. Even so, we must think seriously about what plan to adopt, not for action, but for passing a quiet life by his permission and kindness. Farewell.

DLXXIII (Fam. IV, 6) TO SERVIUS SULPICIUS RUFUS (IN ACHAIA) (FICULEA, APRIL) YES, indeed, my dear Servius , I would have wished — as you say — that you had been by my side at the time of my grievous loss. How much help your presence might have given me, both by consolation and by your taking an almost equal share in my sorrow, I can easily gather from the fact that after reading your letter I experienced a great feeling of relief. For not only was what you wrote calculated to soothe a mourner, but in offering me consolation you manifested no slight sorrow of heart yourself. Yet, after all, your son Servius by all the kindnesses of which such a time admitted made it evident, both how much he personally valued me, and how gratifying to you he thought such affection for me would be. His kind offices have of course often been pleasanter to me, yet never more acceptable. For myself again, it is not only your words and (I had almost said) your partnership in my sorrow that consoles me, it is your character also. For I think it a disgrace that I should not bear my loss as you — a man of such wisdom-think it should be borne. But at times I am taken by surprise and scarcely offer any resistance to my grief, because those consolations fail me, which were not wanting in a similar misfortune to those others, whose examples I put before my eyes. For instance, Quintus Maximus , who lost a son who had been consul and was of illustrious character and brilliant achievements, and Lucius Paullus , who lost two within seven days, and your kinsman Gallus and M. Cato , who each lost a son of the highest character and valour;-all lived in circumstances which permitted their own great position, earned by their public services, to assuage their grief. In my case, after losing the honours which you yourself mention, and which I had gained by the greatest possible exertions, there was only that one solace left which has now been torn away. My sad musings were not interrupted by the business of my friends, nor by the management of public affairs: there was nothing I cared to do in the forum: I could not bear the sight of the senate-house ; I thought — as was the fact — that I had lost all the fruits both of my industry and of fortune. But while I thought that I shared these losses with you and certain others, and while I was conquering my feelings and forcing myself to bear them with patience, I had a refuge, one bosom where I could find repose, one in whose conversation and sweetness I could lay aside all anxieties and sorrows. But now, after such a crushing blow as this, the wounds which seemed to have healed break out afresh. For there is no republic now to offer me a refuge and a consolation by its good fortunes when I leave my home in sorrow, as there once was a home to receive me when I returned saddened by the state of public affairs. Hence I absent myself both from home and forum, because home can no longer console the sorrow which public affairs cause me, nor public affairs that which I suffer at home. All the more I look forward to your coming, and long to see you as soon as possible. No reasoning can give me greater solace than a renewal of our intercourse and conversation. However, I hope your arrival is approaching, for that is what I am told. For myself, while I have many reasons for wishing to see you as soon as possible, there is this one especially — that we may discuss beforehand on what principles we should live through this period of entire submission to the will of one man who is at once wise and liberal, far, as I think I perceive, from being hostile to me, and very friendly to you. But though that is so, yet it is a matter for serious thought what plans, I, don't say of action, but of passing a quiet life by his leave and kindness, we should adopt. Good-bye.

VI. Scr. Asturae mense Aprili a.u.c. 709. M. CICERO S. D. SER. SULPICIO. Ego vero, Servi, vellem, ut scribis, in meo gravissimo casu affuisses; quantum enim praesens me adiuvare potueris et consolando et prope aeque dolendo, facile ex eo intelligo, quod litteris lectis aliquantum acquievi, nam et ea scripsisti, quae levare luctum possent, et in me consolando non mediocrem ipse animi dolorem adhibuisti: Servius tamen tuus omnibus officiis, quae illi tempori tribui potuerunt, declaravit et quanti ipse me faceret et quam suum talem erga me animum tibi gratum putaret fore; cuius officia iucundiora scilicet saepe mihi fuerunt, numquam tamen gratiora. Me autem non oratio tua solum et societas paene aegritudinis, sed etiam auctoritas consolatur; turpe enim esse existimo me non ita ferre casum meum, ut tu, tali sapientia praeditus, ferendum putas; sed opprimor interdum et vix resisto dolori, quod ea me solatia deficiunt, quae ceteris, quorum mihi exempla propono, simili in fortuna non defuerunt: nam et Q. Maximus, qui filium consularem, clarum virum et magnis rebus gestis, amisit, et L. Paullus, qui duo septem diebus, et vester Gallus et M. Cato, qui summo ingenio, summa virtute filium perdidit, iis temporibus fuerunt, ut eorum luctum ipsorum dignitas consolaretur ea, quam ex re publica consequebantur; mihi autem amissis ornamentis iis, quae ipse commemoras quaeque eram maximis laboribus adeptus, unum manebat illud solatium, quod ereptum est: non amicorum negotiis, non rei publicae procuratione impediebantur cogitationes meae, nihil in foro agere libebat, aspicere curiam non poteram, existimabam, id quod erat, omnes me et industriae meae fructus et fortunae perdidisse: sed, cum cogitarem haec mihi tecum et cum quibusdam esse communia, et cum frangerem iam ipse me et cogerem illa ferre toleranter, habebam, quo confugerem, ubi conquiescerem, cuius in sermone et suavitate omnes curas doloresque deponerem: nunc autem hoc tam gravi vulnere etiam illa, quae consanuisse videbantur, recrudescunt; non enim, ut tum me a re publica maestum domus excipiebat, quae levaret, sic nunc domo maerens ad rem publicam confugere possum, ut in eius bonis acquiescam. Itaque et domo absum et foro, quod nec eum dolorem, quem ad re publica capio, domus iam consolari potest nec domesticum res publica. Quo magis te exspecto teque videre quam primum cupio— maior enim levatio mihi afferri nulla potest quam coniunctio consuetudinis sermonumque nostrorum—; quamquam sperabam tuum adventum—sic enim audiebam— appropinquare. Ego autem cum multis de causis te exopto quam primum videre, tum etiam, ut ante commentemur inter nos, qua ratione nobis traducendum sit hoc tempus, quod est totum ad unius voluntatem accommodandum et prudentis et liberalis et, ut perspexisse videor, nec a me alieni et tibi amicissimi; quod cum ita sit, magnae tamen est deliberationis, quae ratio sit ineunda nobis non agendi aliquid, sed illius concessu et beneficio quiescendi. Vale.