Letter 4.7

Although I understand that you have hitherto followed a course of action which I do not dare to criticize, not because I myself disagree with it, but because I judge you to be of such wisdom that I would not set my own judgment above yours, nevertheless both the long standing of our friendship and your supreme goodwill toward me, which I have known since your boyhood, have urged me to write to you what I believed would conduce to your safety and what I thought not inconsistent with your dignity. I remember well that you were the man who foresaw the beginnings of these disasters long before they came, who conducted your consulship most magnificently and admirably; but I also saw that you neither approved the plan for conducting the civil war nor the forces of Gnaeus Pompeius nor the character of his army, and that you always had the deepest misgivings. I believe you remember that I too held that same opinion. And so neither did you take much part in the conduct of affairs, and I always strove not to be involved; for we were not fighting with the weapons in which we could have prevailed -- counsel, authority, the justice of our cause, in which we were superior -- but with arms and physical force, in which we were not equal. We were defeated, therefore, or if dignity cannot be defeated, certainly broken and cast down; and in this your course of action no one can fail to praise most highly, since along with the hope of victory you also abandoned even the desire for further conflict, and showed that a wise man and good citizen takes up the beginnings of civil war unwillingly and does not willingly pursue it to its end. Those who did not follow the same course as you, I see, have been divided into two groups: for either they attempted to renew the war, and these betook themselves to Africa, or, as we did, they entrusted themselves to the victor. Your course was a kind of middle way, since you considered the one path perhaps that of a humble spirit, the other of an obstinate one. I admit that your course has been judged wise by most, or rather by all, and by many also as that of a great and brave spirit; but that policy has, as it seems to me, a certain limit, especially since I believe you lack nothing for the recovery of all your fortunes except the will. For I have understood that there is nothing else that causes hesitation in the man who holds power, except that he feared you might not consider his favor a benefit at all; about which it is pointless for me to say what I think, since it is plain what I myself have done. But nevertheless, even if you had already resolved that you would rather be absent forever than see what you would not wish to see, you ought still to consider that wherever you were, you would be in the power of the very man from whom you fled. If he were content to let you live quietly and freely without your homeland and your fortunes, you should still consider whether you would rather live at Rome in your own home, whatever the situation might be, or at Mytilene or Rhodes. But since the power of the man we fear extends so widely as to encompass the whole world, do you not prefer to be at your own home without danger rather than at another person's home with danger? For my part, even if death were to be faced, I would rather face it at home and in my own country than in foreign and alien places; all who love you feel the same, and they are a great multitude on account of your supreme and most distinguished virtues. We also have regard for your private property, which we do not wish to see dissipated; for although it can suffer no injury that will be permanent, since neither the man who holds the republic nor the republic itself will permit it, yet I do not want an assault of plunderers upon your fortunes -- and who these might be, I would dare to write, except that I am confident you understand. Here the anxieties of one man, and indeed the many and constant tears of Gaius Marcellus, your excellent brother, plead with you on your behalf. We are nearest in concern and grief, but slower in entreaties, because we do not have the right of approach, since we ourselves have needed intercession; we can accomplish only as much as the defeated can. But still, in counsel and devotion, we do not fail Marcellus. By the rest of your people we are not consulted; for all of them we stand ready.

CDLXXXIV (Fam. IV, 7) TO M. CLAUDIUS MARCELLUS (AT MITYLENE) ROME (SEPTEMBER) Though I am aware that as yet you have maintained a policy of a nature that I do not venture to rebuke-not that I do not myself disagree with it, but because I judge you to be so wise a man, that I do not presume to prefer my view to yours-nevertheless, both the antiquity of our friendship and your eminent affection for me, which I have known from your childhood, have urged me to write to you what I believed would make for your personal security, and thought was not inconsistent with your honour. I have a vivid recollection that you were wise enough to discern the first signs of these disasters long before they occurred, and that you administered the consulship with the utmost splendour and in the most loyal spirit. But I also was conscious of this — that you were not satisfied with the policy of the civil war, nor with Pompey 's forces, nor the nature of his army, and were always deeply distrustful of it: in which sentiment I think you remember that I also shared. Accordingly, you did not take much part in active service, and I always strove not to do so. For we were not fighting with the weapons with which we might have prevailed-deliberation, weight of character, and the righteousness of our cause, in all of which we had the superiority — but with muscles and brute force, in which we were not his equals. Accordingly, we were beaten, or, if worth cannot really be beaten, at least we were crushed and rendered powerless. And in this no one can do otherwise than highly praise your resolution, in that with all hope of victory you cast aside all desire of keeping up the contest also; and showed that a wise man and a good citizen takes the first steps in a civil war with reluctance, but with pleasure declines taking the last. Those who did not adopt the same course as yourself I perceive to have split up into two classes. Either they endeavoured to renew the war — and these have betaken themselves to Africa: or, like myself, they trusted themselves to the victor. Your course was a kind of compromise between the two, since you perhaps regarded the second as cowardice, the first as blind obstinacy. I confess that by most people, or I should say by everybody, your plan has been judged to be wise, by many even magnanimous and courageous. But your policy, as it seems to me at least, has a certain limit, especially as in my opinion nothing is wanting to your being able to keep your entire fortune, except your own willingness to do so. For I have gathered that there is nothing else which causes him who is now all-powerful to feel any hesitation, except the fear that you would not regard it as a favour at all. As to which there is no occasion for me to say what I think, since my conduct speaks for itself. However, even if you had already made up your mind, that you preferred being absent from Rome to seeing what was repugnant to your feelings, yet you ought to have reflected that, wherever you were, you would be in the power of the man from whom you were fleeing. And even if he were likely to make no difficulty about allowing you to live in peace and freedom while deprived of property and country, you ought yet to have reflected whether you preferred living at Rome and in your own house, whatever the state of affairs, to living at Mitylene or Rhodes . But seeing that the power of the man whom we fear is so widely extended, that it has embraced the whole world, do you not prefer being in your own house without danger to being in another man's with danger? For my part, if I must face death, I would rather do so at home and in my native country, than in a foreign and alien land. This is the sentiment of all who love you, of whom the number is as great as your eminent and shining virtues deserve. We have also regard for your property, which we are unwilling to see scattered. For, though it can receive no injury destined to be lasting, because neither the present master of the Republic, nor the Republic itself, will allow it, yet I don't want to see an attack made by certain banditti upon your possessions: and who these are I would have ventured to write, had I not felt sure that you understand. Here the anxieties, nay, the copious and perpetual tears of one man, your excellent brother Gaius Marcellus , plead for your pardon: I come next him both in anxiety and sorrow, but in actual prayers am somewhat slow, because I have not the right of entree to Caesar , being myself in need of intercession. We have only the influence which the conquered have, yet in counsel and zeal we are not wanting to Marcellus . By your other relations my help is not asked. I am prepared for anything.

VII. Scr. Romae (post VII. Kal. Sext.) a.u.c. 708. M. CICERO S. D. M. MARCELLO. Etsi eo te adhuc consilio usum intelligo, ut id reprehendere non audeam, non quyin ab eo ipse dissentiam, sed quod ea te sapientia esse iudicem, ut meum consilium non anteponam tuo, tamen et anicitiae nostrae vetustas et tua summa erga me benevolentia, quae mihi iam a pueritia tua cognita est, me hortata est, ut ea scriberem ad te, quae et saluti tuae conducere arbitrarer et non aliena esse ducerem a dignitate. Ego eum te esse, qui horum malorum initia multo ante videris, consulatum magnificentissime atque optime gesseris, praeclare memini; sed idem etiam illa vidi, neque te consilium civilis belli ita gerendi nec copias Cn. Pompeii nec genus exercitus probare semperque summe diffidere, qua in sententia me quoque fuisse memoria tenere te arbitror. Itaque neque tu multum interfuisti rebus gerendis et ego id semper egi, ne interessem; non enim iis rebus pugnabamus, quibus valere poteramus, consilio, auctoritate, causa, quae erant in nobis superiora, sed lacertis et viribus, quibus pares non eramus: victi sumus igitur aut, si vinci dignitas non potest, fracti certe et abiecti; in quo tuum consilium nemo potest non maxime laudare, quod cum spe vincendi simul abiecisti certandi etiam cupiditatem ostendistique sapientam et bonum civem initia velli civilis invitum suscipere, extrema libenter non persequi. Qui non idem consilium, quod tu, secuti sunt, eos video in duo genera esse distractos; aut enim renovare bellum conati sunt, hique se in Africam contulerunt, aut, quemadmodum nos, victori sese crediderunt: medium quoddam tuum consilium fuit, qui hoc fortasse humilis animi duceres, illud pertinacis. Fateor a plerisque vel dicam ab omnibus sapiens tuum consilium, a multis etiam magni ac fortis animi iudicatum; sed habet ista ratio, ut mihi quidem videtur, quendam modum, praesertim cum nihil tibi deesse arbitrer ad tuas fortunas omnes obtinendas praeter voluntatem; sic enim intellexi, nihil aliud esse, quod dubitationem afferret ei, penes quem est potestas, nisi quod vereretur, ne tu illud beneficium omnino non putares; de quo quid sentiam, nihil attinet dicere, cum appareat, ipse quid fecerim. Sed tamen, si iam ita constituisses, ut abesse perpetuo malles quam ea, quae nolles, videre, tamen id cogitare deberes, ubicumque esses, te fore in eius ipsius, quem fugeres, potestate: qui si facile passurus esset te carentem patria et fortunis tuis quiete et libere vivere, cogitandum tibi tamen esset, Romaene et domi tuae, cuicuimodi res esset, an Mytilenis aut Rhodi malles vivere; sed, cum ita late pateat eius potestas, quem veremur, ut terrarum orbem complexa sit, nonne mavis sine periculo tuae domi esse quam cum periculo alienae? Equidem, etiamsi oppetenda mors esset, domi atque in patria mallem quam in externis atque alienis locis; hoc idem omnes, qui te diligunt, sentiunt, quorum est magna pro tuis maximis clarissimisque virtutibus multitudo. Habemus etiam rationem rei familiaris tuae, quam dissipari nolumus; nam, etsi nullam potest accipere iniuriam, quae futura perpetua sit, propterea quod neque is, qui tenet rem publicam, patietur neque ipsa res publica, tamen impetum praedonum in tuas fortunas fieri nolo, hi autem qui essent, auderem scribere, nisi te intelligere confiderem. Hic te unius sollicitudines, unius etiam multae et assiduae lacrimae, C. Marcelli, fratris optimi, deprecantur: nos cura et dolore proximi sumus, precibus tardiores, quod ius adeundi, cum ipsi deprecatione eguerimus, non habemus, gratia tantum possumus, quantum victi; sed tamen consilio, studio Marcello non desumus. A tuis reliquis non adhibemur; ad omnis parati sumus.