Letter 9.10

I did not dare send our friend Salvius to you without a letter; yet by Hercules I had nothing to write, except that you are amazingly loved by me -- of which, even if I wrote nothing, I know you have no doubt. Really, I should expect letters from you rather than you from me; for nothing is going on in Rome that I think you would care to know, unless perhaps you want to know that I am serving as judge between our friend Nicias and Vidius. One of them produces, I think, a debt of two little verses charged to Nicias's account; the other, a regular Aristarchus, marks these lines with his critical obelus. I, like an ancient literary critic, shall judge whether they are by the poet himself or interpolations. I think you are now saying: "Have you then forgotten those mushrooms at Nicias's house, and those enormous sausages with the wisdom of the seventh course?" What then? Do you think my old seriousness is so thoroughly shaken out of me that not even traces of my former austerity appear in the forum? But still I shall keep our most delightful friend intact as a dinner companion, and I shall not allow that, if I convict him, you may restore him, so that he may have a Bursa Plancus to learn his letters from. But what am I doing? Since I am uncertain whether you are at peace in your mind, or whether, as in war, you are engaged in some rather large concern or business, I go on too long. When I am sure you are ready to laugh, I shall write to you at greater length. But I want you to know this: the people were deeply worried about the death of Publius Sulla before they knew it for certain. Now they have stopped asking how he died; they think they know enough from what they know. As for the rest, I bear it with equanimity; I have only one fear: that Caesar's auction may have cooled off.

DXXXVI (Fam. IX, 10) TO P. CORNELIUS DOLABELLA (IN SPAIN) ROME (JANUARY) I DID not venture to allow our friend Salvius to go without a letter to you; yet, by Hercules , I have nothing to say except that I love you dearly: of which I feel certain that you do not doubt without my writing a word. In any case I ought rather to expect a letter from you, than you one from me. For there is nothing going on at Rome such as you would care to know: unless it would interest you to know that I am acting as arbitrator between our friend Nicias and Vidius! The latter puts forward in two lines, I think, a claim for money advanced to Nicias : the former, like a second Aristarchus , obelizes them. I am to be in the position of a critic of old days, and to judge whether they really are the poet's or are interpolations. I imagine you putting in here: “Have you forgotten, then, those mushrooms which you had at Nicias 's dinner, and the big dishes joined to Septima's learned talk?” What! do you think my old preciseness so entirely knocked out of me, that there is no trace of my former regard for appearances to be seen even in the forum? However, I will see our delightful boon companion through his little trouble, nor will I, by securing his condemnation, give you the opportunity of re storing him, that Plancus Bursa may have some one to teach him his rudiments. But what am I doing? Though I have no means of knowing whether you are in a quiet state of mind, or, as generally happens in war, are involved in some more important anxiety or occupation, yet I drift on farther and farther. So when I shall have ascertained for certain that you are in the vein for a laugh, I will write at greater length. However, I want you to know this, that the people have been very anxious about the death of Publius Sulla before they knew it for certain. Since then they have ceased to inquire how he perished: they think in knowing that they know enough. For the rest I bear it with equanimity: the only thing I fear is lest Caesar 's auctions should have received a blow. 378

X. Scr. Romae exeunte mense Febr. aut ineunte Mario a.u.c. 709. M. CICERO S. D. P. DOLABELLAE. Non sum ausus Salvio nostro nihil ad te litterarum dare; nec mehercule habebam, quid scriberem, nisi te a me mirabiliter amari, de quo etiam nihil scribente me te non dubitare certo scio. Omnino mihi magis litterae sunt exspectandae a te, quam a me tibi; nihil enim Romae geritur, quod te putem scire curare, nisi forte scire vis me inter Niciam nostrum et Vidium iudicem esse. Profert alter, opinor, duobus versiculis expensum Niciae; alter, Aristarchus, hos Ùbel¤jei. Ego tamquam criticus antiquus iudicaturus sum, utrum sint toË poihtoË an parembeblhm°noi. Puto te nunc dicere: "oblitusne es igitur fungorum illorum, quos apud Niciam, et ingentium cularum cum sophia septimae?" Quid ergo? tu adeo mihi excussam severitatem veterem putas, ut ne in foro quidem reliquiae pristinae frontis appareant? Sed tamen suavissimum sumbivtØn nostrum praestabo integellum, nec committam, ut, si ego eum condemnaro, tu restituas, ut habeat Bursa Plancus, apud quem litteras discat. Sed quid ago? cum mihi sit incertum, tranquillone sis animo an, ut in bello, in aliqua maiuscula cura negotiove versere, labor longius; cum igitur mihi erit exploratum te libenter esse risurum, scribam ad te pluribus. Te tamen hoc scire volo, vehementer populum sollicitum fuisse de P. Sullae morte, antequam certum scierit: nunc quaerere desierunt, quo modo perierit; satis putant se scire, quod sciunt. Ego ceteroqui animo aequo fero: unum vereor, ne hasta Caesaris refrixerit.