Letter 9.20

Your letter gave me double pleasure: I laughed myself, and I understood that you are now able to laugh. That I am laden with your insults as if I were a veteran comic, I do not take badly. What I am sorry about is that I was unable to come to those parts as I had planned; for you would have had not a guest but a messmate. And what a man! Not one you are accustomed to finish off with the hors d'oeuvres: I bring my full appetite to the first egg, and so the effort is sustained right through to the roast veal. Those old ways of mine that you used to praise -- "What an easygoing fellow! What an undemanding guest!" -- are gone. Now I have cast aside all my care for the republic, all thought of speaking my opinion in the senate, all preparation of legal cases, and flung myself into the camp of our adversary Epicurus -- not, however, to that extravagance of his, but to that old fine dining of yours, from the days when you had money to spend, even though you never had more estates. So prepare yourself: you are dealing with a man who is both a big eater and who by now understands something about it. You know how insolent late-learners are; you will have to unlearn your little baskets and bread-cakes. By now we have acquired enough from the art that we dare invite your Verrius and Camillus -- what impeccable, what elegant men! -- rather frequently. But see my audacity: I even gave Hirtius a dinner, though without a peacock. In that dinner my cook could imitate everything except the hot sauce. This then is my life now: in the morning I receive callers at home, both many good men, but sad ones, and the happy victors, who treat me with the greatest attention and affection. When the morning calls have thinned out, I wrap myself in literature: I either write or read. Some also come to hear me as though I were a learned man, because I am a little more learned than they are. Then all the rest of the time is given to the body. I have mourned my country already, more gravely and longer than any mother has mourned an only son. But take care, if you love me, that you are well, lest I eat up your property while you are lying sick; for I have resolved not to spare you even when you are ill.

CDLXXIII (Fam. IX, 20) TO L. PAPIRIUS PAETUS (AT NAPLES) ROME (AUGUST) I was doubly charmed by your letter, first because it made me laugh myself' and secondly because I saw that you could still laugh. Nor did I in the least object to being overwhelmed with your shafts of ridicule, as though I were a light skirmisher in the war of wits. What I am vexed at is that I have not been able, as I intended, to run over to see you: for you would not have had a mere guest, but a brother-in-arms. And such a hero! not the man whom you used to do for by the hors d'oeuvre. I now bring an unimpaired appetite to the egg, and so the fight is maintained right up to the roast veal. The compliments you used to pay me in old times — “What a contented person!” “What an easy guest to entertain! ” — are things of the past. All my anxiety about the good of the state, all meditating of speeches to be delivered in the senate, all getting up of briefs I have cast to the winds. I have thrown myself into the camp of my old enemy Epicurus — not, however, with a view to the extravagance of the present day, but to that refined splendour of yours — I mean your old style when you had money to spend (though you never had more landed estate ). Therefore prepare! You have to deal with a man, who not only has a large appetite, but who also knows a thing or two. You are aware of the extravagance of your bourgeois gentilhomme. You must forget all your little baskets and your omelettes. I am now so far advanced in the art that I frequently venture to ask your friend Verrius and Camillus to dinner — what dandies! how fastidious! But think of my audacity: I even gave Hirtius a dinner, without a peacock however. In that dinner my cook could not imitate him in anything but the hot sauce. So this is my way of life nowadays: in the morning I receive not only a large number of “loyalists,” who, how ever, look gloomy enough, but also our exultant conquerors here, who in my case are quite prodigal in polite and affectionate attentions. When the stream of morning callers has ebbed, I wrap myself up in my books, either writing or reading. There are also some visitors who listen to my discourses under the belief of my being a man of learning, because I am a trifle more learned than themselves. After that all my time is given to my bodily comfort. I have mourned for my country more deeply and longer than any mother for her only son. But take care, if you love me, to keep your health, lest I should take advantage of your being laid up to eat you out of house and home. For I am resolved not to spare you even when you are ill.

XX. Scr. Romae mense Sextili (post VII. K. Sext.) a.u.c. 708. CICERO PAETO. Dupliciter delectatus sum tuis litteris, et quod ipse risi et quod te intellexi iam posse ridere; me autem a te, ut scurram velitem, malis oneratum esse non moleste tuli: illud doleo, in ista loca venire me, ut constitueram, non potuisse; habuisses enim non hospitem, sed contubernalem. At quem virum! non eum, quem tu es solitus promulside conficere: integram famem ad ovum affero, itaque usque ad assum vitulinum opera perducitur. Illa mea, quae solebas antea laudare, "O hominem facilem! O hospitem non gravem!" abierunt: nunc omnem nostram de re publica curam, cogitationem de dicenda in senatu sententia, commentationem causarum abiecimus, in Epicuri nos adversarii nostri castra coniecimus, nec tamen ad hanc insolentiam sed ad illam tuam lautitiam, veterem dico, cum in sumptum habebas, etsi numquam plura praedia habuisti. Proinde te para: cum homine et edaci tibi res est et qui iam aliquid intelligat, Ùcimayeðw autem homines scis quam insolentes sint; dediscendae tibi sunt sportellae et artolagani tui. Nos iam ex artis tantum habemus, ut Verrium tuum et Camillum—qua munditia homines, qua elegantia!—vocare saepius audeamus; sed vide audaciam: etiam Hirtio coenam dedi, sine pavone tamen; in ea coena cocus meus praeter ius fervens nihil non potuit imitari. Haec igitur est nunc vita nostra: mane salutamus domi et bonos viros multos, sed tristes, et hos laetos victores, qui me quidem perofficiose et peramanter observant; ubi salutatio defluxit, litteris me involvo: aut scribo aut lego; veniunt etiam, qui meaudiant quasi doctum hominem, quia paullo sum quam ipsi doctior; inde corpori omne tempus datur. Patriam eluxi iam et gravius et diutius, quam ulla mater unicum filium. Sed cura, si me amas, ut valeas, ne ego te iacente bona tua comedim; statui enim tibi ne aegroto quidem parcere.