nt with any dignity: and
this I do not do, as perhaps some may think, from insincerity; for
deliberate purpose and, by heaven! affection for Pompey are so powerful
with me, that whatever is to his interest, and whatever he wishes,
appears to me at once to be altogether right and reasonable. Nor, as I
think, would even his opponents be wrong if, seeing that they cannot
possibly be his equals, they were to cease to struggle against him. For
myself I have another consolation--my character is such that all the
world thinks me justified beyond all others, whether I support Pompey's
views, or hold my tongue, or even, what is above everything else to my
taste, return to my literary pursuits. And this last I certainly shall
do, if my friendship for this same man permits it. For those objects
which I had at one time in view, after having held the highest offices
and endured the greatest fatigues--the power of intervening with dignity
in the debates of the senate, and a free hand in dealing with public
affairs--these have been entirely abolished, and not more for me than
for all. For we all have either to assent to a small clique, to the
utter loss of our dignity, or to dissent to no purpose. My chief object
in writing to you thus is that you may consider carefully what line you
will also take yourself. The whole position of senate, law courts, and
indeed of the entire constitution has undergone a complete change. The
most we can hope for is tranquillity: and this the men now in supreme
power seem likely to give us, if certain persons[519] shew somewhat more
tolerance of their despotism. The old consular prestige, indeed, of a
courageous and consistent senator we must no longer think of: that has
been lost by the fault of those who have alienated from the senate both
an order once very closely allied to it, and an individual of the most
illustrious character. But to return to what more immediately affects
your interests--I have ascertained that Pompey is warmly your friend,
and with him as consul, to the best of my knowledge and belief, you will
get whatever you wish. In this he will have me always at his elbow, and
nothing which affects you shall be passed over by me. Nor, in fact,
shall I be afraid of boring him, for he will be very glad for his own
sake to find me grateful to him. I would have you fully persuaded that
there is nothing, however small, affecting your welfare that is not
dearer to me than every interest of my own.