m politics, I don't know why I should
lose my temper. Literature and my favourite studies, along with the
retirement of my country houses, and above all our two boys, furnish my
enjoyments. The one man who vexes me is Milo. But I hope an end will be
put to my anxieties by his getting the consulship: and to obtain this
for him I shall struggle as hard as I did for my own, and you, I am
sure, will continue to give assistance from over there. In his case
other things are all secure, unless it is snatched from his grasp by
downright violence: it is about his means that I am frightened:

"For he is now beyond all bearing mad,"[683]

to spend 1,000,000 sesterces (about L8,000) on his games. His want of
prudence in this one particular I shall put up with as well as I can,
and you should be strong-minded enough to do the same. In mentioning the
changes to be expected next year, I didn't mean you to understand me to
refer to domestic alarms: the reference was wholly to the state of the
Republic, in which, though not charged with any actual duty, I can
scarcely discharge myself from all anxiety. Yet how cautious I would
have you be in writing you may guess from the fact that I do not mention
in my letters to you even open acts of disorder in the state, lest my
letter should be intercepted and give offence to the feelings of anyone.
Wherefore, as far as domestic affairs are concerned, I would have you be
quite easy: in politics I know how anxious you always are. I can see
that our friend Messalla will be consul, if by means of an _interrex_,
without any prosecution, if by that of a dictator, without danger of
conviction. He is not disliked by anyone. Hortensius's warm support will
stand him in good stead. Gabinius's acquittal is looked upon as a
general act of indemnity. _En passant_: nothing has, after all, been
done as yet about a dictatorship. Pompey is out of town; Appius is
intriguing darkly; Hirrus is paving the way: there are many tribunes
calculated on to veto it: the people are indifferent: the leading men
disinclined to it: I don't stir a finger. I am exceedingly obliged for
your promises as to slaves, and I am indeed, as you say, short-handed
both at Rome and on my estates. But pray do nothing for my convenience
unless it entirely suits your own, and your means. About the letter of
Vatinius I laughed heartily. But though I know I am being watched by
him, I can swallow his hatred and digest it too. You urge me to
"f