I am by this time hardened to such things, and have divested myself of all human feelings. I look forward to your letter to-day, not that I expect anything new, for what should there be? But all the same
DCII (A XIII, 27)
TO ATTICUS (AT ROME)
Tusculum (25 May)
I had always determined, and on very good grounds, that
your friends should read my letter to Cæsar before it was
sent. If I had acted otherwise, I should have been wanting
in courtesy to them, and almost rash in regard to my
own danger in case my letter should prove offensive to
him. Now your friends have acted frankly, and have
obliged me by not suppressing their opinion; but best of
all by suggesting so many alterations, that I have no reason
for writing it all over again. And yet, in the matter
of the Parthian war, what ought I to have kept in view
except what I thought was Cæsar's wish?[1] What, in fact,
was the point of my letter at all except to say smooth
things to him?[2] Do you suppose that if I had wanted to
give him the advice which I thought best, I should have
been at a loss for language? Therefore the whole letter is
altogether superfluous. For when no great "hit" is possible,
and a "miss," however slight, would bring unpleasant consequences,
what need to run the risk? Especially as it occurs
to me that, as I have not written to him before, he will
think that I should probably not have written had not the
war been over. Moreover, I fear his thinking that I meant, a strong word. Speaking frankly to Atticus, Cicero makes
no concealment of his real dislike of Cæsar's policy and of his own unwilling
submission to force majeure.]
