efface himself completely and sit down in silence and inactivity in company with the more obstinate of the Nobles. He would be obliged even to renounce his great position as leader of the Roman bar, for politics were ever intruding themselves into forensic contests. Such a sacrifice, had Cicero been prepared to make it, would perhaps have been the most honourable, certainly it would have been the most dignified course.
But it was doubtful whether he could count on a cordial reception from the Nobles, and still more doubtful whether they could or would afford him effective protection from Clodius and his other enemies. Cicero had been convinced all along that the Nobles had deserted him in his hour of peril, and now he was equally sure that they were jealous of him and would be glad to see him reduced to a non-entity; as he had written to his friend soon after his return: "Those same men, my dear Atticus, who clipped my wings, are displeased to see them growing again, for growing I hope they are."[1] Even during the last month, some of them had not been able to conceal their delight[2] that Cicero, who had so often supported Pompey against what they considered the interests of the party, should now have incurred his displeasure and that of Cæsar. Further the Nobles continued to abet Clodius, and by this conduct they forfeited, as Cicero thought, their claim to be considered the party of order[3]; Pompey was
