Well, these unfortunate towns are a good deal relieved when they find that neither I, nor my lieutenants, nor quaestor, nor any of my suite, is costing them a penny.  I not only refuse to accept forage, which is allowed by the Julian law, but even firewood.  We take from them not a single thing except beds and a roof to cover us; and rarely so much even as that, for we generally camp out in tents.  The result is, we are welcomed by crowds coming out to meet us from the countryside, the villages, the houses, everywhere.  By Hercules, the mere approach of your Cicero puts new life into them, such reports have spread of his justice and moderation and clemency!  He has exceeded every expectation.  I hear nothing of the Parthians.  We are hastening to join the army, which is two days distant.

To Marcus Caelius Rufus Asia, B.C. 50

Nothing could have been more apt or judicious than your management of the application to the senate for a public thanksgiving to me.  The arrangement of the matter has been just what I desired; not only has it been passed through quickly, but Hirrus, your rival and mine, associated himself with Cato’s unbounded praise of my achievements.  I have some hope that this may lead to a triumph; you should be prepared for that.

I am glad to hear that you think well of Dolabella and like him; and, as you say, my Tullia’s good sense may moderate him.  May they be fortunate together!  I hope that he will prove a good son-in-law, and am sure that your friendship will help to that end.

About public affairs I am more anxious than I can say.  I like Curio; I hope Caesar may prove himself an honourable man; for Pompey I would willingly give my life; yet, after all, I love no man so dearly as I love the republic.  You do not seem to be taking any very prominent part in these difficulties; but you are somewhat tied by being at once a good patriot and a loyal friend.

To Atticus, in Rome Athens, B.C. 50

I arrived in Athens two days ago on my way home from my province, and received your letter.  I have been appalled by what you tell me about Caesar’s legions.  I beg you, in the name of fortune, to apply all your love for me and all your incomparable wisdom to the consideration of my whole situation.  I seem to see a dreadful contest coming, unless some divinity have pity on the republic—­such a contest as has never been before.  I do not ask you to think of this catastrophe; after all, it is a calamity for all the world as well as for me.

What I want is that you should go into my personal dilemma.  It was you who advised me to secure the friendship of both parties; and much I wish that I had attended from the first to your counsels.  You persuaded me to embrace the one, because he had done so much for me, and the other, because he was powerful; and so I succeeded in engaging the affection of both.