Just as I was writing these words, in comes Sebosus: and I had hardly fetched a sigh, when there was Arrius saying “Good day.” This is going out of town! Is it escaping from society to run into people like this? I shall certainly be off to “My native hills, the cradle of my youth.” To put it shortly, if I can’t be alone, I would rather be with countryfolk than with these ultra-city men. However, as you send no definite date, I will wait for you at Formiae till the 5th of May.
Terentia is much gratified by the attention and care you have bestowed on her dispute with Mulvius. She has not the least idea that you are supporting the common cause of all the owners of public land. However you do pay something to the tax-collectors; while she refuses to pay a penny. Accordingly she and my boy, a most conservative lad, send their respects.
[Sidenote: _Scr. in Formiano in. m. Maio a. 695_]
Cenato mihi et iam dormitanti pridie K. Maias epistula est illa reddita, in qua de agro Campano scribis. Quid quaeris? primo ita me pupugit, ut somnum mihi ademerit, sed id cogitatione magis quam molestia; cogitanti autem haec fere succurrebant. Primum ex eo, quod superioribus litteris scripseras, ex familiari te illius audisse prolatum iri aliquid, quod nemo improbaret, maius aliquid timueram. Hoc mihi eius modi non videbatur. Deinde, ut me egomet consoler, omnis exspectatio largitionis agrariae in agrum Campanum videtur esse derivata, qui ager, ut dena iugera sint, non amplius hominum quinque milia potest sustinere; reliqua omnis multitudo ab illis abalienetur necesse est. Praeterea si ulla res est, quae bonorum animos, quos iam video esse commotos, vehementius possit incendere, haec certe est et eo magis, quod portoriis Italiae sublatis, agro Campano diviso quod vectigal superest domesticum praeter vicensimam? quae mihi videtur una contiuncula clamore pedisequorum nostrorum esse peritura. Gnaeus quidem noster iam plane quid cogitet nescio;
φυσᾷ γὰρ οὐ σμικροῖσιν αὐλίσκοις ἔτι, ἀλλ’ ἀγρίαις φύσαισι φορβειᾶς ἄτερ.
qui quidem etiam istuc adduci potuerit. Nam adhuc
As I was taking a nap after dinner on the last of April, your letter about the Campanian land arrived. Well, at first it startled me so that it banished all desire to sleep, though it was thought rather than uneasiness that kept me awake. The result of my cogitations was something of this sort. First, when you said in your last letter you had heard from a great friend of Caesar’s that some proposal was going to be made to which no one could object, I had feared some sweeping measure; but this I don’t consider anything of the kind. Secondly—and that is some consolation to me—all hope of agrarian distribution seems to have been diverted to the Campanian land. Supposing that the allotments are about 6 acres apiece, that land will not hold more than 5,000 people; so they have to offend all the rest of the masses. Besides, if anything is calculated to arouse a fiercer pitch of indignation in the minds of the conservatives, who are obviously getting roused already, this is the very thing that will; all the more so because there won’t be any home tax left except the 5 per cent.,[76] now that the customs duties have been abolished, if the Campanian land is distributed: and that, I fancy, it would take only one petty harangue assisted by the cheers of our lacqueys to abolish. What on earth our friend Gnaeus is thinking of in letting himself be carried so far, I cannot tell: