t, as surely you
must have heard me away there in Epirus." The reader, I trust, will have
already a sufficiently vivid idea of Cicero's character to understand
the mingling of triumph and badinage, with a spark of disappointment,
which is here expressed. "This Pompey, though I have so true to him, has
not thought much of me--of me, the great Consul who saved Rome! He has
now heard what even Crassus has been forced to say about me. He shall
hear me too, me myself, and perhaps he will then know better." It was
thus that Cicero's mind was at work while he was turning his loud
periods. Pompey was sitting next to him listening, by no means admiring
his admirer as that admirer expected to be admired. Cicero had probably
said to himself that they two together, Pompey and Cicero, might suffice
to preserve the Republic. Pompey, not thinking much of the Republic, was
probably telling himself that he wanted no brother near the throne. When
of two men the first thinks himself equal to the second, the second will
generally feel himself to be superior to the first. Pompey would have
liked Cicero better if his periods had not been so round nor his voice
so powerful. Not that Pompey was distinctly desirous of any throne. His
position at the moment was peculiar. He had brought back his victorious
army from the East to Brundisium, and had then disbanded his legions. I
will quote here the opening words from one of Mommsen's chapters:[229]
"When Pompeius, after having transacted the affairs committed to his
charge, again turned his eyes toward home, he found, for the second
time, the diadem at his feet." He says farther on, explaining why Pompey
did not lift the diadem: "The very peculiar temperament of Pompeius
naturally turned once more the scale. He was one of those men who are
capable, it may be, of a crime, but not of insubordination." And again:
"While in the capital all was preparation for receiving the new monarch,
news came that Pompeius, when barely landed at Brundisium, had broken up
his legions, and with a small escort had entered his journey to the
capital. If it is a piece of good-fortune to gain a crown without
trouble, fortune never did more for mortal than it did for Pompeius; but
on those who lack courage the gods lavish every favor and every gift in
vain." I must say here that, while I acknowledge the German historian's
research and knowledge without any reserve, I cannot accept his
deductions as to character. I do not bel