.[280]
Atticus, always wealthy, had now become a very rich man by the death of
an uncle. We do not know of what nature were the money arrangements made
by Cicero at the time, but there can be no doubt that the losses by his
exile were very great. There was a thorough disruption of his property,
for which the subsequent generosity of his country was unable altogether
to atone. But this sat lightly on Cicero's heart. Pecuniary losses never
weighed heavily with him.

As he journeyed back from Vibo to Brundisium friends were very kind to
him, in spite of the law. Toward the end of the speech which he made
five years afterward on behalf of his friend C. Plancius he explains the
debt of gratitude which he owed to his client, whose kindness to him in
his exile had been very great. He commences his story of the goodness of
Plancius by describing the generosity of the towns on the road to
Brundisium, and the hospitality of his friend Flavius, who had received
him at his house in the neighborhood of that town, and had placed him
safely on board a ship when at last he resolved to cross over to
Dyrrachium. There were many schemes running in his head at this time. At
one period he had resolved to pass through Macedonia into Asia, and to
remain for a while at Cyzicum. This idea he expresses in a letter to his
wife written from Brundisium. Then he goes, wailing no doubt, but in
words which to me seem very natural as coming from a husband in such a
condition: "O me perditum, O me afflictum;"[281] exclamations which it
is impossible to translate, as they refer to his wife's separation from
himself rather than to his own personal sufferings. "How am I to ask you
to come to me?" he says; "you a woman, ill in health worn out in body
and in spirit. I cannot ask you! Must I then live without you? It must
be so, I think. If there be any hope of my return, it is you must look
to it, you that must strengthen it; but if, as I fear, the thing is
done, then come to me. If I can have you I shall not be altogether
destroyed." No doubt these are wailings; but is a man unmanly because he
so wails to the wife of his bosom? Other humans have written prettily
about women: it was common for Romans to do so. Catullus desires from
Lesbia as many kisses as are the stars of night or the sands of Libya.
Horace swears that he would perish for Chloe if Chloe might be left
alive. "When I am dying," says Tibullus to Delia, "may I be gazing at
you; may my last gras