Letters to Atticus Passage 1

de malis nostris tu prius audis quam ego. istim enim emanant. boni autem hinc quod exspectes nihil est. veni Capuam ad Nonas Febr. ita ut iusserant consules. eo die Lentulus venit sero. alter consul omnino non venerat vii Idus. eo enim die ego Capua discessi et mansi Calibus. inde has litteras postridie ante lucem dedi. haec Capuae dum fui cognovi, nihil in consulibus, nullum usquam dilectum. nec enim conquisitores φαινοπροσωπεῖν audent cum ille adsit, contraque noster dux nusquam sit, nihil agat, nec nomina dant. deficit enim non voluntas sed spes. Gnaeus autem noster (o rem miseram et incredibilem!) ut totus iacet! non animus est, non consilium, non copiae, non diligentia. mittam illa, fugam ab urbe turpissimam, timidissimas in oppidis contiones, ignorationem non solum adversari sed etiam suarum copiarum; hoc cuius modi est?

You hear of our misfortunes before I do, for they spread from your direction. From here there is no good news for you to expect. I came to Capua on 5 February as the consuls had ordered. Lentulus arrived late that day. The other consul had still not arrived at all by the seventh, the day I left Capua and stayed at Cales. From there I sent this letter before dawn the next day. While at Capua I learned this: there is nothing in the consuls and no levy anywhere. The recruiting officers do not dare even show their faces while Caesar is near and our commander is nowhere to be found and does nothing, while the men do not give in their names. What fails is not willingness, but hope. As for our Gnaeus, what misery, what an incredible thing, how completely prostrate he is! There is no courage, no plan, no force, no diligence. I pass over his most disgraceful flight from the city, his most timid speeches in the towns, and his ignorance not only of the enemy’s forces but even of his own. What are we to make of this?

Tu apprends nos malheurs avant moi, car c’est de chez vous qu’ils se répandent. D’ici, il ne vient rien de bon à attendre. Je suis arrivé à Capoue pour les nones de février, comme les consuls l’avaient ordonné. Ce jour-là, Lentulus est arrivé tard. L’autre consul n’était toujours pas venu le septième jour avant les ides. Ce jour-là, j’ai quitté Capoue et passé la nuit à Cales; de là, j’ai remis cette lettre le lendemain avant le jour. Voici ce que j’ai appris pendant mon séjour à Capoue: il n’y a rien dans les consuls et aucune levée nulle part. Les recruteurs n’osent pas faire bonne figure en présence de César, alors que notre chef, au contraire, ne se trouve nulle part et ne fait rien; et les hommes ne donnent pas leur nom. Ce n’est pas la volonté qui manque, mais l’espoir. Quant à notre Cnéius, chose misérable et incroyable, comme il est entièrement abattu! Ni courage, ni plan, ni forces, ni diligence. Je passe sur le reste: la fuite si honteuse hors de Rome, ses discours si timides dans les villes, son ignorance non seulement des forces de l’adversaire, mais même des siennes. Que penser de tout cela?