But Milo's mind was fastened on the province
which was to redeem his fortunes, and he flung into bribery what was left
of his wrecked credit with the desperation of a gambler. He had not been
praetor, and thus was not legally eligible for the consulate. This,
however, was forgiven. He had been aedile in 54, and as aedile he had
already been magnificent in prodigality. But to secure the larger prize,
he gave as a private citizen the most gorgeous entertainment which even in
that monstrous age the city had yet wondered at. "Doubly, trebly foolish
of him," thought Cicero, "for he was not called on to go to such expense,
and he has not the means." "Milo makes me very anxious," he wrote to his
brother. "I hope all will be made right by his consulship. I shall exert
myself for him as much as I did for myself;[15] but he is quite mad,"
Cicero added; "he has spent L30,000 on his games." Mad, but still, in
Cicero's opinion, well fitted for the consulship, and likely to get it.
All the "good," in common with himself, were most anxious for Milo's
success. The people would vote for him as a reward for the spectacles, and
the young and influential for his efforts to secure their favor.[16]
The reappearance of the "Boni," the "Good," in Cicero's letters marks the
turn of the tide again in his own mind. The "Good," or the senatorial
party, were once more the objects of his admiration.
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