**, 
 
SELECT ORATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 M. T. CICERO. 
 
 TRANSLATED 
 
 BY C, D. YONGE, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 PEARL STREET, FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 188 3. 
 
HARPER'S 
 
 W CLASSICAL LIBRARY. 
 
 COMPIIISIMO LITEEAL TBANSLATI0K8 OP 
 
 AR. 
 
 LUST. 
 ACE. 
 
 enci;. 
 
 IT US. 2 Vols. 
 T. 2 Vols. 
 
 ■:ro'S orations. 
 ero's offices, l.elius, 
 ato major, paradoxes, 
 scipio's dream, letter 
 
 10 QUI NT US. 
 
 3R0 ON ORATORY AND 
 
 ORATORS. 
 
 PLATO (SELECT 
 
 CICERO'S TU3CULAN DISPUTA- 
 TIONS, THE NATURE OF THE 
 GODS, AND THE COMMON- 
 WEALTH. 
 
 JUVENAL. 
 
 XENOPHON. 
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. 
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. 
 
 HERODOTUS. 
 
 DEMOSTHENES. 2 Volt, 
 
 THUCYDIDES. 
 
 AESCHYLUS. 
 
 SOPHOCLES. 
 
 EURIPIDES. 2 Vols. 
 DIALOGUES). 
 
 12mo, Clotb, $1 00 per Volume. 
 
 •Ell & Bhotiiees vill tend either </ the above work* by nv.il, postengt irtpeid, to ob» 
 pari V the United States or Canada, on receipt o/ th. p nci, 
 
 • *-.. 
 

 o 
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 53 
 97 
 
 237 
 
 249 
 
 PAGW 
 
 First Oration against Catiline...... 
 
 • Second Oration against Catiline 15 
 
 .Third Oration against Catiline...; 2< J 
 
 Fourth Oration against Catiline 
 
 Oration for L. Marena 
 
 Oration for P. Svlla • 
 
 1 C 4 
 
 : Oration for A. L. Archias ±0 * 
 
 ration in Defense of the proposed ManilianLavr 147 
 
 , Oration for T. A. Milo 17i 
 
 . oio 
 
 K)ration for C. K.Postumus - 1 
 
 Oration for M. C. MarceH«s 
 
 Oration for Q. Ligarius 
 
 Oration for King Deiotarus - UJ 
 
 The Focktees Or.ATio.NS against M. Astosicb, cai*bd Pmunncs. 
 
 The First Philippic 281 
 
 008 
 
 The Second Philippe -°° 
 
 The Third Philippic ■••"•SiE 
 
 The Fourth Philippic 3G * 
 
 The Fifth Philippic 3:0 
 
 The Sixth Philippic * 392 
 
 The Seventh Philippic 401 
 
 The Eighth Philippic 41C 
 
 The Ninth Philippic 423 
 
 The Tenth Philippic • 43C 
 
 The Eleventh Philippic *~ J 
 
 The Twelfth Philippic 4GC 
 
 The Thirteenth Philippic * u 
 
 The Fourteenth Philippic *** 
 
 Fourth Book of the Second Pleading in the Prosecution of Verres 
 — Eespecting the Statues 
 
 12 
 
SELECT ORATIONS OF CICERO. 
 
 THE FIRST ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST LUCIUS 
 
 ^ CATILINE. 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE SENATE. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Ldciu" Catiline, a man of noble extraction, and -who had already been 
 praeior, had been a competitor of Cicero's for the consulship ; the 
 year he again offered himself for the office, practicing such excessive 
 \ud open bribery, that Cicero published a new law again ith the 
 
 additional penalty of ten years' exile ; prohibiting likewise all sh 
 of gladiators from being exhibited bj a candidate within two yea 
 the time of his suing for any mag. , ordered by 
 
 the will of a person deceased. Oatiime, who knew this law to be 
 aimed chiefly at him, for to mu;. :ero and some oth- 
 
 ers of the chief men of the senate, on the day of election, which 
 fixed for the twentieth of October. But Cicero had information of his 
 plai : im before the senate, on which the election was 
 
 * ferred. that they might have time to deliberate on an affair of so much 
 ^>ortancc. The day following, when the senate met. he charged < 
 line with having entertained this design, and Catiline's behavior 
 beeji so violent, that the seriate passed the decree to which they had 
 urse in times of imminent danger from treason or se- 
 dition : '• Let I .suls take care that the republic su. 1 harm." 
 decree invested the consuls with absolute power, ann ded 
 he ordinary forms of la^', till the danger was over. On this Ci< 
 ibled his guards, introduced some additional troops into tl 
 and when the elections came on, he w^ore a breast-plate under his robe 
 for his protection : by which precaution he prevented Catiline I 
 executing his design of murdering him and his competitors for the con- 
 sulship, of wmom Decius Junius Silanus and Lucius Licinius Murera 
 re elected. 
 
 rendered desperate by this his second defeat, and resolv 
 rther delay to attempt the execution of all his schemes, 
 greatest hopes lay in Sylla's veteran 8< Idiers, whose : ; . al- 
 
 ps espoused. They ■ 
 and colonies of Italv ; bi eniisted a considcrab',« 1 
 
 A 
 
% CKEKO.s ORATIONS. 
 
 of them in Etruria, and formed them into a little army under the com- 
 mand of Manlius, a centurion of considerable military experience, who 
 v. as only waiting for his orders. He was joined in his conspiracy by 
 several senators of profligate lives and desperate fortunes, of whom the 
 chiefs were Publius Cornelius Lentulus, Caius Cethegus, Publius Au- 
 tronius, Lucius Cassias Longinus, Marcus Porcius Lecca, Publius Syl- 
 la, Servilius Sylla, Ouintus Curius, Lucius Vargunteius, Quintus An- 
 nius, and Lucius Bestia. These men resolved that a general insurrec- 
 tion should be raised throughout all Italy ; that Catiline should put 
 himself at the head of the troops in Etruria; that Rome should be set 
 on fire in many places at once ; and that a general massacre should 
 be made of all the senate, and of all their enemies, of whom none 
 were to be spared but the sons of Pompey, who were to be kept as 
 hostages, and as a check upon their father, who was in command in 
 the East. Lentulus was to be president of their councils, Cassius was 
 to manage the firing of the city, and Cethegus the massacre. But, as 
 the vigilance of Cicero was the greatest obstacle to their success, Cati- 
 line desired to see him slain before he left Rome ; and two knights, 
 parties to the conspiracy, undertook to visit him early on pretense of 
 business, and to kill him in his bed. The name of one of them was 
 Caius Cornelius. 
 Cicero, however, had information of all the designs of the conspirators, 
 as by the intrigues of a woman called Fulvia, the mistress of Curius, 
 he had (rained him over, and received regularly from him an account 
 of all their operations. He sent for some of the chief men of the city, 
 and informed them of the plot against himself, and even of the names 
 of the knights who were to come to his house, and of the hour at 
 which they were to come. When they did come they found the house 
 carefully guarded and all admission refused to them. He was enabled 
 also to disappoint an attempt made by Catiline to seize on the town 
 of Prameste, which was a very strong fortress, and would have been of 
 great use to him. The meeting of the conspirators had taken pla.c? on 
 the evening of the sixth of November. On the eighth Cicero sum- 
 moned the senate to meet in the temple of Jupiter in the Capitol, a 
 place which was only used lor this purpose on occasions of great dan- 
 ger. (There had been previously several debates on the subject of 
 Catiline's treasons and design of murdering Cicero, and a public »• 
 ward had actually been offered to the first discoverer of the plot. But 
 Catiline had nevertheless continued to dissemble ; had offered to give 
 security for his behavior, and to deliver himself to the custody of any 
 one whom the senate chose to name, even to that of Cicero himself) 
 Catiline had the boldness to .attend this meeting, and all the senate* 
 even his own most particular acquaintance, were so astonished at his 
 impudence that none of them would salute him ; the consular senators 
 quitted that part of the house in which he sat, and left the bench emp- 
 ty; and ( 'icero himself was so provoked at his audacity, that, instead 
 of entering on any formal business, lie addressed himself directlj to 
 Catili: e in the following invective 
 
 I. When, Catiline, i moan to >■ abusing our 
 
 patience 1 ! I low long is thai madness of yours Mill to mock 
 ii .' When i.- thi :«■ to be an on iat unbridled aud 
 
i. agai:> : .. m 
 
 agojering about as it does now? Do not 'ighty 
 
 atine Hill — do not the watches posted 
 
 ihe city — does no larm of the people, and 
 
 • union of all good men — does not the precaution taken of 
 
 ^nbling the senate in this moa nsible place — do not the 
 
 >ks and countenances of thre 1 venerable body here present, 
 
 have any effect upon you? Do you not feel that your plans 
 
 detected ! Do you not see that your conspiracy is already 
 
 arrested and rendered powerless by the knowledge which 
 
 one here po What is there that you did 
 
 what the nieht before — where is it that vou were — who 
 that you summoned to meet you — what design was 
 which was adopted by you, with which you think ti 
 of us is unacquainted ? 
 Shame on the age and c; principles! The senate 
 
 are of these things ; the consul sees them ; and yet this 
 .11 lives. lives ! ay, he com. n into the senate. He 
 
 a part in the public deliberations ; he is watching and 
 marking down and checking off for sla r every inch vidua! 
 
 And we, gallant men I e are, think that we 
 
 doing our duty to the republic if we keep out of the way 
 of his phren-ied attacks. 
 
 You ought, O ( atiline. long ago to have been led to execu- 
 tion by command of the consul. That desl n which you 
 e been long plotting against us ought to have already fali- 
 €i^ on ; i •: oy v- 1. ad. 
 
 Did not th; t illustrious man, Pul 
 
 the Pontife> imus, in his capacity of a private citizon, , 
 
 ith Tiberius Gracchus, though but slightly undermining 
 Destitution? And shall we, who are the consuls, tolerate 
 .ie, opeidy desirous to destroy the whole world with I 
 and sli For I pass over oMer instances, such 
 
 how ( hala with his own hand slew Spur 
 
 lotting duiion in the state. There was — 
 
 ich virtue in this republic, that brave m 
 ievous citizens with severer chastisenu 
 in the most bitter enemy. For we have a resolution 2 of 
 
 ; This was Scioto Nasica, who called on the consul Mucius Scsevo! 
 id save the republic; but as he refused to put 
 . lout a trial, Scipi. on all the citizens to follow hi:, 
 
 which has bad occup "h* his par 
 
 I slew many of the partisans of Gracchus, and Gracchus him- 
 
 ->n was couched in the form " Videant Consules ne- 
 
4 CICERO'S ORATlU.Ns 
 
 the senate, a formidable and authoritative decree against you, 
 O Catiline ; the "u isdom of the republic is not at fault, nor I 
 dignity of this senatorial body. We, we alone — I say it ope 
 — we, the consuls, are wanting in our duty. 
 
 II. The senate once passed a decree that Lucius Opimi , . . 
 the consul, should take care that the republic suffered no injury. 
 Not one night elapsed. There was put to death, on so 
 mere suspicion of disaffection, Caius Gracchus, a man wb 
 family had borne the most unblemished reputation for many 
 generations. There was slain Marcus Fulvius, a man of con- 
 sular rank, and all his children. By a like decree of the sen- 
 ate the safety of the republic was intrusted to Caius Marius 1 
 and Lucius Valerius, the consuls. Did not the vengeance of 
 the republic, did not execution overtake Lucius Saturninus, a 
 tribune of the people, and Caius Servilius, the praetor, jarithflnt 
 the delay of one single day? But we, for4hese twenty day , 
 have been allowing the edge of the senate's authority to grow 
 blunt, as it were. For we are in possession of a similar de- 
 cree of the senate, but we keep it locked up in its parchment 
 " — buried, I may say, in the sheath ; and according to this de- 
 cree you ought, O Catiline, to be put to death tin- instant. 
 You live — and you live, not to lay aside, but to persist in your 
 audacity. 
 
 I wish, O conscript fathers, to be merciful ; I wish noi 
 appear negligent amid such danger to the state ; but I do now 
 accuse myself of remissness and culpable inactivity. A camp 
 is pitched in Italy, at the entrance of Etmria, in hostility to 
 the republic; the number of the enemy increases every day; 
 and yet the general of that camp, the leader of those enemies, 
 we see within the walls — ay, and even in the senate — plan- 
 ning every day some internal injury to the republic*. If. O 
 Catiline, I should now order you to be arrested, to be put to 
 death, I should, T suppose, have to fear lest all good nun should 
 
 . that I had acted tardily, rather than that any one should 
 affirm that I acted cruelly. But yet this, which ought to 
 have been done long since, I have good reason for not doing 
 as yet ; I will put you to death, then, when there shall be noi 
 
 publica detriment] capiat :" ami it exempted the consuls from all ob- 
 ligation to attend to the ordinary forme of law, and invested ihem with 
 absolute power over the lives of all the citizens who were intrigurnj 
 against the republic. 
 
 1 This is the same incidi nt that ia the subject of the preceding ova 
 in defense of Rabirius 
 
1. AGAINST TILINE. 
 
 
 one person possible to be found so wicked, so abandoned, 
 like your is not to allow that it has been rightly done. 
 
 As long as one person exists who can id you, you 
 
 shall live; but you shall live >u do now, surrounded by 
 
 many and trusty guards, so that you shall not be able to 
 stir one fing ublic : man t and * 
 
 still ol b you, as they I dtherto d 
 
 you shall not perceive th< 
 
 III. For what is there, O Catiline, that you can still exp 
 
 if night is not able to veil your nefarious meetings in dark- 
 ss, and if private houses can not conceal the voice of your 
 conspiracy within their walls — if every thing is seen and <i 
 played f Change your mind : trust me : forget the slaughter 
 und conflagration you are meditatir You are hemmec 
 all sides; all your plan learer than the day to us; 
 
 j ae remind j*ou of them. Do you recollect that on the 21st 
 of October I said in the senate, that on a certain day, which 
 s to be the 27th of October, C. Manlius, th iiite and 
 
 vant of your audacity, would be in arms 1 Was I mistab 
 Catiline, not only in so important, so atrocious, so incredible 
 a fact, but, what is much more remarkable, in the y? 
 
 I said also in the senate that you had fixed the massacre of 
 the nobles for the 28th of October, when many chief men of 
 the senate had left Home, not so much for the sake of saving 
 the as of checking your designs. Can you deny that 
 
 ery day you were so hemmed in by my 
 my vigilance, thai you were unable to stir one fin gainst 
 
 the republic; when you said that you would be content wil 
 
 t of the rest, and the . titer of us who remai 
 
 What? v it you would h 
 
 Prs .irst of November by a nocturnal k, did 
 
 i not find that that colony was fortified by my ordei 
 on, by my watchfulr; d care ? You do 
 
 ing, you plan nothing, think of nothing which I not only do 
 not h • I do not - 
 
 of. 
 
 IV. Listen while I speak of the night befo Yoi 
 nov hat i watch tar more actively for th 
 
 do for tl ruction of the republic I say I 
 
 the night before (1 will" say nothing obscurely) int 
 
 , to the house of Marcus I 
 ■ 
 
t; CICERO'S ORATIONS, 
 
 ness came there too. Do you dare to deny it ? "Why are you 
 silent? I will prove it if you do deny it; for I see here in 
 the senate some men who were there with you. 
 
 O ye immortal Gods, where on earth are we ? in what city 
 are we living? what constitution is ours? There are here — 
 here in our body, O conscript fathers, in this the most holy 
 and dignified assembly of the whole world, men who meditate 
 my death, and the death of all of us, and the destruction of 
 this city, and of the whole world. I, the consul, see them ; I 
 ask them their opinion about the republic, and I do not yet at- 
 tack, even by words, those who ought to be put to death by 
 the sword. You were, then, O Catiline, at Lecca's that night ; 
 you divided Italy into sections ; you settled where every one 
 was to go j you fixed whom you were to leave at Rome, wh<oni 
 you were to take with you ; you portioned out the divisions 
 of the city for conflagration ; you undertook that you yourself 
 would at once leave the city, and said that there was then 
 only this to delay you, that I was still alive. Two Roman 
 knights were found to deliver you from this anxiety, and to 
 promise that very night, before daybreak, to slay me in my 
 bed. All this I knew almost before your meeting had broken 
 up. I strengthened and fortified my house with a stronger 
 guard ; I refused admittance, when they came, to those whom 
 you sent in the morning to salute me, and of "whom I had fore- 
 told to many eminent men that they would come to me at that 
 time. 
 
 V. As, then, this is the case, O Catiline, continue as you 
 have begun. Leave the city at last : the gates are open ; 
 depart. That Manlian camp of yours has been waiting too 
 long for you as its general. And lead forth with you all your 
 friends, or at least as many as you can ; purge the city of 
 your presence ; you will deliver me from a great fear, when 
 there is a wall between me and you. Among us you can 
 dwell no longer — I will not bear it, I will not permit it, I will 
 not tolerate i1 Great thanks are due to the immortal god-, 
 and to this very Jupiter Stator, in whose temple we are, the 
 most ancient protector of this city, that we have already so 
 often escaped so foul, so horrible, and so deadly an enemy to 
 l!,e republic. BuMhe safety of the commonwealth must not 
 In' too often allowed to be risked on one man. As long 
 you, O Catiline, plotted against me while I was the consul 
 elect, I defended myself not with a public guard, but bj my 
 
I. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 7 
 
 own private diligence. When, in the next consular comitia, 
 vou wished to slay me when I was actually consul, and your 
 competitors also, in the Campus Marti us, I checked your nefari- 
 ous attempt by the assistance and resources of my own friends, 
 without exciting any disturbance publicly. In short, as often 
 as you attacked me, I by myself opposed you, and that, too, 
 though I saw that my ruin was connected with great disaster 
 
 1 .he republic. But now you are openly attacking the entire 
 republic. 
 
 You are summoning to destruction and devastation the tem- 
 ples of the immortal gods, the houses of the .city, the lives of 
 all the citizens; in short, all Italy. / x Wherefore, since I do not 
 yet venture to do that which is the best thing, and which 1 
 longs to my office and to the discipline of our ancestors, I will 
 do that which is more merciful if we regard its rigor, and 
 more expedient for the state. For if I order you to be put 
 to death, the rest of the conspirators will still remain in the 
 republic ; if, as I have long been exhorting you, you depart, 
 your companions, these worthless dregs of the republic, will 
 be drawn off from the city too. What is the matter, Cati- 
 line? Do you hesitate to do that when I order you which you 
 were already doing of your own accord? The consul orders 
 an enemy to depart from the city. Do you ask me, Are you 
 to go into banishment ? I do not order it ; but, if you con- 
 sult me, I advise it. 
 
 VI. For what is there, O Catiline, that can now afford you 
 any pleasure in this city '. for there is no one in it, except that 
 band of profligate conspirators of yours, who does not fear you 
 — no one who does not hate you. What brand of domestic 
 baseness is not stamped upon your life ? What disgraceful 
 circumstance is wanting to your infamy in your private af- 
 fairs ? From what licentiousness have your eyes, from what 
 atrocity have your hands, from what iniquity has your whole 
 body ever abstained? Is there one youth, when you have 
 once entangled him in the temptations of your corruption, to 
 whom you have not held out a sword for audacious crime, or 
 a torch for licentious wickeclu. 
 
 What? when lately by the death of your former wife you 
 had made your house empty and ready for a new bridal, did 
 you not even add another incredible wickedness to this wicked- 
 ness? But I pass that over, and willingly allow it to be bur- 
 ied in silence, that so horrible a crime may not be s< ve 
 
S CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 existed in this city, and not to have been chastised. I pa 
 over the ruin of your fortune, which you know is hanging over 
 you against the ides of the very next month ; I come to those 
 things which relate not to the infamy of your private vices, not 
 to your domestic difficulties and baseness, but to the welfare of 
 the republic and to the lives and safety of us all. 
 
 Can the light of this life, O Catiline, can the breath of this 
 'mosphere be pleasant to you, when you know that there is 
 not one man of those here present who is ignorant that you, on 
 the last day of the year, when Lepidus and Tullus were con- 
 suls, stood in the assembly armed ; that you had prepared your 
 hand for the slaughter of the consuls and chief men of the 
 state, and that no reason or fear of yours hindered your crime 
 and madness, but the fortune of the republic ? And I say no 
 more of these things, for they are not unknown to avery one. 
 How often have you endeavored to shiv m£, both as consul 
 elect and as actual consul ? uoav nianyS^Stjpof yours, so aimed 
 that they seemed impossible to be escaped, have I avoided by 
 some slight stooping aside, and some dodging, as it were, of my 
 body? You attempt nothing, you execute nothing, you devise 
 nothing that can be kept hid from me at the proper time ; and 
 yet you do not cease to attempt and to contrive. How often 
 already has that dagger of yours been Avrested from your hand.- I 
 how often has it slipped through them by some chance, and 
 dropped down? and yet you can not any longer do without 
 it ; and to'what sacred mysteries it is consecrated and devol 1 
 by you I know not, that you. think it necessary to plunge it in 
 
 the hotly yf the ermsnl 
 
 VII. But now, what is that life of yours that you are lead- 
 ing? For I will speak to you not so as to seem influenced 
 by the hatred I ought to feel, but by pity, nothing of winch 
 is due to you. You came a little while ago into the senate : 
 in so numerous an assembly, who of so many friends and con- 
 nections of yours saluted you ? If this in the memory of man 
 never happened to any one else, are you waiting for insults by 
 word of mouth, when you arc overwhelmed by the most irre- 
 -tible condemnation of silence? Is it nothing that at your 
 arrival all those Beats were vacated ? that all the men of con- 
 sular rank, who had often been marked out by you tor slaugh- 
 ter, the very moment you sat down, left that pari of the 
 benches bare and vacant I With what feelings do you think 
 you ought to bear (his? On my honor, if my slaves fear 
 
i! 
 
 II. AGAINST L. CATILr \ , 
 
 saw the enemy without disguise. But how exceedingly 1 think 
 
 this enemy to be feared now that he is out of doors, you may 
 
 • from this — that I am vexed even that he ! ne from the 
 
 y with but a small retinue. I wish lie had taken with him 
 
 all his forces. He has taken with him Tongillus, with whom 
 
 he had been said to have a criminal intimacy, and Publicius, 
 
 and Munatius. whose debts contracted in taverns could can 
 
 no great disquietude to the republic. He has left behind him 
 
 pthers — you all know what men they are, how overwhelmed 
 
 jttith debt, how powerful, how noble. 
 
 III. Therefore, with our Gallic legions, and with the le 
 wiiich Quintus Metellus has raised in the Picenian and Gallic 
 territory, and with these troops which are every day being got, 
 ready by us, I thoroughly despise that army composed of d 
 perate old men, of clownish profligates, and uneducated spend- 
 thrifts ; of those who have preferred to desert their bail rather 
 than that army, and which will fall to pieces if I show them 
 not the battle array of our army, but an edict of the praetor. 
 I wish he had taken with him those soldiers of his, whom I 
 see hovering about the forum, standing about the senate-house, 
 even coming into tha senate, who shine with ointment, who 
 glitter in purple ; and if they remain here, remember that that 
 army is not so much to be feared by us as these men who have 
 deserted the army. And they are the more to be feared, be- 
 cause they are aware that I know what they are thinking of, 
 and y>A they are not influenced by it. 
 
 I know to whom Apulia has been allotted, who has Etru- 
 ria, who the Picenian territory, who the Gallic district, who 
 has. begged for himself the office of spreading fire and sword 
 by night through the city. They know that all the plans 
 
 the preceding night are brought to me. I laid th 
 before the senate yesterday. Catiline himself was alarmed, 
 fled. Why do these men wait 1 ? :ily, they are greatly 
 
 taken if they think that former lenity of mine will last 
 .forever. 
 
 IV. What I have been waiting for, that I have gained— 
 namely, that you should all see that a conspiracy has been 
 openly formed against the republic ; unless, iiw there be 
 any one who thinks that those who are like Catiline do not 
 
 h Catiline. There is not any longer room for lenii 
 the business itself demands severity. One thing, even now. 
 will graat — let them depart, let them begone. Let th 
 
»«* 
 
 IS CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 not suffer the unhappy Catiline to pine away for want of 
 them. I will tell them the road. He went by the Auredan 
 road. If they make haste, they will catch him by iho 
 evening. O happy republic, if it can cast forth these dregs oi' 
 the republic! Even now, when Catiline alone is got rid of, 
 the republic Beema to me relieved and refreshed; for what e\ il 
 or wickedness can be devised or imagined which he did not 
 conceive \ What prisoner, what gladiator, what thief, what 
 sassin, what parricide, what forger of wills, what cheat, 
 what debauchee, what spendthrift, what adulterer, what 
 abandoned woman, what corrupter of youth, what profli- 
 gate, what scoundrel can be found in all Italy, who does not 
 avow that he has been on terms of intimacy with Catiline ? 
 What murder has been committed for years without him % 
 What nefarious act of infamy that has not been done by 
 him . ; 
 
 But in what other man were there ever so many allurements 
 for youth as in him, who both indulged in infamous love for 
 others, and encouraged their infamous affections for himself, 
 promising to some enjoyment of their lust, to others the death 
 of their parents, and not only instigating them to iniquity, 
 but even assisting them in it. But now, how suddenly had 
 he collected, not only out of the city, but even out of the 
 country, a number of abandoned men ? No one, not only at 
 Rome, but in every corner of Italy, was overwhelmed with 
 debt whom he did not enlist in this incredible association of 
 wickedness. 
 
 V. And, that you may understand the diversity of his pur- 
 suits, and the variety of his designs, there was no one in any 
 school of gladiators, at all inclined to audacity, who does not 
 avow himself to be an intimate friend of Catiline — no one on 
 the stage, at all of a fickle and worthless disposition, who does 
 not profess himself his companion. And he, trained in the 
 practice of insult and wickedness, in enduring cold, and hun- 
 ger, and thirst, and watching, was called a brave man by those 
 fellows, while all the appliances of industry and instruments 
 of virtue were devoted to lust and atrocity. 
 
 But if his companions follow him — if the infamous herd of 
 
 operate men depart from the city, O happy shall we be. for- 
 tunate will be the republic, illustrious Avill lie the renown of 
 my consulship. For theirs is no ordinary insolence — no com- 
 mon and endurable audacity. They think of nothing but 
 
II. AGAINST L. CATILINE. lU 
 
 slaughter, conflagration, and rapine. They hav ipated 
 
 their patrimonies, they have squandered their fortunes. Mon- 
 ey has long failed them, and now credit begins to fail; but I 
 same desir- 8 remain which they had in their I 
 ance. But if in their drinking and gambling 
 were content with feasts and harlots, they would bo in a hopc- 
 
 s state indeed ; but yet they might be endured. But who 
 can bear this — that indolent men should plot against I 
 bravest ; drunkards against the sober ; men asleep against men 
 awake ; men lying at feasts, embracing abandoned women, lan- 
 guid with wine, crammed with food, crowned with chapl 
 reeking with ointments, worn out with lust, belch out in their 
 discourse the murder of all good men, and the. conflagration 
 of the city ? 
 
 But I am confident that some fate is hanging over these men ; 
 and that the punishment long since due to their iniquity, and 
 worthies- and wickedness, and lust, is either visibly at 
 
 hand or at least rapidly approaching. And if my consulship 
 shall have removed, since it can not cure them, it will have 
 added, not some brief span, but many ages of existence to the 
 republic. For there is no nation for us to fear — no king who 
 can make war on the Roman people. All foreign affairs 
 tranquilked, both by land and sea, by the valor of one man. 
 Domestic war alone remains. The only plots against us 
 within our own walls — the danger is within — the enemy is 
 within. We must war with luxury, with madness, with wit 
 edness. For this war, O citizens, I offer myself as the g> 
 eral. I take on myself the enmity of profligate men. What 
 can be cured, I will cure, by whatever means it may be possi- 
 ble. What must be cut away. I will not suffer to S] . 1 . 
 the ruin of the republic. Let them depart, or let them stay 
 quiet ; or if they remain in the city and in the same disp< 
 tion as at present, let them expect what they deserve. 
 
 VI. But there are men, O Romans, who say that Catili 
 J^has been driven by me into banishment. But if I con 
 so by a word, I would drive but those also who say so. Fc 
 sooth, that timid, that excessively bashful man coi 
 the voice of the consul: as soon as he was ordered to go h 
 banishment, he obeyed, he was quiet. Yesterday, 
 been all but murdered at my own house, I coin 
 senate in the temple of Jupiter Stator ; I related th 
 affair to the conscript fathers; and when 
 
20 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 thither, -what senator addressed him ? who saluted him ? whG 
 looked upon him not so mueh even as an abandoned citizen, 
 as an implacable enemy ? Nay the chiefs of that body left 
 that part of the benches to which he came naked and empty. 
 
 On this I, that violent consul, who drive citizens into exile 
 by a word, asked of Catiline whether he had been at the noc- 
 turnal meeting at Marcus Lecca's, or not; when that most 
 audacious man, convicted by his own conscience, was at first 
 silent. I related all the other circumstances ; I described what 
 he had done that night, where he had been, what he had ar- 
 ranged for the next night, how the plan of the whole war had 
 1-eer laid down by him. When he hesitated, when he was 
 convicted, I asked why he hesitated to go whither he had been 
 long preparing to go ; when I knew that arms, that the axes, 
 the fasces, and trumpets, and military standards, and that sil- 
 ver eagle to which he had made a shrine in his own house, had 
 been sent on, did I drive him into exile who I knew had al- 
 ready entered upon war? I suppose Manlius, that centurion 
 who has pitched his camp in the F&sulan district, has pro- 
 claimed war against the Roman people in his own name ; and 
 that camp is not now waiting for Catiline as its general, and 
 -he, driven forsooth into exile, will go to Marseilles, as they say, 
 and not to that camp. 
 
 VH. O the hard lot of those, not only of those who govern, 
 but even of those who save the republic. Now, if Lucius 
 Catiline, hemmed in and rendered powerless by my cow - ••!-. 
 by my toils, by my dangers, should on a sudden become 
 alarmed, should change his designs, should desert his friends, 
 Lould abandon his design of making war, should change his 
 
 <ii from this course of wickedness and war, and betake him- 
 self to flight and exile, he will not be said to have beeo 
 deprived by me of the arms of his audacity, to have been 
 
 bounded and terrified by my diligence, to have been driven 
 
 from his hope and from his enterprise, but, uncondemned and 
 
 innocent, to have been driven into banishment by the consul 
 
 by threat^ and violence; and there will be some who will 
 
 to have him thought not worthless but unfortunate, 
 
 d int' considi red not a most active consul, but a most cruel 
 
 rant. I am not unwilling, O Romans, to endure this storm 
 of false and unjust unpopularity as long as the danger of this 
 horrible and nefarious war is warded oil' from you. Let him 
 be said to be banished by me as lon<_r as he -. .< es into banish 
 
II. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 
 
 
 ment ; but, believe me, he will not go. I will nev 
 the immortal gods, O Romans, for the sake o 
 own unpopularity, for you to hear that Lucius 
 ing an army of enemies, and is hovering aboi 
 yet in three days yoii^jwlHreariT: — Arrd-£~nm 
 that it will be objected to me some day or otiiv that I ni 
 let him escape, rather than that I have banished him. 
 when there are men w r ho say he has been bani. ! e 
 has gone away, what would these men say if 1 ; been - 
 to death 1 
 
 \ Although those men who keep saying that ( ing 
 
 to Marseilles do not complain' df this so much it ; 
 
 for there is not one of them so inclined to pity, fer 
 
 that he should go to Manlius rather than to Marseil] But 
 
 he, if he had never before planned what he is now doinj 
 would rather be slain while living as a bandit, I 
 exile; but now, when nothing has happened to I 
 to his owti wish and design — except, indeed, that h 
 Rome while we are alive — let us wish rather that he may go. 
 into exile than complain of it. 
 
 VLLT. But why are we speaking so long ab ;iemy; 
 
 and about that enemy who now avows that 
 whom I now do not fear, because, as I have al d, a 
 
 wall is betw r een us ; and are saying nothing a ho 
 
 dissemble, who remain at Rome, who are amor Whon 
 
 indeed, if it were by any means possible, I slit 
 not so much to chastise as to cure, and to e ' j to 
 
 the republic; nor, if they will listen to me, d ow 
 
 why that may not be. For I will tell you. ■■ >mai 
 what classes of men those forces are made uj . I 
 
 can, I will apply to each the medicine of my 
 suasion. 
 
 There is one class of them, who, with enormr-u- 
 still greater possessions, and wdio can by no mean 
 tached from their aifection to them. Of thee- iiei th< i 
 pearance is most respectable, for they are wealthy, but their 
 intention and their cause are most shameless. be 
 
 rich in lands, in houses, in money in slaves, ir 
 yet hesitafe ■ is to a 
 
 What ' AVI. 
 
 tat ion 
 will b 
 
22 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 They are mistaken who expect that from Catiline. There 
 may be schedules made out. owing to my exertions, but they 
 will be only catalogues of sale. Nor can those who have pos- 
 sessions be sale by any other means ; and if they had been will- 
 ing to adopt this plan earlier, and not, as is very foolish, to 
 struggle on against usury with the profits of their forms, we 
 should have them now richer and better citizens. But I think 
 these men are the least of all to be dreaded, because they can 
 either be persuaded to abandon their opinions, or if they cling 
 to them, they seem to me more likely to form wishes against 
 the republic than to bear arms against it. 
 
 IX. There is another class of them, who, although they are 
 harassed by debt, yet are expecting supreme power ; they wish 
 to become masters. They think that when the republic is in 
 confusion they may gain those honors which they despair of 
 when it is in tranquillity. And they must, I think, be told 
 the same as every one else — to despair of obtaining what they 
 are aiming at ; that in the first place, I myself am watchful 
 for, am present to, am providing for the republic. Besides 
 that, there is a high spirit in the virtuous citizens, great una- 
 nimity, great numbers, and also a large body of troops. Above 
 all that, the immortal gods will stand by and bring aid to this 
 invincible nation, this most illustrious empire, this most beau- 
 tiful city, against such wicked violence. And if they had al- 
 ready got that which they with the greatest madness wish for, 
 do they think that in the ashes of the city and blood of the 
 citizens, which in their wicked and infamous hearts they desire, 
 they will become consuls and dictators, and even kings'? Do 
 they not see that they are wishing for that which, if they were 
 to obtain it, must be given up to some fugitive slave, or to 
 some gladiator ? 
 
 There is a third class, already touched by age, but still 
 vigorous from constant exercise; of which class is Manlius 
 himself, whom Catiline is now succeeding. These are men 
 of those colonics which Sylla established at Fs&sulae, which I 
 know to be composed, on the whole, of excellent citizens and 
 brave men; hut yet these are colonists, who, from becoming 
 possessed of unexpected and sudden wealth, boast them- 
 selves extravagantly and insolently; these men, while they 
 build like rich men. while thev delight in farms, in litters, 
 in vast families of slaves, in luxurious banquets, have in- 
 curred such great debts, that, if they would bs ■■•'■ '- ti 
 
II. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 23 
 
 must raise Sylla from the dead ; and they have even excited 
 some countrymen, poor and needy men, to en tertain, the. same. 
 
 hopes-of-p lunder ~ aa tlY emselves. /And all these men, O Ko 
 mans, I place in the same class of robbers and banditti. But, 
 I warn them, let them cease to be mad, and to think of pro- 
 scriptions and dictatorships; for such a horror of these times 
 is ingrained into the city, that not even men, but it seems 
 to me that even the jvery cattle woul d refuse to bear them 
 
 again 
 
 V X. Therels a fourth class, various, promiscuous, and tur- 
 bulent ; who indeed are now overwhelmed ; who will never 
 recover themselves ; who, partly from indolence, partly from 
 managing their affairs badly, partly from extravagance, are 
 embarrassed by old debts ; and worn out with bail-bonds, and 
 judgments, and seizures of their goods, are said to be betaking 
 themselves in numbers to that camp both from the city and the 
 country. These men I think not so much active soldiers as 
 lazy insolvents ; who, if they can not stand at first, may fall, 
 but fall so, that not only the city but even their nearest neigh- 
 bors know nothing of it. For I do not understand why, if 
 they can not live with honor, they should wish to die shame- 
 fully ; or why they think they shall perish with less pain in a 
 crowd, than if they perish by themselvej^ 
 
 There is a fifth 'class, of parricides, afe?sinsjb short of all 
 infamous- characters, whom I do not wis^HHpll trom Cati- 
 line, and indeed they can not be separaM^Km him. Let 
 them perish in their' wicked war, since they are so numerous 
 that a prison can not contain them. 
 
 There is a last class, last not only in number but in the 
 sort of men and in their way of life ; the especial body-guard 
 of Catiline, of his levying ; ay, the friends of his embraces and 
 of his bosom; whom you see with carefully combed hair, 
 glossy, beardless, or with well-trimmed beards ; with tunics 
 with' sleeves, or reaching to the ankles ; clothed with \eils, not 
 with robes ; all the industry of whose life, all the labor of 
 whose watchfulness, is expended in suppers lasting till day- 
 break. 
 
 se ban . H gaml 
 
 ■ 
 
24 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 they die, even should Catiline die, I warn you that the school 
 of Catiline would exist in the republic. But what do those 
 wretches want? Are they going to take their wives with 
 them to the camp? How can they do without them, espe- 
 cially in these nights? and how will they endure the Apen- 
 nines, and these frosts, and this snow ? unless they think that 
 they will bear the winter more easily because they have been 
 in the habit of dancing naked at their feasts. O war much 
 to be dreaded, when Catiline is going to have his body-guard 
 of prostitutes ! 
 
 XI. Array now, O Romans, against these splendid troops 
 of Catiline, your guards and your armies ; and first of all op- 
 pose to that worn-out and wounded gladiator your consuls 
 and generals ; then against that banished and enfeebled troop 
 of ruined men lead out the flower and strength of all Italy : 
 instantly the cities of the colonies and municipalities will 
 match the rustic mounds of Catiline ; and I will not conde- 
 scend to compare the rest of your troops and equipments and 
 guards with the want and destitution of that highwayman. 
 But if, omitting all these things in which we are rich and of 
 which he is destitute — the senate, the Roman knights, the 
 people, the city, the treasury, the revenues, all Italy, all the 
 provinces, ior^j^yfions — if, I say, omitting all these things, 
 we choose to <m Hphe causes themselves which are opposed 
 to one anoth<|^^MEvy understand from that alone how thor- 
 oughly prostrate^ffiey are. For on the one side are fighting 
 modesty, on the other wantonness; on the one chastity, on 
 the other uncleanness ; on the one honesty, on the other 
 fraud ; on the one piety, on the other wickedness : on the one 
 consistency, on the other insanity ; on the one honor, on the 
 other baseness ; on the one continence, on the other lust ; in 
 short, equity, temperance, fortitude, prudence, all the virtues 
 contend against iniquity with luxury, against indolence, against 
 rashness, against all the vices; lastly, abundance contends 
 against destitution, good plans against baffled designs, wisdom 
 against madness, well-founded hope against universal despair. 
 In a contest and war of this sort, even if the zeal of men 
 
 re to tail, will not the immortal gods compel such numer- 
 ous and excessive vices to be defeated by these most eminent 
 vi 1-1 lies I 
 
 XII. And as this is the ease, O Romans, do ye, as 1 have 
 said before, defend your house with guards and vigilance. J 
 
II. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 25 
 
 have taken care and made arrangements that there shall be 
 sufficient protection for the city without distressing you and 
 without any tumult. All the colonists and citizens of your 
 municipal towns, being informed by me of this nocturnal sally 
 of Catiline, will easily defend their cities and territories ; the 
 gladiators which he thought would be his most numerous and 
 most trusty band, although they are better disposed than part 
 of the patricians, will be held in check by our power. Quin- 
 tus Metellus, whom I, making provision for this, sent on to 
 the Gallic and Picenian territory, will either overwhelm the 
 man, or will prevent all his motions and attempts ; but with 
 respect to the arrangement of all other matters, and maturing 
 and acting on our plans, we shall consult the senate, which, 
 as you are aware, is convened. 
 
 Now once more I wish those who have remained in the 
 city, and who, contrary to the safety of the city and of all of 
 you, have been left in the city by Catiline, although they are 
 enemies, yet because they were born citizens, to be warned 
 again and again by me. If my lenity has appeared to any 
 one too remiss, it has been only waiting that that might break 
 out which was lying hid. As to the future, I can not now 
 forget that this is my country, that I ain^^onsul of these 
 citizens ; that I must either live with th&Hfij ftfce for them. 
 There is no guard at the gate, no one^B j against their 
 
 path ; if any one wishes to go, he can prov] r himself; but 
 
 if any one stirs, in the city, and if I detect ql nly any action, 
 but any attempt or design against the counrr^he shall feel 
 that there are in this city vigilant consuls, eminent magis- 
 trates, a brave senate, arms, and prisons ; which our ancestors 
 appointed as the avengers of nefarious and convicted crimes. 
 
 XIII. And all this shall be so done, O Romans, that affairs 
 •of the greatest importance shall be transacted with the least 
 possible disturbance; the greatest dangers shall be avoided 
 without any tumult ; an internal civil war the most cruel and 
 terrible in the memory of man, shall be put an end to by 
 me alone in the robe of peace acting as general and com- 
 mander-in-chief. And this I will so arrange, O Romans, that 
 if it can be by any means managed, even the most worthless 
 man shall not suffpr the punishment of his crimes in this 
 city. But if the violence of open audacity, if danger impend- 
 ing over the republic drives me of necessity from this merci- 
 ful disposition, at all events I will manage this, which seems 
 
 B 
 
26 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 scarcely even to be hoped for in so great and so treacherous a 
 war, that no good man shall fall, and that you may all be 
 saved by the punishment of a few. 
 
 And I promise you this, O Romans, relying neither on my 
 own prudence, nor on human counsels, but on many and man- 
 ifest intimations of the will of the immortal gods ; under whose 
 guidance I first entertained this hope and this opinion ; who 
 are now defending their temples and the houses of the city, not 
 afar off, as they were used to, from a foreign and distant ene- 
 my, but here on the spot, by their own divinity and present 
 help. And you, O Romans, ought to pray to and implore them 
 to defend from the nefarious wickedness of abandoned citizens, 
 now that all the forces of all enemies are defeated by land and 
 sea, this city which they have ordained to be the most beautis 
 ful and flourishing of all cities. 
 
 THE THIRD ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST LUCIUS 
 
 CATILINE. 
 
 RESSED TO THE PEOPLE. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 While Cicero was addressing the preceding speech to the people, a de- 
 bate was going on in the senate of which we have no account. In the 
 mean while Catiline, after staying a few days on the road to raise the 
 country as he passed along, where his agents had been previously busy 
 among the people, proceeded to Manlius's camp with the fasces and all 
 the ensigns of military command displayed before him. Upon this 
 news the senate immediately declared him and Manlius public enemies ; ■ 
 they offered pardon to all his followers who should return to their duty 
 by a certain day ; and ordered the consuls to make new levies, and 
 that Antonius should follow Catiline with his army, and Cicero remain 
 behind to protect the city. 
 
 In the mean time Lentulus, and the other conspirators who remained be- 
 hind, were proceeding with their designs. And among other steps, 
 they decided on endeavoring to tamper with some embassadors from 
 the Allobroges, 1 who were at that moment within the city, as the Allo- 
 broges were supposed not to be very well affected to the Roman power. 
 At first these embassadors appear to have willingly given ear to their 
 
 1 The Allobroges occupied the districts of Dauphine and Savoy. 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 27 
 
 proposals ; but after a while they began to consider the difficulty of 
 the business proposed to them, and the danger which would ensue to 
 their state if it failed after they had become implicated in it ; and ac- 
 cordingly they revealed the business to Quintus Fabius Sanga, the pa- 
 tron of their city, who communicated it to Cicero. Cicero desired the 
 embassadors to continue to listen to the proposals of the conspirators, 
 till they had become fully acquainted with the extent of the plot, and 
 till they were able to furnish him with full evidence against the actors 
 in it ; and by his suggestion they required the conspirators to furnish 
 them with credentials to show to their countrymen. This was thought 
 reasonable by Lentulus and his party, and they accordingly appointed 
 a man named Vulturcius to accompany them, who was to introduce 
 them to Catiline on their road, in order to confirm the agreement, and 
 to exchange pledges with him, and Lentulus also furnished them with 
 a letter to Catiline under his own hand and seal, though not signed. 
 Cicero being privately informed of all these particulars, concerted with 
 the embassadors the time and manner of their leaving Rome by night, 
 and hadthem arrested on the Mulvian bridge, about a mile from the 
 city, with these letters and papers in their possession. This was 
 all done, and they brought as prisoners to Cicero's house early in the 
 morning. 
 Cicero immediately summoned the senate ; and at the same time he sent 
 for Lentulus, Cethegus, and others of the conspirators who were more 
 especially implicated, such as Gabinius and Statilius, who all came 
 immediately to his house, being ignorant of the discovery that had 
 taken place. Being informed also that a quantity of arms had been 
 provided by Cethegus for the purpose of the conspiracy, he orders 
 Caius Sulpicius, one of the praetors, to search his house, and he did so, 
 and found a great number of swords and daggers ready cleaned and fit 
 
 for use. A 
 
 He then proceeds to meet the senate in the Temple of Concord, with the 
 embassadors and conspirators in custody. He ^SPs the whole af- 
 fair to them, and introduces Vulturcius to be examined before them. 
 Cicero, by the order of the senate, promises him pardon and reward if 
 he reveals what he knew. On which he confesses every thing ; tells 
 them that he had letters from Lentulus to Catiline to urge him to 
 avail himself of the assistance of the slaves, and to lead his army with 
 all expedition against Rome ; in order, when the city had been set on 
 fire, and the massacre commenced, that he might be able to intercept 
 and destroy those who fled. 
 
 Then the embassadors were examined, who declared that they had re- 
 ceived letters to the chief men of their nation from Lentulus, Cethe- 
 gus, and Statilius ; and that they, and Lucius Cassius also, begged 
 them to send a body of cavalry into Italy, and that Lentulus assured 
 them, from the Sibylline books, that he was the third 1 Cornelius who 
 was destined to reign at Rome. The letters were produced and opened. 
 On the sight of them the conspirators respectively acknowledged them 
 to be theirs, and Lentulus was even so conscience-stricken that he con- 
 f-r-cpj h; s whole crime. 
 e senat d a vote acknow ing the services of Cicero in the 
 
 1 China and Sylla had been the two former Cornelii. 
 
28 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mos* ample terms, and voted that Lentulus should be deposed from his 
 office of praetor, and, with all the other conspirators, committed to safe 
 custody. Cicero, after the senate adjourned, proceeded to the forum 
 and gave an account to the people of every thing which had passed, 
 both in regard to the steps that he had taken to detect the whole con- 
 spiracy, and to convict the conspirators; and also of what had taken 
 place in the senate, and of the votes and resolutions which that body 
 had just passed. 
 While the prisoners were before the senate he had copies of their exam- 
 inations and confessions taken down, and dispersed through Italy and 
 all the provinces. This happened on the third of December. 
 
 % I. You see this day, O Romans, the republic, and all your 
 lives, your goods, your fortunes, your wives and children, this 
 home of most illustrious empire, this most fortunate and beau- 
 tiful city, by the great love of the immortal gods for you, by 
 my labors and counsels and dangers, snatched from* fire and 
 sword, and almost from the very jaws of fate, and preserved 
 and restored to you. 
 
 And if those days on which we are preserved are not less 
 pleasant to us, or less illustrious, than those on which we are 
 born, because the joy of being saved is certain, the good for- 
 tune of being born uncertain, and because we are born with- 
 out feeling it, but we are preserved with great delight ; ay, 
 since we have, by our affection and by our good report, raised 
 to the immortal gods that Romulus who built this city, he, too, 
 who has preserved this city, built by him, and embellished as 
 you see it, ought to be held in honor by you and your poster- 
 ity ; for we have extinguished flames which were almost laid 
 under and placed around the temples and shrines, and houses 
 and walls of the whole city ; we have turned the edge of swords 
 drawn against the republic, and have turned aside their points 
 from your throats. And since all this has been displayed in 
 the senate, and made manifest, and detected by me, I will now 
 explain it briefly, that you, O citizens, that are as yet ignorant 
 of it, and are in suspense, may be able to see how great the 
 danger was, how evident and by what means it was detected 
 and arrested. First of all, since Catiline, a few days ago, burst 
 out of the city, when he had left behind the companions of his 
 wickedness, the active leaders of this infamous war, I have con- 
 tinually watched and taken care, O Romans, of the means by 
 which we might be safe amid such great and such carefully 
 concealed treachery. 
 
 II. Farther, when I drovu Catiline out of the city (for I do 
 not fear the unpopularity of this expression, when that is more 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 29 
 
 to be feared that I should be blamed because he has departed 
 alive), but then when I wished him to be removed, I thought 
 either that the rest of the band of conspirators would depart 
 with him, or that they who remained would be weak and pow- 
 erlejssjyithoiij him. 
 
 And I, as I saw that those whom I knew to be inflamed 
 with the greatest madness and wickedness were among us, 
 and had remained at Rome, spent all my nights and days in 
 taking care to know and see what they were doing, and what 
 they were contriving ; that, since what I said would, from the 
 incredible enormity of the wickedness, make less impression 
 on your ears, I might so detect the whole business that you 
 might with all your hearts provide for your safety, when jWL. 
 saw the crime with your own eyes. Therefore, when I found 
 "that the embassadors of the Allobroges had been tampered with 
 by Publius Lentulus, for the sake of exciting a Transalpine, 
 war and commotion in Gaul, and that they, on their return to 
 Gaul, had been sent with letters and messages to Catiline on 
 the same road, and that Yulturcius had been added to them 
 as a companion, and that he too had had letters given him for 
 Catiline, I thought that an opportunity was given me of con- 
 triving what was most difficult, and which I was always wish- 
 ing the immortal gods might grant, that the whole business 
 might be manifestly detected not by me alone, but by the sen- 
 atejtlacyand by you. 
 
 Therefore, yesterday I summoned Lucius Flaccus and C. 
 Pomtinus, the praetors, brave men and well affected to the 
 republic- I explained to them the whole matter, and showed 
 them what I wished to have done. But they, full of noble 
 and worthy sentiments toward the republic, without hesita- 
 tion, and without any delay, undertook the business, and 
 when it was evening, went secretly to the Mulvian bridge, 
 and there so distributed themselves in the nearest villas, that 
 the Tiber and the bridge was between them. And they took 
 to the same place, without any one having the least suspicion 
 of it, many brave men, and I had sent many picked young 
 men of the prefecture of Eeate, whose assistance I constantly 
 employ in the protection of the republic, armed with swords. 
 In the mean time, about the end of the third watch, when the 
 en: dors of the Allobrog* . t ■■ retinue and Yul- 
 
 turcius with them, 1 to come upon the Mulvian brio 
 
 an attack is made upon them : swords are drawn both, by 
 
30 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 them and by our people ; the matter was understood by the 
 praetors alone, but was unknown to the rest. 
 
 III. Then, by the intervention of Fomtinus and Flaccus, 
 the fight which had begun was put an end to ; all the letters 
 which were in the hands of the whole company are delivered 
 to the praetors with the seals unbroken ; the men themselves 
 are arrested and brought to me at daybreak. And I imme- 
 diately summoned that most worthless contriver of all this 
 wickedness, Gabinius, as yet suspecting nothing; after him, 
 P„ Statilius is sent for, and after him Cethegus; but Lentulus 
 was a long time in coming — I suppose, because, contrary to 
 his custom, he had been up a long time the night before, writ- 
 ing letters. 
 
 f-7 But when those most noble and excellent men of the whole 
 city, who, hearing of the matter, came in crowds to me in the 
 morning, thought it best for me to open the letters before I 
 related the matter to the senate, lest, if nothing were found in 
 them, so great a disturbance might seem to have been caused 
 to the state for nothing, I said I would never so act as shrink 
 from referring matter of public danger to the public council. 
 In truth if, O Romans, these things which had been reported 
 to me had not been found in them, yet I did not think I ought, 
 in such a crisis of the republic, to be afraid of the imputation 
 of over-diligence. \ I quickly summoned a full senate, as you 
 saw ; and meantime, without any delay, by the advice of 
 the Allobroges, I sent Caius Sulpicius the praetor, a brave 
 man, to bring whatever arms he could find in the house of 
 Cethegus, Avhence he did bring a great number of swords and 
 daggers. 
 
 IV. I introduced Yulturcius without the Gauls. By the 
 command of the senate, I pledged him the public faith for his 
 safety. I exhorted him fearlessly to tell all he knew. Then, 
 when he had scarcely recovered himself from his great alarm, 
 he said : that he had messages and letters for Catiline, from 
 Publius Lentulus, to avail himself of the guard of the slaves, 
 and to come toward the city with his army as quickly as pos- 
 sible ; and that was to be done with the intention that, when 
 they had set fire to the city on all sides, as it had been ar- 
 ranged and distributed, and had made a great massacre of the 
 citizens, he might be at hand to catch those who tied, and to 
 join himself to the leaders within the city, lint the Gauls 
 being introduced, said that an oath had been administered to 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 31 
 
 thorn, and letters given them by Publius Lentulus, Cethegus, 
 and Statilius, for their nation ; and that they had been en^ 
 joined by them, and by Lucius Cassius, to send cavalry into 
 Italy as early as possible ; that infantry should not be want- 
 ing ; and that Lentulus had assured him, from the Sibylline 
 ■oracles and the answers of soothsayers, that he was that third 
 Cornelius to whom the kingdom and sovereignty over this city 
 was fated to come ; that Cinna and Sylla had been before him ; 
 and that he had also said that was the year destined to the de- 
 struction of this city and empire, being the tenth yW after the 
 acquittal of the virgins, and the twentieth after the burning of 
 the Capitol. But they said there had been this dispute between 
 Cethegus and the rest — that Lentulus and others thought it 
 best that the massacre should take place and the city be burned 
 at the Saturnalia, but that Cethegus thought it too long to 
 
 wait. 
 
 V. And, not to detain you, O Romans, we ordered the let- 
 ters to be brought forward which were said to have been given 
 them by each of the men. First, I showed his s_e_al to Cethe- 
 gus ; he recognized it : we cut the thread ; we read the let- 
 ter. It was written with his own hand : that he would do 
 for the senate and people of the Allobroges what he had prom- 
 ised their embassadors ; and that he begged them also to do 
 what their embassadors had arranged. Then Cethegus, who 
 a little before had made answer about the swords and daggers 
 which had been found in his house, and had said that he had 
 always been fond of line arms, being stricken down and de- 
 jected at the reading of his letters, convicted by his own con-., 
 science, became suddenly silent, Statilius, being introduced, 
 owned his handwriting and his seal. His letters were read, 
 of nearly the same tenor : he confessed it. Then I showed 
 Lentulus his letters, and asked him whether he recognized 
 the seal? He nodded assent. % But it is, said I, a well-known 
 sea l — the likeness of your grandfather, a most illustrious man, 
 who greatly loved his country and his fellow-citizens ; and it, 
 even though silent, ought to have called you back from such 
 wickedness. 
 
 Letters are read of the same tenor to the senate and people 
 \ of the Allobroges. I offered him leave, if he wished i < my 
 
 ing of these matte ,rst he declined to speak ; but 
 
 hen the whole examination had been gone 
 tbrouj I concluded, he rose. He asked the Gauls what ha 
 
32. CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 had had to do with them'? why they had come to his house? 
 and he asked Vulturous too. And when they had answered 
 him briefly and steadily, under whose guidance they had come 
 to him, and how often ; and when they asked him whether lie 
 had said nothing to them about the Sibylline oracles ; then he 
 on a sudden, mad with wickedness, showed how great was the 
 power of conscience j/for though he might have denied it, he 
 suddenly, contrary fo every one's expectation, confessed it i so 
 ~TTot only did his genius and skill in oratory, lor which he was 
 always eminent, but even, through the power of his manifest 
 and detected wickedness, that impudence, in which he surpass- 
 ed all men, and audacity deserted him. 
 
 But Vulturous on a sudden ordered the letters to be pro- 
 duced and opened which he said had been given to him for 
 Catiline, by Lentulus. And though Lentulus was greatly 
 agitated at that, yet he acknowledged his seal and his hand- 
 writing; but the letter was anonymous, and ran thus: ""Who 
 I am you will know from him whom I have sent to you : 
 take care to behave like a man, and consider to what place 
 you have proceeded, and provide for what is now necessary 
 for you : take care to associate to yourself the assistance of 
 every one, even of the powerless." Then Gabinius being 
 introduced, when at first he had begun to answer impudently, 
 at last denied nothing of those things which the Gauls alleged 
 against him. And to me, indeed, O Romans, though the 
 letters, the seals, the handwriting, and the confession of each 
 individual seemed most 'certain indications and proofs of 
 wickedness, yet their color, their eyes, their countenance, 
 then* silence, appeared more certain still ; for they stood so 
 stupefied, they kept their eyes so fixed on the ground, at times 
 looking stealthily at one another, that they appeared now not 
 so much to be informed against by others as to be informing 
 against themselves. 
 
 VI. Having produced and divulged these proofs, O Romans, 
 I consulted the senate what ought to be done for the interests 
 of the republic. Vigorous and fearless opinions were deliver- 
 ed by the chief men, which the senate adopted without any 
 variety; and since the decree of the senate is not yet written 
 out, I will relate to you from memory, O citizens, what the 
 senate has decreed. First of all. a vote of thanks to me is 
 passed in the most honorable words, because the republic hi J 
 been delivered from the greatest dangers by my valor, and wi» 
 
III. AGAINST L CATILINE. ' 33 
 
 doui, and prudence. Then Lucius Flaccus and Caius Pomti- 
 nus, the praetors, are d eserve dly and rightly praised, because I 
 had availed myself of their brave and loyal assistance. And 
 also, praise is given to that brave man, my colleague, because 
 he had removed from his counsels, and from the counsels of 
 the republic, those who had been accomplices in this conspir- 
 acy. And they voted that Publius Lentulus, when he had 
 abdicated the praetorship, should be given into custody ; and 
 also, that Caius Cethegus, Lucius Statilius, Publius Gabinius, 
 who were all present, should be given into custody : and the 
 same decree was passed against Lucius Cassius, who had beg- 
 ged for himself the office of burning the city ; against Marcus 
 Caparius, to whom it had been proved that Apulia had been 
 allotted for the purpose of exciting disaffection among the 
 shephei'ds ; against Publius Furius, who belongs to the colo- 
 nies which Lucius Sylla led to Faesulse ; against Quintus Man- 
 lius Chilo, who. was always associated with this man Furius 
 in his tampering with the Allobroges ;. against Publius Um- 
 brenus, a freedman, by whom it was proved that the Gauls 
 were originally brought to Gabinius. 1/ 
 
 And the senate, O citizens, acted with such lenity, that, 
 out of so great a conspiracy, and such a number and multi- 
 tude of domestic enemies, it thought that since the republic 
 was saved, the minds of the rest might be restored to a 
 healthy state by the punishment of nine most abandoned 
 men. "And also a supplication 1 was decreed in my name 
 (which is the first time since the building of the city that 
 such an honor has ever been paid to a man in a civil capaci- 
 ty), to the immortal gods, for their singular kindness. And 
 it was decreed in these words, " because I had delivered the 
 city from conflagration, the citizens from massacre, and Italy 
 from war." And if this supplication be compared with oth- 
 ers, O citizens, there is this difference between them — that all 
 others have been appointed because of the successes of the 
 1 A supplication was a solemn thanksgiving to the gods, decreed by 
 the senate, when all the temples were opened and the statues of the gods 
 placed in public upon couches (pulvinaria), to which the people offered 
 up their thanksgivings and prayers. It was usually decreed on the in- 
 telligence arriving of any great victory, and the number of days which it 
 was to last was proportioned to the importance of the victory. It was 
 generally regarded as a prelude to a triumph. Of course, from what has 
 been said, it must have been usually confined to generals ; who laid a 
 the toga on leaving the city to^aTssume the command of the army, and as 
 sumed the paludame7itum y <ST military robe- 
 
 B2 
 / 
 
34 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 republic ; this one alone for its preservation. And that which 
 was the first thing to be done, has been done and executed ; 
 for Publius Lentulus, though, being convicted by proofs and 
 by his own confession, by the judgment of the senate he had 
 ^lost not only the rights of a pradtor, but also those of a citizen, 
 ; still resigned his office; so that, though Caius Marcius, that 
 most illustrious of men, had no scruples about putting to death 
 Caius Glaucius the praetor, against whom nothing had been 
 decreed by name, still we are relieved from that scruple in the 
 case of Publius Lentulus, who is now a private individual. 
 
 VII. Now, since, O citizens, you have the nefarious leaders 
 of this most wicked and dangerous war taken prisoners and in 
 your grasp, you ought to think that all the resources of Cat- 
 iline — all his hopes and all his power, now that these dangers 
 of the city are warded off, have fallen to pieces. ' And*, indeed, 
 when I drove him from the city, I foresaw in my mind, O cit- 
 izens, that if Catiline were removed, I had no cause to fear 
 either the drowsiness of Publius Lentulus, or the fat of Lucius 
 Cassius, or the mad rashness of Cassius Cethegus. He alone 
 was to be feared of all these men, and that only as long as he 
 was within the walls of the city. He knew every thing, he 
 had access to every body. He had the skill and the audacity 
 to address, to tempt, and' to tamper with every one. He had 
 acuteness suited to crime ; and neither tongue nor hand ever 
 failed to support that acuteness. Already he had men he 
 could rely on, chosen and distributed for the execution of all 
 other business ; and when he had ordered any thing to be 
 done, he did not think it was done on that account. There 
 was nothing to which he did not personally attend and see to 
 — for which he did not watch and toil. ' He was able to en- 
 dure cold, thirst, and hunger. 
 
 Unless I had driven this man, so active, so ready, so au- 
 dacious, so crafty, so vigilant in wickedness, so industrious in 
 criminal exploits, from his plots within the city to the open 
 warfare of the camp (I will express my honest opinion, O 
 citizens), I should not easily have removed from your necks 
 so vast a weight of evil. He would not have determined 
 on the Saturnalia 1 to massacre you — he would not have an- 
 
 1 The Saturnalia was a feast of Saturn at which extraordinary license 
 and indulgence was allowed to all the slaves ; it took place at the end 
 of December, while this speech of Cicero was delivered early in Novem- 
 ber. 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 35 
 
 nounced the destruction of the republic, and even the day of 
 its doom so long beforehand — he would never have allowed hig 
 seal and his letters, the undeniable witnesses of his guilt, to be 
 taken, which now, since he is absent, has been so done that no 
 larceny in a private house has ever been so thoroughly and 
 clearly detected as this vast conspiracy against the republic. 
 But if Catiline had remained in the city to this day, although, 
 as long as he was so, I met all his designs and withstood them ; 
 yet, to say the least, we should have had to fight with him, and 
 should never, while he remained as an enemy in the city, have 
 delivered the republic from such dangers, with such ease, such 
 tranquillity, and such silence. 
 
 VILT. Although all these things, O Romans, have been so 
 managed by me, that they appear to have been done and pro- 
 vided for by the order and design of the immortal gods ; and 
 as we may conjecture this because the direction of such weighty 
 affairs scarcely appears capable of having been carried out by 
 human wisdom ; so, too, they have at this time so brought us 
 present aid and assistance, that we could almost behold them 
 without eyes. For to say nothing of those things, namely, the 
 fire-brands seen in the west in the night-time, and the heat 
 of the atmosphere — to pass over- the falling of thunder-bolts 
 and the earthquakes — to say nothing of all the other portents 
 which have taken place in such numbers during my consulship, 
 that the immortal gods themselves have been seeming to pre- 
 dict what is now taking place ; yet, at all events, this which I 
 am about to mention, O Romans, must be neither passed over 
 nor omitted. 
 
 For you recollect, I suppose, when Cotta and Torquatus 
 were consuls, that many towers in the Capitol were struck 
 with lightning, when both the images of the immortal gods 
 were moved, and the statues of many ancient men were thrown 
 down, and the brazen tablets on which the laws were written 
 were melted. Even Romulus, who built this city, .vas struck, 
 which, you recollect, stood in the Capitol, a gilt statue, little 
 and sucking, and clinging to the teats of the wolf. ~Xnd when 
 at this time the soothsayers were assembled out of all Etruria, 
 they said that slaughter, and conflagration, and the overthrow 
 of the laws, and civil and domestic war, and the fall of the 
 whole city and empire was at hand, unless the immortal gods, 
 being appeased in every possible manner, by their own power 
 turned aside, as I may say the very fates themselves. 
 
36 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Therefore, according to their answers, games were cele- 
 brated for ten days, nor was any tiling omitted which might 
 tend to the appeasing of the gods. And they enjoined also 
 that we should make a greater statue of Jupiter, and place it 
 in a lofty situation, and (contrary to what had been done 
 befoiv) turn it toward the east. And they said that they 
 hoped that if that statue which you now behold looked upon 
 the rising of the sun, and the forum, and the senate-house, 
 then those designs which were secretly formed against the 
 safety of the city and empire would be brought to light, so 
 as to be able to be thoroughly seen by the senate and by 
 the Roman people. And the consuls ordered it to be so 
 placed ; but so great was the delay in the work, that it was 
 never set up by the former consuls, nor by us before this 
 day. 
 
 nIX. Here who, O Romans, can there be so obstinate against 
 he truth, so headstrong, so void of sense, as to deny that all 
 these things which we see, and especially this city, is govern- 
 ed by the divine authority and power of the immortal gods? 
 Forsooth, when this answer had been given — that massacre, 
 and conflagration, and ruin was prepared for the republic ; 
 and that, too, by profligate citizens, which, from the enormity 
 of the wickedness, appeared incredible to some people, you 
 found that it had not only been planned by wicked citizens, 
 but had even been undertaken and commenced. And is not 
 this fact so present that it appears to have taken place by the 
 express will of the good and mighty Jupiter, that, when this 
 day, early in the morning, both the conspirators and their ac- 
 cusers were being led by my command through the forum to 
 the Temple of Concord, at that very time the statue was being 
 erected? And when it was set up, and turned toward you 
 and toward the senate, the senate and you yourselves saw 
 every thing which had been planned against the universal 
 safety brought to light and made manifest. 
 
 And on this account they deserve even greater hatred and 
 '' greater punishment, for having attempted to apply their fatal 
 and wicked fire, not only to your houses and homes, but even 
 to the shrines and temples of the Gods. And if 1 were to 
 say that it w T as I who resisted them, I should take too much 
 to myself, and ought not to be borne. He — he, Jupiter, re- 
 sisted them. Jle determined that the Capitol should be sale, 
 he saved these temples, he saved this city, ho saved all of von* 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 37 
 
 It is under the guidance of the immortal gods, O Romans, 
 that I have cherished the intention and desires which I have, 
 and have arrived at such undeniable proofsTj Surely, that 
 tampering with the Allobroges would neverTiave taken place, ... 
 so important a matter would never have been so madly in- 
 trusted, by Lentulus and the rest of our internal enemies, to 
 strangers and foreigners, such letters would never have been 
 written, unless all prudence had been taken by the immortal 
 gods from such terrible audacity. What shall I say % That 
 Gauls, men from a state scarcely at peace with us, the only 
 nation existing which seems both to be able to make war on 
 the Roman people, and not to be unwilling to do so — that they 
 should disregard the hope of empire and of the greatest suc- 
 cess voluntarily offered to them by patricians, and should 
 prefer your safety to their own power — do you not think 
 that that was caused by divine interposition ? especially when 
 they could have destroyed us, not by fighting, but by keeping 
 silence. 
 
 X. Wherefore, O citizens, since a supplication, has been de- 
 creed at all the altars, celebrate those days with your wives and 
 children ; for many just and deserved honors have been often 
 paid to the immortal gods, but juster ones never. For you 
 have been snatched from a most cruel and miserable destruc- 
 tion, and you have been^natched from it without slaughter, 
 without bloodshed, without an army, without a battle. You 
 have conquered in the garb of peace, with me in the garb of 
 peace for yonr only general and commander, 
 yu Q Remegifcr, O citizens, all civil dissensions, and not only 
 
 £ those which you ^ have heard of, but those also which you 
 yourselves remember and have seen. TLuciifs* Sylla crushed 
 Publius Sulpicius ; l he drove from the city Caius Marius the 
 guardian of this city ; and of many other brave men some he 
 drove from the city, and some he murdered. Cnaeus Octavius 
 the consul drove his colleague by force of arms out of the 
 city ; all this place was crowded with heaps of carcasses and 
 
 1 Sulpicius procured a law to be passed for taking the command against 
 Mithridates from Sylla and giving it to Marius ; Sylla came to Rome with 
 his army and slew Sulpicius, when Marius fled to Africa. Sylla made 
 
 U " : and Cinna Is, who quarr-!- ] after he was gone and Cinna 
 
 went over to the party of Marius, who returned to Rok and 
 
 Catulus were consuls the year after the death of Sylla, and they quarrel- 
 ed because Lepidus wished to rescind all the acts of Sylla. Leyidus was 
 defeated, fled to Sardinia, and died there . 
 
58 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 flowed with the blood of citizens ; afterward Cinna and Mariua 
 got the upper hand ; and then most illustrious men were put 
 to death, and the lights of the state were extinguished. Aft- 
 erward Sylla avenged the cruelty of this victory ; it is need- 
 less to say with what a diminution of the citizens, and with 
 what disasters to the republic. Marcus Lepidus disagreed 
 with that most eminent and brave man Quintus Catulus. His 
 death did not cause as much grief to the republic as that of 
 the others. 
 
 And these dissensions, O Romans, were such as concerned 
 not the destruction of the republic, but only a change in the 
 constitution. They did not wish that there should be no re- 
 public, but that they themselves should be the chief men in 
 that which existed ; nor did they desire that the city should 
 be burned, but that they themselves should flourish in it. And 
 yet all those dissensions, none of which aimed at the destruc- 
 tion of the republic, were such that they were to be termin- 
 ated not by a reconciliation and concord, but only by inter- 
 necine war among the citizens. But in this war alone, the 
 greatest and most cruel in the memory of man — a war such as 
 even the countries of the barbarians have never waged with 
 their own tribes — a war in which this law was laid down by 
 Lentulus, and Catiline, and Cassius, and Cethegus, that every 
 one, who could live in safety as long^as the city remained in 
 safety, should be considered as an enemy — in this war I have 
 so managed matters, O Romans, that you should all be pre- 
 served in safety ; and though your enemies had thought thai 
 only such a number of the citizens would be left ^fcliad held 
 out against an interminable massacre, and only so much of the 
 city as the flames could not devour, I have preserved both the 
 city and the citizens unhurt and undiminished. 
 
 XI. And for these exploits, important as they are, O 
 Romans, I ask from you no reward of virtue, no badge of 
 honor, no monument of my glory, beyond the everlasting 
 recollection of this day. In your minds I wish all my 
 triumphs, all my decorations of honor, the monuments of 
 my glory, the badges of my renown, to be stored and laid up. 
 Nothing voiceless can delight me, nothing silent — nothing, in 
 short, such as even those who are less worthy can obtain. In 
 your memory, O Romans, my name shall be cherished, in 
 your discourses it shall grow, in the monuments of your 
 letters it shall grow old and strengthen ; and I feel assured 
 
III. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 39 
 
 that the same day which I hope will be for everlasting, will be 
 remembered forever, so as to tend both to the safety of the 
 city and the recollection of my consulship ; and that it will be 
 remembered that there existed in this city at the same time 
 two citizens, one of whom limited the boundaries of your em- 
 pire only by the regions of heaven, not by those of the earth, 
 while the other preserved the abode and home of that same 
 empire- ^ 
 
 XII. But since the fortune and condition of those exploits 
 which I have performed is not the same with that of those 
 men who have directed foreign wars — because I must live 
 among those whom I have defeated and subdued, they have 
 left their enemies either slain or crushed — it is your business, 
 
 Romans, to take care, if their good deeds are a benefit to 
 others, that mine shall never be an injury to me. For that 
 the wicked and profligate designs of audacious men shall not 
 be able to injure you, I have taken care ; it is your business to 
 take care that they do not injure me. Although, O Romans, 
 no injury can be done to me by them — for there is a great 
 protection in the affection of all good men, which is procured 
 for me forever ; there is great dignity in the republic, which 
 will always silently defend me ; there is great power in con- 
 science, and those who neglect it, when they desire to attack 
 me will destroy themselves. 
 
 There is moreover that disposition in me, O Romans, that 
 
 1 not only will yield to the audacity of no one, but that I 
 always voluntarily attack the worthless. And if all the vio- 
 lence of domestic enemies being warded off from you turne 
 itself upon me alone, you will have to take care, O Romans, 
 in what condition you wish those men to be for the future, 
 who for your safety have exposed themselves to unpopularity 
 and to all sorts of dangers. As for me, myself, what is there 
 which now can be gained by me for the enjoyment of life, es- 
 pecially when neither in credit among you, nor in the glory of 
 virtue, do I see any higher point to which 1 can be desirous to 
 climb? 
 
 That indeed I will take care of, O Romans, as a private man 
 to uphold and embellish the exploits which I have performed 
 in my consulship : so that, if there has been any unpopu- 
 larity incurred in preserving the republic, it may injure those 
 who envy me, and may tend to my glory. Lastly, I will so 
 behave myself in the republic as always to remember what I 
 
40 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have done, and to take care that they shall appear to have 
 been done through virtue, and not by chance. Do you, O Ro- 
 mans, since it is now night, worship that Jupiter, the guardian 
 of this city and of yourselves, and depart to your homes ; and 
 defend those homes, though the danger is now removed, with 
 guard and watch as you did last night. That you shall not 
 have to do so long, and that you shall enjoy perpetual tran- 
 quillity, shall, O Romans, be my care. 
 
 THE FOURTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST LUCIUS 
 
 CATILINE. 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE SENATE. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The night after the events mentioned in the argument to the preceding 
 oration, Cicero's wife Terentia, with the vestal virgins, was performing 
 at home the mystic rites of the Bona Dea, while Cicero was delibera- 
 ting with his friends on the best mode of punishing the conspirators. 
 Terentia interrupted their deliberations by coming in to inform them 
 of a prodigy which had just happened ; that after the sacrifice in which 
 she had been engaged was over, the fire revived spontaneously ; on 
 which the vestal virgins had sent her to him, to inform him of it, and 
 to bid him pursue what he was then thinking of and intending for the 
 good of his country, since the goddess had given this sign that she was 
 watching over his safety and glory. 
 The next day the senate ordered public rewards to the embassadors and 
 to Vulturcius ; and showed signs of intending to proceed with extreme 
 rigor against the conspirators ; when, on a sudden, rumors arose of 
 plots having been formed by the slaves of Lentulus and Cethegus for 
 their masters' rescue ; which obliged Cicero to double all the guards, 
 and determined him to prevent any repetition of such attempts by 
 bringing before the senate without delay the question of the punish- 
 ment of the prisoners. On which account he summoned the senate to 
 meet the next morning. 
 There were many dilficulties in the matter. Capital punishments were 
 unusual and very unpopular at Rome. And there was an old law of 
 Porcius Lecca, a tribune of the people, which granted to all criminals 
 who were capitally condemned an appeal to the people ; and also a 
 law had been passed, since his time, by Caius Gracchus, to proln nt 
 the taking away the life of any citizen without a formal hearing before 
 the people. And these considerations had so much weight with some 
 of the senators, that they absented themselves from the senate during 
 tjpds debate, in order to have no «hare in sentc* sing prisoners of sucn 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 41 
 
 high rank to death. The debate was opened by Silanus, the consul 
 elect, who declared his opinion, that those in custody, and those also 
 who should be taken subsequently, should all be put to death. Every 
 one who followed him agreed with him, till Julius Caesar, the praetor 
 elect (who has been often suspected of having been, at least to some 
 extent, privy to the conspiracy), rose, and in an elaborate speech pro- 
 posed that they should not be put to death, but that their estates 
 should be confiscated, and they themselves kept in perpetual confine- 
 ment. Cato opposed him with great earnestness. But some of Cice- 
 ro's friends appeared inclined to Caesar's motion, thinking it a safer 
 measure for Cicero himself; but when Cicero perceived this, he rose 
 himself, and discussed the opinions both of Silanus and Caesar in the 
 following speech, which decided the senate to vote for their condemna- 
 tion. And as soon as the vote had passed, Cicero went immediately 
 from the senate-house, took Lentulus from the custody of his kinsman 
 Lentulus Spinther, and delivered him to the executioner. The other 
 conspirators, Cethegus, Statilius, Gabinius, &c, were in like manner 
 conducted to execution by the praetors ; and Cicero was conducted 
 home to his house in triumph by the whole body of the senate and by 
 the knights, the whole multitude following him, and saluting him as 
 their deliverer. 
 
 I. I see, O conscript fathers, that the looks and eyes of you 
 all are turned toward me ; I see that you are anxious not only 
 for your own danger and that of the republic, but even, if that 
 be removed, for mine. Your good-will is delightful to one 
 amid evils, and pleasing amid grief; but I entreat you, in the 
 name of the immortal gods, lay it aside now, and, forgetting 
 my safety, think of yourselves and of your children. If, in- 
 deed, this condition of the consulship has been allotted to me, 
 that I should bear all bitterness, all pains and tortures, I will 
 bear them not only bravely but even cheerfully, provided that 
 by my toils dignity and safety are procured for you and for the 
 Roman people. 
 
 I am that consul, O conscript fathers, to wliom neither the 
 forum in which all justice is contained, nor the Campus 
 Martius, 1 consecrated to the consular assemblies, nor the 
 senate-house, the chief assistance of all nations, nor my own 
 home, the common refuge of all men, nor my bed devoted 
 to rest, in short, not even this seat of honor, this curule 
 chair, has ever been free from the danger of death, or from 
 plots and treachery. I have been silent, about many things, 
 ITiave borne much, I have conceded much, I have remedied 
 
 1 The Campus Martius was consecrated or restored to Mars after the 
 expulsion of the Tarquins ; the comitia centuriata at which all magis- 
 trates were created v ri -e held there 
 
42 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 many things with some pain to myself, amid the alarm of you 
 all. Now if the immortal gods have determined that there 
 shall be this end to my consulship, that I should snatch you, 
 O conscript fathers, and the Koman people from miserable 
 slaughter, your wives and children and the vestal virgins from 
 most bitter distress, the temples and shrines of the gods, and 
 this most lovely country of all of us, from impious flames, all 
 Italy from war and devastation ; then, whatever fortune is laid 
 up for me by myself, it shall be borne. If, indeed, Publius 
 Lentulus, being led on by soothsayers, believed that his name 
 was connected by destiny with the destruction of the republic, 
 why should not I rejoice that my consulship has taken place 
 almost by the express appointment of fate for the preservation 
 of the republic *? 
 
 II. Wherefore, O conscript fathers, consult the welfare of 
 yourselves, provide for that of the republic ; preserve your- 
 selves, your wives, your children, and your fortunes; defend 
 the name and safety of the Roman people ; cease to spare me, 
 and to think of me. For, in the first place, I ought to hope 
 that all the gods who preside over this city will show me grat- 
 itude in proportion as I deserve it ; and in the second place, if 
 any thing does happen to me, I shall fall with a contented and 
 prepared mind ; and, indeed, death can not be disgraceful to 
 a brave man, nor premature to one of consular rank, nor mis- 
 erable to a wise man. Not that I am a man of so iron a dis- 
 position as not to be moved by the grief of a most dear and 
 affectionate brother now present, and by the tears of all these 
 men by whom you now see me surrounded. Nor does my 
 fainting wife, my daughter prostrate with fear, and my little 
 son whom the republic seems to me to embrace as a sort of 
 hostage for my consulship, the son-in-law who, awaiting the 
 end of that day, is now standing in my sight, fail often to re- 
 call my mind to my home. I am moved by all these circum- 
 stances/ but in such a direction as to wish that they all may 
 be safe together with you, even if some violence overwhelms 
 me, rather than that both they and we should perish together 
 witli the republic. ^^ 
 
 AVherefore, O conscript fathers, attend to the safety of the 
 republic ; look round upon all the storms which are impend- 
 ing, unless you guard against them. It is not Tiberius Grac- 
 chus, who wished to be made a second time a tribune of the 
 people ; it is not Caius Gracchus, who endeavored to excite 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 43 
 
 the partisans of the agrarian law ; it is not Lucius Saturninus, 
 who slew Memmius, who is now in some danger, who is now 
 brought before the tribunal of your severity. They are now 
 in your hands who withstood all Rome, with the object of 
 bringing conflagration on the whole city, massacre on all of 
 you, and of receiving Catiline ; their letters are in your pos- 
 session, their seals, their handwriting, and the confession of 
 each individual of them ; the Allobroges are tampered with, 
 the slaves are excited, Catiline is sent for ; the design is actu- 
 ally begun to be put in execution, that all should be put to 
 death, so that no one should be left even to mourn the name 
 of the republic, and to lament over the downfall of so mighty 
 a dominion. 
 
 III. All these things the witnesses have informed you of, 
 the prisoners have confessed, you by many judgments have 
 already decided ; first, because you have thanked me in un- 
 precedented language, and have passed a vote that the con- 
 spiracy of abandoned men has been laid open by my virtue 
 and diligence ; secondly, because you have compelled Publius 
 Lentulus to abdicate the praetorship ; again, because you have 
 voted that he and the others about whom you have decided 
 should be given into custody ; and above ail, because you 
 have decreed a supplication in my name, an honor which has 
 never been paid to any one before acting in a civil capacity ; 
 last of all, because yesterday you gave most ample rewards to 
 the embassadors of the Allobroges and to Titus Vulturcius ; 
 all which acts are such that they, who have been given into 
 custody by name, without any doubt seem already condemned 
 by you. ^ 
 
 But I have determined to refer the business to you a£ -a. 
 fresh matter, O conscript fathers, both as to the fact, what 
 you think of it, and as to the punishment, what you vote. 
 I will state what it behooves the consul to state. I have seen 
 for a long time great madness existing in the republic, and 
 new designs being formed, and evil passions being stirred up, 
 but I never thought that so great, so destructive a conspiracy 
 as this was being meditated by citizens. Now to whatever 
 point your minds ^nrl opinions incline, you must decide 
 s> ht. You i crime nasbeen made 
 
 ' n to you; if you tlii at but few are implicated 
 
 it you are greatly mistaken ; this evil has spread wider than 
 you think; it has spread not only throughout Italy, but it 
 
44 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 has even crossed the Alps, and creeping stealthily on, it has 
 already occupied many of the provinces ; it can by no means 
 be crushed by tolerating it, and by temporizing with it ; how- 
 ever you determine on chastising it, you must act with prompt- 
 itude. 
 
 IV. I see that as yet there are two opinions. One that of 
 Decius Silanus, who thinks that those who have endeavored 
 to destroy all these things should be punished with death ; 
 the other, that of Caius Csesar, who objects to the punish- 
 ment of death, but adopts the most extreme severity of all 
 other punishment. Each acts in a manner suitable to his 
 own dignity and to the magnitude of the business with the 
 greatest severity. The one thinks that it is not right that 
 those, who have attempted to deprive all of us and the whole 
 Roman people of life, to destroy the empire, to extinguish the 
 name of the Roman people, should enjoy life and the breath 
 of heaven common to us all, for one moment ; and he re- 
 members that this sort of punishment has often been employed 
 against worthless citizens in this republic. The other feels 
 that death was not appointed by the immortal gods for the 
 sake of punishment, but that it is either a necessity of nature, 
 or a rest from toils and miseries; therefore wise men have 
 never met it unwillingly, brave men have often encountered 
 it even voluntarily. But imprisonment, and that too per- 
 petual, was certainly invented for the extraordinary punish- 
 ment of nefarious wickedness ; therefore he proposes that 
 they should be distributed among the municipal towns. This 
 proposition seems to have in it injustice if you command it, 
 difficulty if you request it ; however, let it be so decreed if 
 you like. 
 
 For I will undertake, and, as I hope, I shall find one who 
 will not think it suitable to his dignity to refuse what you de- 
 cide on for the sake of the universal safety. He imposes be- 
 sides a severe punishment on the burgesses of the municipal 
 town if any of the prisoners escape ; he surrounds them with 
 the most terrible guard, and with every thing worthy of the 
 wickedness of abandoned men. And he proposes to establish 
 a decree that no one shall be able to alleviate the punishment 
 of those whom he is condemning by a vote of either the senate 
 or the people. He takes away even hope, which alone can 
 comfort men in their miseries; besides this, he votes that their 
 goods should be coniiscated ; he leaves liie alone to these in- 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 45 
 
 famous men, and if he had taken that away, he would have 
 relieved them by one pang of many tortures of mind and body, 
 and of all the punishment of their crimes. Therefore, that 
 there might be some dread in life to the wicked, men of old 
 have believed that there were some punishments of that sort 
 appointed for the wicked in the shades below ; because in truth 
 they perceived that if this were taken away death itself would 
 not be terrible. 
 
 V. Now, O conscript fathers, I see what is my interest ; if 
 you follow the opinion of Caius Caesar (since he has adopted 
 this path in the republic which is accounted the popular one), 
 perhaps since he is the author and promoter of this opinion, 
 the popular violence will be less to be dreaded by me ; if you 
 adojit the other opinion, I Know not whether I am not likely 
 to have more trouble ; but still let the advantage of the 
 republic outweigh the consideration of my danger. For we 
 have from Caius Csesar, as his own dignity and as the illus- 
 trious character of his ancestors demanded, a vote as a hostage 
 of his lasting good-will to the republic ; it has been clearly 
 seen how great is the difference between the lenity of dema- 
 gogues, and a disposition really attached to the interests of 
 the people. I see that of those men who wish to be con- 
 sidered attached to the people one man is absent, that they 
 may not seem forsooth to give" a vote about the lives of 
 Roman citizens. He only three days ago gave Roman citizens 
 into custody, and decreed me a supplication, and voted most 
 magnificent rewards to the witnesses only yesterday. It is 
 not now doubtful to any one what he, who voted for the im- 
 prisonment of the criminals, congratulation to him who had 
 detected them, and rewards to those who had proved the 
 crime, thinks of the whole matter, and of the cause. But 
 Caius Ceesar considers that the Sempronian 1 law was passed 
 about Roman citizens, but that he who is an enemy of the 
 republic can by no means be a citizen ; and moreover that 
 the very proposer of the Sempronian law suffered punishment 
 by the command of the people. He also denies that Lentulus, 
 a briber and a spendthrift, after he has formed such cruel and 
 
 1 The Sempronian law was proposed by Caius Gracchus, b.c. 123, and 
 enacted that the people only should decide respecting the life or civil 
 condition of a citizen. It is alluded to also in the oration Pro Rabir. 
 c. 4, where Cicero says, " Caius Gracchus passed a law that no decision 
 should be come to about the life of a Roman citizen without your com- 
 mand," speaking to the Quirites. 
 
46 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 bitter plans about the destruction of the Eoman people, and 
 the ruin of this city, can be called a friend of the people. 
 Therefore this most gentle and merciful man does not hesitate 
 to commit P ublius Lentulus to eternal darkness and imprison- 
 ment, and establishes a law to all posterity that no one shall 
 be able to boast of alleviating his punishment, or hereafter .to 
 appear a friend of the people to the destruction of the Roman 
 people. He adds also the confiscation of their goods, so that 
 want also and beggary may bemadded to all the torments of 
 mind and body. 
 
 VI. Wherefore, if you decide on this you give me a com- 
 panion in my address, dear and acceptable to the Romj'n peo- 
 ple ; or if you prefer to adopt the opinion of Silanus, you will 
 easily defend me and yourselves from the reproach of cruelty, 
 and I will prevail that it shall be much lighter. Although, 
 O conscript fathers, what cruelty can there be in chastising 
 the enormity of such excessive wickedness? For I decide 
 from my own feeling. For so may I be allowed to enjoy the 
 republic in safety in your company, as I am not moved to be 
 somewhat vehement in this cause by any severity of disposi- 
 tion (for who is more merciful than I am ?), but rather by a 
 singular humanity and mercifulness. For I seem to myself to 
 see this city, the light of the world, and the citadel of all na- 
 tions, falling on a sudden by one conflagration. I see in my 
 mind's eye miserable and unburied heaps of cities in my buried 
 country ; the sight of Cethegus and his madness raging amid 
 your slaughter is ever present to my sight. But when I have 
 set before myself Lentulus reigning, as he himself confesses 
 that he had hoped was his destiny, and this Gabinius arr. yed 
 in the purple, and Catiline arrive'd with his army, then I shud- 
 der at the lamentation of matrons, and the flight of virgins and 
 of boys, and the insults of the vestal virgins ; and because these 
 things appear to me exceedingly miserable and pitiable, there- 
 fore I show myself severe and rigorous to those who have 
 wished to bring about this state of things. I ask, forsooth, 
 if any father of a family, supposing his children had been slain 
 by a slave, his wife murdered, his house burned, were not to 
 inflict on his slaves the severest possible punishment, would 
 he appear clement and merciful, or most inhuman and cruel ? 
 To me he would seem unnatural and hard-hearted who did 
 not soothe his own pain and anguish by the pain and tor- 
 ture of the criminal. And so we, in the case of these men 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 4? 
 
 who desired to murder us, and our wives, and our children — 
 who endeavored to destroy the houses of every individual 
 among us, and also the republic, the home of all — who de- 
 signed to place the nation of the Allobroges on the relics of 
 this city, and on the ashes of the empire destroyed by fire; 
 if we are very rigorous, we shall be considered merciful ; if 
 we choose to b e lax, we must endure the character of the 
 greatest cruelty, to the damage of our country and our fellow- 
 citizens. 
 
 Unless, indeed, Lucius 1 Caesar, a thoroughly brave man, and 
 of the best disposition toward the republic, seemed to any one 
 to be^too cruel three days ago, when he said that the husband 
 of his own sister, a most excellent woman (in his presence 
 and in his hearing), ought to be deprived of life — when he 
 said that his grandfather had been put to death by command 
 of the consul, and his youthful son, sent as an embassador by 
 his father, had been put to death in prison. And what deed 
 had they done like these men % had they formed any plan for 
 destroying the republic? At that time great corruption was 
 rife in the republic, and there was the greatest strife between 
 parties. And, at that time, the grandfather of this Lentulus, 
 a most illustrious man, put on his armor and pursued Grac- 
 chus ; he even received a severe wound that there might be no 
 diminution of the great dignity of the republic. But this man, 
 his grandson, invited the Gauls to overthrow the foundations 
 of the republic ; he stirred up the slaves, he summoned Cati- 
 line, he distributed us to Cethegus to be massacred, and the 
 rest of the citizens to Gabinius to be assassinated, the city he 
 aHotted to Cassius to burn, and the plundering and devasta- 
 ting of all Italy he assigned to Catiline. You fear, I think, lest 
 in the case of such unheard-of and abominable wickedness you 
 should seem to decide any thing with too great severity ; when 
 we ought much more to fear lest by being remiss in punishing 
 we should appear cruel to our country, rather than appear by 
 the severity of our irritation too rigorous to its most bitter 
 enemies. 
 
 VH. But, O conscript fathers, I can not conceal what I 
 
 1 The brother-in-law of Lucius Caesar was Marcus Fulvius, whose 
 death, at the command of Opimius the consul, is referred to in the 2d 
 cap. 1st Cat. He sent his son to the consul to treat for his surrender, 
 whom Opimius sent back the first time, and forbade to return to himj 
 when he did return, he put him to death. 
 
48 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 hear ; for sayings are bruited about, which come to my ears, 
 of those men who seem to fear that I may not have force 
 enough to put in execution the things which you determine 
 on this day. Every thing is provided for, and prepared, and 
 arranged, O conscript fathers, both by my exceeding care and 
 diligence, and also by the still greater zeal of the Roman peo- 
 ple for the retaining of their supreme dominion, and for the 
 preserving of the fortunes of all. All men of all ranks are. 
 present, and of all ages ; the forum is full, the temples around 
 the forum are full, all the approaches to this place and to this 
 temple are full. For this is the only cause that has ever been 
 known since the first foundation of the city, in which all men 
 were of one and the same opinion — except those, who, as they 
 saw they must be ruined, preferred to perish in company with 
 all the world rather than by themselves. 
 
 These men I except, and I willingly set them apart from 
 the rest; for I do not think -that they should be classed in the 
 number of worthless citizens, but in that of the most bitter 
 enemies. But, as for the rest ; O ye immortal gods ! in what 
 crowds, with what zeal, with what virtue do they agree in de- 
 fense of the common dignity and safety. Why should I here 
 speak of the Roman knights'? who yield to you the supremacy 
 in rank and wisdom, in order to vie with you in love for the 
 republic — whom this day and this cause now reunite with you 
 in alliance and unanimity with your body, reconciled after a 
 disagreement of many years. And if we can preserve forever 
 in the republic this union now established in my consulship, I 
 pledge myself to you that no civil and domestic calamity can 
 hereafter reach any part of the republic. I see that the trib- 
 unes of the treasury — excellent men — have united with similar 
 zeal in defense of the republic, and all the notaries. 1 For as 
 this day had by chance brought them in crowds to the treasury, 
 I see that they were diverted from an anxiety for the money 
 due to them, from an expectation of their capital, to a regard 
 for the common safety. The entire multitude of honest men, 
 even the poorest, is present ; for who is there to whom these 
 temples, the sight of the city, the possession of liberty — in short, 
 
 1 The notaries at Rome were in the pay of the state ; they were chiefly 
 employed in making up the public accounts. In the time of Cicero it 
 seems to have been lawful for any one to obtain the office of scriba by 
 purchase (see Cic. in Verr. ii. 79), and freedmen and their sons frequent- 
 ly availed themselves of this privilege. 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 49 
 
 this light and this soil of his, common to us all, is not both 
 dear and pleasant and delightful ? 
 
 VIII. It is worth while, O conscript fathers, to know the 
 inclinations of the freedmen ; who, having by their good for- 
 tune obtained the rights of citizens, consider this to be really 
 their country, which some who have been born here, and born 
 in the highest rank, have considered to be not their own coun- 
 try, but a city of enemies. But why should I speak of men of 
 this body whom their private fortunes, whom their common 
 republic, whom, in short, that liberty which is most delightful 
 has called forth to defend the safety of their country ! There 
 is no slave who is only in an endurable condition of slavery 
 who does not shudder at the audacity of citizens, who does not 
 desire that these things may stand, who does not contribute 
 all the good-will that he can, and all that he dares, to the com- 
 mon safety. 
 
 "Wherefore, if this consideration moves any one, that it has 
 been heard that some tool of Lentulus is running about the 
 shops — is hoping that the minds of some poor and ignorant 
 men may be corrupted by bribery ; that, indeed, has been 
 attempted and begun, but no one has been found either so 
 wretched in their fortune or so abandoned in their inclination 
 as not to wish the place of their seat and work and daily gain, 
 their chamber and their bed, and, in short, the tranquil course 
 or their lives, to be still preserved to them. And far the 
 greater part of those who are in the shops — ay, indeed (for 
 that is the more correct way of speaking), the whole of this 
 class is of all the most attached to tranquillity; their whole 
 stock, forsooth, their whole employment and livelihood, exists 
 by the peaceful intercourse of the citizens, and is wholly sup- 
 ported by peace. And if their gains are diminished whenever 
 their shops are shut, what will they be when thej are burned ? 
 And, as this is the case, O conscript fathers, the protection of 
 the Roman people is not wanting to you ; do you take care 
 that you do not seem to be wanting to the Roman people. 
 
 IX. You have a consul preserved out of many dangers and 
 plots, and from death itself, not for his own life, but for your 
 safety. All ranks agree for the preservation of the republic 
 with heart and will, with zeal, with virtue, with their voice. 
 Your common country, besieged by the hands and weapons of 
 an impious conspiracy, stretches forth her hands to you as a 
 suppliant ; to you she recommends herself, to you she recom- 
 
 C 
 
50 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mends the lives of all the citizens, and the citadel, and the 
 Capitol, and the altars of the household gods, and the eternal 
 unextinguishable fire of Vesta, and' all the temples of all the 
 gods, and the altars and the walls and the houses of the city. 
 Moreover, your own lives, those of your wives and children, 
 the fortunes of all men, your homes, your hearths, are this day 
 interested in your decision. 
 
 You have a leader mindful of you, forgetful of himself — an 
 opportunity which is not always given to men ; you have all 
 ranks, all individuals, the whole Koman people (a thing which 
 in civil transactions we see this day for the first time), full of 
 one and the same feeling. Think with what great labor this 
 our dominion was founded, by what virtue this our liberty was 
 established, by what kind favor of the gods our fortunes were 
 aggrandized and ennobled, and how nearly one night destroyed 
 them all. That this may never hereafter be able not only to 
 be done, but not even to be thought of, you must this day take 
 care. And I have spoken thus, not in order to stir you up 
 who almost outrun me myself, but that my voice, which ought 
 to be the chief voice in the republic, may appear to have ful- 
 filled the duty which belongs to me as consul. 
 
 X. Now, before I return to the decision, I will say a few 
 words concerning myself.. As numerous as is the band of 
 conspirators — and you see that it is very great — so numerous 
 a multitude of enemies do I see that I have brought upon my- 
 self. But I consider them base and powerless and despicable 
 and abject. But if at any time that band shall be excited by 
 the wickedness and madness of any one, and shall show itself 
 more powerful than your dignity and that of the republic, yet, 
 O conscript fathers, I shall never repent of my actions and of 
 my advice. Death, indeed, which they perhaps threaten me 
 with, is prepared for all men ; such glory during life as you 
 have honored me with by your decrees no one has ever at- 
 tained to. For you have passed votes of congratulation to 
 others for having governed the republic successfully, but to me 
 alone for having saved it. 
 
 Let Scipio be thought illustrious, he by whose wisdom and 
 valor Hannibal was compelled to return into Africa, and to 
 depart from Italy. Let the second Africanus be extolled with 
 conspicuous praise, who destroyed two cities most hostile to 
 this empire, Carthage and Numantia. Let Lucius Paullus be 
 thought a great man, he whose triumphal car was graced by 
 
IV. AGAINST L. CATILINE. 51 
 
 Perses, previously a most powerful and noble monarch. Let 
 Marius be held in eternal honor, who twice delivered Italy 
 from siege, and from the fear of slavery. Let Pompey be pre- 
 ferred to them all — Pompey, whose exploits and whose virtues 
 we bounded by the same districts and limits as the course of 
 the sun. There will be, forsooth, among the praises of these 
 men, some room for my glory, unless haply it be a greater deed 
 to open to us provinces whither we may fly, than to take care 
 that those who are at a distance may, when conquerors, have 
 a home to return to. 
 
 Although in one point the circumstances of foreign triumph 
 are better than those of domestic victory ; because foreign en- 
 emies, either if they be crushed become one's servants, or if 
 they be received into the state, think themselves bound to us 
 by obligation ; but those of the number of citizens who be- 
 come depraved by madness and once begin to be enemies to 
 their country — those men, when you have defeated their at- 
 tempts to injure the republic, you can neither restrain by force 
 nor conciliate by kindness. So that I see that an eternal war 
 with all wicked citizens has "been undertaken by me ; which, 
 however, f_ am ronfid tmt can -easily be driven back from me 
 and mine by your aid, and by that of all good men, and by the 
 memory of such great dangers, which will remain, not only 
 among this people which has been saved, but in the discourse 
 and minds of all nations forever. Nor, in truth, can any power 
 be found which will be able to undermine and destroy your 
 union with the Boman knights, and such unanimity as exists 
 among all good men. 
 
 XI. As, then, this is the case, O conscript fathers, instead 
 of my military command — instead of the army — instead of 
 the province 1 which I have neglected, and the other badges 
 of honor which have been rejected by me for the sake of 
 protecting the city and your safety — in place of the ties of 
 clientship and hospitality' with citizens in the provinces, 
 which, however, by my influence in the city, I study to pre- 
 serve with as much toil as I labor to acquire them — in 
 place of all these things, and in reward for my singular zeal 
 
 1 Cicero, in order to tempt Antonius to aid him in counteracting the 
 treasonable design af Catiline, had given up to him the province of Mac- 
 edonia, which had fallen to his own lot ; and having accepted that of 
 Cisalpine Gaul in exchange for it. he gave that also to Quintus Metellus ; 
 being resolved to receive no emolument, directly or indirectly, from his 
 consulship. 
 
52 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 in your behalf, and for this diligence in saving the republic 
 which you behold, I ask nothing of you but the recollection 
 of this time and of my whole consulship. And as long as that 
 is fixed in your minds, I shall think I am fenced round by the 
 strongest wall. But if the violence of wicked men shall de- 
 ceive and overpower my expectations, I recommend to you my 
 little son, to whom, in truth, it will be protection enough, not 
 only for his safety, but even for his dignity, if you recollect 
 that he is the son of him who has saved all these things at his 
 ©wn single risk. 
 
 Wherefore, O conscript fathers, determine with care, as you 
 have begun, and boldly, concerning your own safety, and that 
 of the Roman people, and concerning your wives and chil- 
 dren ; concerning your altars and your hearths, your shrines 
 and temples ; concerning the houses and homes of the whole 
 city; concerning your dominion, your liberty, and the safety 
 of Italy and the whole republic. For you have a consul who 
 will not hesitate to obey your decrees, and who will be able, 
 as long as he lives, to defend what you decide on, and of his 
 own power to execute it. 1 
 
 1 This speech was spoken, and the criminals executed, on the fifth of 
 December. But Catiline was not yet entirely overcome. He had with 
 him in Etruria two legions — about twelve thousand men ; of which, how- 
 ever, not above one quarter were regularly armed. For some time by 
 marches and countermarches he eluded Antonius, but when the news 
 reached his army of the fate of the rest of the conspirators, it began to 
 desert him in great numbers. He attempted to escape into Gaul, but 
 found himself intercepted by Metellus, who had been sent thither by Cic- 
 ero with three legions. Antonius is supposed not to have been disin* 
 clined to connive at his escape, if he had not been compelled as it were 
 by his qusestor Sextus and his lieutenant Petreius to force him to a bat- 
 tle, in which, however, Antonius himself, being ill of the gout, did not 
 take the command, which devolved on Petreius, who after a severe action 
 destroyed Catiline and his whole army, of which every man is said to 
 have been slain in the battle. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 53 
 
 THE ORATION OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF L. MURE- 
 NA, PROSECUTED FOR BRIBERY. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Lucius Murena was one of the consuls elect ; the other being Silanus, 
 the brother-in-law of Cato. Cato, however, instigated Sulpicius, one 
 of the most eminent lawyers in Rome, and a defeated competitor for 
 the consulship, to prosecute Murena for bribery, under the new law 
 passed by Cicero (mentioned in the argument to the first oration against 
 Catiline), though he brought no charge against Silanus, who was as 
 guilty as Murena, if there was any guilt at all. Murena had served as 
 lieutenant to Lucullus in the Mithridatic war. Murena was defended 
 by Crassus, Hortensius, and Cicero. We have neither of the speeches 
 of his other advocates ; and even the speech of Cicero is not in a per- 
 fect state. Murena was unanimously acquitted, partly perhaps from 
 consideration of the argument which Cicero dwelt upon very earnest- 
 ly, of what great importance it was, at such a perilous time (for this 
 oration was spoken in the interval between the flight of Catiline to the 
 camp of Manlius, and the final detection and condemnation of the con- 
 spirators who remained behind), to have a consul of tried bravery and 
 military experience. It is remarkable that Sulpicius, the prosecutor, 
 was a most intimate friend of Cicero, who had exerted all his influence 
 to procure his election in this very contest for the consulship ; and so 
 also was Cato ; nor did the opposition which Cicero made to them in 
 this case cause any interruption to their intimacy, and we shall find, 
 in the Philippics, Cicero exerting himself to procure public funeral hon- 
 ors for Sulpicius. 
 
 I. What I entreated of the immortal gods, O judges, ac- 
 cording to the manners and institutions of our ancestors, op. 
 that day when, after taking the auspices in the comitia cen- 
 turiata, 1 I declared Lucius Murena to have been elected con- 
 sul — namely, that that fact might turn out gloriously and hap- 
 pily for me and for my office, and for the Roman nation and 
 people — that same thing do I now pray for from the same 
 
 1 The comitia centuriata, or as they were sometimes called majora, 
 were the assembly in which the people gave their votes according to the 
 classification instituted by Servius Tullius ; they were held in the Cam- 
 pus Martius without the city, and in reference to thei* - military organiza- 
 tion they were summoned by the sound of the horn, not by the voice of 
 the lictor. All magistrates were elected in these comitia. 
 
54 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 immortal gods, that the consulship may be obtained by that 
 same man with safety, and that your inclinations and opinions 
 may agree with the wishes and suffrages of the Roman peo- 
 ple, and that that fact may bring to you and to the Roman 
 people peace, tranquillity, ease, and unanimity. And if that 
 solemn prayer of the comitia, consecrated under the auspices 
 of the consul, has as much power and holy influence as the 
 dignity of the republic requires, I pray also that the matter 
 may turn out happily, fortunately, and prosperously to those 
 men to whom the consulship was given when I presided over 
 the election. 
 
 And as this is the case, O judges, and as all the power of 
 the immortal gods is either transferred to, or at all events is 
 shared with you, the same consul recommends him now to 
 your good faith who before recommended him to the immortal 
 gods ; so that he being both declared consul and being defend- 
 ed by the voice of the same man, may uphold the kindness of 
 the Roman people to your safety and that of all the citizens. 
 And since in this duty which I have undertaken the zeal of 
 my defense has been found fault with by the accusers, and 
 even the very fact of my having undertaken the cause at all, 
 before I begin to say any thing of Lucius Murena, I will say 
 a few words on behalf of myself; not because at this time the 
 defense of my duty seems to me more important than that of 
 his safety, but in order that, when what I have done is ap- 
 proved of by you, I may be able with the greater authority to 
 repel the attacks of his enemies upon his honor, his reputation, 
 and all his fortunes. 
 
 II. And first of all I will answer Marcus Cato, a man who 
 directs his life by a certain rule and system, and who most 
 carefully weighs the motives of every duty, about my own 
 duty. Cato says it is not right, that I who have been consul 
 and the very passer 1 of the law of bribery and corruption, and 
 who behaved so rigorously in my own consulship, should take 
 up the cause of Lucius Murena ; and his reproach has great 
 weight with me, and makes me desirous to make not only you, 
 
 1 There had been several previous laws against bribery and corruption 
 (de amhitv). The Lex Aciiia, passed b.c. 67, imposed a fine on the of- 
 fending party, with exclusion from the senate, and from all public offices. 
 The Lex Ttulia, passed in Cicero's consulship, added banishment for ten 
 years ; and, among other restrictions, forbade any one to exhibit gladia- 
 tors within two years of his being a candidate, unless he was required to 
 do bo on a fixed day by a testator's will. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 55 
 
 judges, whom I am especially bound to satisfy, but also 
 Cato himself, a most worthy and upright man, approve the 
 reasons of my action. By whom then, O Marcus Cato, is it 
 more just that a consul should be defended than by a consul ? 
 Who can there be, who ought there to be, dearer to me in the 
 republic, than he to whom the republic which has been sup- 
 ported by my great labors and dangers is delivered by me alone 
 to be supported for the future? For if, in the demanding 
 back things which may be alienated, he ought to incur the 
 hazard of the trial who has bound himself by a legal obliga- 
 tion, surely still more rightly in the trial of a consul elect, that 
 consul who has declared him consul ought most especially to 
 be the first niover of the kindness of the Roman people, and 
 his defender from danger. 
 
 And if, as is accustomed to be done in some states, an ad- 
 vocate was appointed to this cause by the public, that man 
 would above all others be assigned to one invested with hon- 
 ors as his defender, who having himself enjoyed the same hon- 
 or, brought to his advocacy no less authority than ability. 
 But if those who are being wafted from the main into harbor 
 are wont with the greatest care to inform those who are sail- 
 ing out of harbor, of the character of storms, and pirates, and 
 of places, because nature prompts us to favor those who are 
 entering on the same dangers which we have passed through, 
 of what disposition ought I to be, who after having been much 
 tossed about am now almost in sight of land, toward him by 
 whom I see the greatest tempests of the republic about to be 
 encountered % "Wherefore, if it is the part of a virtuous con- 
 sul not only to see what is being done, but to foresee what is 
 likely to happen, I will show in another place how much it is 
 for the interest of the common safety that there should be two 
 consuls in the republic on the first of January. And if that 
 be the case, then it is not so much my duty which ought to 
 summon me to defend the fortunes of a man who is my friend, 
 as the republic which ought to invite the consul to the de- 
 fense of the common safety. 
 
 III. For as to my having passed a law concerning bribery 
 and corruption, certainly I passed it so as not to abrogate 
 that law which I have long since made for myself concerning 
 defending my fellow-citizens from dangers. If, indeed, I con- 
 fessed that a largess had been distributed, and were to defend 
 it as having been rightly done, I should be acting wrongly, 
 
56 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 even if another had passed the law ; but when I am saying in 
 defense that nothing has been done contrary to law, then what 
 reason is there that my having passed the law should be an ob- 
 stacle to my undertaking the defense? 
 
 He says that it does not belong to the same severity of char- 
 acter, to have banished from the city by words, and almost by 
 express command, Catiline, when planning the destruction of 
 the republic within its very walls, and now to speak on be- 
 half of Lucius Murcna. But I have always willingly acted 
 the part of lenity and clemency, which nature itself has taught 
 me ; but I have not sought the character of severity and rig- 
 or; but I have supported it when imposed upon me by the 
 republic, as the dignity of this empire required at the time of 
 the greatest peril to the citizens. But if then, when the pub- 
 lic required vigor and severity, I overcame my nature, and 
 was as severe as I was forced to be, not as I wished to be; 
 now, when all causes invite me to mercy and humanity, with 
 what great zeal ought I to obey my nature and my usual hab- 
 its'? and concerning my duty of defending, and your method 
 of prosecuting, perhaps I shall have again to speak in another 
 part of my speech. 
 
 But, O Judges, the complaint of Servius Sulpicius, a most 
 wise and accomplished man, moved me no less than the accu- 
 sation of Cato ; for he said that he was exceedingly and most 
 bitterly vexed that I had forgotten my friendship and intima- 
 cy with him, and was defending the cause of Lucius Murena 
 against him. I wish, O judges, to satisfy him, and to make 
 you arbitrators between us. For as it is a sad thing to be 
 accused with truth in a case of friendship, so, even if you be 
 falsely accused, it is not to be neglected. I, O Servius .Sulpi- 
 cius, both allow that according to my intimacy with you 1 did 
 owe you all my zeal and activity to assist you in your can- 
 vass, and I think I displayed it. When you stood for the 
 consulship, nothing on my part was wanting to you which 
 could have been expected either from a friend, or from an 
 obliging person, or from a consul. That time has gone by — 
 the case is changed. I think, and am persuaded, that I owed 
 you as much aid as ever you have ventured to require of me 
 against the advancement of Lucius Murena; but no aid at all 
 against his safety. Nor does it follow, because I stood by you 
 when you were a candidate for the consulship, that on that 
 account I ought now to be an :.- int to you in the same 
 
FOR L. MURENA. CI 
 
 way, when you are attacking Murena himself. And this is 
 not only not praiseworthy — it is not even allowable, that we 
 may not defend even those who are most entirely strangers to 
 us when our friends accuse them, v 
 
 IV. But, in truth, there is, O judges, between Murena and 
 myself an ancient and great friendship, which shall not be 
 overwhelmed in a capital trial by Servius Sulpicius, merely 
 because it was overcome by superior considerations when he 
 was contesting an honorable office with that same person. 
 And if this cause had not existed, yet the dignity of the man, 
 and the honorable nature of that office which he has obtain- 
 ed, would have branded me with the deepest reproach of pride 
 and cruelty, if in so great a danger I had repudiated the cause 
 of a man so distinguished by his own virtues and by the hon- 
 ors paid him by the Eoman people. For it is not now in 
 my power — it is not possible, for me to shrink from devoting 
 my labor to alleviate the dangers of others. For when such 
 rewards have been given me for this diligence of mine, such 
 as before now have never been given to any one, to abandon 
 those labors by which I have earned them, as soon as I have 
 received them, would be the act of a crafty and ungrateful 
 man. 
 
 If, indeed, I may rest from my labors — if you advise me 
 that I can do so — if no reproach of indolence, none of un- 
 worthy arrogance, none of inhumanity is incurred by so do- 
 ing, in good truth I will willingly rest. But if flying from 
 toil convicts me of laziness — if rejection of suppliants con- 
 victs me of arrogance — if neglect of my friends is a proof of 
 worthlessness, then, above all others, this cause is such a one 
 as no industrious, or merciful, or obliging man can abandon. 
 And you may easily form your opinion of this matter, O Ser- 
 vius, from your own pursuits. For if you think it necessary 
 to give answers to even the adversaries of your friends when 
 they consult you about law, and if you think it shameful, 
 when you have been retained as an advocate for him in whose 
 cause you have come forward, to fail ; be not so unjust, as, 
 when your springs are open even to your enemies, to think it 
 ricrht that our small streams should be closed even against our 
 friends. 
 
 Forsooth, if my intimacy with you had prevented my ap- 
 pearing in this cause, and if the same thing had happened 
 to Quintus Hortensius and Marcus Crassus, most honorable 
 
 C 2 
 
58 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 men, and to others also by whom I know that your affection 
 is greatly esteemed, the consul elect would have had no de- 
 fender in that city in which our ancestors intended that even 
 the lowest of the people should never want an advocate. But 
 I, O judges, should think myself wicked if I had failed my 
 friend — cruel if I had failed one in distress — arrogant if I had 
 failed the consul. So that what ought to be given to friend- 
 ship shall be abundantly given by me ; so that I will deal 
 with you, O Servius, as if my brother, who is the dearest of 
 all men to me, stood in your place. What ought to be given 
 to duty, to good faith, to religion, that I will so regulate as to 
 recollect that I am speaking contrary to the wish of one friend 
 to defend another friend from danser. 
 
 Y. I understand, O judges, that this whole accusation is 
 divided into three parts ; and that one of them refers to find- 
 ing fault with Murena's habits of life, another to his contest 
 for the dignity, and a third to charges of bribery and corrup- 
 tion. And of these three divisions, that first, which ought to 
 have been the weightiest of all, was so weak and trifling, that 
 it was rather some general rule of accusing, than any real 
 occasion for finding fault, which prompted them to say any 
 thing about the way of life of Lucius Murena. For Asia has 
 been mentioned as a reproach to him, which was not sought 
 by him for the sake of pleasure and luxury, but was traversed 
 by him in the performance of military labors ; but if he while 
 a young man had not served under his father when general, 
 he would have seemed either to have been afraid of the ene- 
 my, or of the command of his father, or else to have been re- 
 pudiated by his father. Shall we say that, when all the sons 
 who wear the praetexta 1 are accustomed to sit on the chariot 
 of those who are celebrating a triumph, this man ought to have 
 shunned adorning the triumph of his father with military gifts, 
 so as almost to share his father's triumph for exploits which 
 they had performed in common'? 
 
 But this man, O judges, both was in Asia and was a great 
 assistance to that bravest of men, his own father, in his 
 dangers, a comfort to him in his labors, a source of congratu- 
 lation to him in his victory. And if Asia does carry with 
 it a suspicion of luxury, surely it is a praiseworthy thing, 
 
 1 The toga prcetcxta was a robe bordered with purple, worn by the 
 higher magistrates, and by freeborn children till they arrived at the age 
 of manhood. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 59 
 
 not never to have seen Asia, but to have lived temperately in 
 Asia. So that the name of Asia should not have been ob- 
 jected to Lucius Murena, a country whence renown was de- 
 rived for his family, lasting recollection for his race, honor 
 and glory for his name, but some crime or disgrace, either 
 incurred in Asia, or brought home from Asia. But to have 
 served campaigns in that war which was not only the greatest 
 but the only war which the Eoman people was waging at that 
 time, is a proof of valor ; to have served most willingly under 
 his father, who was commander-in-chief, is a proof of piety ; 
 that the end of his campaign was the victory and triumph of 
 his father, is a proof of good fortune. There is, therefore, no 
 room in these matters for speaking ill of him, because praise 
 takes up the whole room. 
 
 VI. Cato calls Lucius Murena a dancer. If this be im- 
 puted to him truly, it is the reproach of a violent accuser; 
 but if falsely, it is the abuse of a scurrilous railer. "Where- 
 fore, as you are a person of such influence, you ought not, O 
 Marcus Cato, to pick up abusive expressions out of the streets, 
 or out of some quarrel of buffoons ; you ought not rashly to 
 call a consul of the Eoman people a dancer ; but to consider 
 with what other vices besides that man must be tainted to 
 whom that can with truth be imputed. For no man, one may 
 almost say, ever dances when sober, unless perhaps he be a 
 madman, nor in solitude, nor in a moderate and sober party ; 
 dancing is the last companion of prolonged feasting, of lux- 
 urious situation, and of many refinements. You charge me 
 with that which must necessarily be the last of all vices, you 
 say nothing of those things without which this vice absolutely 
 can not exist ; no shameless feasting, no improper love, no 
 carousing, no lust, no extravagance is alleged; and when 
 those things which have the name of pleasure, and which are 
 vicious, are not found, do you think that you will find the 
 shadow of luxury in that man in whom you can not find the 
 luxury itself? 
 
 Can nothing, therefore, be said against the life of Lucius 
 Murena"? Absolutely nothing, I say, O judges. The consul 
 elect is defended by me on this ground, that no fraud of his, 
 no avarice, no perfidy, no cruelty, no wanton word can be 
 alleged against him in his whole life. It is well. The foun- 
 dations of the defense are laid ; for we are not as yet defend- 
 ing this virtuous and upright man with my own panegyric, 
 
60 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 which I will employ presently, but almost by the eonfessior of 
 his adversaries. 
 
 VII. And now that this is settled, the approach to the con- 
 test for this dignity, which was the second part of the accusa- 
 tion, is more easy to me. I see that there is in you, O Servi- 
 us Sulpicius, the greatest dignity of birth, of integrity, of in- 
 dustry, and of all the other accomplishments which a man 
 ought to rely on when he offers himself as a candidate for the 
 consulship. I know that all those qualities are equal in Lu- 
 cius Murena, and so equal that he can neither be surpassed in 
 worth by you, nor can himself surpass you in worth. You 
 have spoken slightingly of the family of Lucius Murena, you 
 have extolled your own ; but if you dwell on this topic so as 
 to allow no one to be considered as born of a good family, un- 
 less he be a patrician, you will compel the common people 
 again to secede to the Aventine Hill. 1 But if there are hon- 
 orable and considerable families among the plebeians — both 
 the great-grandfather of Lucius Murena, and his grandfather, 
 were praetors ; and his father, when he had triumphed most 
 splendidly and honorably for exploits performed in his praetor- 
 ship, left the steps toward the acquisition of the consulship 
 more easy, because that honor which was due to the father was 
 demanded by the son. 
 
 But your nobility, O Servius Sulpicius, although it is most 
 eminent, yet it is known rather to men versed in literature and 
 history, but not much so to the people and to the voters. For 
 your father was in the rank of the knights, your grandfather 
 was renowned for no conspicuous action. So that the recol- 
 lection of your nobility is to be extracted not from the modern 
 conversation of men, but from the antiquity of annals. So 
 that I also am accustomed to class you in our number, be- 
 cause you by your own virtue and industry, though you are 
 the son of a Roman knight, have yet earned the being consid- 
 ered worthy of the very highest advancement. Nor did it 
 ever seem to me that there was less virtue in Quintus Pompe- 
 ius, a new man and a most brave man, than in that most high- 
 born man, Marcus ^Emilius.V' Indeed, it is a proof of the same 
 spirit and genius, to hand down to his posterity, as Pompeius 
 
 1 This refers to the time of Appius the Decemvir, when the soldiers, 
 at the call of Virginius, after the death of Virginia, occupied the Aven- 
 tine, and were joined by great part of the plebs, demanding the abolition 
 of the decemvirate. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 61 
 
 did, an honorable name, which he had not received from his 
 ancestors ; and, as Scaurus did, to renew the recollection of his 
 family which was almost extinct. 
 
 VIII. Although I now thought, O judges, that it had been 
 brought about by my labors, that a want of nobleness of birth 
 should not be objected to many brave men, who were neglect- 
 ed, though men were praising not only the Curii, the Catos, 
 the Pompeii, those ancient new but most distinguished men, 
 but also, these more modern new men, the Marii, and Didii, 
 and Ccelii. But when I, after so great an interval, had broken 
 down those barriers of nobility, so that entrance to the consul- 
 ship should hereafter be opened, as it was in the time of our 
 ancestors, not more to high birth than to virtue, I did not 
 think when a consul-elect of an ancient and illustrious family 
 was being defended by the son of a Roman knight, himself a 
 consul, that the accusers would say any thing about newness 
 of family. In truth it happened to me myself to stand against 
 two patricians, one a most worthless and audacious man, the 
 other a most modest and virtuous one ; yet I surpassed Cati- 
 line in worth, Galba in popularity. But if that ought to have 
 been imputed as a crime to a new man, forsooth, I should have 
 wanted neither enemies nor detractors. 
 
 Let us, therefore, give up saying any thing about birth, the 
 dignity of which is great in both the candidates ; let us look at 
 the other points. He stood for the quaestorship at the same 
 time with me, and I was appointed first. We need not an- 
 swer every point ; for it can not escape the observation of any 
 one of you, when many men are appointed equal in dignity, but 
 only one can obtain the first place, that the order of the digni- 
 ty and of the declaration of it are not the same, because the 
 declaration has degrees, but the dignity of all is usually the 
 same. But the qusestorship of each Avas given them by almost 
 an equal decision of the lots : the one had by the Titian law a 
 quiet and orderly province ; you had that one of Ostia, at the 
 name of which, when the quaestors distribute the provinces by 
 lot, a shout is raised — a province not so much pleasant and 
 illustrious as troublesome and vexatious. The name of each 
 was together in the quasstorship. For the drawing of the lots 
 gave you no field on which your virtue could display itself and 
 make itself known. 
 
 \ IX. The remaining space of time is dedicated to the contest. 
 It was employed by each in a very dissimilar fashion. Servius 
 
G2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 adopted the civil service, full of anxiety and annoyance, of an- 
 swering, writing, cautioning ; lie learned the civil law ; he 
 worked early and late, he toiled, he was visible to every one, 
 he endured the folly of crowds, he tolerated their arrogance, 
 he bore all sorts of difficulties, he lived at the will of others, 
 not at his own. It is a great credit, a thing pleasing to men, for 
 one man to labor hard in that science which will profit many. 
 
 What has Murena been doing in the mean time ? He was 
 lieutenant to Lucius Lucullus, a very brave and wise man, and 
 a consummate general; and in this post he commanded an 
 army, he fought a battle, he engaged the enemy, he routed 
 numerous forces of the enemy, he took several cities, some by 
 storm, some by blockade. He traversed that populous and 
 luxurious Asia you speak of, in such a manner as to leave in 
 it no trace either of his avarice or of his luxury ; in a most 
 important war he so behaved himself that he performed many 
 glorious exploits without the commander-in-chief; but the 
 commander-in-chief did nothing without him. And all these 
 things, although I am speaking in the presence of Lucius Lu- 
 cullus, yet that we may not appear to have a license of inven- 
 tion granted us by him on account of the danger we are in, 
 we are borne witness to in the public dispatches; in which 
 Lucius Lucullus gives him such praise as no ambitious nor 
 envious commander-in-chief could have given another while 
 dividing with him the credit of his exploits. 
 
 There is in each of the rivals the greatest honesty, the 
 greatest worth ; which I, if Servius will allow me, will place in 
 equal and in the same panegyric. But he will not let me ; he 
 discusses the military question ; he attacks the whole of his 
 services as lieutenant ; he thinks the consulship is an office re- 
 quiring diligence and all this daily labor. " Have you been," 
 says he, " so many years with the army ? you can never have 
 been near the forum. Have you been away so long? and then, 
 when after a long interval you arrive, will you contend in dig- 
 nity with those who have made their abode in the forum ?" 
 First of all, as to that assiduity of ours, O Servius, you know 
 not what disgust, what satiety, it sometimes causes men ; it 
 was, indeed, exceedingly advantageous for me myself that my 
 influence was in the sight of all men; but I overcame the 
 weariness of me by my own great labor; and you, perhaps, 
 have done the same thing, but yet a regret at our absence 
 would have been no injury to either of us. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 63 
 
 But, to say no more of this, and to return to the contest of 
 studies and pursuits; how can it be doubted that the glory 
 of military exploits contributes more dignity to aid in the 
 acquisition of the consulship, than renown for skill in civil 
 law ? Do you wake before the night is over in order to give 
 answers to those who consult you ? He has done so in order 
 to arrive betimes with his army at the place to which he is 
 marching. The cock-crow wakens you, but the sound of the 
 trumpet rouses him ; you conduct an action ; he is marshaling 
 an army : you take care lest your clients should be convicted ; 
 he lest his cities or camp be taken. He occupies posts, and 
 exercises skill to repel the troops of the enemy, you to keep 
 out the rain ; he is practiced in extending the boundaries of 
 the empire, you in governing the present territories ; and in 
 short, for I must say what I think, pre-eminence in military 
 skill excels all other virtues. 
 
 X. It is this which has procured its name for the Roman 
 people ; it is this which has procured eternal glory for this 
 city ; it is this which has compelled the whole world to sub- 
 mit to our dominion ; all domestic affairs, all these illustrious 
 pursuits of ours, and our forensic renown, and our industry, 
 are safe under the guardianship and protection of military 
 valor. As soon as the first suspicion of disturbance is heard 
 of, in a moment our arts have not a word to say for them- 
 selves. 
 
 And since you seem to me to embrace that knowledge of the 
 law which you have, as if it were a darling daughter, I will 
 not permit you to lie under such a mistake as to think that, 
 whatever it may be, which you have so thoroughly learned, any 
 thing very pre-eminent. For your other virtues of continence, 
 of gravity, of justice, of good faith, and all other good quali- 
 ties, I have always considered you very worthy of the consul- 
 ship and of all honor ; but as for your having learned civil 
 law, I will not say you have wasted your pains, but I will say 
 that there is no way made to lead to the consulship by that 
 profession ; for all arts which can conciliate for us the good- 
 will of the Roman people ought to possess both an admirable 
 dignity, and a very delightful utility. 
 
 XI. The highest dignity is in those men who excel in mili- 
 tary glory. For all things which are in the empire and in 
 the constitution of the state, are supposed to be defended and 
 strengthened by them. There is also the greatest usefulness 
 
£4 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 in them, since it is by their wisdom and their danger that we 
 can enjoy both the republic and also our own private posses- 
 sions. The power of eloquence also is no doubt valuable and 
 full of dignity, and it has often been of influence in the elec- 
 tion of a consul to be able by wisdom and oratory to sway the 
 minds of the senate and the people, and those who decide on 
 affairs. A consul is required who may be able sometimes to 
 repress the madness of the tribunes, who may be able to bend 
 the excited populace, who may resist corruption. It is not 
 strange, if, on account of this faculty, even men who were not 
 nobly born have often obtained the consulship ; especially when 
 this same quality procures a man great gratitude, and the firm- 
 est friendship, and the greatest zeal in his behalf; but of all 
 this there is nothing, O Sulpicius, in your profession. 
 
 First of all, what dignity can there be in so limited a 
 science? For they are but small matters, conversant chiefly 
 about single letters and punctuation between words. Second- 
 ly, if in the time of our ancestors there was any inclination to 
 marvel at that study of yours, now that all your mysteries 
 are revealed, it is wholly despised and disregarded. At one 
 time few men knew whether a thing might be lawfully done 
 or not ; for men ordinarily had no records ; those were pos- 
 sessed of great power who were consulted, so that even days 
 for consultation were begged of them beforehand, as from the 
 Chaldean astrologers. A certain notary was found, by name 
 Cnams Flavius, who could deceive 1 the most wary, and who 
 set the people records to be learned by heart each day, and 
 who pilfered their own learning from the profoundest lawyers. 
 So they, being angry because they were afraid, lest, when their 
 daily course of action was divulged and understood, people 
 would be able to proceed by law without their assistance, adopt- 
 ed a sort of cipher, in order to make their presence necessary 
 in every cause. 
 
 XII. When this might have been well transacted thus — 
 "The Sabine farm is mine." "No; it is mine:" then a 
 trial ; they would not have it so. " The farm," says he, 
 " which is in the territory which is called Sabine :" verbose 
 enough — well, what next 1 ? "That farm, I say, is mine ac- 
 cording to the rights of Koman citizens." What then ? " and 
 
 1 The Latin strictly is, " pierce the eyes of ravens." It ^as a prover- 
 bial expression. 
 
FOR L. MUREXA. 
 
 therefore I summon you according to law, seizing you by the 
 hand." 
 
 The man of whom the field was demanded did not know 
 how to answer one who was so talkatively litigious. The 
 same lawyer goes across, like a Latin flute-player — says he, 
 " In the place from whence you summoned me having seized 
 me by the hand, from thence I recall you there." In the mean 
 time, as to the prsetor, lest he should think himself a fine 
 fellow and a fortunate one, and himself say something of his 
 own accord, a form of words, is composed for him also, absurd 
 in other points, and especially in this : " Each of them being 
 alive and being present, I say that that is the way." "Enter 
 on the way." That wise man was at hand who was to show 
 them the way. "Return on your path." They returned 
 with the same guide. These things, I may well suppose, 
 appeared ridiculous to full-grown men ; that men when they 
 have stood rightly and in their proper place should be ordered 
 to depart, in order that they might immediately return again 
 to the place they had left. Every thing was tainted with the 
 same childish folly. "When I behold you in the power of 
 the law." And this : " But do you say this who claim the 
 right?" And while all this was made a mystery of, they who 
 had the key to the mystery were necessarily sought after by 
 men ; but as soon as these things were revealed, and were 
 bandied about and sifted in men's hands, they were found tc 
 be thoroughly destitute of wisdom, but very full of fraud and 
 folly. 
 
 For though many things have been excellently settled by 
 the laws, yet most of them have been depraved and corrupted 
 by the genius of the lawyers. Our ancestors determined that 
 all women, on account of the inferiority of their understand- 
 ing, should be under the protection of trustees. These men 
 have found out classes of trustees, whose power is subordinate 
 to that of the women. The one party did not wish the 
 domestic sacrifices to be abolished in families; by the in- 
 genuity of the others old men were found to marry by the 
 form called coemptio, 1 for the sake of getting rid 'of these 
 
 1 Coemptio was " a ceremony of marriage consisting in a mock sale, 
 •whereby the bride and bridegroom sold themselves to each other." Rid- 
 dle in voce. " Coemptio was effected by mancipatio, and consequently 
 the wife was in mancipio" — Smith, Diet. Ant. p. 603, § v., v. Marriage 
 (Roman). 
 
CG CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 sacred ceremonies. Lastly, in every part of the civil law they 
 neglected equity itself, but adhered to the letter of the law ; as 
 for instance, because in somebody's books they found the name 
 of Caia. they thought that all the women who had married by 
 coemptio were called Caias. And that often appears marvel- 
 ous to me, that so many men of such ability should now for so 
 many years have been unable to decide whether the proper ex- 
 pressions to use be the day after to-morrow or the third day, a 
 judge or an arbiter, a cause or a proceeding. 
 
 Xffl. Therefore, as I said before, the dignity of a consul 
 has never been consistent with that science ; being one con- 
 sisting wholly of fictitious and imaginary formulas. And its 
 right to public gratitude was even much smaller. For that 
 which is open to every one, and which is equally accessible to 
 me and to my adversary, can not be considered as entitled to 
 any gratitude. And therefore you have now not only lost 
 the hope of conferring a favor, but even the compliment that 
 used to be paid to you by men asking your permission to con- 
 sult you. No one can be considered wise on account of his 
 proficiency in that knowledge which is neither of any use at 
 all out of Rome, nor at Rome either during the vacations. 
 Nor has any one any right to be considered skillful in law, be- 
 cause there can not be any difference between men in a branch 
 of knowledge with which they are all acquainted. And a mat- 
 ter is not thought the more difficult for being contained in a 
 very small number of very intelligible documents. Therefore, 
 if you excite my anger, though I am excessively busy, in three 
 days I will profess myself a laAvyer. In truth, all that need be 
 said about the written law is contained in written books ; nor 
 is there any thing written with such precise accuracy, that I 
 can not add to the formula, " which is the matter at present 
 in dispute." If you answer what you ought, you will seem to 
 have made the same answer as Servius ; if you make any other 
 reply, you will seem to be acquainted with and to know how 
 to handle disputed points. 
 
 Wherefore, not only is the military glory which you slight 
 to be preferred to your formulas and legal pleas ; but even the 
 habit of speaking is far superior, as regards the attainment of 
 honors, to the profession to the practice of which you devote 
 yourself. And therefore many men appear to me to have pre- 
 ferred this :it first; but afterward, being unable to attain emi- 
 nence in this profession, they have descended to the other. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 67 
 
 Just as men say, when talking of Greek practitioners, that 
 those men are flute-players who can not become harp-players, 
 so we see some men, who have not been able to make orators, 
 turn to the study of the law. There is great labor in the 
 practice of oratory. It is an important business, one of great 
 dignity, and of most exceeding influence. In truth, from you 
 lawyers men seek some degree of advantage ; but from those 
 who are orators they seek actual safety. In the next place, 
 your replies and your decisions are constantly overturned by 
 eloquence, and can not be made firm except by the advocacy 
 of the orator ; in which if I had made any great proficiency 
 myself, I should be more sparing while speaking in its praise ; 
 but at present I am saying nothing about myself, but only 
 about those men who either are or have been great in ora- 
 tory. 
 
 XIV. There are two occupations which can place men in 
 the highest rank of dignity ; one, that of a general, the other, 
 that of an accomplished orator. For by the latter the orna- 
 ments of peace are preserved, by the former the dangers of 
 war are rebelled. But the other virtues are of great import- 
 ance from their own intrinsic excellence, such as justice, good 
 faith, modesty, temperance ; and in these, O Servius, all men 
 know that you are very eminent. But at present I am speak- 
 ing of those pursuits calculated to aid men in the attainment 
 of honors, and not about the intrinsic excellency of each pur- 
 suit. For all those occupations are dashed out of our hands 
 at once, the moment the slightest new commotion begins to 
 have a warlike sound. In truth, as an ingenious poet and a 
 very admirable author says, the moment there is a mention 
 of battle, " away is driven" not only your grandiloquent pre- 
 tenses to prudence, but even that mistress of all things, " wis- 
 dom. Every thing is done by violence. The orator," not 
 only he who is troublesome in speaking, and garrulous, but 
 even " the good orator is despised ; the horrid soldier is loved." 
 But as for your profession, that is trampled under foot ; " men 
 seek their rights not by law, but hand to hand by the sword," 
 says he. 
 
 And if that be the case, then I think, O Sulpicius, the fo- 
 rum must yield to the camp ; peace must yield to war, the 
 pen to the sword, and the shade to the sun. That, in fact, 
 must be the first thing in the city, by means of which the city 
 itself is the first of all cities. But Cato is busy proving that 
 
68 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 we are making too much of all these things in our speech ; and 
 that we have forgotten that that Mithridatic war was carried 
 on against nothing better than women. However, my opin- 
 ion is very different, O judges ; and I will say a little on that 
 subject ; for my cause does not depend on that. 
 
 For if all the wars which we have carried on against the 
 Greeks are to be despised, then let the triumph of Marcus Cu- 
 rius over king Pyrrhus be derided ; and that of Titus Flamin- 
 inus over Philip ; and that of Marcus Fulvius over the JEto- 
 lians ; and that of Lucius Paullus over king Perses ; and that 
 of Quintus Metellus over the false Philip; and that of Lucius 
 Mummius over the Corinthians. But, if all these wars were 
 of the greatest importance, and if our victories in them were 
 most acceptable, then why are the Asiatic nations and that 
 Asiatic enemy despised by you ? But, from our records of an- 
 cient deeds, I see that the Roman people carried on a most im- 
 portant war with Antiochus ; the conqueror in which war, Lu- 
 cius Scipio, who had already gained great glory when acting 
 in conjunction with his brother Publius, assumed the same hon- 
 or himself by taking a surname from Asia, as his brother did, 
 who, having subdued Africa, paraded his conquest by the as- 
 sumption of the name of Africanus. And in that war the re- 
 nown of your ancestor Marcus Cato was very conspicuous; but 
 he, if he was, as I make no doubt that he was, a man of the 
 same character as I see that you are, would never have gone to 
 that war, if he had thought that it was only going to be a war 
 against women. Nor would the senate have prevailed on Pub- 
 lius Africanus to go as lieutenant to his brother, when he him- 
 self, a little while before, having forced Hannibal out of Italy, 
 having driven him out of Africa, and having crushed the pow- 
 er of Carthage, had delivered the republic from the greatest 
 dangers, if that war had not been considered an important and 
 formidable war. 
 
 XV. But if you diligently consider what the power of 
 Mithridates was, and what his exploits were, and what sort of 
 a man he was himself, you will in truth prefer this king to 
 all the kings with whom the Roman people has ever waged 
 war; a man whom Lucius Sylla — not a very inexperienced 
 general, to say the least of it — at the head of a numerous and 
 powerful army, after a severe battle, allowed to depart having 
 made peace with him, though he had overrun all Asia with 
 war: whom Lucius Murena, my client's father, after having 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 69 
 
 warred against him with the greatest vigor and vigilance, left 
 greatly checked indeed, but not overwhelmed : a king, who hav- 
 ing taken several years to perfect his system and to strength- 
 en his warlike resources, became so powerful and enterpris- 
 ins: that he thought himself able to unite the Atlantic to the 
 Black Sea, and to combine the forces of Sertorius with his 
 own. And when two consuls had been sent to that war, 
 with the view of one pursuing Mithridates, and the other 
 protecting Bithynia, the disasters which befell one of them by 
 land and sea greatly increased the power and reputation of 
 the king. But the exploits of Lucius Lucullus were such 
 that it is impossible to mention any war which was more im- 
 portant, or in which greater abilities and valor were display- 
 ed. For when the \iolence of the entire war had broken 
 against the walls of Cyzicus, and as Mithridates thought that 
 he should find that city the door of Asia, and that, if that 
 were once broken down and forced, the whole province would 
 be open to him, every thing was so managed by Lucullus that 
 the city of our most faithful allies was defended, and all the 
 forces of the king were wasted away by the length of the 
 siege. What more need I say % Do you think that that na- 
 val battle at Tenedos, when the enemy's fleet were hastening 
 on with rapid course and under most eager admirals toward 
 Italy, full of hope and courage, was a trifling engagement — 
 an insignificant contest? I will say nothing of battles; I 
 pass over the sieges of towns. Being at length expelled from 
 his kingdom, still his wisdom and his influence were so great, 
 that, combining his forces with those of the king of Armenia, 
 he reappeared with new armies and new resources of every 
 kind. 
 
 XVI. And if it were my business now to speak of the 
 achievements of our army and of our general, I might men- 
 tion many most important battles. But that is not the pres- 
 ent question. This I do say : If this war, and this enemy 
 — if that king was a proper object for contempt, the senate 
 and Roman people would not have thought it one to be un- 
 dertaken with such care, nor would they have carried it on 
 for so many years, nor would the glory of Lucullus be as 
 great as it is. Nor would the Roman people have intrusted 
 the care of putting a finishing stroke to it to Cnaeus Pom- 
 peius ; though of all his battles, numberless as they are, that 
 appears to me to have been the most desperate and to have 
 
70 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 been maintained on both sides with the greatest vigor, which 
 he fought against the king. And when Mithridates had es- 
 caped from that battle, and had fled to the Bosphorus, a place 
 which no army could approach, still, even in the extremity of 
 his fortunes, and as a fugitive, he retained the name of a 
 king. Therefore, Pompeius himself, having taken possession 
 of his kingdom, having driven the enemy away from all his 
 coasts, and from all his usual places of resort, still thought 
 that so much depended on his single life, that though, by his 
 victory, he had got possession of every thing which he had 
 possessed, or had approached, or even had hoped for, still he 
 did not think the war entirely over till he drove him from life 
 also. And do you, O Cato, think lightly of this man as an 
 enemy, when so many generals warred against him for so 
 many years, with so long a series of battles'? when, though 
 driven out and expelled from his kingdom, his life was still 
 thought of such importance, that it was not till the news 
 arrived of his death, that we thought the war over 1 We then 
 say in defense of Lucius Murena, that as a lieutenant in this 
 war he approved himself a man of the greatest courage, of 
 singular military skill, and of the greatest perseverance ; and 
 that all his conduct at that time gave him no less a title 
 to obtain the consulship than this forensic industry of ours 
 gave us. 
 
 XVII. "But in the standing for the praetorship, Servius 
 was elected first." Are you going (as if you were arguing on 
 some written bond) to contend with the people that, whatever 
 place of honor they have once given any one, that same rank 
 they are bound to give him in all other honors'? For what 
 sea, what Euripus do you think exists, which is liable to such 
 commotions* — to such great and various agitations of waves, 
 as the storms and tides by which the comitia are influenced? 
 The interval of one day — the lapse of one night — often 
 throws every thing into confusion. The slightest breeze of 
 rumor sometimes changes the entire opinions of people. Oft- 
 en, even, every thing is done without any apparent cause, in 
 a manner entirely at variance with the opinions that have 
 been expressed, or that, indeed, are really entertained ; so that 
 sometimes the people marvels that that has been done which 
 has been done, as if it were not itself that has done it. No- 
 thing is more uncertain than the common people — nothing 
 more obscure than men's wishes — nothing more treacherous 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 71 x 
 
 than the whole nature of the cemitia. Who expected that 
 Lucius Philippus, a man of the greatest abilities, and indus- 
 try, and popularity, and nobleness of birth, could be beaten 
 by Marcus Herennius? Who dreamed of Quintus Catulus, a 
 man eminent for all the politer virtues, for wisdom and for in- 
 tegrity, being beaten by Cnaeus Mallius 1 or Marcus Scaurus, 
 a man of the highest character, an illustrious citizen, a most 
 intrepid senator, by Quintus Maximus ! Not only none of all 
 these things were expected to happen, but not even when they 
 had happened could any one possibly make out why they had 
 happened. For as storms arise, often being heralded by some 
 well-known token in the heavens, but often also quite unex- 
 pectedly from no imaginable reason, but from some unintelli- 
 gible cause ; so in the popular tempests of the comitia you 
 may often understand by what signs a storm was first raised, 
 but often, too, the cause is so obscure, that the tempest ap- 
 pears to have been raised by chance. 
 
 XVni. But yet, if an account of them must be given, two 
 qualities were particularly missed in the praetorship, the exist- 
 ence of which in Murena now was of the greatest use to him 
 in standing for the consulship : one was the expectation of a 
 largess, which had got abroad through some rumor, and owing 
 to the zeal and conversation of some of his competitors ; the 
 other, that those men who had been witnesses of all his liber- 
 ality and virtue in the province and in the discharge of his 
 office as lieutenant, had not yet left Rome. Fortune reserved 
 each of these advantages for him, to aid him in his application 
 for the consulship. For the army of Lucius Lucullus, which 
 had come hither for his triumph, was also present at the 
 comitia in aid of Lucius Murena, and his praetorship afforded 
 a most splendid proof of his liberality, of which there was 
 no mention when he was standing for the praetorship. Do 
 these things appear to you trifling supports and aids toward 
 obtaining the consulship? Is the good-will of the soldiery 
 a trifle? who are both intrinsically powerful through their 
 own numbers, and also by their influence among their con- 
 nections, and who in declaring a consul have great weight 
 among the entire Roman people. Are the votes of the army 
 a trifle? No; for it is generals, and not interpreters of 
 words, who are elected at the consular comitia. Most in- 
 fluential, then, is such a speech as this — " He refreshed me 
 when I was wounded. He gave me a share of the plunder. 
 
72 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 He was the general when we "took that camp — when we fought 
 that battle. He never imposed harder work on the soldier than 
 he underwent himself. He was as fortunate as he is brave." 
 What weight do you not suppose this must have to gaining a 
 reputation and good-will among men % Indeed, if there is a 
 sort of superstition in the comitia, that up to this time the 
 omen to be drawn from the vote of the prerogative 1 tribe has 
 always proved true, what wonder is there that in such a meet- 
 ing the reputation of good fortune and such discourse as this 
 has had the greatest weight ? 
 
 XIX. But if you think these things trifling, though they are 
 most important ; and if you prefer the votes of these quiet cit- 
 izens to those of the soldiers ; at all events, you can not think 
 lightly of the beauty of the games exhibited by this man, and 
 the magnificence of his theatrical spectacles ; and these things 
 were of great use to him in this last contest. For why need 
 I tell you that the people and the great mass of ignorant men 
 are exceedingly taken with games % It is not very strange. 
 And that is a sufficient reason in this case ; for the comitia 
 are the comitia of the people and the multitude. If, then, 
 the magnificence of games is a pleasure to the people, it is 
 no wonder that it was of great service to Lucius Murena 
 with the people. But if we ourselves, who, from our con- 
 stant business, have but little time for amusement, and who 
 are able to derive many pleasures of another sort from our 
 business itself, are still pleased and interested by exhibitions 
 of games, why should you marvel at the ignorant multi- 
 tude being so? Lucius Otho, 2 a brave man, and an inti- 
 mate friend of mine, restored not only its dignity, but also 
 its pleasure to the equestrian order ; and, therefore, this law 
 which relates to the games is the most acceptable of all laws, 
 because by it that most honorable order of men is restored 
 not only to its honors, but also to the enjoyment of its amuse- 
 ments. Games, then, believe me, are a great delight to men, 
 even to those who are ashamed to own it, and not to those 
 
 1 In the comitia centuriata the people voted in their centuries ; the or- 
 der in which the centuries voted was decided by lot, and that which gave 
 its vote first was called the ccnturia prarogativa. The question of a tn- 
 bus prarogativa is a more disputed point ; but on this see Smith, Diet. 
 Ant. p. 997, v. Tribus (Roman). 
 
 2 This refers to the law of Lucius Roscius Otho (called Roscia Lex by 
 Horace), by which the fourteen rows of seats next to those of the sena- 
 4*,rs were reserved for the knights. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 
 
 only who confess it, as I found to be the case in my contest 
 for the consulship ; for we also had a theatrical representa- 
 tion as our competitor. But if I, who, as aedile, had exhibited 
 those shows of games, was yet influenced by the games exhib- 
 ited by Antonius, do you not suppose that that very silver 
 stage exhibited by this man, which you laugh at, was a seri- 
 ous rival to you, who, as it happened, had never given any 
 games at all? But, in truth, let us allow that these advant- 
 ages are all equal — let exertions displayed in the forum be al- 
 lowed to be equal to military achievements — let the votes of 
 the quiet citizens be granted to be of equal weight with those 
 of the soldiers — let it be of equal assistance to a man to have 
 exhibited the most magnificent games, and never to have ex- 
 hibited any at all ; what then % Do you think that in the 
 prsetorship itself there was no difference between your lot and 
 that of my client Murena ? 
 
 XX. His department was that which we and all your friends 
 desired for you ; that, namely, of deciding the law ; a business 
 in which the importance of the business transacted procures 
 great credit for a man, and the administration of justice earns 
 him popularity ; for which department a wise praetor, such as 
 Murena was, avoids giving offense by impartiality in his de- 
 cisions, and conciliates good will by his good temper in hear- 
 ing the cases brought before him. It is a very creditable em- 
 ployment, and very well adapted to gain a man the consul- 
 ship, being one in which the praise of justice, integrity and 
 affability is crowned at the last by the pleasure of the games 
 which he exhibits. What department was it that your lot 
 gave you 1 A disagreeable and odious one. That of inquiry 
 mto peculation, pregnant on the one side with the tears and 
 mourning apparel of -the accused, full on the other side of im- 
 prisonment and informers. In that department of justice 
 judges are forced to act against their will, are retained by 
 force contrary to their inclination. The clerk is hated, the 
 whole body is unpopular. The gratifications given by Sylla 
 are found fault with. Many brave men — indeed, a consider- 
 able portion of the city is offended; damages are assigned 
 with severity. The man who is pleased with the decision 
 soon forgets it; he who loses his cause is sure to remember 
 it. Lastly, you would not go to your province. I can not 
 find fault with that resolution in you, which, both as praetor 
 and consul, I have adopted in my own case. But still Lucius 
 
 D 
 
74 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Murena's conduct in his province procured him the affection 
 of many influential men, and a great accession of reputation. 
 On his road he held a levy of troops in Uinbria. The re- 
 public enabled him to display his liberality, which he did so 
 effectually as to engage in his interest many tribes which are 
 connected with the municipalities of that district. And in 
 Gaul itself, he contrived by his equity and diligence to enable 
 many of our citizens to recover debts which they had entirely 
 despaired of. In the mean time you were living at Eome, 
 ready to help your friends. I confess that — but still recol- 
 lect this, that the inclinations of some friends arc often 
 cooled toward those men by whom they see that provinces 
 are despised. 
 
 XXI. And since I have proved, O judges, that in this con- 
 test for the consulship Murena had the same claims of worth 
 that Sulpicius had, accompanied with a very different fortune 
 as respects the business of their respective provinces, I will 
 say more plainly in what particular my friend Servius was 
 inferior ; and I will say those things while you are now hear- 
 ino; me — now that the time of the elections is over — which I 
 have often said to him by himself before the affair was settled. 
 I often told you, O Servius, that you did not know how to 
 stand for the consulship ; and, in respect to those very mat- 
 ters which I saw you conducting and advocating in a brave 
 and magnanimous spirit, I often said to you that you appear- 
 ed to me to be a brave senator rather than a wise candidate. 
 For, in the first place, the terrors and threats of accusations 
 which you were in the habit of employing every day, are 
 rather the part of a fearless man ; but they have an unfavor- 
 able effect on the opinion of the people as regards a man's 
 hopes of getting any thing from them, and they even disarm 
 the zeal of his friends. Somehow or other, this is always the 
 case ; and it has been noticed, not in one or two instances 
 only, but in many ; so that the moment a candidate is seen to 
 turn his attention to provocations, he is supposed to have given 
 up all hopes of his election. 
 
 What, then, am I saying"? Do I mean that a man is not 
 to prosecute another for any injury which he may have re- 
 <<ived? Certainly I mean nothing of the sort. But the times 
 for prosecuting and for standing for the consulship arc differ- 
 ent. I consider that a candidate for any office, especially for 
 the consulship, ought to come down into the forum and into 
 
FOR L. MUREXA. 75 
 
 the Campus Martius with great hopes, with great courage, and 
 with great resources. But I do not like a candidate to be 
 looking about for evidence — conduct which is a sure fore- 
 runner of a repulse. I do not like his being anxious to 
 marshal witnesses rather than voters. I do not fancy threats 
 instead of caresses — declamation Avhere there should be salu- 
 tation ; especially as, according to the new fashion now 
 existing, all candidates visit the houses of nearly all the 
 citizens, and from their countenances men form their conjec- 
 tures as to what spirits and what probabilities of success each 
 candidate has. " Do you see how gloomy that man looks ? 
 how dejected ? He is out of spirits ; he thinks he has no 
 chance; he has laid down his arms." Then a report gets 
 abroad, " Do you know that he is thinking of a prosecution I 
 He is seeking for evidence against his competitors ; he is hunt- 
 ing for witnesses. I shall vote for some one else, as he knows 
 that he has no chance." The most intimate friends of such 
 candidates as that are dispirited and disarmed, they abandon 
 all anxiety in the matter — they give up a business which is so 
 manifestly hopeless, or else they reserve all their labor and in** 
 fluence to countenance their friend in the trial and prosecution 
 which he is meditating. 
 
 XXn. And, besides all this, the candidate himself can not 
 devote his whole thoughts, and care, and attention, and dili- 
 gence to his own election ; for he has also in his mind the 
 thoughts of his prosecution — a matter of no small importance, 
 but in truth of the very greatest. For it is a very serious 
 business to be preparing measures by which to deprive a man, 
 especially one who is not powerless or without resources, of 
 his rights as a citizen ; one who is defended both by himself 
 and by his friend — ay, and perhaps also by strangers. For 
 we all of us naturally hasten to save any one from danger ; 
 and, if we are not notoriously enemies to them, we tender, 
 even to utter strangers, when menaced by danger affect- 
 ing their station as citizens, the services and zeal which 
 are strictly speaking due only to the causes of our friends. 
 On which account I, who know by experience the troubles 
 attending on standing for office, on defending and accusing 
 prisoners, consider that the truth in respect of each business 
 stands thus — that in standing for an office, eagerness is the 
 <-] ef thing; in defending a man, a regard for one's duty is 
 t principal thing shown ; in accusing a man, the labor is 
 
 
7(3 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 greatest. And therefore I say decidedly that it is quite im- 
 possible for the same man to do justice properly to the part 
 of an accuser and a candidate for the consulship. Few can 
 play either part well ; no one can do justice to both. Did 
 you, when you turned aside out of the course prescribed for 
 you as a candidate, and when you had transferred your atten- 
 tion to the task of prosecuting, think that you could fulfill 
 all the requirements of both ? You were greatly mistaken if 
 you did ; for what day was there after you once entered on 
 that prosecution, that you did not devote the whole of it to 
 that occupation? 
 
 XXIII. You demanded a law about bribery, though there 
 was no deficiency of laws on that matter, for there was the 
 Calpurnian law, framed with the greatest severity. Your 
 inclinations and your wish procured compliance with your 
 demand ; but the whole of that law might perhaps have armed 
 your accusation, if you had had a guilty defendant to prose- 
 cute ; but it has been of great injury to you as a candidate. 
 A more severe punishment for the common people was de- 
 manded by your voice. The minds of the lower orders were 
 agitated. The punishment of an exile was demanded in the 
 case of any one of our order being convicted. The senate 
 granted it to your request ; but still it was with no good will 
 that they established a more severe condition for our common 
 fortunes at your instigation. Punishment was imposed on 
 any one who made the excuse of illness. The inclinations of 
 many men were alienated by this step, as by it they were 
 forced either to labor to the prejudice of their health, or else 
 through the distress of illness they were compelled to abandon 
 the other enjoyments of life. What, then, are we to say of 
 this? Who passed this law? He who, in so doing, acted in 
 obedience to the senate, and to your wish. Ho. in short, 
 passed it to whom it was not of the slightest r dvant- 
 
 age. Do you think that those proposals which 
 most willing consent, the senate rejected in a very full lipase, 
 were but a slight hinderance to you? You demanded th 
 fusion of the votes of all the centuries, the e . 
 Manilian law, 1 the equalization of all interest, aid dignitj . and 
 
 1 This was not the Manilian law, in support of which Ci 
 confer the command in Asia on Pompeius ; hut a law ena the 
 
 votes should be counted without any regard to the < 
 tho.v were given ; but this law was repealed soon after its en & 
 
FOR L. MUKENA. 77 
 
 of all the suffrages* Honorable men, men of influence in 
 their neighborhoods and municipalities, were indignant that 
 such a man should contend for the abolition of all degrees in 
 dignity and popularity. You also wished to have judges se- 
 lected by the accuser at his pleasure, the effect of which would 
 have been, that the secret dislikes of the citizens, which are at 
 present confined to silent grumblings, would have broken out 
 in attacks on the fortunes of every eminent man.L, 
 
 All these measures were strengthening your hands as a 
 prosecutor, but weakening your chance as a candidate. And 
 by them all a violent blow was struck at your hopes of suc- 
 cess, as I warned you ; and many very severe things were said 
 about it by that most able and most eloquent man, Hortensius, 
 owing to which my task of speaking now is the more difficult ; 
 as, after both he had spoken before me, and also Marcus Cras- 
 sus, a man of the greatest dignity, and industry, and skill as 
 an orator, I, coming in at the end, was not to plead some part 
 of the cause, but to say with respect to the whole matter what- 
 ever I thought advisable. Therefore I am forced to recur to 
 the same ideas, and to a great extent, O judges, I have to con- 
 tend with a feeling of satiety on your part. 
 
 XXIV. But still, O Servius, do you not see that you com- 
 pletely lay the ax to the root of your chance as a candidate, 
 when you give the Roman people cause for apprehension that 
 Catiline might be made consul through vour neglect, and, I 
 may almost say, abandonment of your canvass, while you 
 were intent on your prosecution? In truth, men saw that 
 you were hunting about for evidence ; that you yourself 
 looked gloomy, your friends out of spirits ; they noticed 
 your visits, your inquiries after proofs, your privy meetings 
 with your witnesses, your conferences with your junior coun- 
 sel ; all which matters are certainly apt to make the counte- 
 nance of a candidate look darker. Meantime they saw Catiline 
 cheerful and joyous, accompanied by a band of youths, with 
 a body-guard of informers and assassins, elated by the hopes 
 which he placed in the soldiers, and, as he himself said, by 
 the promises of my colleagues ; surrounded, too, with a nu- 
 merous body of colonists from Arretium and Fa^sulae — a crowd 
 made conspicuous by the presence of men of a very different 
 sort in it, men who had been ruined by the disasters in the 
 time of Sylla. His own countenance was full of fury ; his 
 eyes glared with wickedness ; his discourse breathed nothing 
 
78 CICERO S ORATIONS. 
 
 but arrogance. You might have thought that he had assured 
 himself of the consulship, and that he had got it locked up 
 at home. Murena he despised. Sulpicius he considered as 
 his prosecutor, not as a competitor. He threatened him with 
 violence ; he threatened the republic. 
 
 XXV. And I need not remind you with what terror all 
 good men were seized in consequence of these occurrences, 
 and how entirely they would all have despaired of the re- 
 public if he had been made consul. All this you yourselves 
 recollect ; for you remember, when the expressions of that 
 wicked gladiator got abroad, which he was said to have used 
 at a meeting at his own house, when he said that it was im- 
 possible for any faithful defender of the miserable citizens to 
 be found, except a man who was himself miserable ; that men 
 in an embarrassed and desperate condition ought not to trust 
 the promises of men of a flourishing and fortunate estate ; 
 and therefore that those who were desirous to replace what 
 they had spent, and to recover what they had lost, had better 
 consider what he himself owed, what he possessed, and what 
 he would dare to do ; that that man ought to be very fearless 
 and thoroughly overwhelmed by misfortune, who was to be 
 the leader and standard-bearer of unfortunate men. Then, 
 therefore, when these things had been heard, you recollect that 
 a resolution of the senate was passed, on my motion, that the 
 comitia should not be held the next day, in order that we 
 might be able to discuss these matters in the senate. Accord- 
 ingly, the next day, in a full meeting of the senate, I addressed 
 Catiline himself, and desired him, if he could, to give some 
 ^explanation of these reports which had been brought to me. 
 And he — for he was not much addicted to disguising his in- 
 tentions — did not attempt to clear himself, but openly avowed 
 and adopted the statements. For he said then, that there 
 were two bodies of the republic — the one weak with a weak 
 head, the other powerful without a head — and that, as this 
 last had deserved well of him, it should never waul a head as 
 long as he lived. The whole senate groaned at bearing itself 
 addressed in such language, and passed a resolution not severe 
 enough for such unworthy conduct ; for some of them were 
 against too rigorous a resolution, because they bad no tear ; 
 and some, because they had a great deal. Then he rushed 
 forth from the senate, triumphing and exulting — a man who 
 never ought to have been allowed to leave it alive, especially 
 
FOR L. MUREXA. 79 
 
 as that very same man in the same place had made answer to 
 Cato, that gallant man who was threatening him with a pros- 
 ecution, a few days before, that if any fire were kindled against 
 his own fortunes, he would put it out, not with water, but by 
 the general ruin. 
 
 XXVI. Being influenced then by these facts, and knowing 
 that men who were already associated in a conspiracy were 
 being brought down by Catiline into the Campus Martius, 
 armed with swords, I myself descended into the campus with 
 a guard of brave men, and with that broad and shining breast- 
 plate, not in order to protect me (for I knew that Catiline 
 would aim at my head and neck, not at my chest or body), 
 but in order that all good men might observe it, and, when 
 they saw their consul in fear and in danger, might, as they 
 did, throng together for my assistance and protection. There- 
 fore, as, O Servius, men thought you very remiss in prose- 
 cuting the contest, and saw Catiline inflamed with "hope and 
 desire, all who wished to repel that pest from the republic 
 immediately joined the party of Murena. And in the con- 
 sular comitia the sudden inclination of men's feelings is often 
 of great weight, especially as, in this case, it took the direction 
 of a very gallant man, who was assisted by many other con- 
 current aids in his application for the office. He was born of 
 a most honorable father and ancestors ; he had passed his 
 youth in a most modest manner ; he had discharged the office 
 of a lieutenant with great credit ; he had been praetor, as suet 
 he had been approved as a judge ; he had been popular through 
 his liberality ; he had been highly honored in his province ; he 
 had been very diligent in his canvass, and had carried it on so 
 as neither to give way if any one threatened him, nor to threat- 
 en any one himself. Can we wonder that the sudden hope 
 which Catiline now entertained of obtaining the consulship was 
 a great assistance to this man ! 
 
 The third topic which I have got to speak about refers to 
 the charge of bribery ; which has been already entirely re- 
 futed by those who have spoken before me, but which must 
 still be discussed by me, since such is the will of Murena. 
 And while speaking on this point, I will reply to what Pos- 
 tumius, my own intimate friend, a most accomplished man, 
 has said about the trials of agents, and about sums of money 
 which he asserts have been found ; and to what Servius Sul- 
 picius. that able and virtuous young man, has said about the 
 
80 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 centuries of the knights ; and to what Marcus Cato, a man 
 eminent in every kind of virtue, has said about his own accu- 
 sation, about the resolution of the senate, and about the repub- 
 lic in general. 
 
 XXVII. But first of all I will say a little, which has just 
 occurred to me, about the hard fortune of Lucius Murena. 
 For I have often before now, O judges, judging both by the 
 miseries of others, and by my own daily cares and labors, con- 
 sidered those men fortunate, who, being at a distance from the 
 pursuits of ambition, have addicted themselves to ease and 
 tranquillity of life ; and now especially I am so affected by 
 these serious and unexpected dangers of Lucius Murena, that 
 I am unable adequately to express my pity for the common 
 condition of all of us, or for his particular state and fortune ; 
 who while, after an uninterrupted series of honors attained by 
 his family and his ancestors, he was endeavoring to mount one 
 step higher in dignity, has incurred the danger of losing both 
 the honors bequeathed to him by his forefathers, and those too 
 which have been acquitted by himself, and now, on account 
 of his pursuit of this new honor, is brought into the danger of 
 losing his ancient fortune also. And as these are weighty 
 considerations, O judges, so is this the most serious matter of 
 all, that he has men for accusers who, instead of proceeding 
 to accuse him on account of their private enmity against him, 
 have become his personal enemies, being carried away by 
 their zeal for their accusation. For, to say nothing of Servi- 
 us Sulpicius, who, I am aware, is influenced not by any wrong 
 done by Lucius Murena, but only by the party spirit engen- 
 dered by the contest for honor, his father's friend, Cmeus Pos- 
 tumius, is his accuser, an old neighbor and intimate friend 
 of his own, as he says himself; who has mentioned many rea- 
 sons for his intimacy with him, while he has not been able to 
 mention one for any enmity toward him. Servius Sulpicius 
 accuses him, the companion of his son — he, by whose genius 
 all the friends of his father ought to be only the more defend- 
 ed. Marcus Cato accuses him, who, though he has never been 
 in any matter whatever at variance with Murena, yet was born 
 in this city under such circumstances that his power and gen- 
 ius ought to be a protection to many who w< re even entire 
 strangers to him, and ought to be the ruin of hardly any per- 
 sonal enemy. 
 
 In the first instance then I will reply to CWus Postumius, 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 81 
 
 who, somehow or other, I know not how, while a candidate 
 for the praetorship, appears to me to be a straggler into the 
 course marked out for the candidates for the consulship, as the 
 horse of a vaulter might escape into the course marked out 
 for the chariot races. And if there is no fault whatever to be 
 found with his competitors, then he has made a great conces- 
 sion to their worth in desisting from his canvass. But if any 
 one of them has committed bribery, then he must look for some 
 friend who will be more inclined to prosecute an injury done 
 
 to another than one done to himself. 
 
 ******* 
 
 XXVIIL I come now to Marcus Cato, who is the main- 
 stay and prop of the whole prosecution ; who is, however, so 
 zealous and vehement a prosecutor, that I am much more 
 afraid of the weight of his name, than of his accusation. And 
 with respect to this accuser, O judges, first of all I will entreat 
 you not to let Cato's dignity, nor your expectation of his 
 tribuneship, nor the high reputation and virtue of his whole 
 life, be any injury to Lucius Murena. Let not all the honors 
 of Marcus Cato, which he has acquired in order to be able to 
 assist many men, be an injury to my client alone. Publius 
 Africanus had been twice consul, and had destroyed those two 
 terrors of this empire, Carthage and Numantia, when he pros- 
 ecuted Lucius Cotta. He was a man of the most splendid 
 eloquence, of the greatest good faith, of the purest integrity, 
 his authority was as great almost as that of the Roman peo- 
 ple itself, in that empire which had been mainly saved by 
 his means. I have often heard old men say that this very 
 extraordinarily high character of the accuser was of the 
 greatest service to Lucius Cotta. Those wise men who then 
 were the judges in that cause, did not like any one to be de- 
 feated in any trial, if he was to appear overwhelmed only by 
 the excessive influence of his adversary. What more shall I 
 say ? Did not the Roman people deliver Sergius Galba (the 
 fact is preserved in the recollection of every one) from your 
 grandfather, that most intrepid and prosperous man, Marcus 
 Cato, who was zealously seeking his ruin ? At all times in 
 this city the whole people, and also the judges, wise men, 
 looking far into futurity, have resisted the overweening pow- 
 er of prosecutors. I do not like an accuser bringing his 
 personal power, or any predominant influence, or his own 
 eminent authority, or his own excessive popularity, into a 
 
 D 2 
 
 v 
 
82 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 court of justice. Let all these things have weight to insure 
 the safety of the innocent, to aid the weak, to succor the un- 
 fortunate. But in a case where the danger and ruin of citi- 
 zens may ensue, let them be rejected. For if perchance any 
 one should say that Cato would not have come forward as an 
 accuser if he had not previously made up his mind about the 
 justice of the cause, he will then be laying down a most unjust 
 law, O judges, and establishing a miserable condition for men 
 in their danger, if he thinks that the opinion of an accuser is 
 to have against a defendant the weight of a previous investiga- 
 tion legally conducted. 
 
 XXIX. I, O Cato, do not venture to find fault with your 
 intentions, by reason of my extraordinarily high opinion of 
 your virtue ; but in some particulars I may perhaps be able 
 slightly to amend and reform them. " You are not very 
 wrong," said an aged tutor to a very brave man ; " but if you 
 are wrong, I can set you right." But I can say with the 
 greatest truth that you never do wrong, and that your conduct 
 is never such in any point as to need correction, but only such 
 as occasionally to require being guided a little. For nature 
 has herself formed you for honest} r , and gravity, and modera- 
 tion, and magnanimity, and justice ; and for all the virtues 
 required to make a great and noble man. To all these qual- 
 ities are added an education not moderate, nor mild, but, as it 
 seems to me, a little harsh and severe, more so than either 
 truth or nature would permit. And since we are not to ad- 
 dress this speech either to an ignorant multitude, or to any 
 assembly of rustics, I will speak a little boldly about the pur- 
 suits of educated men, which are both well known and agree- 
 able to you, O judges, and to me. Learn then, O judges, that 
 all these good qualities, divine and splendid as they are, which 
 we behold in Marcus Cato, are his own peculiar attributes. 
 The qualities which we sometimes wish for in him, are not 
 all those which are implanted in a man by nature, but some 
 of them are such as are derived from education. For there 
 was once a man of the greatest genius, whose name was Zeno, 
 the imitators of whose example are called Stoics. His opin- 
 ions and precepts are of this sort: that a wise man is never 
 influenced by interest ; never pardons any man's fault; that 
 no one is merciful except a fool and a trifler ; that it is not 
 the part of a man to be moved or pacified by entreaties ; that 
 wise men, let them be ever so deformed, are the only beautiful 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 83 
 
 men ; if they be ever such beggars, they are the only rich 
 men ; if they be in slavery, they are kings. And as for all 
 of us who are not wise men, they call us runaway slaves, ex- 
 iles, enemies, lunatics. They say that all offenses are equal ; 
 that every sin is an unpardonable crime ; and that he does not 
 commit a less crime who kills a cock, if there was no need to 
 do so, than the man who strangles his father. They say that 
 a wise man never feels uncertain on any point, never repents 
 of any thing, is never deceived in any thing, and never alters 
 his opinion. 
 
 XXX. All these opinions that most acute man, Marcus 
 Cato, having been induced by learned advocates of them, has 
 embraced ; and that, not for the sake of arguing about them, 
 as is the case with most men, but of living by them. Do 
 the Publicans ask for any thing 1 " Take care that their in- 
 fluence has no weight." Do any suppliants, miserable and 
 unhappy men, come to us? "You will be a wicked and in- 
 famous man if you do any thing from being influenced by 
 mercy." Does any one confess that he has done wrong, and 
 beg pardon for his wrong doing f " To pardon is a crime of 
 the deepest dye." " But it is a trifling offense." " All offenses 
 are equal." You say something. "That is a fixed and unal- 
 terable principle." " You are influenced not by the facts, but 
 by your opinion." " A wise man never forms mere opinions." 
 " You have made a mistake in some point." He thinks that 
 you are abusing him. And in accordance with these prin- 
 ciples of his are the following assertions: "I said in the 
 senate, that I would prosecute one of the candidates for the 
 consulship." " You said that when you were angry." " A wise 
 man never is angry." " But you said it for some temporary 
 purpose." " It is the act," says he, " of a worthless man to 
 deceive by a lie ; it is a disgraceful act to alter one's opinion ; 
 to be moved by entreaties is wickedness ; to pity any one is an 
 enormity." But our philosophers (for I confess, O Cato, that 
 I too, in my youth, distrusting my own abilities, sought 
 assistance from learning), our philosophers, I say, men of the 
 school of Plato and Aristotle, men of soberness and modera- 
 tion, say that private interest does sometimes have weight 
 even with a wise man. They say that it does become a virtuous 
 man to feel pity; that there are different gradations of offenses, 
 and different degrees of punishment appropriate to each; 
 that a man with every proper regard for firmness may pardon 
 
84 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 offenses ; that even the wise man himself has sometimes nothing 
 more than opinion to go upon, without absolute certainty ; that 
 he is sometimes angry ; that he is sometimes influenced and 
 pacified by entreaty ; that he sometimes does change an opin- 
 ion which he may have expressed, when it is better to do so; 
 that he sometimes abandons his previous opinions altogether ; 
 and that all his virtues are tempered by a certain moderation. 
 XXXI. If any chance, O Cato, had conducted, endowed 
 with your existing natural disposition, to those tutors, you 
 would not indeed have been a better man than you are, nor a 
 braver one, nor more temperate, nor more just than you are 
 (for that is not possible), but you would have been a little more 
 inclined to lenity ; you would not, when you were not induced 
 by any enmity, or provoked by any personal injur}', accuse a 
 most virtuous man, a man of the highest rank and the great- 
 est integrity ; you would consider that as fortune had intrust- 
 ed the guardianship of the same year to you 1 and to Murena, 
 that you were connected with him by some certain political 
 union ; and the severe things which you have said in the sen- 
 ate you would either not have said, or you would have guarded 
 against their being applied to him, or you would have inter- 
 preted them in the mildest sense. And even you yourself (at 
 least that is my opinion and expectation), excited as you are 
 at present by the impetuosity of your disposition, and elated 
 as you are both by the vigor of your natural character and by 
 your confidence in your own ability, and inflamed as you are 
 by your recent study of all these precepts, will find jiractice 
 modify them, and time and increasing years soften and hu- 
 manize you. In truth, those tutors and teachers of virtue, 
 whom you think so much of, appear to me themselves to have 
 carried their definitions of duties somewhat further than is 
 agreeable to nature ; and it would be better if, when we had 
 in theory pushed our principles to extremities, yet in practice 
 we stopped at what was expedient. " Forgive nothing." Say 
 rather, forgive some things, but not every thing. " Do nothing 
 for the sake of private influence." Certainly resist private in- 
 fluence when virtue and good faith require you to do so. " Do 
 not be moved by pity." Certainly if it is to extinguish all im- 
 partiality; nevertheless, there is some credit due to humanity. 
 " Abide by your own opinion." Wry true, unless some other 
 sounder opinion convinces you. That great Scipio was a mac 
 
 1 Cato was tribune elect. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 85 
 
 of this sort, who had no objection to do the same thing that 
 you do ; to keep a most learned man, a man of almost divine 
 wisdom, in his house ; by whose conversation and precepts, 
 although they were the very same that you are so fond of, he 
 was nevertheless not made more severe, but (as I have heard 
 said by old men) he was rendered most merciful. And who 
 was more mild in his manners than Caius Laslius? who was 
 more agreeable than he 1 (devoted to the same studies as you) ; 
 who was more virtuous or more wise than he*? I might say the 
 same of Lucius Philus, and of Caius Gallus ; but I will conduct 
 you now into your own house. Do you think that there was 
 any man more courteous, more agreeable ; any one whose con- 
 duct was more completely regulated by every principle of virtue 
 and politeness, than Cato, your great-grandfather'? And when 
 you were speaking with truth and dignity of his virtue, you 
 said that you had a domestic example to imitate. That indeed 
 is an example set up for your imitation in your own family ; 
 and the similarity of nature ought rather to influence you who 
 are descended from him than any one of us ; but still that ex- 
 ample is as much an object for my imitation as for yours. But 
 if you were to add his courtesy and affability to your own wis- 
 dom and impartiality, I will not say that those qualities whkh 
 are now most excellent will be made intrinsically better, but 
 they will certainly be more agreeably seasoned. 
 
 XXXII. Wherefore, to return to the subject which I began 
 to speak of, take away the name of Cato out of the cause ; 
 remove and leave out of the question all mention of authority, 
 which in courts of justice ought either to have no influence at 
 all, or only influence to contribute to some one's safety ; and 
 discuss with me the charges themselves. What do you accuse 
 him of, Cato ? AVhat action of his is it that you bring before 
 the court 1 What is your charge I Do you accuse him of 
 bribery? I do not defend bribery. You blame me because 
 you say I am defending the very conduct which I brought in a 
 law to punish. I punished bribery, not innocence. And any 
 real case of bribery I will join you in prosecuting if you please. 
 You have said that a resolution of the senate was passed, on 
 my motion, " that if any men who had been bribed had gone 
 to meet the candidates, if any hired men followed them, if 
 places were given men to see the shows cf gladiators according 
 to their tribes, and also, if dinners were given to the common 
 people, that appeared to be a violation of the Calpurnian law." 
 
80 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Therefore the senate decides that these things wefre clone in 
 violation of the Calpurnian law if they were done at all ; it 
 decides what there is not the least occasion for, out of com- 
 plaisance for the candidates. For there is a great question 
 whether such things have been done or not. That, if they have 
 been done, they were done in violation of the law, no one can 
 doubt. It is, therefore, ridiculous to leave that uncertain which 
 was doubtful, but to give a positive decision on that point 
 which can be doubtful to no one. And that decree is passed 
 at the request of all the candidates ; in order that it might be 
 quite impossible to make out from the resolution of the senate 
 whose interests were consulted, or against whose interests it 
 was passed. Prove, then, that these actions have been done 
 by Lucius Murena; and then I will grant to you that they 
 have been done in violation of the law. 
 
 XXXIII. " Many men went to meet nim as he was depart- 
 ing from his province, when he was a candidate for the con- 
 sulship." That is a very usual thing to do. Who is there 
 whom people do not go out to meet on his return home? 
 " What a number of people they were." In the first place, if 
 I am not able to give you any exact account of it, what won- 
 der is it if many men did go out to meet such a man on his 
 arrival, being a candidate for the consulship 1 ? If they had 
 not done so, it would have appeared much more strange. 
 What then ? Suppose I were even to add, what there would 
 be nothing unusual in, that many had been asked to go 1 ? 
 Would that be matter of accusation, or at all strange, that, in 
 a city in which we, when we are asked, often come to escort 
 the sons of even the lowest rank, almost before the night is 
 t>ver, from the farthest part of the city, men should not mind 
 going at the third hour into the Campus Martius, especially 
 when they have been invited in the name of such a man as 
 Murena ? What then ? What if all the societies had come 
 to meet him, of which bodies many are sitting here as judges"? 
 What if many men of our own most honorable order had 
 come? What then? What if the whole of that most oih- 
 cious body of candidates, which will not sutler any man to en- 
 ter the city except in an honorable manner, had come, or even 
 our prosecutor himself — if Postumius had come to meet him 
 with a numerous crowd of his dependents 1 What is there 
 strange in such a multitude ? 1 say nothing of his clients, his 
 neighbors, his tribesmen, or the whole army of Lucullus, which, 
 just at that time, had come to Home to his triumph; I say 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 87 
 
 this, >hat that crowd, paying that gratuitous mark of respect, 
 was never backward in paying respect not only to the merit 
 of any one, but even to his wishes. 
 
 "But a great many people followed him." Prove that it 
 was for hire, and I will admit that that was a crime : but if 
 the fact of hire be absent, what is there that you object to 1 
 
 XXX1Y. "What need is there," says he, "of an escort?" 
 Are you asking me what is the need of that which we have 
 always availed ourselves of? Men of the lower orders have 
 only one opportunity of deserving kindness at the hands of 
 our order, or of requiting services — namely, this one atten- 
 tion of escorting us when we are candidates for offices. For 
 it is neither possible, nor ought we or the Eoman knights to 
 require them to escort the candidates to whom they are 
 attached for whole days together ; but if our house is fre- 
 quented by them, if we are sometimes escorted to the forum, 
 if we are honored by their attendance for the distance of one 
 piazza, we then appear to be treated with all due observance 
 and respect ; and those are the attentions of our poorer friends 
 who are not hindered by business, of whom numbers are not 
 wont to desert virtuous and beneficent men. Do not then, 
 O Cato, deprive the lower class of men of this power of show- 
 ing their dutiful feelings ; allow these men, who hope for 
 every thing from us, to have something also themselves, which 
 they may be able to give us. If they have nothing beyond 
 their own vote, that is but little ; since they have no interest 
 'vhich they can exert in the votes of others. They themselves, 
 as they are accustomed to say, can not plead for us, can not 
 JX,o bail for us, can not invite us to their houses ; but they 
 isk all these things of us, and do not think that they can 
 ^equite the services which they receive from us by any thing 
 but by their attentions of this sort. Therefore they resisted 
 the Fabian law, which regulated the number of an escort, and 
 the resolution of the senate, which was passed in the consul- 
 ship of Lucius Caesar. For there is no punishment which 
 can prevent the regard shown by the poorer classes for this 
 description of attention. " But spectacles were exhibited to 
 the people by their tribes, and crowds of the common peo- 
 ple were invited to dinner." Although this, O judges, was 
 not done by Murena at all, but done in accordance with all 
 usage and precedent by his friends, still, being reminded of 
 the fact, I recollect how many votes these investigations held 
 in the senate have lost us, O Servius. For what time was 
 
88 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 there ever, eitner within our own recollection or that of our 
 fathers, in which this, whether you call it ambition or liberal- 
 ity, did not exist, to the extent of giving a place in the circus 
 and in the forum to one's friends, and to the men of one's own 
 tribe? The men of the poorer classes first, who had not yet 
 obtained from those of their own tribe 
 
 XXXV. * * * that the prelect of the carpenters 1 once 
 gave a place to the men of his own tribe. What will they de- 
 cide with respect to the eminent men who have erected reg- 
 ular stalls in the circus, for the sake of their own tribesmen ? 
 All these charges of escort, of spectacles, of dinners, are 
 brought forward by the multitude, O Servius, as proofs of 
 your over-scrupulous diligence ; but still as to those counts of 
 the indictment, Murena is defended by the authority of the 
 senate. And why not ? Does the senate think it a crime to 
 go to meet a man I No ; but it does, if it be done for a bribe. 
 Prove that it was so. Does the senate think it a crime for 
 many men to follow him ? No ; but it does, if they were 
 hired. Prove it. Or to give a man a place to see the spec- 
 tacles? or to ask a man to dinner? Not by any means; but 
 to give every one a seat, to ask every one one meets to dinner. 
 " What is every one I" Why, the whole body of citizens. If, 
 then, Lucius Natta, a young man of the highest rank, as to 
 whom we see already of what sort of disposition he is, and 
 what sort of man he is likely to turn out, wished to be pop- 
 ular among the centuries of the knights, both because of his 
 natural connection with them, and because of his intentions as 
 to the future, that will not be a crime in, or matter of accusa- 
 tion against his step-father ; nor, if a vestal virgin, my client'* 
 near relation, gave up her place to see the spectacle in his 
 favor, was that any other than a pious action, nor is he liable 
 to any charge on that ground. All these are the kind offices 
 of intimate friends, the services done to the poorer classes, the 
 regular privileges of candidates. 
 
 But I must change my tone ; for Cato argues witli me on 
 
 rigid and stoic principles. He says that it is not true that 
 
 good-will is conciliated by food. He says that men's judg- 
 
 1 Besides the classes into which the centuries were divided, and the 
 four supernumerary centuries of accensi, velati, proletarii, ami cajnte censi, 
 there were three centuries classed according to their occupation. The 
 fabri, or carpenters, who were attached to the centuries of the first class ; 
 the n/rniniics, or horn-blowers, an^- li'icincs, or trumpeters, who were 
 reckoned with the fourth class. 
 

 FOR L. MURENA. 89 
 
 ments, in the important business of electing to magistracies, 
 ought not to be corrupted by pleasures. Therefore, if any one, 
 to promote his canvass, invites another to supper, he must be 
 condemned. " Shall you," says he, " seek to obtain supreme 
 power, supreme authority, and the helm of the republic, by 
 encouraging men's sensual appetites, by soothing their minds, 
 by tendering luxuries to them ? Are you asking employment 
 as a pimp from a band of luxurious youths, or the sovereignty 
 of the world from the Roman people ?" An extraordinary sort 
 of speech ! but our usages, our way of living, our manners, and 
 the constitution itself, rejects it. For the Lacedaemonians, the 
 original authors of that way of living and of that sort of lan- 
 guage, men who lie at their daily meals on hard oak benches, 
 and the Cretans, of whom no one ever lies down to eat at all, 
 have neither of them preserved their political constitutions or 
 their power better than the Romans, who set apart times for 
 pleasure as well as times for labor ; for one of those nations 
 w r as destroyed by a single invasion of our army, the other only 
 preserves its discipline and its laws by means of the protection 
 afforded to it by our supremacy. 
 
 XXXYI. Do not, then, O Cato, blame with too great se- 
 verity of language the principles of our ancestors, which facts, 
 and the length of time that our power has flourished under 
 them, justify. There was, in the time of our ancestors, a 
 learned man of the same sect, an honorable citizen, and one 
 of high rank, Quintus Tubero. He, when Quintus Maximus 
 was giving a feast to the Roman people, in the name of his 
 uncle Africanus, was asked by Maximus to prepare a couch 
 for the banquet, as Tubero was a son of the sister of the same 
 Africanus. And he, a most learned man and a Stoic, covered 
 for that occasion some couches made in the Carthaginian 
 fashion, with skins of kids, and exhibited some Samian 1 ves- 
 sels, as if Diogenes the Cynic had been dead, and not as if he 
 were paying respect to the obsequies of that godlike Afri- 
 canus ; a man with respect to whom Maximus, when he was 
 pronouncing his funeral panegyric on the day of his death, 
 expressed his gratitude to the immortal gods for having 
 caused that man to be born in this republic above all others, 
 for that it was quite inevitable that the sovereignty of the 
 w^orld must belong to that state of which he was a citizen. 
 
 1 Samian vessels were made of an inferior earthen-ware ; Carthaginian 
 couches were very low and narrow. 
 
90 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 At the celebration of the obsequies of such a man the Roman 
 people was very indignant at the perverse wisdom of Tubero, 
 and therefore he, a most upright man, a most virtuous citizen, 
 though he was the grandson of Lucius Paullus, the sister's son, 
 as I have said before, of Publius Africanus, lost the prastorship 
 by his kid-skins. 
 
 The Roman people disapproves of private luxury, but ad- 
 mires public magnificence. It does not love profuse banquets, 
 still less does it love sordid and uncivilized behavior. It 
 makes a proper distinction between different duties and dif- 
 ferent seasons, and allows of vicissitudes of labor and pleas- 
 ure. For as to what you say, that it is not right for men'* 
 minds to be influenced, in appointing magistrates, by any oth- 
 er consideration than that of the worth of the candidates, this 
 principle even you yourself — you, a man of the greatest worth 
 — do not in every case adhere to. For why do you ask any 
 one to take pains for you, to assist you ? You ask me to make 
 you governor over myself, to intrust myself to you. What 
 is the meaning of this °? Ought I to be asked this by you, or 
 should not you rather be asked by me to undertake labor and 
 danger for the sake of my safety ? Nay more, why is it that 
 you have a nomenclator 1 with you ? for in so doing, you are 
 practicing a trick and a deceit. For if it be an honorable 
 thing for your fellow-citizens to be addressed by name by you, 
 it is a shameful thing for them to be better known to your 
 servant than to yourself. If, though you know them your- 
 self, it seems better to use a prompter, why do you sometimes 
 address them before he has whispered their names in your ear ? 
 Why, again, when he has reminded you of them, do you sa- 
 lute them as if you knew them yourself? And why, after 
 you are once elected, are you more careless about saluting 
 them at all 1 If you regulate all these things by the usages 
 of the city, it is all right ; but if you choose to weigh them 
 by the precepts of your sect, they will be found to be entirely 
 wrong. Those enjoyments, then, of games, and gladiators, and 
 banquets, all which our ancestors desired, are not to be taken 
 away from the Roman people, nor ought candidates to be for- 
 bidden the exercise of that kindness which is liberality rather 
 than bribery. 
 
 1 The nomenclator was a slave who accompanied the candidate in going 
 his rounds, and told him the name of every one he met, so that ho might 
 be able to accost them as if they were personally known to himself. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 91 
 
 XXXYTL Oh, but it is the interest of the republic that has 
 induced you to become a prosecutor. I do believe, O Cato, 
 that jou have come forward under the influence of those feel- 
 ings and of that opinion. But you err out of ignorance. That 
 which I am doing, O judges, I am doing out of regard to my 
 friendship for Lucius Murena and to his own worth, and I 
 also do assert and call you all to witness that I am doing it 
 for the sake of peace, of tranquillity, of concord, of liberty, of 
 safety — ay, even for the sake of the lives of us all. Listen, O 
 judges, listen to the consul — I will not speak with undue ar- 
 rogance, I will only say, who devotes all his thoughts day and 
 night to the republic. Lucius Catiline did not despise and 
 scorn the republic to such a degree as to think that with the 
 forces which he took away with him he could subdue this city. 
 The contagion of that wickedness spreads more widely than 
 any one believes : more men are implicated in it than people 
 are aware of. It is within the city — the Trojan horse, I say, 
 is within the city ; but you shall never be surprised sleeping 
 by that while I am consul. You ask of me why I am afraid 
 of Catiline % I am not ; and I have taken care that no one 
 should have any reason to be afraid of him ; but I do say that 
 those soldiers of his, whom I see present here, are objects of 
 fear : nor is the army which Lucius Catiline now has with 
 him as formidable as those men are who are said to have de- 
 serted that army ; for they have not deserted it, but they have 
 been left by him as spies, as men placed in ambuscade, to 
 threaten our lives and liberties. Those men are very anxious 
 that an upright consul and an able general, a man connected 
 both by nature and by fortune with the safety of the republic, 
 should by your decision be removed from the office of protect- 
 ing the city, from the guardianship of the state. Their swords 
 and their audacity I have procured the rejection of in the 
 campus, I have disarmed them in the forum, I have often 
 checked them at my own house ; but if you now give them up 
 one of the consuls, they will have gained much more by your 
 votes than by their own swords. That which I, in spite of 
 the resistance of many, have managed and carried through, 
 namely, that on the first of January there should be two con- 
 suls in the republic, is of great consequence, O judges. Never 
 believe that by consuls of moderate abilities, or by the ordina- 
 ry modes of proceeding 
 
 ******* 
 
92 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 It is not some unjust law, some mischievous bribery, or some 
 improprieties in the republic that have just been heard of, 
 that are the real objects for your inquiry now. Plans have 
 been formed in this state, O judges, for destroying the city, 
 for massacring the citizens, for extinguishing the Roman name. 
 They are citizens — citizens, I say (if indeed it is lawful to call 
 them by this name), who are forming and have formed these 
 plans respecting their own country. Every day I am counter- 
 acting their designs, disarming their audacity, resisting their 
 wickedness. But I warn you, O judges ; my consulship is now 
 just at an end. Do not refuse me a successor in my diligence ; 
 do not refuse me him, to whom I am anxious to deliver over 
 the republic in a sound condition, that he may defend it from 
 these great dangers. 
 
 XXXVIII. And do you not see, O judges, what other evil 
 there is added to these evils ? I am addressing you — you, O 
 Cato. Do you not foresee a storm in your year of office 1 for 
 in yesterday's assembly there thundered out the mischievous 
 voice of a tribune 1 elect, one of your own colleagues ; against 
 whom your own mind took many precautions, and so too did 
 all good men, when they invited you to stand for the tribune-, 
 ship. Every thing which has been plotted 'for the last three 
 years, from the time when you know that the design of mas- 
 sacring the senate was first formed by Lucius Catiline and 
 by Cnaeus Piso, is now breaking out on these days, in these 
 months, at this time. What place is there, O judges, what 
 time, what day, what night is there, that I have not been de- 
 livered and escaped from their plots and attacks, not only by 
 my own prudence, but much more by the providence of the 
 gods? It was not that they wished to slay me as an indi- 
 vidual, but that they wished to get rid of a vigilant consul, 
 and to remove him from the guardianship of the republic ; and 
 they would be just as glad, O Cato, to remove you too, if they 
 could by any means contrive to do so ; and believe me, that is 
 what they are wishing and planning to do. They see lion- 
 much courage, how much ability, how much authority, how 
 much protection for the republic there is in you ; but they 
 think that, when they have once seen the power of the tribunes 
 stripped of the support which it derives from the authority and 
 
 1 Ho moans Quinlus Metellus Nepos, the same man who afterward 
 prevented his making an address to the people on Ins resigning his con- 
 sulship. 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 93 
 
 assistance of the consuls, they will then find it easier to crush 
 you when you are deprived of your arms and vigor. For they 
 have no fear of another consul being elected in the place of 
 this one ; they see that that will depend upon your colleagues ; 
 they hope that Silanus, an illustrious man, will be exposed to 
 their attacks without any colleague ; and that so will you with- 
 out any consul ; and that so will the republic without any 
 protector. When such are our circumstances, and such our 
 perils, it becomes you, O Marcus Cato, who have been born, 
 not for my good, nor for your own good, but for that of your 
 country, to perceive what are their real objects ; to retain as 
 your assistant, and defender, and partner in the republic, a 
 consul who has no private desires to gratify, a consul (as this 
 season particularly requires) formed by fortune to court ease, 
 but by knowledge to carry on war, and by courage and prac- 
 tice to discharge in a proper manner whatever business you 
 can impose upon him. 
 
 XXXIX. Although the whole power of providing for this 
 rests with you, O judges — you, in this cause, are the masters 
 and directors of the whole republic — if Lucius Catiline, with 
 his council of infamous men whom he took out with him, 
 could give his decision in this case, he would condemn Lucius 
 Murena ; if he could put him to death, he would. For his 
 plans require the republic to be deprived of every sort of aid ; 
 they require the number of generals who may be opposed to 
 his phrensy to be diminished ; they require that greater power 
 should be given to the tribunes of the people, when they have 
 driven away their adversary, to raise sedition and discord. 
 Will, then, thoroughly honorable and wise men, chosen out 
 of the most dignified orders of the state, give the same decis-> 
 ion that most profligate gladiator, the enemy of the republic, 
 ^fculd give ? Believe me, O judges, in this case you are de- 
 M prig not only about the safety of Lucius Murena, but also 
 Won your own. We are in a situation of extreme danger ; there 
 is no means now of repairing the losses which we have al- 
 ready sustained, or of recovering the ground which we have 
 lost. We must take care not only not to diminish the re- 
 sources which we still have, but to provide ourselves with ad- 
 ditional ones if that be possible. For the enemy is not on 
 the Anio, which in the time of the Punic war appeared a 
 most terrible thing, but he is in the city, in the forum (O ye 
 immortal gods ! this can not be said without a groan) ; there 
 
94 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 are even some enemies in this sacred temple of the republic, 
 in the very senate-house itself. May the gods grant that my 
 colleague, that most gallant man, may be able in arms to 
 overtake and crush this impious piratical war of Catiline's. 
 I, in the garb of peace, with you and all virtuous men for 
 my assistants, will endeavor by my prudence to divide and 
 destroy the dangers which the republic is pregnant with and 
 about to bring forth. But still, what Avill be the consequences 
 if these things slip through our hands and remain in vigor 
 till the ensuing year ? There will be but one consul ; and he 
 will have sufficient occupation, not in conducting a war, but 
 in managing the election of a colleague. Those who will 
 hinder him ****** 
 
 That intolerable pest ***** will break forth 
 wherever it can find room; and even now it is threatening 
 the Roman people ; soon it will descend upon the suburban 
 districts ; phrensy will range at large among the camp, fear in 
 the senate-house, conspiracy in the forum, an army in the Cam- 
 pus Martius, and devastation all over the country. In every 
 habitation, and in every place, we shall live in fear of fire and 
 sword. And yet all these evils, which have been so long 
 making ready against us, if the republic is fortified by its 
 natural means of protection, will be easily put down by the 
 counsels of the magistrates and the diligence of private indi- 
 viduals. 
 
 XL. And as this is the case, O judges, in the first place for 
 ihe sake of the republic, than which nothing ought to be of 
 more importance in the eyes of every one, I do warn you, as I 
 am entitled to do by my extreme diligence in the cause of the 
 republic, which is well known to all of you — I do exhort you, 
 as my consular authority gives me a right to do — I do en- 
 treat you, as the magnitude of the danger justifies me in do- 
 ing, to provide for the tranquillity, for the peace, for the safety, 
 for the lives of yourselves and of all the rest of your fellow- 
 citizens. In the next place I do appeal to your good faith, 
 O judges (whether you may think that I do so in the spirit 
 of an advocate or a friend signifies but little), and beg of you 
 not to overwhelm the recent exaltation of Lucius Murena, an 
 unfortunate man, of one oppressed both by bodily disease and 
 by vexation of mind, by a fresh cause for mourning. Ih 1 has 
 been lately distinguished by the greatest kindness of the Ro- 
 man people, and has seemed fortunate in being the first man 
 
FOR L. MURENA. 95 
 
 to bring the honors of the consulship into an old family, and 
 a most ancient municipality. Now, in a mourning and un- 
 becoming garb, debilitated by sickness, worn out with tears 
 and grief, he is a suppliant to you, O judges, invoking your 
 good faith, imploring your pity, fixing all his hopes on your 
 power and your assistance. Do not, in the name of the im- 
 mortal gods, O judges, deprive him not only of that office 
 which he thought conferred additional honor on him, and at 
 the same time of all the honors which he had gained before, 
 and of all his dignity and fortune. And, O judges, what Lu- 
 cius Murena is begging and entreating of you is no more than 
 this ; that if he has done no injury unjustly to any one, if he 
 has offended no man's ears or inclination, if he has never (to 
 say the least) given any one reason to hate him either at home 
 or when engaged in war, he may in that case find among you 
 moderation in judging, and a refuge for men in dejection, and 
 assistance for modest merit. The deprivation of the consul- 
 ship is a measure calculated to excite great feelings of pity, 
 O judges. For with the consulship every thing else is taken 
 away too. And at such times as these the consulship itself 
 is hardly a thing to envy a man. For it is exposed to the 
 harangues of seditious men, to the plots of conspirators, to the 
 attacks of Catiline. It is opposed single-handed to every dan- 
 ger, and to every sort of unpopularity. So that, O judges, I 
 do not see what there is in this beautiful consulship which 
 need be grudged to Murena, or to any other man among us. 
 But those things in it which are calculated to make a man an 
 object of pity, are visible to my eyes, and you too can clearly 
 see and comprehend them. 
 
 XLI. If (may Jupiter avert the omen) you condemn this 
 man by your decision, where is the unhappy man to turn? 
 Home? What, that he may see that image of that most 
 illustrious man his father, which a few days ago he beheld 
 crowned with laurel when men were congratulating him on 
 his election, now in mourning and lamentation at his dis- 
 grace ? Or to his mother, who, wretched woman, having late- 
 ly embraced her son as consul, is now in all the torments of 
 anxiety, lest she should but a short time afterward behold 
 that same son stripped of all his dignity? But why do 1 
 speak of his home or of his mother, when the new punish^, 
 ment of the law deprives him of home, and parent, and of 
 the intercourse with and sight of all his relations ? Shall tho 
 
9G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 wretched man then go into banishment? Whither shall he 
 go? Shall he go to the east, where he was for many years 
 lieutenant, where he commanded armies, and performed many 
 great exploits'? But it is a most painful thing to return to a 
 place in disgrace, from which you have departed in honor. 
 Shall he hide himself in the opposite regions of the earth, so 
 as to let Transalpine Gaul see the same man grieving and 
 mourning, whom it lately saw with the greatest joy, exercis- 
 ing the highest authority ? In that same province, moreover, 
 with what feelings will he behold Caius Murena, his own 
 brother ? What will be the grief of the one, what will be the 
 agony of the other? What will be the lamentations of both ? 
 How great will the vicissitudes of fortune appear, and what a 
 change will there be in every one's conversation, when in the 
 very places in which a few days before messengers and letters 
 had repeated, with every indication of joy, that Murena had 
 been made consul — in the very places from which his own 
 friends and his hereditary connections flocked to Rome for the 
 purpose of congratulating him, he himself arrives on a sudden 
 as the messenger of his own misfortune ! And if these things 
 seem bitter, and miserable, and grievous — if they are most for- 
 eign to your general clemency and merciful disposition, O 
 judges, then maintain the kindness done to him by the Roman 
 people ; restore the consul to the republic ; grant this to his 
 own modesty, grant it to his dead father, grant it to his race 
 and family, grant it also to Lanuvium, that most honorable 
 municipality, the whole population of which you have seen 
 watching this cause with tears and mourning. Do not tear 
 from his ancestral sacrifices to Juno Sospita, to whom all con- 
 suls are bound to offer sacrifice, a consul who is so peculiarly 
 her own. Him, if my recommendation has any weight, if my 
 solemn assertion has any authority, I now recommend to you, 
 O judges — I the consul recommend him to you as consul, 
 promising and undertaking that he will prove most desirous of 
 tranquillity, most anxious to consult the interests of virtuous 
 men, very active against sedition, very brave in war, and an 
 irreconcilable enemy to this conspiracy, which is at this mo- 
 ment seeking to undermine the republic. 
 
FOR P SYLLA. 97 
 
 THE ORATION OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF PUBLIU? 
 
 SYLLA. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Publius Sylla having been elected consul with Publius Autronius four 
 years before, had been impeached for bribery, convicted, and deprived 
 of his consulship. He had then been prosecuted by Torquatus. He 
 was now impeached by the younger Torquatus, the son of his formel 
 prosecutor, as having been implicated in both of Catiline's conspir- 
 acies. (Autronius was accused also, and he also applied to Cicero ta 
 defend him, but Cicero, being convinced that he was guilty, not only 
 refused to defend him, but appeared as a witness against him.) Tor- 
 quatus's real motive appears to have been jealousy of the fame which 
 Cicero had obtained in his consulship ; and, in his speech for the pros' 
 ecution, when he found that Cicero had' undertaken Sylla's cause, he 
 had attacked Cicero himself, and tried to bring him into unpopularity, 
 calling him a king who assumed a power to save or to destroy just as 
 he thought fit ; and saying that he was the third foreign king that ha<7 
 reigned in Rome ; Numa and Tarquin being the two former. Sylla 
 was acquitted. 
 
 I. I should have been very glad, O judges, if Publius SyhV 
 had been able formerly to retain the honor of the dignity to 
 Which he was appointed, and had been allowed, after the mis' 
 ibrtune which befell him, to derive some reward from hi,° 
 .moderation in adversity. But since his unfriendly fortune 
 has brought it about that he has been damaged, even at a 
 time of his greatest honor, by the unpopularity ensuing not 
 only from the common envy which pursues ambitious men. 
 but also by the singular hatred in which Autronius is held, 
 and that even in this sad and deplorable wreck of his former 
 fortunes, he has still some enemies whose hostility he is unable 
 to appease by the punishment which has fallen upon him; 
 although I am very greatly concerned at his distresses, yet in 
 his other misfortunes I can easily endure that an opportunity 
 should be offeied to me of causing virtuous men to recognize 
 my lenity and merciful disposition, which was formerly known 
 to sve^v one. but which has of late been interrupted as it 
 
 E 
 
t)6 CICERCVS ORATIONS. 
 
 were ; and of forcing wicked and profligate citizens, being 
 again defeated and vanquished, to confess that, when the re- 
 public was in danger, I was energetic and fearless ; now that 
 it is saved, I am lenient and merciful. And since Lucius 
 Torquatus, O judges, my own most intimate friend, O judges, 
 has thought that, if he violated our friendship and intimacy 
 somewhat in his speech for the prosecution, he could by that 
 means detract a little from the authority of my defense, I will 
 unite with my endeavors to ward off danger from my client, 
 a defense of my own conduct in the discharge of my duty. 
 Not that I would employ that sort of speech at present, O 
 judges, if my own interest alone were concerned, for on many 
 occasions and in many places I have had, and I often shall 
 have, opportunities of speaking of my own credit. But as he, 
 
 judges, has thought that the more he could take away from 
 my authority, the more also he would be diminishing my 
 client's means of protection ; I also think, that if I can induce 
 you to approve of the principles of my conduct, and my wis- 
 dom in this discharge of my duty and in undertaking this 
 defense, I shall also induce you to look favorably on the 
 cause of Publius Sylla. And in the first place, O Torquatus, 
 
 1 ask you this, why you should separate me from the other 
 illustrious and chief men of this city, in regard to this duty, 
 and to the right of defending clients? For what is the reason 
 why the act of Quintus Hortensius, a most illustrious man 
 and a most accomplished citizen, is not blamed by you, and 
 mine is blamed? For if a design of firing the city, and of 
 extinguishing this empire, and of destroying this city, was 
 entertained by Publius Sylla, ought not such projects to raise 
 greater indignation and greater hatred against their authors 
 in me than in Quintus Hortensius? Ought not my opinion 
 to be more severe in such a matter, as to whom I should 
 think fit to assist in these causes, whom to oppose, whom 
 to defend, and whom to abandon? No doubt, says he, for 
 it was you who investigated, you who laid open the whole 
 conspiracy. 
 
 II. And when he says this, he does not perceive that the 
 man who laid it open took care that all men should see that 
 which had previously been hidden. Wherefore that con- 
 spiracy, if it was laid open by me, is now as evident in all its 
 particulars to Hortensius as it is to me. And when you see 
 that he, a man of such rank, and authority, and virtue, and 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 99 
 
 wisdom, has not hesitated to defend this innocent Publius 
 Sylla, I ask why the access to the cause which was open to 
 Hortensius, ought to be closed against me? I ask this also — 
 if you think that I, who defend him, am to be blamed, what 
 do you think of those excellent men and most illustrious 
 citizens, by whose zeal and dignified presence you perceive 
 that this trial is attended, by whom the cause of my client is 
 honored, by whom his innocence is upheld? For that is 
 not the only method of defending a man's cause which con- 
 sists in speaking for him. All who countenance him with 
 their presence, who show anxiety in his behalf, who desire his 
 safety, all, as far as their opportunities allow or their author- 
 ity extends, are defending him. Ought I to be unwilling to 
 appear on these benches on which I see these lights and orna- 
 ments of the republic, when it is only by my own numerous 
 and great labors and dangers that I have mounted into their 
 rank, and into this lofty position and dignity which I now 
 enjoy? And that you may understand, O Torquatus, whom 
 you are accusing, if you are offended that I, who have defended 
 no one on inquiries of this sort, do not abandon Publius Sylla, 
 remember also the other men, whom you see countenancing 
 this man by their presence. You will see that their opinion 
 and mine has been one and the same about this man's case, 
 and about that of the others. Who of us stood by Yargun- 
 tius? No one. Not even this Quintus Hortensius, the very 
 man who had formerly been Ids only defender when prose- 
 cuted for corruption. For he did not think himself con- 
 nected by any bond of duty with that man, when he, by the 
 commission of such enormous wickedness, had broken asunder 
 the ties of all duties whatever. Who of us countenanced 
 Servius Sylla? who * * * ? who of us thought Marcus 
 LEeca or Caius Cornelius fit to be defended? who of all the 
 men whom you see here gave the countenance of his presence 
 to any one of those criminals'? No one. Why was that? 
 Because in other causes good men think that they ought not 
 to refuse to defend even guilty men, if they are their own in- 
 timate personal friends ; but, in this prosecution, there would 
 not only be the fault of acting lightly, but there would be even 
 some infection of wickedness which w r ould taint one who de- 
 fended that man whom he suspected of being involved in the 
 guilt of planning the parricide of his country. What was the 
 case of Autronius ? did not his companions did not his own 
 
100 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 colleagues, did not his former friends, of whom he had at one 
 time an ample number, did not all these men, who are the 
 chief men in the republic, abandon him % Ay, and many of 
 them even damaged him with their evidence. They made up 
 their minds that it was an offense of such enormity, that they 
 not only were bound to abstain from doing any thing to con- 
 ceal it, but that it was their duty to reveal it, and throw all 
 the light that they were able upon it. 
 
 HI. What reason is there then for your wondering, if you 
 see me countenancing this cause in company with those men, 
 whom you know that I also joined in discountenancing the 
 other causes by absenting myself from them. Unless you 
 wish me to be considered a man of eminent ferocity before all 
 other men, a man savage, inhuman, and endowed with an ex- 
 traordinary cruelty and barbarity of disposition. If this be 
 the character which, on account of all my exploits, you wish 
 now to fix upon my whole life, O Torquatus, you are great- 
 ly mistaken. Nature made me merciful, my country made 
 me severe ; but neither my country nor nature has ever 
 required me to be cruel. Lastly, that same vehement and 
 fierce character which at that time the occasion and the 
 republic imposed upon me, my oavu inclination and nature 
 itself has now relieved me of; for my country required sever- 
 ity for a short time, my nature requires clemency and lenity 
 during my whole life. There is, therefore, no pretense for 
 your separating me from so numerous a company of most 
 honorable men. Duty is a plain thing, and the cause of all 
 men is one and the same. You will have no reason to marvel 
 hereafter, whenever you see me on the same side as you ob-r 
 'jerve these men. For there is no side in the republic in which 
 I have a peculiar and exclusive property. The time for acting 
 did belong more peculiarly to me than to the others; but 
 the cause of indignation, and fear, and danger was common to 
 us all. Nor, indeed, could I have been at that time, as I was, 
 the chief man in providing for the safety of the state, if others 
 had been unwilling to be my companions. AVherefore, it is 
 inevitable that that which, when I was consul, belonged to me 
 especially above all other men, should, now that I am a pri- 
 vate individual, belong to me in common with the rest. Nor 
 do I say this for the sake of sharing my unpopularity with 
 others, but rather with the object of allowing them to partake 
 of my praises. I will give a share of my burden to no one ,• 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 101 
 
 but a share of my glory to all good men. " You gave evi- 
 dence against Autronius," says he, " and you are defending 
 Sylla." All this, O judges, has this object, to prove that, if I 
 am an inconstant and fickle-minded man, my evidence ought 
 not to be credited, and my defense ought not to carry any 
 authority with it. But if there is found in me a proper con- 
 sideration for the republic, a scrupulous regard to my duty, 
 and a constant desire to retain the good-will of virtuous men, 
 then there is nothing which an accuser ought less to say than 
 that Sylla is defended by me, but that Autronius was injured 
 by my evidence against him. For I think that I not only 
 carry with me zeal in defending causes, but also that my de- 
 liberate opinion has some weight ; which, however, I will use 
 with moderation, O judges, and I would not have used it at all 
 if he had not compelled me. 
 
 IV. Two conspiracies are spoken of by you, O Torquatus ; 
 one, which is said to have been formed in the consulship of 
 Lepidus and Yolcatius, when your own father was consul 
 elect ; the other, that which broke out in my consulship. In 
 each of these you say that Sylla was implicated. You know 
 that I was not acquainted with the counsels of your father, a 
 most brave man, and a most excellent consul. You know, as 
 there was the greatest intimacy between you and me, that 
 I knew nothing of what happened, or of what was said in 
 those times ; I imagine, because I had not yet become a 
 thoroughly public character, because I had not yet arrived at 
 the goal of honor which I proposed to myself, and because 
 my ambition and my forensic labors separated me from all 
 political deliberations. Who, then, was present at your coun- 
 sels? All these men whom you see here, giving Sylla the 
 countenance of their presence ; and among the first was 
 Quintus Hortensius — who, by reason of his honor and worth, 
 and his admirable disposition toward the republic, and be- 
 cause of his exceeding intimacy with and excessive attach- 
 ment to your father, was greatly moved by the thoughts of 
 the common danger, and most especially by the personal peril 
 of your father. Therefore, he was defended from the charge 
 of being implicated in that conspiracy by that man who was 
 present at and acquainted with all your deliberations, who was 
 a partner in all your thoughts and in all your fears : and, ele- 
 gant and argumentative as his speech in repelling this accusa- 
 tion was, it carried with it as much authority as it displayed 
 
102 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 of ability. Of that conspiracy, therefore, which is said to have 
 been formed against you, to have been reported to you, and to 
 have been revealed by you, I was unable to say any thing as a 
 witness. For I not only found out nothing, but scarcely did 
 any report or suspicion of that matter reach my ears. They 
 who were your counselors, who became acquainted with these 
 things in your company — they who were supposed to be them- 
 selves menaced with that danger, who gave no countenance to 
 Autronius, who gave most important evidence against him — 
 are now defending Publius Sylla, are countenancing him by 
 their presence here ; now that he is in danger they declare that 
 they were not deterred by the accusation of conspiracy from 
 countenancing the others, but by the guilt of the men. But 
 for the time of my consulship, and with respect to the charge 
 of the greatest conspiracy, Sylla shall be defended by me. And 
 this partition of the cause between Hortensius and me has not 
 been made by chance, or at random, O judges, but, as we saw 
 that we were employed as defenders of a man against those ac- 
 cusations in which we might have been witnesses, each of us 
 thought that it would be best for him to undertake that part of 
 the case, concerning which he himself had been able to acquire 
 some knowledge, and to form some opinions with certainty. 
 
 V. And since you have listened attentively to Hortensius, 
 while speaking on the charge respecting the former conspiracy, 
 now, I beg you, listen to this first statement of mine respect- 
 ing the conspiracy which was formed in my consulship. 
 
 When I was consul I heard many reports, I made many in- 
 quiries, I learned a great many circumstances, concerning the 
 extreme peril of the republic. No messenger, no information, 
 no letters, no suspicion ever reached me at any time in the 
 least affecting Sylla. Perhaps this assertion ought to have 
 great weight, when coming from a man who, as consul, 
 had investigated the plots laid against the republic with 
 prudence, had revealed them with sincerity, had chastised 
 them with magnanimity, and who says that he himself never 
 heard a word against Publius Sylla, and never entertained 
 a suspicion of him. But I do not as yet employ this 
 assertion for the purpose of defending him; I rather use 
 it with a view to clear myself, in order that Torquatus may 
 cease to wonder that I, who would not appear by the side 
 of Autronius, am now defending Sylla. For what was the 
 cause of Autronius 1 and what is the cause of Sylla ? The 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 103 
 
 former tried to disturb and get rid of a prosecution for bribery 
 by raising in the first instance a sedition among gladiators and 
 runaway slaves, and after that, as we all saw, by stoning peo- 
 ple, and collecting a violent mob. Sylla, if his own modesty 
 and worth could not avail him, sought no other assistance. 
 The former, w r hen he had been convicted, behaved in such 
 a manner, not only in his secret designs and conversation, but 
 in every look and in his whole countenance, as to appear 
 an enemy to the most honorable orders in the state, hostile 
 to every virtuous man, and a foe to his country. The latter 
 considered himself so bowed down, so broken down by that 
 misfortune, that he thought that none of his former dignity 
 was left to him, except what he could retain by his present 
 moderation. And in this conspiracy, w r hat union w r as ever so 
 close as that between Autronius and Catiline, between Autro- 
 nius and Lentulus? What combination was there ever be- 
 tween any men for the most virtuous purposes, so intimate as 
 his connection with them for deeds of wickedness, lust and 
 audacity? what crime is there which Lentulus did not plot 
 w r ith Autronius? what atrocity did Catiline ever commit with- 
 out his assistance 1 while, in the mean time, Sylla not only ab- 
 stained from seeking the concealment of night and solitude in 
 their company, but he had never the very slightest intercourse 
 with them, either in conversation or in casual meetings. The 
 Allobroges, those who gave us the truest information on the 
 most important matters, accused Autronius, and so did the 
 letters of many men, and many private witnesses. All that 
 time no one ever accused Sylla ; no one ever mentioned his 
 name. Lastly, after Catiline had been driven out, or allowed 
 to depart out of the city, Autronius sent his arms, trumpets, 
 bugles, scythes, 1 standards, legions. He who was left in the 
 city, but expected out of it, though checked by the punish- 
 ment of Lentulus, gave way at times to feelings of fear, but 
 never to any right feelings or good sense. Sylla, on the other 
 hand, was so quiet, that all that time he was at Naples, where 
 it is not supposed that there were any men who were impli- 
 cated in or suspected of this crime ; and the place itself is one 
 not so well calculated to excite the feelings of men in distress, 
 as to console them. 
 
 "VI. On account, therefore, of this great dissimilarity be- 
 
 1 Some commentators propose fasces instead of falces here, and it 
 would certainly make much better sense. 
 
104 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tween the men and the eases, I also behaved in a different 
 manner to them both. For Autronius came to me, and he 
 was constantly coming to me, with many tears, as a sup- 
 pliant, to beg me to defend him, and he used to remind me 
 that he had been my school-fellow in my childhood, my friend 
 in my youth, and my colleague in the quaestorship. He used 
 to enumerate many services which I had done him, and some 
 also which he had done me. By all which circumstances, O 
 judges, I was so much swayed and influenced, that I banished 
 from my recollection all the plots which he had laid against 
 me myself; that I forgot that Caius Cornelius had been lately 
 sent by him for the purpose of killing me in my own house, 
 in the sight of my wife and children. And if he had formed 
 these designs against me alone, such is my softness and lenity 
 of disposition, that I should never have been able to resist his 
 tears and entreaties ; but when the thoughts of my country, 
 of your dangers, of this city, of all those shrines»and temples 
 which we see around us, of the infant children, and matrons, 
 and virgins of the city occurred to me, and when those hostile*, 
 and fatal torches destined for the entire conflagration of the 
 whole city, when the arms which had been collected, when the 
 slaughter and blood of the citizens, when the ashes of my 
 country began to present themselves to my eyes, and to excite 
 my feelings by the recollection, then I resisted him, then 
 I resisted not only that enemy of his country, that parricide 
 himself, but I withstood also his relations the Marcelli, father 
 and son, one of whom was regarded by me with the respect 
 due to a parent, and the other with the affection which one 
 feels toward a son. And I thought that I could not, without 
 being guilty of the very greatest wickedness, defend in their 
 companion the same crimes which I had chastised in the case 
 of others, when I knew him to be guilty. And, on the same 
 principle, 1 could not endure to see Publius Sylla coming to ma 
 as a suppliant, or these same Marcelli in tears at his danger ; 
 nor could I resist the entreaties of Marcus Messala, whom vou 
 see in court, a most intimate friend of my own. For, neither 
 was his cause disagreeable to my natural disposition, nor had 
 the man or the facts any thing in them at variance with my 
 feelings of clemency, llis name had never been mentioned, 
 there was no trace whatever of him in the conspiracy ; no in- 
 formation had touched him, no suspicion had born breathed of 
 him. I undertook his cause, O Torquatus; I undertook i^ 
 
FOR R SYLLA. 105 
 
 and I did so willingly, in order that, while good men had al- 
 ways, as I hope, thought me virtuous and firm, not even bad 
 men might be able to call me cruel. 
 
 VII. This Torquatus then, O judges, says that he can not 
 endure my kingly power. What is the meaning of my kingly 
 power, O Torquatus ? I suppose you mean the power I ex- 
 erted in my consulship ; in which I did not command at all, 
 but, on the contrary, I obeyed the conscript fathers, and all 
 good men. In my discharge of that office, O judges, kingly 
 power was not established by me, but put down. Will you say 
 that then, when I had such absolute power and authority over- 
 all the military and civil affairs of the state, I was not a king, 
 but that now, when I am only a private individual, I have the 
 power of a king ? Under what title ? " Why? because," says 
 he, " those against whom you gave evidence were convicted, 
 and the man whom you defend hopes that he shall be acquit- 
 ted." Here I make you this reply, as to what concerns my 
 evidence : that if I gave false evidence, you also gave evidence 
 against the same man ; if my testimony was true, then I say, 
 that persuading the judges to believe a true statement, which 
 one has made on oath, is a very different thing from being a 
 king. And of the hopes of my client, I only say, that Publius 
 Sylla does not expect from me any exertion of my influence or 
 interest, or, in short, any thing except to defend him with good 
 faith. " But unless you," says he, " had undertaken his cause, 
 he would never have resisted me, but would have fled without 
 saying a word in his defense." Even if I were to grant to you 
 that Quintus Hortensius, being a man of such wisdom as he is, 
 and that all these men of high character, rely not on their own 
 judgment, but on mine ; if I were to grant to you, what no 
 one can believe, that these men would not have countenanced 
 Publius Sylla if I had not done so too ; still, which is the 
 king, he whom men, though perfectly innocent, can not resist, 
 or he who does not abandon men in misfortune 1 ? But here 
 too, though you had not the least occasion for it, you took a 
 fancy to be witty, when you called me Tarquin, and Numa, 
 and the third foreign king of Rome. I won't say any more 
 about the word king; but I should like to know why you 
 called me a foreigner. For, if I am such, then it is not so 
 marvelous that I should be a king — because, as you say 
 yourself, foreigners have before now been kings at Rome — as 
 that a foreigper should be a consul at Rome. " This is what J 
 
 E 2 
 
 I 
 
106 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mean," says he, " that you come from a municipal town." I 
 confess that I do, and I add, that I come from that municipal 
 town from which salvation to this city and empire has more 
 than once proceeded. But I should like exceedingly to know 
 from you, how it is that those men who come from the muni- 
 cipal towns appear to you to be foreigners. For no one ever 
 made that objection to that great man, Marcus Cato the elder, 
 though he had many enemies, or to Titus Coruncanius, or to 
 Marcus Curius, or even to that great hero of our own times, 
 Caius Marius, through many men envied him. In truth, I am 
 exceedingly delighted that I am a man of such a character 
 that, when you were anxious to find fault with me, you could 
 still find nothing to reproach me with which did not apply also 
 to the greater part of the citizens. 
 
 VIII. But still, on account of your great friendship and in- 
 timacy, I think it well to remind you of this more than once 
 — all men can not be patricians. If you would know the 
 truth, they do not all even wish to be so ; nor do those of 
 your own age think that you ought on that account to have 
 precedence over them. And if we seem to you to be foreign- 
 ers, we whose name and honors have now become familiar 
 topics of conversation and panegyric throughout the city and 
 among all men, how greatly must those competitors of yours 
 seem to be foreigners, who now, having been picked out of all 
 Italy, are contending with you for honor and for every dig- 
 nity ! And yet take care that you do not call one of these a 
 foreigner, lest you should be overwhelmed by the votes of the 
 foreigners. For if they once bring their activity and perse- 
 verance into action, believe me they will shake those arrogant 
 expressions out of you, and they will frequently wake you from 
 sleep, and will not endure to be surpassed by you in honors, un- 
 less they are also excelled by you in virtue. And if, O judges, 
 it is fit for me and you to be considered foreigners by the rest 
 of the patricians, still nothing ought to be said about this blot 
 by Torquatus. For he himself is, on his mother's side, a cit- 
 izen of a municipal town ; a man of a most honorable and 
 noble family, but still he comes from Asculum. Either let 
 him, then, show that the Piccntians alone are not foreigners, 
 or else let him congratulate himself that I do not put my 
 family before his. So do not for the future call me a foreign- 
 er, lest you meet with a sterner refutation ; and do not call 
 me a king, lest you be laughed at. Unless, indeed, it appears 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 107 
 
 to be the conduct of a king to live in such a manner as not to 
 be slave not only to any man, but not even to any passion ; 
 to despise all capricious desires ; to covet neither gold nor 
 silver, nor any thing else ; to form one's opinions in the sen- 
 ate with freedom; to consider the real interests of the peo- 
 ple, rather than their inclinations ; to yield to no one, to op- 
 pose many men. If you think that this is the conduct of a 
 king, then I confess that I am a king. If my power, if my 
 sway, if, lastly, any arrogant or haughty expression of mine 
 moves your indignation, then you should rather allege that, 
 than stoop to raise odium against me by a name, and to em- 
 ploy mere abuse and insult. 
 
 IX. If, after having done so many services to the republic, 
 I were to ask for myself no other reward from the senate and 
 people of Eome beyond honorable ease, who is there who 
 would not grant it to me % If I were to ask, that they would 
 keep all honors, and commands, and provinces, and triumphs, 
 and all the other insignia of eminent renown to themselves, 
 and that they would allow me to enjoy the sight of the city 
 which I had saved, and a tranquil and quiet mind? What, 
 however, if I do not ask this 1 what, if my former industry, 
 my anxiety, my assistance, my labor, my vigilance is still at 
 the service of my friends, and ready at the call of every one ? 
 If my friends never seek in vain for my zeal on their behalf 
 in the forum, nor the republic in the senate-house ; if neither 
 the holiday earned by my previous achievements, nor the ex- 
 cuse which my past honors or my present age might supply me 
 with, is employed to save me from trouble ; if my good-will, 
 my industry, my house, my attention, and my ears are always 
 open to all men ; if I have not even any time left to recollect 
 and think over those things which I have done for the safety 
 of the whole body of citizens ; shall this still be called kingly 
 power, when no one can possibly be found who would act as 
 my substitute in it ? All suspicion of aiming at kingly power 
 is very far removed from me. If you ask who they are who 
 have endeavored to assume kingly power in Eome, without 
 unfolding the records of the public annals, you may find them 
 among the images in your own house. I suppose it is my 
 achievements which have unduly elated me, and have inspired 
 me with I know not how much pride. Concerning which 
 deeds of mine, illustrious and immortal as they are, O judges, 
 1 can say thus much — that I, who have saved this city, and 
 
108 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the lives of all the citizens, from the most extreme dangers, 
 shall have gained quite reward enough, if no danger arises 
 to myself out of the great service which I have done to all 
 men. 
 
 In truth, I recollect in what state it is that I have done 
 such great exploits, and in what city I am living. The forum 
 is full of those men whom I, O judges, have taken off from 
 your necks, but have not removed from my own. Unless you 
 think that they were only a few men, who were able to at- 
 tempt or to hope that they might be able to destroy so vast 
 an empire. I was able to take away their fire-brands, to wrest 
 their torches from their hands, as I did ; but their wicked 
 and impious inclinations I could neither cure nor eradicate. 
 Therefore I am not ignorant in what danger I am living 
 among such a multitude of wicked men, since I see that I 
 have undertaken single-handed an eternal war against all 
 wicked men. 
 
 X. But if, perchance, you envy that means of protection 
 which I have, and if it seems to you to be of a kingly sort — 
 namely, the fact that all good men of all ranks and classes 
 consider their safety as bound up with mine — comfort your- 
 self with the reflection that the dispositions of all wicked 
 men are especially hostile to and furious against me alone; 
 and they hate me, not only because I repressed their profligate 
 attempts and impious madness, but still more because they 
 think that, as long as I am alive, they can attempt nothing 
 more of the same sort. But why do I wonder if any wicked 
 thing is said of me by wicked men, where Lucius Torquatus 
 himself, after having in the first place laid such a foundation 
 of virtue as he did in his youth, after having proposed to 
 himself the hope of the most honorable dignity in the state, 
 and, in the second place, being the son of Lucius Torquatus, 
 a most intrepid consul, a most virtuous senator, and at all 
 times a most admirable citizen, is sometimes run away with 
 by impetuosity of language 1 For when he had spoken in a 
 low voice of the wickedness of Publius Lentulus, and of the 
 audacity of all the conspirators, so that only you, who ap- 
 prove of those things, could bear what he said, he spoke with 
 a loud querulous voice of the execution of Publius Lentulus 
 and of the prison ; in which there was, first of all, this absurd- 
 ity, that when he wished to gain your approval of the incon- 
 siderate things which he had said, but did not wish those 
 
FOR P. SYLLA 109 
 
 men, who were standing around the tribunal, to hear them, 
 he did not perceive that, while he was speaking so loudly, 
 those men whose favor he was seeking to gain could not 
 hear him, without your hearing him too, who did not approve 
 of what he was saying ; and, in the second place, it is a great 
 defect in an orator not to see what each cause requires. For 
 nothing is so inconsistent, as for a man who is accusing 
 another of conspiracy, to appear to lament the punishment 
 and death of conspirators ; which is not, indeed, strange to 
 any one, when it is done by that tribune of the people who 
 appears to be the only man left to bewail those conspirators ; 
 for it is difficult to be silent when you are really grieved. 
 But, if you do any thing of that sort, I do greatly marvel at 
 you, not only because you are such a young man as you are, 
 but because you do it in the very cause in which you wish to 
 appear as a punisher of conspiracy. However, what I find 
 fault with most of all, is this : that you, with your abilities 
 and your prudence, do not maintain the true interest of the 
 republic, but believe, on the contrary, that those actions are 
 not approved of by the Roman people, which, when 1 was con- 
 sul, were done by all virtuous men, for the preservation of the 
 common safety of all. 
 
 XI. Do you believe that any one of those men who are 
 here present, into whose favor you were seeking to insinuate 
 yourself against their will, was either so wicked as to wish all 
 these things to be destroyed, or so miserable as to wish to 
 perish himself, and to have nothing which he wished to pre- 
 serve? Is there any one who blames the most illustrious 
 man of your family and name, who deprived his own son 1 of 
 life in order to strengthen his power over the rest of hi? 
 army ; and do you blame the republic for destroying domestic 
 enemies in order to avoid being herself destroyed by them? 
 Take notice then, O Torquatus, to what extent I shirk the 
 avowal of the actions of my consulship. I speak, and I always 
 will speak, with my loudest voice, in order that all men may 
 be able to hear me : be present all of you with your minds, 
 ye who are present with your bodies, ye in whose numerous 
 attendance I take great pleasure ; give me your attention 
 
 1 This refers to the story of Titus Manlius Torquatus, who, in the 
 Latin war (a.u.c. 415), put his own son to death for leaving his ranks (in 
 forgetfulness of a general order issued by his father the consul) to fight 
 Geminius Metius, whom he slew. The story is told by Livy, lib. iii. c 7. 
 
110 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and all your ears, and listen to me while I speak of what 
 he believes to be unpopular topics. I, as consul, when an 
 army of abandoned citizens, got together by clandestine 
 wickedness, had prepared a most cruel and miserable destruc- 
 tion for my country ; when Catiline had been appointed to 
 manage the fall and ruin of the republic in the camp, and 
 when Lentulus was the leader among these very temples and 
 houses around us ; I, I say, by my labors, at the risk of my 
 own life, by my prudence, without any tumult, without 
 making any extraordinary levies, without arms, without an 
 army, having arrested and executed five men, delivered the 
 city from conflagration, the citizens from massacre, Italy 
 from devastation, the republic from destruction. I, at the 
 price of the punishment of five frantic and ruined men, ran- 
 somed the lives of all the citizens, the constitution of the 
 whole world, this city, the home of all of us, the citadel of 
 foreign kings and foreign nations, the light of all people, the 
 abode of empire. Did you think that I would not say this 
 in a court of justice when I was not on my oath, which I had 
 said before now in a most numerous assembly when speaking^- 
 on oath ? 
 
 XII. And I will say this further, O Torquatus, to prevent 
 any wicked man from conceiving any sudden attachment to, 
 or any sudden hopes of you ; and, in order that every one 
 may hear it, I will say it as loudly as I can : Of all those 
 things which I undertook and did during my consulship in 
 defense of the common safety, that Lucius Torquatus, being 
 my constant comrade in my consulship, and having been so 
 also in my praetorship, was my defender, and assistant, and 
 partner in my actions ; being also the chief, and the leader, 
 and the standard-bearer of the Roman youth ; and his father, 
 a man most devoted to his country, a man of the greatest 
 courage, of the most consummate political wisdom, and of sin- 
 gular firmness, though he was sick, still was constantly present 
 at all my actions ; he never left my side : he, by his zeal and 
 
 1 This refers to Cicero's conduct when resigning his consulship. Me- 
 tellus, as has been said before, refused to allow him to make a speech to 
 the people, because, as he said, he had put Roman citizens to death with- 
 out a trial ; on which Cicero, instead of making oath in the ordinary for- 
 mula, that he had discharged his duty with fidelity, swore with a loud 
 voice "that the republic and the city had been saved by his unassisted 
 labor ;" and all the Roman people cried out with one voice that that state- 
 ment was true to its fullest extent. See Cic. in Pis 3. 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. U\ 
 
 wisdom and authority was of the very greatest assistance to 
 me, overcoming the infirmity of his body by the vigor of hig 
 mind. Do you not see now, how I deliver you from the dan- 
 ger of any sudden popularity among the wicked, and reconcile 
 you to all good men ? who love you, and cherish you, and who 
 always will cherish you ; nor, if perchance you for a while 
 abandon me, will they on that account allow you to abandon 
 them and the republic and your own dignity. 
 
 But now I return to the cause ; and I call you, O judges, 
 to bear witness to this — that this necessity of speaking ox 
 myself was imposed on me by him. For if Torquatus had 
 been content with accusing Sylla, I too at the present time 
 should have done nothing beyond defending him who had 
 been accused; but when he, in his whole speech, inveighed 
 against me, and when, in the very beginning, as I said, he 
 sought to deprive my defense of all authority, even if my 
 indignation had not compelled me to speak, still the necessity 
 of doing justice to my cause would have demanded this speech 
 from me. 
 
 XIII. You say that Sylla was named by the Allobroges. 
 Who denies it % but read the information, and see how he was 
 named. They said that Lucius Cassius had said that, among 
 other men, Autronius was favorable to their designs. I ask, 
 did Cassius say that Sylla was? Never. They say that they 
 themselves inquired of Cassius what Sylla' s opinions were. 
 Observe the diligence of the Gauls. They, knowing nothing 
 of the life or character of the man, but only having heard 
 that he and Autronius had met with one common disaster, 
 asked whether his inclinations were the same ? What then ? 
 Even if Cassius had made answer that Sylla was of the same 
 opinion, and was favorable to their views, still it would not 
 seem to me that that reply ought to be made matter of accu- 
 sation against him. How so ? Because, as it was his object 
 to instigate the barbarians to war, it was no business of his 
 to weaken their expectations, or to acquit those men of whom 
 they did entertain some suspicions. But yet he did not reply 
 that Sylla was favorable to their designs. And, in truth, it 
 would have been an absurdity, after he had named every one 
 else of his own accord, to make no mention of Sylla till he 
 was reminded of him and asked about him. Unless you 
 think this probable, that Lucius Cassius had quite forgotten 
 the name of Publius Sylla Even if the high rank of the 
 
112 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 man, and his unfortunate condition, and the relics of his an- 
 cient dignity, had not made him notorious, still the mention 
 of Autronius must have recalled Sylla to his recollection. In 
 truth, it is my opinion, that, when Cassius was enumerating 
 the authority of the chief men of the conspiracy, for the pur- 
 pose of exciting the minds of the Allobroges, as he knew that 
 the foreign nations are especially moved by an illustrious 
 name, he would not have named Autronius before Sylla, if 
 he had been able to name Sylla at all. But no one can be 
 induced to believe this — that the Gauls, the moment that Au- 
 tronius was named, should have thought, on account of the 
 similarity of their misfortunes, that it was worth their while 
 to make inquiries about Sylla, but that Cassius, if he really 
 was implicated in this wickedness, should never have once 
 recollected Sylla, even after he had named Autronius. How- 
 ever, what was the reply which Cassius made about Sylla? 
 He said that he was not sure. " He does not acquit him," 
 says Torquatus. I have said before, that, even if he had ac- 
 cused him, when he was interrogated in this manner, his reply 
 ought not to have been made matter of accusation against 
 Sylla. But I think that, in judicial proceedings and exam- 
 inations, the thing to be inquired is, not whether any one is 
 exculpated, but whether any one is inculpated. And in 
 truth, when Cassius says that he does not know, is he seeking 
 to exculpate Sylla, or proving clearly enough that he really 
 does not know? He is unwilling to compromise him with 
 the Gauls. Why so I That they may not mention him in 
 their information 1 What ? If he had supposed that there 
 was any danger of their ever giving any information at all, 
 would he have made that confession respecting himself? He 
 did not know it. I suppose, O judges, Sylla was the only per- 
 son about whom Cassius was kept in the dark. For he certain- 
 ly was well informed about every one else ; and it was thor- 
 oughly proved that a great deal of the conspiracy was hatch- 
 ed at his house. As he did not like to deny that Sylla made 
 one of the conspirators, his object being to give the Gauls as 
 much hope as possible, and as he did not venture to assert 
 what was absolutely false, he said that he did not know. But 
 this is quite evident, that as he, who knew the truth about 
 every one, said that he did not know about Sylla, the samo 
 weight is due to this denial of his as if he had saM that he did 
 know that he had nothing to do with the conspiracy. Fo* 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 113 
 
 •when it is perfectly certain that a man is acquainted with all 
 the conspirators, his ignorance of any one ought to be consid- 
 ered an acquittal of him. But I am not asking now whether 
 Cassius acquits Sylla ; this is quite sufficient for me, that there 
 is not one word to implicate Sylla in the whole information 
 of the Allobroses. 
 
 XIV. Torquatus being cut off from this article of his accu- 
 sation, a^ain turns against me, and accuses me. He says that 
 I have made an entiy in the public registers of a different 
 statement from that which was really made. O ye immortal 
 gods (for I will give you what belongs to you ; nor can I 
 attribute so much to my own ability, as to think that I was 
 able, in that most turbulent tempest which was afflicting the 
 republic, to manage, of my own power, so many and such 
 important affairs — affairs arising so unexpectedly, and of such 
 various characters) ! it was you, in truth, who then inflamed 
 my mind with the desire of saving my country; it was you 
 who turned me from all other thoughts to the one idea of 
 preserving the republic ; it was you who, amid all that dark- 
 ness of error and ignorance, held a bright light before my 
 mind ! I saw this, O judges, that unless, while the recollec- 
 tion of the senate on the subject was still fresh, I bore evi- 
 dence to the authority and to the particulars of this informa- 
 tion by public records, hereafter some one, not Torquatus, nor 
 any one like Torquatus (for in that indeed I have been much 
 deceived), but some one who had lost his patrimony, some 
 enemy of tranquillity, some foe to all good men, would say 
 that the information given had been different ; in order the 
 more easily, when some gale of odium had been stirred up 
 against all virtuous men, to be able, amid the misfortunes of 
 the republic, to discover some harbor for his own broken 
 vessel. Therefore, having introduced the informers into the 
 senate, I appointed senators to take down every statement 
 made by the informers, every question that was asked, and 
 every answer that was given. And what men they were ! 
 Not only men of the greatest virtue and good faith, of winch 
 sort of men there are plenty in the senate, but men, also, 
 who I knew from their memory, from their knowledge, from 
 their habit and rapidity of writing, could most easily follow 
 every thing that was said. I selected Caius Cosconius, who 
 was praetor at the time ; Marcus INlessala, who was at the time 
 standing for the praetorship ; Publius Nigidius, and Appius 
 
114 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Claudius. I believe that there is no one who thinks that these 
 men were deficient either in the good faith or in the ability 
 requisite to enable them to give an accurate report. 
 
 XV. What followed? What did I do next? As I knew 
 that the information was by these means entered among the 
 public documents, but yet that those records would be kept in 
 the custody of private individuals, according to the customs of 
 our ancestors, I did not conceal it ; I did not keep it at my 
 own house ; but I caused it at once to be copied out by sev- 
 eral clerks, and to be distributed every where, and published 
 and made known to the Roman people. I distributed it all 
 over Italy, I sent copies of it into every province ; I wish no 
 one to be ignorant of that information, by means of which 
 safety was procured for all. And I took this precaution, 
 though at so disturbed a time, and when all opportunities of 
 acting were so sudden and so brief, at the suggestion of some 
 divine providence, as I said before, and not of my own accord, 
 or of my own wisdom ; taking care, in the first instance, that 
 no one should be able to recollect of the danger to the repub- 
 lic, or to any individual, only as much as he pleased ; and in 
 the second place, that no one should be able at any time to 
 find fault with that information, or to accuse us of having given 
 credit to it rashly ; and lastly, that no one should ever put any 
 questions to me, or seek to learn any thing from my private 
 journals, lest I might be accused of either forgetting or re- 
 membering too much, and lest any negligence of mine should 
 be thought discreditable, or lest any eagerness on my part 
 might seem cruel. 
 
 But still, O Torquatus, I ask you, as your enemy was men- 
 tioned in the information, and as a full senate and the mem- 
 ory of all men as to so recent an affair was a witness of that 
 fact ; as my clerks would have communicated the informa- 
 tion to you, my intimate friend and companion, if you had 
 wished for it, even before they had taken a copy of it ; when 
 you saw that there were any incorrectnesses in it, why were 
 you silent, why did you permit them? Why did you not 
 make a complaint to me or to some friend of mine ? or Why 
 did you not at least, since you are so well inclined to inveigh 
 against your friends, expostulate passionately and earnestly 
 with me"? Do you, when your voice was never once heard 
 at the time, when, though the information was read, and 
 copied out, and published, you kept silence then — do you, I 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 115 
 
 &nv, now on a sudden dare to bring forward a statement of 
 such importance? and to place yourself in such a position 
 that, before you can convict me of having tampered with the 
 information, you must confess that you are convicted yourself 
 of the grossest negligence, on your own information laid against 
 yourself ? 
 
 XVI. Was the safety of any one of such consequence to 
 me as to induce me to forget my own? or to make me con- 
 taminate the truth, which I had laid open, by any lie ? Or do 
 you suppose that I would assist any one by whom I thought 
 that a cruel plot had been laid against the republic, and most 
 especially against me the consul 1 But if I had been forgetful 
 of my own severity and of my own virtue, was I so mad, as, 
 when letters are things which have been devised for the sake 
 of posterity, in order to be a protection against forgetfulness, 
 to think that the fresh recollection of the whole senate could 
 be beaten down by my journal 1 I have been bearing with 
 you, O Torquatus, for a long time. I have been bearing with 
 you ; and sometimes I, of my own accord, call back and 
 check my inclination, when it has been provoked to chastise 
 your speech. I make some allowance for your violent tem- 
 per, I have some indulgence for your youth, I yield somewhat 
 to our own friendship, I have some regard to your father. 
 But unless you put some restraint upon yourself, you will 
 compel me to forget our friendship, in order to pay due regard 
 to my own dignity. No one ever attempted to attach the 
 slightest suspicion to me, that I did not defeat him ; but I 
 wish you to believe me in this ; those whom I think that I 
 can defeat most easily, are not those whom I take the greatest 
 pleasure in answering. Do you, since you are not at all igno- 
 rant of my ordinary way of speaking, forbear to abuse my 
 lenity. Do not think that the stings of my eloquence are 
 taken away, because they are sheathed. Do not think that 
 that power has been entirely lost, because I show some con- 
 sideration for, and indulgence toward you. In the first place, 
 the excuses which I make to myself for your injurious con- 
 duct, your violent temper, your age, and our friendship, have 
 much weight with me ; and, in the next place, I do not yet 
 consider you a person of sufficient power to make it worth 
 my while to contend and argue with you. But if you were 
 more capable through age and experience, I should pursue 
 the conduct which is habitual to me when I have been pro- 
 
116 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 voked; at present I will deal with you in such a way that 1 
 shall seem to have received an injury rather than to have re- 
 guited one. 
 
 XVII. Nor, indeed, can I make out why you are angry with 
 me. If it is because I am defending a man whom you are ac- 
 cusing, why should not I also be angry with you, for accusing 
 a man whom I am defending*? "I," say you, "am accusing 
 my enemy." And I am defending my friend. "But you 
 ought not to defend any one who is being tried for conspira- 
 cy." On the contrary, no one ought to be more prompt to de- 
 fend a man of whom he has never suspected any ill, than he 
 who has had many reasons for forming opinions about other 
 men. "Why did you give evidence against others?" Be- 
 cause I was compelled. "Why were they convicted?" Be- 
 cause my evidence was believed. " It is behaving like a king 
 to speak against whomsoever you please, and to defend whom- 
 soever you please." Say, rather, that it is slavery not to be 
 able to speak against any one you choose, and to defend any 
 one you choose. And if you begin to consider whether it was 
 more necessary for me to do this, or for you to do that, you 
 will perceive that you could with more credit fix a limit to 
 your enmities than I could to my humanity. 
 
 But when the greatest honors of your family were at stake, 
 that is to say, the consulship of your father, that wise man 
 your father was not angry with his most intimate friends for 
 defending and praising Sylla. He was aware that this was a 
 principle handed down to us from our ancestors, that we were 
 not to be hindered by our friendship for any one, from ward- 
 ing off dangers from others. And yet that contest was far 
 from resembling this trial. Then, if Publius Sylla could bo 
 put down, the consulship would be procured for your father, 
 as it was procured ; it was a contest of honor ; you were cry- 
 ing out, that you were seeking to recover what had been taken 
 from you, in order that, having been defeated in the Campus 
 Martius, you might succeed in the forum. Then, those who 
 were contending against you for Sylla' s safety, your greatest 
 friends, with whom you were not angry on that account, 
 deprived you of the consulship, resisted your acquisition of 
 honor; and yet they did so without any rupture of your mu- 
 tual friendship, without violating any duty, according to an- 
 cient precedent and the established principles of every good 
 man 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 117 
 
 XVm. But now what promotion of yours am I opposing ? 
 or what dignity of yours am I throwing obstacles in the way 
 of? What is there which you can at present seek from this 
 proceeding? Honor has been conferred on your father; the 
 insignia of honor have descended to you. You, adorned with 
 his spoils, come to tear the body of him whom you have slain ; 
 I am defending and protecting him who is lying prostrate and 
 stripped of his arms. And on this you find fault with me, 
 and are angry because I defend him. But I not only am not 
 angry with you, but I do not even find fault with your pro- 
 ceeding For I imagine that you have laid down a rule for 
 yourself as to what you thought that you ought to do, and 
 that you have appointed a very capable judge of your duty. 
 " Oh, but the son of Caius Cornelius accuses him, and that 
 ought to have the same weight as if his father had given in- 
 formation against him." O wise Cornelius — the father, I mean 
 — who left all the reward which is usually given for informa- 
 tion, but has got all the discredit which a confession can in- 
 volve, through the accusation brought by his son ! However, 
 what is it that Cornelius gives information of by the mouth of 
 that boy ! If it is a part of the business which is unknown 
 to me, but which has been communicated to Hortensius, let 
 Hortensius reply. If, as you say, his statement concerns that 
 crew of Autronius and Catiline, when they intended to commit 
 a massacre in the Campus Martius, at the consular comitia, 
 which were held by me ; we saw Autronius that day in the 
 Campus. And why do I say we saw f I myself saw him 
 (for you at that time, O judges, had no anxiety, no suspicions ; 
 I, protected by a firm guard of friends at that time, checked 
 me forces and the endeavors of Catiline and Autronius). Is 
 there, then, any one who says that Sylla at that time had any 
 idea of coming into the Campus ! And yet, if at that time he 
 hacl united himself with Catiline in that society of wickedness, 
 why did he leave him 1 why was not he with Autronius 1 why, 
 when their cases were similar, are -not similar proofs of crim- 
 inality found ! But since Cornelius himself even now hesitates 
 about giving information against him, he, as you say, contents 
 himself with filling up the outline of his son's information. 
 "What then does he say about that night, when, according to 
 the orders of Catiline, he came into the Scythe-makers' l street, 
 to the house of Marcus Lecca, that night which followed the 
 
 1 This was the name of a street. 
 
;i& CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 sixth of November, in my consulship ! that night which of all 
 the moments of the conspiracy was the most terrible and the 
 most miserable. Then the day in which Catiline should leave 
 the city, then the terms on which the rest should remain be- 
 hind, then the arrangement and division of the whole city, with 
 regard to the conflagration and the massacre, was settled. 
 Then your father, O Cornelius, as he afterward confessed, beg- 
 ged for himself that especial employment of going the first 
 thing in the morning to salute me as consul, in order that, 
 having been admitted, according to my usual custom and to 
 the privilege which his friendship with me gave him, he might 
 slay me in my bed. 
 
 XIX. At this time, when the conspiracy was at its height ; 
 when Catiline was starting for the army, and Lentulus was 
 being left in the city ; when Cassius was being appointed to 
 superintend the burning of the city, and Cethegus the mas- 
 sacre ; when Autronius had the part allotted to him of 
 occupying Italy ; when, in short, every thing was being ar- 
 ranged, and settled, and prepared ; where, O Cornelius, was 
 Sylla I Was he at Rome 1 No, he was very far away. Was 
 he in those districts to which Catiline was betaking himself ! 
 PL* was still farther from them. Was he in the Camertine, 
 or Picenian, or Gallic district 1 lands which the disease, as it 
 were, of that phrensy had infected most particularly. Noth- 
 ing is further from the truth ; for he was, as I have said al- 
 ready, at Naples. He was in that part of Italy which above 
 all others was free from all suspicion of being implicated in 
 that business. What then does he state in his information, or 
 what does he allege — I mean Cornelius, or you who bring 
 these messages from him ? He says that gladiators were 
 bought, under pretense of some games to be exhibited by 
 Faustus, for the purposes of slaughter and tumult. Just so ; 
 the gladiators are mentioned whom we know that he was 
 bound to provide according to his father's will. "But he 
 seized on a whole household of gladiators ; and if he had 
 left that alone, some other troop might have discharged the 
 duty to which Faustus was bound." I wish this troop 
 could satisfy not only the envy of parties unfavorable to* 
 him, but even the expectations of reasonable men. " He 
 was in a desperate hurry, when the time for the exhibition 
 was still far oiF." As if, in reality, the time for the exhi- 
 bition was not drawing very near. This household of slavea 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 119 
 
 was got without Faustus having any idea of such a step ; 
 for he neither knew of it, nor wished it. But there are 
 letters of Faustus's extant, in which he begs and prays 
 Publius Sylla to buy gladiators, and to buy this very troop : 
 and not only were such letters sent to Publius Sylla, but 
 they were sent also to Lucius Caesar, to Quintus Pompeius, 
 and to Caius Memmius, by whose advice the whole busi- 
 ness was managed. But Cornelius 1 was appointed to man- 
 age the troop. If in the respect of the purchase of this 
 household of gladiators no suspicion attaches to the cir- 
 cumstances, it certainly can make no difference that he was 
 appointed to manage them afterward. But still, he in real- 
 ity only discharged the servile duty of providing them with 
 arms ; but he never did superintend the men themselves ; 
 that duty was always discharged by Balbus, a freedman of 
 Faustus. 
 
 XX. But Sittius was sent by him into farther Spain, in 
 order to excite sedition in that province. In the first place, 
 O judges, Sittius departed, in the consulship of Lucius Julius 
 and Caius Figulus, some time before this mad business of 
 Catiline's, and before there was any suspicion of this con- 
 spiracy. In the second place, he did not go there for the first 
 time, but he had already been there several years before, for 
 the same purpose that he went now. And he went, not only 
 with an object, but with a necessary object, having some im- 
 portant accounts to settle with the king of Mauritania. But 
 then, after he was gone, as Sylla managed his affairs as his 
 agent, he sold many of the most beautiful farms of Publius 
 Sittius, and by this means paid his debts ; so that the motive 
 which drove the rest to this wickedness, the desire, namely, of 
 retaining their possessions, did not exist in the case of Sittius r 
 who had diminished his landed property to pay his debts. 
 But now, how incredible, how absurd is the idea that a man 
 who wished to make a massacre at Rome, and to burn down 
 this city, should let his most intimate friend depart, should 
 send him away into the most distant countries ! Did he so in 
 order the more easily to effect what he was endeavoring to 
 do at Rome, if there were seditions in Spain ? " But these 
 things were done independently, and had no connection with 
 one another." Is it possible, then, that he should have thought 
 
 1 This Cornelius is not the Roman knight mentioned before, but some 
 freedman of Publius Sylla. 
 
120 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 it desirable, when engaged in such important affairs, in such 
 novel, and dangerous, and seditious designs, to send away a 
 man thoroughly attached to himself, his most intimate friend, 
 one connected with himself by reciprocal good offices and by 
 constant intercourse ? It is not probable that he should send 
 away, when in difficulty, and in the midst of troubles of his own 
 raising, the man whom he had always kept with him in times 
 of prosperity and tranquillity. 
 
 But is Sittius himself (for I must not desert the cause of my 
 old friend and host) a man of such a character, or of such a 
 family and such a school, as to allow us to believe that he 
 wished to make war on the republic? Can we believe that 
 he, whose father, when all our other neighbors and borderers 
 revolted from us, behaved with singular duty and loyalty to 
 our republic, should think it possible himself to undertake a 
 nefarious war against his country? A man whose debts we 
 see were contracted, not out of luxury, but from a desire to 
 increase his property, which led him to involve himself in bus- 
 iness ; and who, though he owed debts at Eome, had very 
 large debts owing to him in the provinces and in the confeder- 
 ate kingdoms ; and when he was applying for them he would 
 not allow his agents to be put in any difficulty by his absence, 
 but preferred having all his property sold, and being stripped 
 himself of a most beautiful patrimony, to allowing any delay 
 to take place in satisfying his creditors. And of men of that 
 sort I never, O judges, had any fear when I was in the mid- 
 dle of that tempest which afflicted the republic. The sort of 
 men who were formidable and terrible, were those who clung 
 to their property with such affection that you would say it 
 was easier to tear their limbs from them than their lands ; but 
 Sittius never thought that there was such a relationship be- 
 tween him and his estates ; and therefore he cleared himself, 
 not only from all suspicion of Such wickedness as theirs, but 
 even from being talked about, not by arms, but at the expense 
 of his patrimony. 
 
 XXI. But now, as to what he adds, that the inhabitants of 
 Pompeii were excited by Sylla to join that conspiracy and 
 that abominable wickedness, what sort of statement that is I 
 am quite unable to understand. Do the people of Pompeii 
 appear to have joined the conspiracy ? Who has ever said so ? 
 or when was there the slightest suspicion of this fact? "He 
 separated then," says he, " from the settlers, in order that when 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 121 
 
 he had excited dissensions and divisons within, he might be 
 able to have the town and nation of Pompeii in his power." 
 In the first place, every circumstance of the dissension be- 
 tween the natives of Pompeii and the settlers was referred to 
 the patrons of the town, being a matter of long standing, and 
 having been going on many years. In the second place, the 
 matter was investigated by the patrons in such a way, that 
 Sylla did not in any particular disagree with the opinions of 
 the others. And lastly, the settlers themselves understand 
 that the natives of Pompeii were not more defended by Sylla 
 than they themselves were. And this, O judges, you may 
 ascertain from the number of settlers, most honorable men, 
 here present ; who are here now, and are anxious and above 
 all things desirous that the man, the patron, the defender, 
 the guardian of that colony (if they have not been able 
 to see him in the safe enjoyment of every sort of good for- 
 tune and every honor), may at all events, in the present mis- 
 fortune by which he is attacked, be defended and preserved 
 by your means. The natives of Pompeii are here also with 
 equal eagerness, who are accused as well as he is by the pros- 
 ecutors ; men whose differences with the settlers about walks 
 and about votes have not gone to such lengths as to make 
 them differ also about their common safety. And even 
 this virtue of Publius Sylla appears to me to be one which 
 ought not to be passed over in silence ; that though that col- 
 ony was originally settled by^ him, and though the fortune 
 of the Roman people has separated the interests of the set- 
 tlers from the fortunes of the native citizens of Pompeii, he 
 is still so popular among, and so much beloved by both par- 
 ties, that he seems not so much to have dispossessed the one 
 party of their lands as to have settled both of them in that 
 country. 
 
 XXII. " But the gladiators, and all those preparations for 
 violence, were got together because of the motion of Crecil- 
 ius." And then he inveighed bitterly against Cascilius, a 
 most virtuous and most accomplished man, of whose virtue 
 and constancy, O judges, I will only say thus much — that he 
 behaved in such a manner with respect to that motion which 
 he brought forward, not for the purpose of doing away with, 
 but only of relieving his brother's misfortune, that, though he 
 wished to consult his brother's welfare, he was unwilling to 
 oppose the interests of the republic ; he proposed his law 
 
 F 
 
122 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 under the impulse of brotherly affection, and he abandoned it 
 because he was dissuaded from it by his brother's authority. 
 And Sylla is accused by Lucius Ca3cilius, in that business in 
 which both of them deserve praise. In the first place, Caecil- 
 ius, for having proposed a law by which he appeared to wish 
 to rescind an unjust decision ; and Sylla, who reproved him, 
 and chose to abide by the decision. For the constitution of 
 the republic derives its principal consistency from formal legal 
 decisions. Nor do I think that any one ought to yield so 
 much to his love for his brother as to think only of the wel- 
 fare of his own relations, and to neglect the common safety 
 of all. He did not touch the decision already given, but he 
 took away the punishment for bribery which had been lately 
 established by recent laws. And, therefore, by this motion 
 he was seeking, not to rescind a decision, but to correct a de- 
 fect in the law. When a man is complaining of a penalty, it 
 is not the decision with which he is finding fault, but the law. 
 For the conviction is the act of judges, and that is let stand; 
 the penalty is the act of the law, and that may be lightened. 
 Do not, therefore, alienate from your cause the inclinations 
 of those orders of men which preside over the courts of jus- 
 tice with the greatest authority and dignity. No one has at- 
 tempted to annul the decision which has been given ; noth- 
 ing of that sort has been proposed. What Cascilius always 
 thought while grieved at the calamity which had befallen his 
 brother, was, that the power of the judges ought to be pre- 
 served unimpaired, but that the severity of the law required to 
 be mitigated. 
 
 XXIII. But why need I say more on this topic ? I might 
 speak perhaps, and I would speak willingly and gladly, if 
 affection and fraternal love had impelled Lucius Cascilius a 
 little beyond the limits which regular and strict duty requires 
 of a man ; I would appeal to your feelings, I would invoke 
 the affection which every one feels for his own relations; I 
 would solicit pardon for the error of Lucius Crecilius, from 
 your own inmost thoughts and from the common humanity of 
 all men. The law was proposed only a few days ; it was nev- 
 er begun to be put in train to be carried ; it was laid on the 
 table in the senate. On the first of January, when we had 
 summoned the senate to meet in the Capitol, nothing took pre- 
 cedence of it ; and Quintus Metellus the prsetor said, that what 
 he was saying was by the command of Sylla ; that Sylla did 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 123 
 
 not wish such a motion to be brought forward respecting his 
 case. From that time forward Caecilius applied himself to 
 many measures for the advantage of the republic ; he declared 
 that he by his intercession would stop the agrarian law, which 
 was in every part of it denounced and defeated by me. He 
 resisted infamous attempts at corruption ; he never threw any 
 obstacles in the way of the authority of the senate. He be- 
 haved himself in his tribuneship in such a manner, that, lay- 
 ing aside all regard for his own domestic concerns, he thought 
 of nothing for the future but the welfare of the republic. And 
 even in regard to this very motion, who was there of us who 
 had any fears of Sylla or Csecilius attempting to cany any 
 point by violence ? Did not all the alarm that existed at that 
 time, all the fear and expectation of sedition, arise from the 
 villainy of Autronius ? It was his expressions and his threats 
 which were bruited abroad ; it was the sight of him, the mul- 
 titudes that thronged to him, the crowd that escorted him, and 
 the bands of his abandoned followers, that caused all the fear 
 of sedition which agitated us. Therefore, Publius Sylla, as 
 this most odious man was then his comrade and partner, not 
 only in honor but also in misfortune, was compelled to lose his 
 own good f&rtune, and to remain under a cloud without any 
 remedy or alleviation. 
 
 4r^^rr« At this point you are constantly reading passages 
 from my letter, which I sent to Cnaeus Pompeius about my 
 own achievements, and about the general state of the republic ; 
 and out of it you seek to extract some charge against Publius 
 Sylla. And because I wrote that an attempt of incredible 
 madness, conceived two years before, had broken out in my 
 consulship, you say that I, by this expression, have proved 
 that Sylla was in the former conspiracy. I suppose I think 
 that Cnseus Piso, and Catiline, and Yargunteius were not able 
 to do any wicked or audacious act by themselves, without the 
 aid of Publius Sylla ! But even if any one had had a doubt 
 on that subject before, would he have thought (as you accuse 
 him of having done) of descending, after the murder of your 
 father, who was then consul, into the Campus on the first of 
 January with the lictors ! This suspicion, in fact, you removed 
 yourself, when you said that he had prepared an armed band 
 and cherished violent designs against your father, in order to 
 make Catiline consul. And if I grant you this, then you must 
 grant to me that Sylla, when he was voting for Catiline, had 
 
124 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 no thoughts of recovering by violence his own consulship, 
 which he had lost by a judicial decision. P'or his character is 
 not one, O judges, which is at all liable to the imputation of 
 such enormous, of such atrocious crimes. 
 
 For I will now proceed, after I have refuted all the charges 
 against him, by an arrangement contrary to that which is 
 usually adopted, to speak of the general course of life and 
 habits of my client. In truth, at the beginning I was eager to 
 encounter the greatness of the accusation, to satisfy the expect- 
 ations of men, and to say something also of myself, since I too 
 had been accused. But now I must call you back to that point 
 to which the cause itself, even if I said nothing, would compel 
 you to direct all your attention. 
 
 XXV. In every case, O judges, which is of more serious 
 importance than usual, we must judge a good deal as to what 
 every one has wished, or intended, or done, not from the 
 counts of the indictment, but from the habits of the person 
 who is accused. For no one of us can have his character 
 modeled in a moment, nor can any one's course of life be 
 altered, or his natural disposition changed on a sudden. Sur- 
 vey for a moment in your mind's eye, O judges (to say no- 
 thing of other instances), these very men who were implicated 
 in this wickedness. Catiline conspired against the republic. 
 Whose ears were ever unwilling to believe in this attempt 
 on the part of a man who had spent his whole life, from 
 his boyhood upward, not only in intemperance and debauch- 
 ery, but who had devoted all his energies and all his zeal 
 to every sort of enormity, and lust, and bloodshed 1 "Who 
 marveled that that man died fighting against his country, 
 whom all men had always thought born for civil war? "Who 
 is there that recollects the way in which Lentulus was a part- 
 ner of informers, or the insanity of his caprices, or his perverse 
 and impious superstition, who can wonder that he cherished 
 either wicked designs, or insane hopes ? Who ever thinks of 
 Caius Cethegus and his expedition into Spain, and the wound 
 inflicted on Quintus Metellus Pius, without seeing that a 
 prison was built on purpose to be the scene of his punishment 1 
 I say nothing of the rest, that there may be some end to my 
 instances. I only ask you, silently to recollect all those men 
 who are proved to have been in this conspiracy. You will 
 see that every one of those men was convicted by his own 
 manner of life, before he was condemned by our suspicion. 
 
FOR P. SYLLA 12,1 
 
 And as for Autronius himself (since his name is the most 
 nearly connected with the danger in which my client is, and 
 with the accusation which is brought against him), did not 
 the manner in which he had spent all his early life convict 
 him ? He had always been audacious, violent, profligate. We 
 know that in defending himself in charges of adultery, he was 
 accustomed to use not only the most infamous language, but 
 even his fists and his feet. We know that he had been ac- 
 customed to drive, men from their estates, to murder his neigh- 
 bors, to plunder the temples of the allies, to disturb the courts 
 of justice by violence and arms ; in prosperity to despise every 
 body, in adversity to fight against all good men ; never to 
 regard the interests of the republic, and not to yield even to 
 fortune herself. Even if he were not convicted by the most 
 irresistible evidence, still his own habits and his past life would 
 convict him. 
 
 XXVI. Come now, compare with those men the life of Pub- 
 lius Sylla, well known as it is to you and to all the Roman 
 people ; and place it, O judges, as it were before your eyes. 
 Has there ever been any act or exploit of his which has seemed 
 to any one, I will not say audacious, but even rather inconsid- 
 erate % Do I say any act ? Has any word ever fallen from his 
 lips by which any one could be offended ? Ay, even in that 
 terrible and disorderly victory of Lucius SyTla, w r ho was found 
 more gentle or more merciful than Publius Sylla? How 
 many men's wives did he not save by begging them of Luciua 
 Sylla ! How many men are there of the highest rank and of 
 the greatest accomplishments, both of our order and of the 
 equestrian body, for whose safety he laid himself under obliga- 
 tions to Lucius Sylla ! whom I might name, for they have no 
 objection ; indeed they are here to countenance him now, with 
 the most grateful feelings toward him. But, because that 
 service is a greater one than one citizen ought to be able to do 
 to another, I entreat of you to impute to the times the fact 
 of his having such power, but to give him himself the credit 
 due to his having exerted it in such a manner. Why need 
 I speak of the other virtues of his life ? of his dignity ? of his 
 liberality? of his moderation in his own private affairs? of his 
 splendor on public occasions? For, though in these points he 
 has been crippled by fortune, yet the good foundations laid by 
 nature are visible. What a house was his ! what crowds fre- 
 quented it daily ! How great was the dignity of his behavktf 
 
126 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 to his friends ! How great was their attachment to him ! 
 What a multitude of friends had he of every order of the peo- 
 ple ! These things, which had been built up by long time 
 and much labor, one single hour deprived him of. Publius 
 Sylla, O judges, received a terrible and a mortal wound ; but 
 still it was an injury of such a sort as his way of life and his 
 natural disposition might seem liable to be exposed to. He 
 was judged to have too great a desire for honor and dignity. 
 If no one else was supposed to have such desires in standing 
 for the consulship, then he was judged to be more covetous 
 than the rest. But if this desire for the consulship has exist- 
 ed in some other men also, then, perhaps, fortune was a little 
 more unfavorable to him than to others. But, after this mis- 
 fortune, who ever saw Publius Sylla otherwise than grieving, 
 dejected, and out of spirits ? Who ever suspected that he 
 was avoiding the sight of men and the light of day, out of ha- 
 tred, and not rather out of shame? For, though he had 
 many temptations to frequent this city and the forum, by rea- 
 son of the great attachment of his friends to him — the only 
 consolation which remained to him in his misfortunes — still he 
 kept out of your sight ; and though he might have remained 
 here, as far as the law went, he almost condemned himself to 
 banishment. 
 
 XXVII. In such modest conduct as this, O judges, and in 
 such a life as this, will you believe that there was any room 
 left for such enormous wickedness? Look at the man him- 
 self; behold his countenance. Compare the accusation with 
 his course of life. Compare his life, which has been laid open 
 before you from his birth up to this day, with this accusation. 
 I say nothing of the republic, to which Sylla has always been 
 most devoted. Did he wish these friends of his, being such 
 men as they are, so attached to him, by whom his prosperity 
 had been formerly adorned, by whom his adversity is now 
 comforted and relieved, to perish miserably, in order that he 
 himself might be at liberty to pass a most miserable and 
 infamous existence in company with Lentulus, and Catiline, 
 and Cethegus, with no other prospect for the future but a 
 disgraceful death? That suspicion is not consistent — it is, 
 I sav, utterly at variance with such habits, with such modesty. 
 with Mich a life as his, with the man himself. That sprang 
 up, a perfectly unexampled sort of barbarity : it A\as an incred- 
 ible and amazing insanity. The foulness of that unheard-of 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 127 
 
 wickedness broke out on a sudden, taking its rise from the 
 countless vices of profligate men accumulated ever since their 
 
 youth. 
 
 Think not, O judges, that that violence and that attempt 
 was the work of human beings; for no nation ever was so bar- 
 barous or so savage, as to have (I will not say so many, but 
 even) one implacable enemy to his country. They were some 
 savage and ferocious beasts, born of monsters, and clothed in 
 human form. Look again and again, O judges ; for there is 
 nothing too violent to be said in such a cause as this. Look 
 deeply °and thoroughly into the minds of Catiline, Autronius, 
 Oethegus, Lentulus, and the rest. What lusts you will find 
 in these men, what crimes, what baseness, what audacity, what 
 incredible insanity, what marks of wickedness, what traces of 
 parricide, what heaps of enormous guilt ! Out of the great 
 diseases of the republic, diseases of long standing, which had 
 been given over as hopeless, suddenly that violence broke out ; 
 in such a way, that when it was put down and got rid of, the 
 state might again be able to become convalescent and to be 
 cured ; for there is no one who thinks that if those pests re- 
 mained in the republic, the constitution could continue to ex- 
 ist any longer. Therefore they were some Furies who urged 
 them on, not to complete their wickedness, but to atone to 
 the republic for their guilt by their punishment. 
 
 XXVIII. Will you then, O judges, now turn back Publius 
 Sylla into this band of rascals, out of that band of honorable 
 men who are living and have lived as his associates? Will 
 you transfer him from this body of citizens, and from the fa- 
 miliar dignity in which he lives with them, to the party of 
 impious men, to that crew and company of parricides ? What 
 then will become of that most impregnable defense of modes- 
 ty % in what respect will the purity of our past lives be of any 
 use to us? For what time is the reward of the character 
 which a man has gained to be reserved, if it is to desert him 
 at his utmost need, and when he is engaged in a contest in 
 which all his fortunes are at stake — if it is not to stand by 
 him and help him at such a crisis as this? Our prosecutor 
 threatens us with the examinations and torture of our slaves ; 
 and though we do not suspect that any danger can arise to 
 us from them, yet pain reigns in those tortures; much de- 
 pends on the nature of every one's mind, and the fortitude of 
 a person's body. The inquisitor manages every thing ; caprice 
 
128 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 regulates much, hope corrupts them, fear disables them, so 
 that, in the straits in which they are placed, there is but little 
 room left for truth. 
 
 Is the life of Publius Sylla, then, to be put to the torture? 
 is it to be examined to see what lust is concealed beneath it? 
 whether any crime is lurking under it, or any cruelty, or any 
 audacity? There will be no mistake in our cause, O judges, 
 no obscurity, if the voice of his whole life, which ought to be 
 of the very greatest weight, is listened to by }ou. In tins 
 cause we fear no witness; we feel sure that. no one knows, or 
 has ever seen, or has ever heard any thing against us. But 
 still, if the consideration of the fortune of Publius Sylla has 
 no effect on you, O judges, let a regard for your own fortune 
 weigh with you. For this is of the greatest importance to 
 you who have lived in the greatest elegance and safety, that 
 the causes of honorable men should not be judged of accord- 
 ing to the caprice, or enmity, or worthlessness of the witness- 
 es ; but that in important investigations and sudden dangers, 
 the life of every man should be the most credible witness. 
 And do not you, O judges, abandon and expose it, stripped of 
 its arms, and defenseless, to envy and suspicion. Fortify the 
 common citadel of all good men, block up the ways of escape 
 resorted to by the wicked. Let that witness be of the great- 
 est weight in procuring either safety or punishment for a man, 
 which is the only one that, from its own intrinsic nature, can 
 with ease be thoroughly examined, and which can not be sud- 
 denly altered and remodeled. 
 
 XXIX. What? Shall this authority (for I must contin- 
 ually speak of that, though I will speak of it with timidity 
 and moderation) — shall, I say, this authority of mine, when 
 I have kept aloof from the cause of every one else accused 
 of this conspiracy, and have defended Sylla alone, be of no 
 service to my client? This is perhaps a bold thing to say, 
 O judges; a bold thing, if we are asking for any thing; a bold 
 thing, if, when every one else is silent about us, we will not 
 be silent ourselves. But if Ave are attacked, if we are ac- 
 cused, if we are sought to be rendered unpopular, then surely, 
 O judges, you will allow UP *0 retain our liberty, even if we 
 cas not quite retain all our digP'ty. All the men of consular 
 rank are accused at one swoop ; so that the name of the most 
 honorable office in the State appears now to cany with it 
 more unpopularity than dign?*)j s 'They stood by Catiline," 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 129 
 
 Bays he, "and praised him." At that time there was no 
 conspiracy known of or discovered. They were defending a 
 friend. They were giving their suppliant the countenance of 
 their presence. They did not think the moment of his most 
 imminent danger a lit time to reproach him with the infamy 
 of his life. Moreover, even your own father, O Torquatus, 
 when consul, was the advocate of Catiline when he was prose- 
 cuted on a charge of extortion : he knew he was a lad man, 
 but he was a suppliant ; perhaps he was an audacious man, 
 but he had once been his friend. And, as he stood by him 
 after information of that first conspiracy had been laid before 
 him, he showed that he had heard something about him, but 
 that he had not believed it. " But he did not countenance 
 him by his prec-ence at the other trial, when the rest did." If 
 he himself had afterward learned something of which he had 
 been ignorant when consul, still we must pardon those men 
 who had heard nothing since that time. But if the first ac- 
 cusation had weight, it ought not to have had more weight 
 when it was old than when it was fresh. But if your parent, 
 even wljen he was not without suspicion of danger to himself, 
 was still induced by pity to do honor to the defense of a most 
 worthless man by his curule chair, by his own private dig- 
 nity, and by that of his office as consul, then what reason 
 is there for reproaching the men of consular rank who gave 
 Catiline the countenance of their presence ? " Eut the same 
 men did not countenance those who were tried for their ac- 
 cession to this conspiracy before Sylla." Certainly not ; they 
 resolved that no aid, no assistance, no support ought to be 
 given by them to men implicated in such wickedness. And 
 that I may speak for a moment of their constancy and attach- 
 ment to the republic, whose silent virtue and loyalty bears 
 witness in behalf of every one of them, and needs no orna- 
 ments of language from any one — can any one say that any 
 time there were men of consular rank more virtuous, more 
 fearless, or more firm, than those who lived in these critical 
 and perilous times, in which the republic was nearly over- 
 whelmed ? Who of them did not, with the greatest openness, 
 and bravery, and earnestness, give his whole thoughts to the 
 common safety ? 2sor need I confine what I say to the men 
 of consular rank. For this credit is due to all those accom- 
 plished men who have been prastors, and indeed to the whole 
 senate in common ; so that it is plain that never, in the 
 
 F2 
 
130 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 memory of man, was there more virtue in that order, greater 
 attachment to the republic, or more consummate wisdom. 
 But because the men of consular rank were especially mention- 
 ed, I thought I ought to say thus much in their behalf; and 
 that that would be enough, as the recollection of all men would 
 join me in bearing witness, that there was not one man of that 
 rank who did not labor with all his virtue, and energy, and in- 
 fluence, to preserve the republic. 
 
 XXX. But what comes next 1 Do I, who never praised 
 Catiline, who never as consul countenanced Catiline when he 
 was on his trial, who have given evidence respecting the con 
 spiracy against others — do I seem to you so far removed fron 
 sanity, so forgetful of my own consistency, so forgetful of all 
 the exploits which I have performed, as, though as consul 
 I waged war against the conspirators, now to wish to pre- 
 serve their leader, and to bring my mind now to defend the 
 cause and the life of that same man whose weapon I lately 
 blunted, and whose flames I have but just extinguished? If, 
 O judges, the republic itself, which has been preserved by my 
 labors and dangers, did not by its dignity recall me to wis- 
 dom and consistency, still it is an instinct implanted by na- 
 ture, to hate forever the man whom you have once feared, 
 with whom you have contended for life and fortune, and from 
 whose plots you have escaped. But when my chief honors 
 and the great glory of all my exploits are at stake ; when, as 
 often as any one is convicted of any participation in this 
 wickedness, the recollection of the safety of the city having 
 been secured by me is renewed, shall I be so mad as to allow 
 those things which I did in behalf of the common safety to 
 appear now to have beeh done by me more by chance and by 
 good fortune than by virtue and wisdom ? " What, then, do 
 you mean ? Do you," some one will say, perhaps, " claim that 
 a man shall be judged innocent, just because you have de- 
 fended himf But I, O judges, not only claim nothing for 
 myself to which any one can object, but I even give up and 
 abandon pretensions which are granted and allowed me by 
 every one. I am not living in such a republic — I have 
 not exposed my life to all sorts of dangers for the sake of my 
 country at such a time — they whom 1 have defeated are not 
 so utterly extinct — nor are those whom I have preserved so 
 grateful, that I should think it safe to attempt to assume 
 more than all my enemies and enviers may endure. It would 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 131 
 
 appear an offensive thing for him who investigated the con- 
 spiracy, who laid it open, who crushed it, whom the senate 
 thanked in unprecedented language, to whom the senate de- 
 creed a supplication, which they had never decreed to any one 
 before for civil services, to say in a court of justice, "I would 
 not have defended him if he had been a conspirator." I do 
 not say that, because it might be offensive} I say this, which 
 in these trials relating to the, conspiracy I may claim a right 
 to say, speaking not with authority but with modesty, " I who 
 investigated and chastised that conspiracy would certainly not 
 defend Sylla, if I thought that he had been a conspirator." 
 I, O judges, say this, which I said at the beginning, that when 
 I was making a thorough inquiry into those great dangers 
 which were threatening every body, when I was hearing many 
 things, not believing every thing, but guarding against every 
 thing, not one word was said to me by any one who gave 
 information, nor did any one hint any suspicion, nor was 
 there the slightest mention in any one's letters, of Publius 
 Sylla. 
 
 XXXI. Wherefore I call you, O gods of my country and 
 of my household, to witness — you who preside over this city 
 and this empire — you who have preserved this empire, and 
 these our liberties, and the Roman people — you who by your 
 divine assistance protected these houses and temples when I 
 was consul — that I, with a free and honest heart, am defending 
 the cause of Publius Sylla ; that no crime has been concealed 
 by me knowingly, that no wickedness undertaken against the 
 general safety has been kept back or defended by me. I, when 
 consul, found out nothing about this man, 1 suspected nothing, 
 I heard of nothing. Therefore I, the same person who have 
 seemed to be vehement against some men, inexorable toward 
 the rest of the conspirators (I paid my country what I owed 
 her ; what I am now doing is due to my own invariable hab- 
 its and natural disposition), am as merciful, O judges, as you 
 yourselves. I am as gentle as the most soft-hearted among 
 you. As far as I was vehement in union with you, I did 
 nothing except what I was compelled to do : I came to the 
 assistance of the republic when in great danger ; I raised my 
 sinking country ; influenced by pity for the whole body of 
 citizens, we were then as severe as was necessary. The safety 
 of all men would have been lost forever in one night, if that 
 severity had not been exercised ; but as I was led on to the 
 
132 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 punishment of wicked men by my attachment to the republic, 
 so now I am led to secure the safety of the innocent by my 
 own inclination. 
 
 I see, O judges, that in this Publius Sylla there is nothing 
 worthy of hatred, and many circumstances deserving our pity. 
 For he does not now, O judges, flee to you as a suppliant for 
 the sake of warding off calamity from himself, but to prevent 
 his whole family and name from being branded with the 
 stigma of nefarious baseness. For as for himself, even if he 
 be acquitted by your decision, what honors has he, what 
 comforts has he for the rest of his life, in which he can find 
 delight or enjoyment'? His house, I suppose, will be adorned ; 
 the images of his ancestors will be displayed ; he himself will 
 resume his ornaments and his usual dress. All these things, 
 O judges, are lost to him ; all the insignia and ornaments of 
 his family, and his name, and his honor, were lost by the 
 calamity of that one decision. But he is anxious not to be 
 called the destroyer, the betrayer, the enemy of his country ; 
 he is fearful of leaving such disgrace to a family of such re- 
 nown ; he is anxious that this unhappy child may not be 
 called the son of a conspirator, a criminal, and a traitor. He 
 fears for this boy, who is much dearer to him than his own 
 life, anxious, though he can not leave him the undiminished 
 inheritance of his honors, at all events not to leave him the 
 undying recollection of his infamy. This little child entreats 
 you, O judges, to allow him occasionally to congratulate his 
 father, if not with his fortunes unimpaired, at least to con- 
 gratulate him in his affliction. The roads to the courts of 
 justice and to the forum are better known to that unhappy 
 boy, than the roads to his play-ground or to his school. 1 am 
 contending now, O judges, not for the life of Publius Sylla, 
 but for his burial. His life was taken from him at the former 
 trial ; we are now striving to prevent his body from being cast 
 out. For what has he left which need detain him in this life 1 ? 
 or what is there to make any one think such an existence life 
 at all ? 
 
 XXXII. Lately, Publius Sylla was a man of such considera- 
 tion in the state, that no one thought himself superior to him 
 either in honor, or in influence, or in good fortune, xsow, 
 stripped of all his dignity, he does not Beek to recover what 
 has been taken away from him ; but he docs entreat you, 
 judges, not to take from him the little which fortune has loft 
 
FOR P. SYLLA. 133 
 
 him in his disasters — namely, the permision to bewail his 
 calamities in company with his parent, with his children, with 
 his brother, and with his friends. It would be becoming for 
 even you yourself, O Torquatus, to be by this time satisfied 
 with the miseries of my client. Although you had taken no- 
 thing from Sylla except the consulship, yet you ought to be 
 content with that. For it was a contest for honor, and not 
 enmity, which originally induced you to take up this cause. 
 But now that, together with his honor, every thing else has 
 been taken from him — now that he is desolate, crushed by 
 this miserable and grievous fortune, what is there which you 
 can -wish for more ? Do you wish to deprive him of the en- 
 joyment of the light of day, full as it is to him of tears and 
 grief, in which he now lives amid the greatest grief and tor- 
 ment ? He would gladly give it up, if you would release him 
 from the foul imputation of this most odious crime. Do you 
 seek to banish him as an enemy, when, if you were really 
 hard-hearted, you ,would derive greater enjoyment from seeing 
 his miseries than from hearing of them? Oh, wretched and 
 unhappy was that day on which Publius Sylla was declared 
 consul by all the centuries ! O how false were the hopes ! how 
 fleeting the <rood fortune ! how blind the desire ! how unrea- 
 sonable the congratulations! Plow soon was all that scene 
 changed from joy and pleasure to mourning and tears, when 
 he, who but a short time before had been consul elect, had on 
 a sudden no trace left of his previous dignity. P'or what evil 
 was there which seemed then to be wanting to him when he 
 was thus stripped of honor, and fame, and fortune ? or what 
 room could there be left for any new calamity? The same 
 fortune continues to pursue him which followed him from the 
 first ; she finds a new source of grief for him ; she will not 
 allow an unfortunate man to perish when he has been afflicted 
 in only one way, and by only one disaster. 
 
 XXXIII. But now, O judges, I am hindered by my own 
 grief of mind from saying any more about the misery of 
 my client. That consideration belongs to you, O judges. 
 I rest the whole cause on your mercy and your humanity. 
 You, after a rejection of several judges, of which we had no 
 suspicion, have sat as judges suddenly appointed to hear our 
 cause, having been chosen by our accusers from their hopes of 
 your severity, but having been also given to us by fortune as 
 the protectors of our innocence. As I have been anxious as 
 
134 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 to what the Roman people thought of me, because I had been 
 severe toward wicked men, and so have undertaken the first 
 defense of an innocent man that was offered to me, so do you 
 also mitigate that severity of the courts of justice which has 
 been exerted now for some months against the most audacious 
 of men, by your lenity and mercy. The cause itself ought 
 to obtain this from you ; and besides, it is due to your virtue 
 and courage to show that you are not the men to whom it is 
 most advisable for an accuser to apply after having rejected 
 other judges. And in leaving the matter to your decision, O 
 judges, I exhort you, with all the earnestness that my affec- 
 tion for you warrants me in using, so to act that we, by our 
 common zeal (since we are united in, the service of the repub- 
 lic), and you, by your humanity and mercy, may repel fronv 
 us both the false charge of cruelty. 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO FOR A1^1a t S LICINIUS AR- 
 
 CHIAS, THE POET. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 \rchias was a Greek poet, a native of Antioch, who cam* to Rome in the 
 train of Lucullus, when -Cicero was a child. He assumed the names 
 of Aulus and Licinius, the last out of compliment to the Luculli, and 
 Cicero had been for some time a pupil of his, and had retained a great 
 regard for him. A man of the name of Gracclms now prosecuted him 
 as a false pretender to the rights of a Roman citizen, according to the 
 provisions of the lex Papiria. But Cicero contends that he is justified 
 by that very law, for Archias before coming to Rome had staid at 
 Heraclea, a confederate city, and had been enrolled as a Heraclean cit- 
 izen ; and in the lex Papiria it was expressly provided that those who 
 were on the register of any confederate city as its citizens, if they were 
 residing in Italy at the time the law was passed, and if they made a 
 return of themselves to the praetor within sixty days, were to be ex- 
 empt from its operation. However, the greatest part of this oration 
 is occupied, not in legal arguments, but in a panegyric on Archias, 
 who is believed to have died soon afterward ; and he must have been 
 a very old man at the time that it was spoken, as it was nearly forty 
 years previously that he had first come to Rome. 
 
 I. If there be any natural ability in me, O judges — and 
 I know how slight that is; or if I have any practice as a 
 speaker — and in that line I do not deny that 1 have some 
 
FOR A. L ARCHIAS. 135 
 
 experience ; or if I have any method in my oratory, drawn' 
 from my study of the liberal sciences, and from that careful 
 training to which I admit that at no part of my life have 
 I ever been disinclined ; certainly, of all those qualities, this 
 Aulus Licinius is entitled to be among the first to claim the 
 benefit from me as his peculiar right. For as far as ever my 
 mind can look back upon the space of time that is past, and 
 recall the memory of its earliest youth, tracing my life from 
 that starting-point, I see that Archias was the principal cause 
 of my undertaking, and the principal means of my mastering, 
 those studies. And if this voice of mine, formed by his en- 
 couragement and his precepts, has at times been the instru- 
 ment of safety to others, undoubtedly we ought, as far as lies 
 in our power, to help and save the very man from whom we 
 have received that gift which has enabled us to bring help to 
 many and salvation to some. And lest any one should, per- 
 chance, marvel at this being said by me, as the chief of his 
 ability consists in something else, and not in this system and 
 practice of eloquence, he must be told that even we our- 
 selves have never been wholly devoted to this study. In 
 truth, all the arts which concern the civilizing and human- 
 izing of men, have some link which bind.3 them together, 
 and are, as it were, connected by some relationship to one 
 another. 
 
 II. And, that it may not appear marvelous to any one of 
 you, that I, in a formal proceeding like this, and in a regular 
 court of justice, when an action is being tried before a prastor 
 of the Roman people, a most eminent man, and before most 
 impartial judges, before such an assembly and multitude of 
 people as I see around me, employ this style of speaking, 
 which is at variance, not only with the ordinary usages of 
 courts of justice, but with the general style of forensic plead- 
 ing; I entreat you in this cause to grant me this indulgence, 
 suitable to this defendant, and as I trust not disagreeable to 
 you — the indulgence, namely, of allowing me, when speak- 
 ing in defense of a most sublime poet and most learned 
 man, before this concourse of highly-educated citizens, be- 
 fore this most — lite and accomplished assembly, and before 
 such a praetor as him who is presiding at this trial, to enlai 
 with a little more freedom than usual on the study of polite 
 literature and refined arts, and. king in the character 
 
 of such a tl that, who, owing to the tranquillity of his 
 
136 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 life and the studies to which he has devoted himself, has but 
 little experience of the dangers of a court of justice, to employ 
 a new and unusual style of oratory. And if I feel that that 
 indulgence is given and allowed me by you, I will soon cause 
 you to think that this Aulus Licinius is a man who not only, 
 now that he is a citizen, does not deserve to be expunged from 
 the list of citizens, but that he is worthy, even if he were not 
 one, of being now made a citizen. 
 
 III. For when first Archias grew out of childhood, and 
 out of the studies of those arts by which young boys are 
 gradually trained and refined, he devoted himself to the 
 study of writing. First of all at Antioch (for he was born 
 there, and was of high rank there), formerly an illustrious 
 and wealthy city, and the seat of learned men and of liberal 
 sciences ; and there it was his lot speedily to show himself 
 superior to all in ability and credit. Afterward, in the other 
 parts of Asia, and over all Greece, his arrival was so talked of 
 wherever he came, that the anxiety with which he was ex- 
 pected was even greater than the fame of his genius ; but 
 the admiration which he excited when he had arrived, ex- 
 ceeded even the anxiety with which he was expected. Italy 
 was at that time full of Greek science and of Greek systems, 
 and these studies were at that time cultivated in Latium with 
 greater zeal than they now are in the same towns ; and here 
 too at Rome, on account of the tranquil state of the republic 
 at that time, they were far from neglected. Therefore, the 
 people of Tarentum, and Rhegium, and Neapolis, presented 
 him with the freedom of the city and with other gifts ; and 
 all men who were capable of judging of genius thought him 
 deserving of their acquaintance and hospitality. When, from 
 this great celebrity of his, he had become known to - u s ±t> 
 though -absent, he came to Rome, in the consulship of Marius^^ 
 and Catulus. It was his lot to have those men as his first 
 consuls, the one of whom could supply him with the most il- 
 lustrious achievements to Avrite about, the other could give 
 him, not only exploits to celebrate, but his ears and judicious 
 attention. Immediately the Luculli, though Archias was as 
 yet but a youth, 1 received him in their house. But it was not 
 
 1 The Latin is pratcxtatus. Before he had exchanged the prcttcxta foi 
 the toga vinlts. it has generally been thought that the age at \\ hich this 
 exchange was made was seventeen, but Professor Long, the highest pos- 
 sible authority on all subjects of Latin literature, and especia"y on Re 
 
FOR A. L. ARCHIAS. I57 
 
 only to his genius and his learning, but also to his natural 
 disposition and virtue, that it must be attributed that the 
 house which was the first to be opened to him in his youth, is 
 also the one in which he lives most familiarly in his old ap;e. 
 He at that time gained the affection of Quintus Metcllus, 
 that great man who was the conqueror of Numidia, and his 
 son Pius. He was eagerly listened to by Marcus iEmilius; 
 he associated with Quintus Catulus — both with the father and 
 the sons. He was highly respected by Lucius Crassus; and 
 as for the Luculli, and Drusus, and the Octavii, and Cato, and 
 the whole family of the Hortensii, he was on terms of the 
 greatest possible intimacy with all of them, and was held by 
 thein in the greatest honor. For, not only did ever}' one 
 cultivate his acquaintance who wished to learn or to hear 
 any thing, but even every one pretended to have such a 
 desire. 
 
 IV. In the mean time, after a sufficiently long interval, 
 having gone with Lucius Lucullus into Sicily, and having 
 afterward departed from that province in the company of the 
 same Lucullus, he came to Heraclea. And as that city was 
 one which enjoyed all the rights of a confederate city to their 
 full extent, he became desirous of being enrolled as a citizen 
 of it. And, being thought deserving of such a favor for his 
 own sake, when aided by the influence and authority of 
 Lucullus, he easily obtained it from the Heracleans. The 
 freedom of the city was given him in accordance with the 
 provisions of the law of Silvanus and Carbo : " If any men 
 had been enrolled as citizens of the confederate cities, and if, 
 at the time that the law was passed, they had a residence in 
 Italy, and if within sixty days they had made a return of 
 themselves to the praetor." As he had now had a residence 
 at Eome for many years, he returned himself as a citizen to 
 the praetor, Quintus Metellus, his most intimate friend. If 
 
 man law, says (Smith, Diet. Ant. v. Impnbcs), " The toga virilis was as- 
 sumed at the Liberalia in the month of March ; and though no age ap- 
 pears to have been positively fixed for the ceremony, it probably took 
 place, as a general rule, on the feast which next followed the completion 
 of the fourteenth year, though it is certain that the completion of the 
 fourteenth year was not always the time observed.'" Even supposing 
 Archias to have been seventeen, it appear-; ra f her an early ^<^ for him to 
 have established such a reputation as Cicero sp .and]; as 
 
 not being at that time a Roman citizen, he probably did not wear the 
 ■pratcxta at all; the expression is not to b< iiteraitv, but we zct 
 
 merely to understand generally that he was quite a young man 
 
138 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 we have nothing else to speak about except the rights of citi- 
 zenship and the law, I need say no more. The cause is over. 
 For which of all these statements, O Gratius, can be inval- 
 idated? Will you deny that lie was enrolled, at the time I 
 speak of, as a citizen of Heraclea? There is a man present 
 of the very highest authority, a most scrupulous and truthful 
 man, Lucius Lucullus, who will tell you not that he thinks it, 
 but that he knows it ; not that he has heard of it, but that he 
 saw it ; not even that he was present when it was done, but 
 that he actually did it himself. Deputies from Heraclea are 
 present, men of the highest rank ; they have come expressly 
 on account of this trial, with a commission from their city, and 
 to give evidence on the part of their city ; and they say that 
 he was enrolled as a Heraclean. On this you ask for the pub- 
 lic registers of the Heracleans, which we all know were de- 
 stroyed in the Italian war, when the register-office was burned. 
 It is ridiculous to say nothing to the proofs which we have, 
 but to ask for proofs which it is impossible for us to have ; to 
 disregard the recollection of men, and to appeal to the mem- 
 ory of documents ; and when you have the conscientious evi- 
 dence of a most honorable man, the oath and good faith of a 
 most respectable municipality, to reject those things which can 
 not by any possibility be tampered with, and to demand docu- 
 mentary evidence, though you say at the same moment that 
 that is constantly played tricks with. " But he had no res- 
 idence at Rome." What, not he who for so many years 
 before the freedom of the city was given to him, had estab- 
 lished the abode of all his property and fortunes at Rome? 
 " But he did not return himself." Indeed he did, and in that 
 return which alone obtains with the college of praetors the au- 
 thority of a public document. 
 
 V. For as the returns of Appius were said to have been 
 kept carelessly, and as the trilling conduct of Gabinius, before 
 he was convicted, and his misfortune after his condemnation, 
 had taken away all credit from the public registers, Metellus, 
 the most scrupulous and moderate of all men, was so careful, 
 that he came to Lucius Lentulus, the praetor, and to the 
 judges, and said that he was greatly vexed at an erasure which 
 appeared in one name. In these documents, therefore, you 
 will see no erasure affecting the name of Aulus Licinius. And 
 as this is the case, what reason have you for doubting about 
 hi* citizenship, especially as he was enrolled as a citizen of 
 
FOR A. L. ARCHIAS. 139 
 
 other cities also"? In truth, as men in Greece were in the 
 
 it of giving rights of citizenship to many men of vei 
 ordinary quahhcations, and endowed with no talents at an, or 
 with very moderate ones, without any payment, it is likely, I 
 suppose, that the Rhegians, and Locrians, and Neapolitans, 
 and Tarentines should have been unwilling to give to this 
 man, enjoying the highest possible reputation for genius, what 
 they were in the habit of giving even to theatrical artists. 
 What, when other men, who not only after the freedom of the 
 city had been given, but even after the passing of the Papian 
 law, crept somehow or other into the registers of those munic- 
 ipalities, shall he be rejected who does not avail himself of 
 those other lists in which he is enrolled, because he always 
 wished to be considered a Heraclean? You demand to see 
 our own censor's returns. I suppose no one knows that at 
 the time of the last census lie was with that most illustrious 
 general, Lucius Lucullus, with the army ; that at the time of 
 the preceding one he was with the same man when he was in 
 Asia as qurestor; and that in the census before that, when 
 Julius and Crassus were censors, no regular account of the 
 people was taken. But, since the census does not confirm 
 the right of citizenship, but only indicates that he, who is 
 returned in the census, did at that time claim to be considered 
 as a citizen, I say that, at that time, when you say, in your 
 speech for the prosecution, that be did not even himself con- 
 sider that he had any claim to the privileges of a Roman 
 citizen, he more than once made a will according to our laws, 
 and he entered upon inheritances left him by Roman citizens; 
 and he was made honorable mention of by Lucius Lucullus, 
 both as praetor and as consul, in the archives kept in the 
 treasury. 
 
 VI. You must rely wholly on what arguments you can find. 
 For he will never be convicted either by his own opinion of 
 his case, or by that which is formed of it by his friends. 
 ^ You ask us, O Gratius, why we are so exceedingly attached 
 to this man. Because he supplies us with food whereby our 
 mind is refreshed after this noise in the forum, and with rest 
 for our ears after they have been wearied with bad language. 
 Do you think it possible that we could find a supply for our 
 daily speeches, when discussing such a variety of matters, 
 unless we were to cultivate our minds by the study of litera- 
 * "\re ; or that our minds could bear being kept so constantly 
 
140 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 on the stretch if we did not relax them by that same study? 
 But I confess that I am devoted to those studies ; let others 
 be ashamed of them if they have buried themselves in books 
 without being able to produce any thing out of them for the 
 common advantage, or any thing which may bear the eyes of 
 men and the light. ! But why need I be ashamed, who for 
 many years have lived in such a manner as never to allow my 
 own love of tranquillity to deny me to the necessity or ad- 
 vantage of another, or my fondness for pleasure to distract, or 
 even sleep to delay my attention to such claims? Who then 
 can reproach me, or who has any right to be angry with me, 
 if I allow myself as much time for the cultivation of these 
 studies as some take for the performance of their own busi- 
 ness, or for celebrating days of festival and games, or for other 
 pleasures, or even for the rest and refreshment of mind and 
 body, or as others devote to early banquets, to playing at dice, 
 or at ball? And this ought to be permitted to me, because 
 by these studies my power of speaking and those faculties are 
 improved, which,- as far as they do exist in me, have never 
 been denied to my friends when they have been in peril. And 
 if that ability appears to any one to be but moderate, at all 
 events I know whence I derive those principles which are of 
 the greatest value. For if I had not persuaded myself from 
 my youth upward, both by the precepts of many masters and 
 by much reading, that there is nothing in life greatly to be de- 
 sired, except praise and honor, and that while pursuing those 
 things all tortures of the body, all dangers of death and ban- 
 ishment are to be considered but of small importance, I should 
 never have exposed myself, in defense of your safety, to such 
 numerous and arduous contests, and to these daily attacks of 
 profligate men. : But all books are full of such precepts, and 
 all the sayings of philosophers, and all antiquity is full of pre- 
 cedents teaching the same lesson ; but all these things would lie 
 buried in darkness, if the light of literature and learning were 
 not applied to them. How many images of the brayest men, 
 carefully elaborated, have both the Greek and Latin writers 
 bequeathed to us, not merely for us to look at and gaze upon, 
 but also for our imitation! And I, always keeping them be- 
 fore' my eyes as examples for my own public conduct, have 
 endeavored to model my mind and views by continually think- 
 ing of those excellent men. 
 
 Vll. Some one will ask, "Whatl were those identical 
 
FOR A. L. ARCHIAS. 141 
 
 great men, whose virtues have been recorded in books, accom- 
 plished in all that learning which you are extolling so highly f 
 It is difficult to assert this of all of them ; but still I know 
 what answer I can make to that question : I admit that many 
 men have existed of admirable disposition and virtue, who, 
 without learning, by the almost divine instinct of their own 
 mere nature, have been, of their own accord, as it were, mod- 
 erate and wise men. I even add this, that very often nature 
 without learning has had more to do with leading men to 
 credit and to virtue, than learning when not assisted by a 
 good natural disposition. And I also contend, that when to 
 an excellent and admirable natural disposition there is added 
 a ceTtain system and training of education, then from that 
 combination arises an extraordinary perfection of character u 
 such as is seen in that god-like /nan, whom our fathers saw 
 in their time, Africanus ; and in Caius Laelius and Lucius 
 Furius, most virtuous 'and moderate men ; and in that most 
 excellent man, the most learned man of his time, Marcus Cato 
 the- elder ; and all these men, if they had been to derive no 
 assistance from literature in the cultivation and practice of 
 virtue, would never have applied themselves to the study of 
 it. \ Though, even if there were no such "great advantage to 
 be Neaped from it, and if it were; only pleasure that is sought 
 from these studies, still I imagine you would consider it a 
 most reasonable and liberal employment of the mind : for 
 other occupations are not suited to every time, nor to every 
 age or place ; but these studies are the food of youth, the 
 delight of old age; the ornament of prosperity, the refuge 
 omfort of adversity ; a delight at home, and no hinderance 
 \ ; they are companions by night, and in travel, and in 
 ntry. 
 And if we ourselves were not able to arrive at these 
 egj nor even taste them with our senses, still we 
 admire them, even when we saw them in others, 
 was of so ignorant and brutal a disposition as not 
 grieved at the death of Eoscius 1 who, though he 
 aan when he died, yet, on account of the excel- 
 uty of his art, appeared to be one who on every 
 Rgr & *t i not to have died. Therefore, had he by the 
 
 GftStW*^^ body gained so much of our affections, and 
 1\S,'d the incredible movements of the mind, and 
 ms of genius ? How often have I seen this 
 
142 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 man Archias, O judges (for I will take advantage of your kind- 
 ness, since you listen to me so attentively while speaking in 
 this unusual manner) — how often have I seen him, when ha 
 had not written a single word, repeat extempore a great num- 
 ber of admirable verses on the very events which were passing 
 at the moment ! How often have I seen him go back, and 
 describe the same thing over again with an entire change of 
 language and ideas ! And what he wrote with care and with 
 much thought, that I have seen admired to such a degree, as 
 to equal the credit of even the writings of the ancients. 
 Should not I, then, love this man ? should I not admire him ? 
 should not I think it my duty to defend him in every possible 
 way? And, indeed, we have constantly heard from men of 
 the greatest eminence and learning, that the study of other 
 sciences was made up of learning, and rules, and regular 
 method ; but that a poet was such by the unassisted work of 
 nature, and was moved by the vigor of his own mind, and 
 was inspired, as it were, by some divine wrath. Wherefore 
 rightly does our ow* great Ennius call poets holy ; because 
 they seem to be recommended to us by some especial gift, as 
 it were, and liberality of the gods. Let then, judges, this 
 name of poet, this name which no barbarians even have ever 
 disregarded, be holy in your eyes, men of cultivated minds as 
 you all are. Rocks and deserts reply to the poet's voice ; sav- 
 age beasts are often moved and arrested by song : and shall 
 we, who have been trained in the pursuit of the most virtuous 
 acts, refuse to be swayed by the voice of poets ? The Colo- 
 phonians say that Homer was their citizen ; the Chians claim 
 him as theirs ; the Salaminians assert their right to him ; but 
 the men of Smyrna loudly assert him to be a citizen of Smyrna, 
 a id they have even raised a temple to him in their city. Many 
 other places also fight with one another for the honor of being 
 his birth-place. 
 
 IX. They, then, claim a stranger, even after his death, 
 because he was a poet ; shall we reject this man while he 
 alive, a man who by his own inclination and by our laws d* 
 actually belong to us "? especially when Archias has emplr j t c t 
 all his genius with the utmost zeal in celebrating the ajtrv^ 
 and renown of the Roman people ? For when a young m Ha 
 he touched on our wars against the Cimbri, and gair*cr\ 
 favor even of Caius Marius himself, a man who was t« 
 proof against this sort of study. For there was no * t. 
 
FOR A. L. ARCHIAS. 143 
 
 disinclined to the Muses as not willingly to endure that the 
 praise of his labors should be made immortal by means of 
 verse. (They say that the great Themistocles, the greatest 
 man that Athens produced, said, when some one asked him 
 what sound or whose voice he took the greatest delight in 
 hearing, " The voice of that by whom his own exploits were 
 best celebrated." Therefore, the great Marius was also ex- 
 ceedingly attached to Lucius Plotius, because he thought 
 that the achievement which he had performed could be cele- 
 brated by his genius. And the whole Mithridatic war, great 
 and difficult as it was, and carried on with so much diversity 
 of fortune by land and sea, has been related at length by him ; 
 and the books in which that is sung of, not only make illus- 
 trious Lucius Lucullus, that most gallant and celebrated man, 
 but they do honor also to the Roman people. For, while 
 Lucullus was general, the Roman people opened Pontus, 
 though it was defended both by the resources of the king and 
 by the character of the country itself. Under the same gen- 
 eral the army of the Roman people, with no very great num- 
 bers, routed the countless hosts of the Armenians. It is the 
 glory of the Roman people that, by the wisdom of that 
 same general, the city of the Cyzicenes, most friendly to 
 us, was delivered and preserved from all the attacks of the 
 kind, and from the very jaws as it were of the whole war. 
 Ours is the glory which will be forever celebrated, which 
 is derived from the fleet of the enemy which was sunk 
 after its admirals had been slain, and from the marvelous 
 naval battle off Tenedos: those trophies belong to us v those 
 monuments are ours, those triumphs are ours. Therefore, 
 I say that the men by whose genius these exploits are cele- 
 brated, make illustrious at the same time the glory of the 
 Roman people. Our countryman, Ennius, was dear to the 
 elder Africanus'; and even on the tomb of the Scipios his 
 effigy is believed to be visible, carved in the marble. But un- 
 doubtedly it is not only the men who are themselves praised 
 who are done honor to by those praises, but the name of the 
 Roman people also is adorned by them. Cato, the ancestor 
 of this Cato, is extolled to the skies. Great honor is paid to 
 the exploits of th^ Roman people. Lastly, all those great 
 men, the Maximi, the Marcelli, and the Fulvii, are done 
 honor to, not without all of us having also a share in tha 
 panegyric 
 
144 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 X. Therefore our ancestors received the man who was the 
 cause of all this, a man of Kucha?, into their city as a citizen ; 
 and shall we reject from our city a man of Heraclea, a man 
 sought by many cities, and made a citizen of ours by these 
 very laws? 
 
 For if any one thinks that there is a smaller gain of glory 
 derived from Greek verses than from Latin ones, he is greatly 
 mistaken, because Greek poetry is read among all nations, 
 Latin is confined to its own natural limits, which arc narrow 
 enough. Wherefore, if those achievements which we have 
 performed are limited only by the bounds of the whole world, 
 we ought to desire that, wherever our vigor and our arms 
 have penetrated, our glory and our fame should likewise ex- 
 tend. Because, as this is always an ample reward for those 
 people whose achievements are the subject of writings, so 
 especially is it the greatest inducement to encounter labors 
 and dangers to all men who fight for themselves for the sake 
 of glory. How many historians of his exploits is Alexander 
 the Great said to have had with him ; and he, when standing 
 on Cape Sigeum at the grave of Achilles, said, " O happy 
 youth, to find Homer as the panegyrist of your glory!" And 
 he said the truth ; for, if the Iliad had not existed, the same 
 tomb which covered his body would have also buried his 
 renown. What, did not our own Magnus, whose valor has 
 been equal to his fortune, present Theophanes the Mitylena?an, 
 a relater of his actions, with the freedom of the city in an as- 
 sembly of the soldiers'? And those brave men, our country- 
 men, soldiers and country-bred men as they were, still being 
 moved by the sweetness of glory, as if they were to some ex- 
 tent partakers of the same renown, showed their approbation 
 of that action with a great shout. Therefore, I suppose, if 
 Archias were not a Roman citizen according to the laws, he 
 could not have contrived to get presented with the freedom 
 of the city by some general ! Sylla, when he was giving it to 
 the Spaniards and Gauls, would, I suppose, have refused him 
 if he had asked for it! a man whom we ourselves saw in the 
 public assembly, when a bad poet of the common people had 
 put a book in his hand, because he had made an epigram on 
 him with every other verse too long, immediately ordered 
 some of the things which he was selling at the moment to 
 be given him as a reward, on condition of not writing any 
 thing more about him for the future. Would not he who 
 
FOR A. L. ARCHIAS. 145 
 
 thought the industry of a bad poet still worthy of some reward, 
 have sought out the genius, and excellence, and copiousness in 
 writing of this man ? What more need I say ! Could he not 
 have obtained the freedom of the city from Quintus Metellus 
 Pius, his own most intimate friend, who gave it to many men, 
 either by his own request, or by the intervention of the Lucul- 
 li ? especially when Metellus was so anxious to have his own 
 deeds celebrated in writing, that he gave his attention willing?- 
 ly to poets born even at Cordova, whose poetry had a very 
 heavy and foreign flavor. 
 
 XL For this should not be concealed, which can not possibly 
 be kept in the dark, but it might be avowed openly: we are 
 all influenced by a desire of praise, and the best men are the 
 most especially attracted by glory. Those very philosophers 
 even in the books which they write about despising glory, put 
 their own names on the title-page. In the very act of record- 
 ing their contempt for renown and notoriety, they desire to 
 have their own names known and talked of. Decimus Brutus, 
 that most excellent citizen and consummate general, adorned 
 the approaches to his temples and monuments with the verses 
 of Attius. And lately that great man Fulvius, who fought 
 with the iEtolians, having Ennius for his companion, did not 
 hesitate to devote the spoils of Mars to the Muses. Where- 
 fore, in a city in which generals, almost in arms, have paid 
 respect to the name of poets and to the temples of the Muses, 
 these judges in the garb of peace ought not to act in a manner 
 inconsistent with the honor of the Muses and the safety of 
 — -poets. 
 
 And that you may do that the more willingly, I will now 
 reveal my own feelings to you, O judges, and I will .make a 
 confession to you of my own love of glory — too eager perhap , 
 but still honorable. For this man has in his verses touched 
 upon and begun the celebration of the deeds which we in our 
 consulship did in union with you, for the safety of this city 
 and empire, and in defense of the life of the citizens and of 
 the whole republic. And when I had heard his commence- 
 ment, because it appeared to me to be a great subject and at 
 the same time an agreeable one, I encouraged him to complete 
 his work. For virtue seeks no other 1 1 for its labors 
 
 and its dangers beyond that of praise and renown ; and if 
 that be denied to it, what reason is there, O judges, why in so 
 small and brief a course of life as is allotted to us, we should 
 
 G 
 
146 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 
 impose such labors on ourselves? Certainly, if the mind 
 had no anticipations of posterity, and if it were to confine all 
 its thoughts within the same limits as those by which the 
 space of our lives is bounded, it would neither break itself 
 with such severe labors, nor would it be tormented with 
 such carts and sleepless anxiety, nor would it so often have to 
 fight for its very life. At present there is a certain virtue in 
 every good man, which night and day stirs up the mind with 
 the stimulus of glory, and reminds it that all mention of our 
 name will not cease at the same time with our lives, but that 
 our fame will endure to all posterity. 
 
 XII. Do we all who are occupied in the affairs of the state, 
 and who are surrounded by such perils and dangers in life, ap- 
 pear to be so narrow-minded, as, though to the last moment 
 of our lives we have never passed one tranquil or easy mo- 
 ot, to think that every thing will perish at the same time 
 as ourselves? Ought we not, when many most illustrious 
 men have with great care collected and left behind them 
 statues and images, representations not of their minds but of 
 their bodies, much more to desire to leave behind us a copy 
 of our counsels and of our virtues, wrought and elaborated 
 by the greatest genius? I thought, at the very moment of 
 performing them, that I was scattering and disseminating all 
 deeds which I was performing, all over the world for the 
 
 .il recollection of nations. And whether that delight is 
 
 to be denied to my sou] after death, or whether, as the wisest 
 men have thought, it will affect some portion of my spirit, at 
 all events, I am at present delighted with some such idea and 
 hope. 
 
 Preserve then, O judges, a man of such virtue as that of 
 Ai which you see testified to you not only by the worth 
 
 of his friends, but by the length of time during which they 
 have been such to him ; and of such genius as you ought to 
 think is his, when you see that it has been sought by most 
 illustrious men. And his cause is one which is approved of 
 by the benevolence of the law, by the authority of his muni- 
 cipality, by the testimony of Lucullus, and by the docuinent- 
 3 of Metellus. And as this is the case, we do en- 
 tr« U, O judges, if there may be any weight attached, I 
 
 Will not saj to human, but even to divine recommendation in 
 such important matters, to receive under your protection that 
 man who lias at all times done honor to your generals an J 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 147 
 
 to the exploits of the Koman people, — who even in these re- 
 cent perils of our own, and in your domestic dangers, promises 
 to give an eternal testimony of praise in our favor, and who 
 forms one of that band of poets who have at all times and in 
 all nations been considered and called holy, so that he may 
 seem relieved by your humanity, rather than overwhelmed by 
 your severity. 
 
 The things which, according to my custom, I have said 
 briefly and simply, O judges, I trust have been approved by 
 all of you. Those things which I have spoken, without re- 
 garding the habits of the forum or judicial usage, both con- 
 cerning the genius of the man and my own zeal in his behalf, 
 I trust have been received by you in good part. That they 
 have been so by him who presides at this trial, I am quite 
 certain. 
 
 L 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF THE PRO- 
 POSED MANILIAN LAW. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 In the year b.c. 67, Aulus Gabinius had obtained the passing of a decree 
 by which Pompey was invested for three years with the supreme com- 
 mand over all the Mediterranean, and over all the coasts of that sea, to 
 a distance of four hundred furlongs from the sea. And in this com- 
 mand he had acted with great vigor and with complete success ; de- 
 stroying all the pirates' strongholds, and distributing the men themselves 
 as colonists among the inland towns of Asia Minor and Greece. After 
 this achievement he did not return to Rome, but remained in Asia, 
 making various regulations for the towns which he had conquered. 
 
 During this period Lucullus had been prosecuting the war against Mith- 
 ridates, and proceeding gradually in the reduction of Pontus ; he had 
 penetrated also into Mesopotamia, but had subsequently been distress- 
 ed by seditions in his army, excited by Clodius, his brother-in-law ; 
 and these seditions had given fresh courage to Mithridates, who had 
 fallen on Caius Triarius, one of his lieutenants, and routed his army 
 with great slaughter. At the time that Pompey commenced his cam- 
 ign against t le pirates, the consul Marcus Aquillius Glabrio was sent 
 to supersede Lucullus in his command ; but he was perfectly incompe- 
 tent to oppose Mithridates, who seemed likely with such an enemy to 
 recover all the power of which Lucullus had deprived him. So in the 
 3'-ear B.C. C>F>, while Glabrio was still in Bithynia, and Pompey in Asia 
 Minor, Caius Manilius, a tribune of the people, brought forward a prop- 
 
148 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 osition, that, in addition to the command which Pompey already pos- 
 sessed, he should be invested with unlimited power in Bithynia, Pon- 
 tus, and Armenia, for the purpose of conducting the war against -Mith- 
 ridates. The measure was strongly opposed by CatulUs and by Hor- 
 tensius, but it was supported by Caesar, and by Cicero in the following 
 speech, which is the first which he ever addressed to the people ; and 
 the proposition was carried. 
 
 I. Although, O Romans, your numerous assembly has al- 
 ways seemed to me the most agreeable body that any one can 
 address, and this place, which is most honorable to plead in, 
 has also seemed always the most distinguished place for de- 
 livering an oration in, still I have been prevented from trying 
 this road to glory, which has at ail times been entirely open 
 to every virtuous man, not indeed by my own will, but by the 
 system* of life which I have adopted from my earliest years. 
 For as hitherto I have' not dared, on account of my youth, to 
 intrude upon the authority of this place, and as I considered 
 that no arguments out to be brought to this place except such 
 as were the fruit of great ability, and worked up with the 
 greatest industry, I have thought it fit to devote all my time 
 to the necessities of my friends. And accordingly, this place 
 has never been unoccupied by men who were defending your 
 cause, and my industry, which has been virtuously and hon- 
 estly employed about the dangers of private individuals, has 
 received its most honorable reward in your approbation. 
 For when, on account of the adjournment of the comitia, I 
 was three times elected the first praetor by all the centuries, I 
 easily perceived, O Romans, what your opinion of me was, 
 and what conduct you enjoined to others. Now, when there 
 is that authority in me which you, by conferring honors on 
 me, have chosen that there should be, and all that facility, in 
 pleading which almost daily practice in speaking can give a 
 vigilant man who has habituated himself to the forum, at all 
 events, if I have any authority, I will employ it before those 
 who have given it to me ; and if I can accomplish any thing 
 by speaking, I will display it to those men above all others, 
 who have thought fit, by their decision, to confer honors on 
 that qualification. And, above all things, I see that I have 
 reason to rejoice on this account, that, since I am speaking in 
 this place, to which I am so entirely unaccustomed, I have a 
 cause to advocate in which eloquence can hardly fail any one; 
 for I have to speak of the eminent and extraordinary virtue 
 of Cnceus Pompey ; and it is harder for me to find out how to 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 140 
 
 end a discourse on such a "subject, than how to begin one. So 
 that what I have to seek for is not so much a variety of argu- 
 ments, as moderation in employing thein^^c 
 
 II. And, that my oration ma y take its ^ork-in from the same 
 pource from which all this cause is to be maintained ; an im- 
 portant war, and one perilous to your revenues and to your 
 allies, is being waged against you by two most powerful kings, 
 Mithridates and Tigranes. One of these having been left to- 
 himself, and the other having been attacked, thinks that as 
 opportunity offers itself to him to occupy all Asia. Letters 
 are brought from Asia every day to Roman knights, most 
 honorable men, who have great property at stake, which is all 
 employed in the collection of your revenues ; and they, in con- 
 sequence of the intimate connection which I have with their 
 order, have come to me and intrusted me with the task of 
 pleading the cause of the republic, and warding off danger 
 from their private fortunes. Theji say that many of the vil- 
 lages of Bithynia, which is at present a province belonging to 
 you, have been burnt ; that the kingdom of Ariobarzanes, 
 which borders on those districts from which you derive a reve- 
 nue, is wholly in the power of the enemy ; that Lucullus, aftei- 
 having performed great exploits, is departing from that war $ 
 that it is not enough that whoever succeeds him should be 
 prepared for the conduct of so important a war ; that one 
 general is demanded and required b^all men, both allies and 
 citizens, for that war ; that he alone is feared by the enemy, 
 and that no one else is. 
 
 You see what the case is ; now consider what you ought 
 to do. It seems to me that I ought to speak in the first 
 place of the sort of war that exists ; in the second place, of 
 its importance ; and lastly, of the selection of a general. The 
 kind of war is such as ought above all others to excite and 
 inflame your minds to a determination to persevere in it. It 
 is a war in which the glory of the Koman people is at stake ; 
 that glory which has been handed down to you from your an- 
 cestors, great indeed in every thing, but most especially in mil- 
 itary affairs. The safety of our friends and allies is at stake, 
 in behalf of which your ancestors have Waged many most im> 
 portant wars. The most certain and the largest revenues of 
 the Roman people are at stake ; and if they be lost, you will 
 be at a loss for the luxuries of peace, and the sinews of war. 
 The property of many citizens is at stake, which yo" ought 
 
150 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 greatly to regard, both for jour own sake, and for that of the 
 republic. 
 
 III. And since you have at all times been covetous of glory 
 and greedy of praise beyond all other nations, you have to 
 wipe out that stain, received in the former Mithridatic War, 
 which has now fixed itself deeply and eaten its way into the 
 Roman name, the stain arising from the fact that he, who in 
 one day marked down by one order, and one single letter, all 
 the Roman citizens in all Asia, scattered as they were over 
 so many cities, for slaughter and butchery, has not only never 
 yet suffered any chastisement worthy of his wickedness, but 
 now, twenty-three years after that time, is still a king, and 
 a king in such a way that he is not content to hide himself 
 in Pontus, or in the recesses of Cappadocia, but he seeks to 
 emerge from his hereditary kingdom, and to range among 
 your revenues, in the broad light of Asia. Indeed up to this 
 time your generals have baen contending with the king so as 
 to carry off* tokens of victory rather than actual victory. Lu- 
 cius Sylla has triumphed, Lucius Murena has triumphed over 
 Mithridates, two most gallant men, and most consummate 
 generals ; but yet they- have triumphed in such a way that 
 he, though routed and defeated, was still king. Rot but what 
 praise is to be given to those generals for what they did. Par- 
 don must be conceded to them for what they left undone ; be- 
 cause the republic recalled Sylla from that war into Italy, and 
 Sylla recalled Murena. 
 * IV. But Mithridates employed all the time which he had 
 \eft to him, not in forgetting the old war, but in preparing for 
 a new one ; and, after he had built and equipped very large 
 fleets, and had got together mighty armies from every nation 
 he could, and had pretended to be preparing war against the 
 tribes of the Bosphorus, his neighbors, sent embassadors and 
 letters as far as Spain to those chiefs with whom we were at 
 war at the time, in order thatias you would by that means 
 have war waged against you irk the two parts of the world 
 the farthest separated and most remote of all from one an- 
 other, by two separate enemies warring against you with one 
 uniform plan, you, hampered by the double enmity, might 
 find that you were fighting for the empire itself. However, 
 the danger on one side, the danger from ScrtoriHs and from. 
 Spain, which had much the most solid foundation and the 
 most formidable strength, was warded off by the divine wis- 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 151 
 
 dom and extraordinary valor of Cnaeus Pompcius. And on 
 the other side of the empire, affairs wore so managed by Lu- 
 cius Lucullus, that most illustrious of men, that the begin- 
 ning of all those achievements in those countries, great and 
 eminent as they were, deserve to be attributed not to his 
 good fortune but to his valor; but the latter events which 
 have taken place lately, ought to be imputed not to his fault, 
 but to his ill-fortune. However, of Lucullus I will speak 
 hereafter, and I will speak, O Eomans, in such a manner, 
 that his true glory shall not appear to be at all disparaged by 
 my pleading, nor, on the other hand, shall any undeserved 
 credit seem to be given to him. At present, when we are 
 speaking of the dignity and glory of your empire, since that 
 is the beginning of my oration, consider what feelings you 
 think you ought to entertain. 
 
 V. Your ancestors have often waged war on account of 
 their merchants and seafaring men having been injuriously 
 treated. What ought to be your feelings when so many thou- 
 sand Roman citizens have been put to death by one order and 
 at one time? Because their embassadors had been spoken to 
 with insolence, your ancestors determined that Corinth, the 
 light of all Greece, should be destroyed. Will you allow that 
 king to remain unpunished, who has murdered a lieutenant of 
 the Roman people of consular rank, having tortured him with 
 chains and scourging, and every sort of punishment ? They 
 would not allow the freedom of Roman citizens to be diminish- 
 ed ; will you be indifferent to their lives being taken 1 They 
 avenged the privileges of our embassy when they were violated 
 by a word ; will you abandon an embassador who has been put 
 to death with every sort of cruelty ? Take care lest, as it was 
 a most glorious thing for them, to leave you such wide renown 
 and such a powerful empire, it should be a most discreditable 
 thing for you, not t<|> be able to defend and preserve that which 
 you have received, i What more shall I say ? Shall I say, that 
 the safety of our allies' is involved in the greatest hazard and 
 danger ! King Ariobarzanes has been driven from his king- 
 dom, an ally and friend of the Roman people ; two kings are 
 threatening all Asia, who are not only most hostile to you, but 
 also to your friends and allies. And every city throughout 
 all Asia, and throughout all Greece, is compelled by the mag- 
 nitude of the danger to put its whole trust in the expectation 
 of your assistance. They do not dare to beg of you any par- 
 
152 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ticular general, especially since you have sent them another, 
 nor do they think that they can do this without extreme dam 
 ger. They see and feel this, the same thing which you too 
 see and feel — that there is one man in whom all qualities are 
 in the highest perfection, and that he is near, (which circum- 
 stance makes it seem harder to be deprived of him,) by whose 
 mere arrival and name, although it was a maritime war for 
 which he came, they are nevertheless aware that the attacks 
 of the enemy were retarded and repressed. They then, since 
 they can not speak freely, silently entreat you to think them (as 
 you have thought your allies in the other provinces) worthy of 
 having their safety recommended to such a man ; and to think 
 them worthy even more than others, because we often send 
 men with absolute authority into such a province as theirs, 
 of such character, that, even if they protect them from the ene- 
 my, still their arrival among the cities of the allies is not very 
 different from an invasion of the enemy. They used to hear 
 of him before, now they see him among-them ; a man of such 
 moderation, such mildness, such humanity, that those seem to 
 be the happiest people among whom he remains for the long- 
 est time. 
 
 VI. Wherefore, if on account of their allies, though they 
 themselves had not been roused by any injuries, your ancestors 
 waged war against Antiochus, against Philip, against the ^Eto- 
 lians, and against the Carthaginians ; with hov> r much earnest- 
 ness ought you, when you yourselves have been provoked by 
 injurious treatment, to defend the safety of the allies, and at 
 the same time, the dignity of your empire 1 especially when 
 your greatest revenues are at stake. For the revenues of the 
 other provinces, O Romans, are such that we can scarcely 
 derive enough from them for the protection of the provinces 
 themselves. But Asia is so rich and so productive, that in the 
 fertility of its soil, and in the variety of its fruits, and in the 
 vastness of its pasture lands, and in the multitude of all those 
 things which are matters of exportation, it is greatly superior 
 to all other countries. Therefore, O Romans, this province, 
 if you have any regard for what tends to your advantage in 
 time of war, and to your dignity in time of peace, must be de- 
 fended by you, not only from all calamity, but from all fear 
 of calamity. For in other matters when calamity comes on 
 one, then damage is sustained ; but in the case of revenues, 
 not only the arrival of evil, but the bare dread of it, brings dis- 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 153 
 
 aster. For when the troops of the enemy are not far off, even 
 though no actual irruption takes place, still the flocks are 
 abandoned, agriculture is relinquished, the sailing of merchants 
 is at an end. And accordingly, neither -from harbor dues, 
 nor from tenths, nor from the tax on pasture lands, can any 
 revenue be maintained. And therefore it often happens that 
 the produce of an entire year is lost by one rumor of danger, 
 and by one alarm of war. What do you think ought to be 
 the feelings .of those who pay us tribute, or of those who get 
 it in, and exact it, when two kings with very numerous armies 
 are all but on the spot? when one inroad of cavalry may in a 
 very short time carry off the revenue of a whole year? when 
 the publicans think that they retain the large households of 
 slaves which they have in the salt-works, in the fields, in the 
 harbors, and custom-houses, at the greatest risk ? Do. you 
 think that you can enjoy these advantages unless you preserve 
 those men who are productive to you, free not only, as I said 
 before, from calamity, but even from the dread of calamity % 
 
 VII. And even this must not be neglected by you, which ' j 
 I had proposed to myself as the last thing to be mentioned, 
 when I was to speak of the kind of war, for it concerns the 
 property of many Roman citizens ; whom you, as becomes 
 your Avisdom, O Romans, must regard with the most careful 
 solicitude. The publicans, 1 most honorable and accomplished 
 men, have taken all their resources and all their wealth into 
 that province ; and their property and fortunes ought, by 
 themselves, to be an object of your special care. In truth, it 
 we have always considered the revenues as the sinews of the 
 republic, certainly we shall be right if we call that order of 
 men which collects them, the prop and support of all the oth- 
 er orders. In the next place, clever and industrious men, of 
 all the other orders of the state, are some of them actually 
 trading themselves in Asia, and you ought to show a regard 
 for their interests in their absence ; and others of them have 
 large sums invested in that province. It will, therefore, be- 
 come your humanity to protect a large number of those cit- 
 izens from misfortune ; it will become your wisdom to per- 
 ceive that the misfortune of many citizens, can not be sepa- 
 rated from the misfortune of the republic. In truth, firstly, 
 it is of but little consequence for you afterward to recover 
 
 1 It has been said before that the publicans were taken almost ex- 
 clusively from the equestrian order. 
 
 G2 
 
154 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 for the publicans revenues which have been once lost ; for the 
 same men have not afterward the same power of contracting 
 for them, and others have not the inclination, through fear. 
 In the next place, 'that which the same Asia, and that same 
 Mithridates taught us, at the beginning of the Asiatic war, 
 that, at all events, we, having learnt by disaster, ought to keep 
 in our recollection. For we know that then, when many had 
 lost large fortunes in Asia, all credit failed at Rome, from pay- 
 ments being hindered. For it is not possible for many men 
 to lose their property and fortunes in one city, without draw- 
 ing many along with them into the same vortex of disaster. 
 But do you now preserve the republic from this misfortune ; 
 and believe me, (you yourselves see that it is the case,) this 
 credit, and this state of the money-market which exists at 
 Rome and in the forum, is bound up with, and is insepara- 
 ble from, those fortunes which are invested in Asia. Those 
 fortunes can not fall without credit here being undermined 
 by the same blow, and perishing along with them. Consider, 
 then, whether you ought to hesitate to apply yourselves with 
 all zeal to that war, in which the glory of your name, the safe- 
 ty of your allies, your greatest revenues, and the fortunes of 
 numbers of your citizens, will be protected at the same time 
 as the republic! 
 
 VIII. Since I have spoken of the description of war, I will 
 now say a few words about its magnitude. For this may be 
 said of it — that it is a kind of war so necessary, that it must 
 absolutely be waged, and yet not one of such magnitude as to 
 be formidable. And in this we must take the greatest care 
 that those things do not appear to you contemptible which 
 require to be most diligently guarded against. And that all 
 men may understand that I give Lucius Lucullus all the praise 
 that is due to a gallant man, and most wise 1 man, and to a 
 most consummate general, I say that when he iirst arrived in 
 Asia, the forces of Mithridates were most numerous, well ap- 
 pointed, and provided with every requisite ; and that the finest 
 city in Asia, and the one, too, that was most friendly to us, 
 the city of Cyzicus, was besieged by the king in person, with 
 
 1 The Latin is " forti viro, et sapicntissimo homini" and this opposi- 
 tion of vir and homo is not uncommon in Cicero's orations. " Homo is 
 nearly synonymous with vir, but with this distinction, that homo is used 
 of a man considered as an intellectual and moral being. — namely, where 
 personal qualities are to be denoted ; whereas vir signifies a man in his 
 relations to the state." — Riddle, Lat. Diet. v. Homo. 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 155 
 
 an enormous army, and that the siege had been pressed most 
 vigorously, when Lucius Lucullus, by his valor, and perse- 
 verance, and wisdom, relieved it from the most extreme dan- 
 ger. Yl say that he also, when general, defeated and destroy - 
 jed^that great and well-appointed fleet, which the chiefs of 
 Sertorius's party were leading against Italy with furious zeal ; 
 I say besides, that by him numerous armies of the enemy were 
 destroyed in several battles, and that Pontus was opened to 
 our legions, which before his time had been closed against the 
 Roman people on every side ; and that Sinope and Amisus, 
 towns in which the king had palaces, adorned and furnished 
 with every kind of magnificence, and many other cities of 
 Pontus and Cappadocia, were taken by his mere approach 
 and arrival near them ; that the king himself was stripped of 
 the kingdom possessed by his father and his grandfather, and 
 forced to betake himself as a suppliant to other kings and 
 other nations ; and that all these great deeds were achieved 
 without any injury to the allies of the Roman people, or any 
 diminution of its revenues. I think that this is praise enough ; 
 — such praise that you must see, O Romans, that Lucius Lu- 
 cullus has not been praised as much from this rostrum by any 
 one of these men who are objecting to this law and arguing 
 against our cause. 
 
 IX. Perhaps now it will be asked, how, when all this has 
 been already done, there can be any great war left behind. I 
 will explain this, O Romans ; for this does not seem an un- 
 reasonable question. At first Mithridates fled from his king- 
 dom, as Medea is formerly said to have fled from the same re- 
 gion of Pontus ; for they say that she, in her flight, strewed 
 about the limbs of her brother in those places along which her 
 father was likely to pursue her, in order that the collection of 
 them, dispersed as they were, and the grief which would af- 
 flict his father, might delay the rapidity of his pursuit. Mith- 
 ridates, flying in the same manner, left in Pontus the whole 
 of the vast quantity of gold and silver, and of beautiful things 
 which he had inherited from his ancestors, and which he him- 
 self had collected and brought into his own kingdom, having 
 obtained them by plunder in the former war from all Asia. 
 While our men were diligently occupied in collecting all this, 
 the king himself escaped out of their hands. And so grief re- 
 tarded the father of Medea in his pursuit, but delight delay- 
 ed our men. In this alarm and flight of his, Tigranes, the 
 
156 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 king of Armenia, received him, encouraged him while despair- 
 ing of his fortunes, gave him new spirit in his depression, and 
 recruited with new strength his powerless condition. And aft- 
 er Lucius Lueullus arrived in his kingdom, very many tribes 
 were excited to hostilities against our general. For those na- 
 tions which the Roman people never had thought either of at- 
 tacking in war or tampering with, had been inspired with fear. 
 There was, besides, a general opinion which had taken deep 
 root, and had spread over all the barbarian tribes in those 
 districts, that our army had been led into those countries with 
 the object of plundering a very wealthy and most religiously 
 worshiped temple. And so, many powerful nations were 
 roused against us by a fresh dread and alarm. But our army, 
 although it had taken a city of Tigranes's kingdom, and had 
 fought some successful battles, still was out of spirits at its 
 immense distance from Rome, and its separation from its 
 friends. At present I will not say more ; for the result of 
 these feelings of theirs was, that they were more anxious for 
 a speedy return home than for any farther advance into the 
 enemies' country. But ]\Iithridatcs had by this time strength- 
 ened his army by re-enforcements of those men belonging to 
 his own dominions who had assembled together, and by large 
 promiscuous forces belonging to many other kings and tribes. 
 And we see that this is almost invariably the cage, that kings 
 when in misfortune easily induce many to pity and assist them, 
 especially such as are either kings themselves, or who live un- 
 der kingly power, because to them the name of king appears 
 something great and sacred. And accordingly he, when con- 
 quered, was able to accomplish what, when he was in the full 
 enjoyment of his powers, he never dared even to wish for. 
 For when he had returned to his kingdom, he was not con- 
 tent (though that had happened to him beyond all his hopes) 
 with again setting his foot on that land after he had been ex- 
 pelled from it ; but he even volunteered an attack on your 
 army, flushed as it was with glory and victory. Allow me, 
 in this place, O Romans, (just as poets do who write of Ro- 
 man affairs.) to pass over our disaster, which was so great 
 that it came to Lucius Lueullus' s ears, not by means of a 
 messenger dispatched from the scene of action, but through 
 the report of common conversation. At the very time of this 
 misfortune, — of this most terrible disaster in the whole war, 
 Lucius Lueullus, who might have been able, to a great extent, 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 157 
 
 to remedy the calamity, being compelled by your orders, be- 
 cause you thought, according to the old principle of your an- 
 cestors, that limits ought to be put to length of command, 
 discharged a part of his soldiers who had served their appoint- 
 ed time, and delivered over part to Glabrio. 1 pass over many 
 things designedly ; but you yourselves can easily conjecture 
 how important you ought to consider that war which most 
 powerful kings are uniting in, — which disturbed nations are 
 renewing, — which nations, whose strength is unimpaired, are 
 undertaking, and which a new general of yours has to en- 
 counter after a veteran army has been defeated. 
 
 X. I appear to have said enough to make you see why this 
 war is in its very nature unavoidable, in its magnitude dan- 
 gerous. It remains for me to speak of the general who ought 
 to be selected for that war, and appointed to the management 
 of such important affairs. 
 
 I wish, O Romans, that you had such an abundance of 
 brave and honest men, that it was a difficult subject for your 
 deliberations, whom you thought most desirable to be appoint- 
 ed to the conduct of such important affairs, and so vast a war. 
 But now, when there is: Cnseus Pompeius alone, who has ex- 
 ceeded in valor, not only the glory of these men who are now 
 alive, but even all recollections of antiquity, what is there 
 that, in this case, can raise a doubt in the mind of any one I 
 For I think that these four qualities are indispensable in a 
 great general, — knowledge of military affairs, valor, authori- 
 ty and good fortune. Who, then, ever was, or ought to have 
 been, better acquainted with military affairs than this man 1 
 who, the moment that he left school and finished his educa- 
 tion as a boy, at a time when there was a most important 
 war going on, and most active enemies were banded against 
 us, went to his father's army and to the discipline of the 
 camp ; who, when scarcely out of his boyhood, became a sol- 
 dier of a consummate general, — when entering on manhood, 
 became himself the general of a mighty army ;* who has been 
 more frequently engaged with the enemy, than any one else 
 has ever disputed with an adversary ; who has himself, as 
 general, conducted more wars than other men have read of; 
 who has subdued more provinces than other men have wished 
 for ; whose youth was trained to the knowledge of military 
 affairs, not by the precepts of others, but by commanding 
 himself, — not by the disasters of war, but by victories, — not 
 
15S CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 by campaigns, but by triumphs. In short, what description 
 of war can there be in which the fortune of the republic has 
 not given him practice? Civil war, African war, Transal- 
 pine war, Spanish war, promiscuous war of the most warlike 
 cities and nations, servile war, naval war, every variety and 
 diversity of wars and of enemies, has not only been encount- 
 ered by this one man, but encountered victoriously ; and these 
 exploits show plainly that there is no circumstance in milita- 
 ry practice which can elude the knowledge of this man. 
 y* XI. But now, what language can be found equal to the 
 valor of Cna?us Pompeius? What statement can any one 
 make which shall be either worthy of him, or new to you, 
 or unknown to any one ? For those are not the only virtues 
 of a general which are usually thought so, — namely, industry 
 in business, fortitude amid dangers, energy in acting, rapidity 
 in executing, wisdom in foreseeing ; which all exist in as great 
 perfection in that one man as in all the other generals put to- 
 gether whom we have either seen or heard of. Italy is my 
 witness, which that illustrious conqueror himself, Lucius Syl- 
 la, confessed had been delivered by this man's valor and ready 
 assistance. Sicily is my witness, which he released when it 
 was surrounded on all sides by many dangers, not by the dread 
 of his power, but by the promptitude of his wisdom. Africa 
 is my witness, which, having been overwhelmed by numerous 
 armies of enemies, overflowed with the blood of those same 
 enemies. Gaul is my witness, through which a road into 
 Spain was laid open to our legions by the destruction of the 
 Gauls. Spain is my witness, which has repeatedly seen our 
 many enemies there defeated and subdued by this man. Again 
 and again, Italy is my witness, which, when it was weighed 
 down by the disgraceful and perilous servile war, entreated 
 aid from this man, though he was at a distance; and that 
 war, having dwindled down and wasted away at the expect- 
 ation of Pompeius, was destroyed and buried by his arrival. 
 But now, also every coast, all foreign nations and countries, 
 all seas, both in their open waters and in every bay, and creek, 
 and harbor, are my witnesses. For during these last years, 
 what place in any part of the sea had so strong a garrison as 
 to be safe from him ? what place was so much hidden as to 
 escape his notice? Who ever put to sea without being aware 
 that he was committing himself to the hazard of death or 
 slavery, either from storms or from the sea being crowded 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 159 
 
 with pirates? Who would ever have supposed that a war of 
 such extent, so mean, so old a war, a war so extensive in its 
 theatre and so widely scattered, could have been terminated 
 by all our general? put together in one year, or by one gen- 
 eral in all the years of his life? In all these later years what 
 province have you had free from pirates ? what revenue has 
 been safe? what ally have you been able to protect? to whom 
 have your fleets been a defense? How many islands do you 
 suppose have been deserted ? how many cities of the allies do 
 you think have been either abandoned out of fear of the pi- 
 rates, or have been taken by them ? 
 
 XII. But why do I speak of distant events? It was — it 
 was, indeed, formerly — a characteristic of the Roman people to 
 carry on its wars at a distance from home, and to defend by the 
 bulwarks of its power not its own homes, but the fortunes of 
 its allies. Need I say, that the sea has during all these latter 
 years been closed against your allies, when even our own armies 
 never ventured to cross over from Brundusium, except in the 
 depth of winter ? Need I complain that men who were com- 
 ing to you from foreign nations were taken prisoners, when 
 even the embassadors of the Roman people were forced to be 
 ransomed ? Need I Bay, that the sea was not safe for mer- 
 chants, when twelve axes 1 came into the power of the pirates ? 
 Need I mention, how Cnidus, and Colophon, and Samos, most 
 noble cities, and others too in countless numbers, were taken 
 by them, when you know^that your own harbors, and those 
 harbors too from which you derive, as it were, your very life 
 and breath, were in the power of the pirates? Are you igno- 
 rant that the harbor of Caieta, that illustrious harbor, when 
 iull of ships, was plundered by the pirates under the very eyes 
 of the praetor? and that from Misenum, the children of the 
 very man who had before that waged war against the pirates 
 in that place, were earned off by the pirates ? For why should 
 I complain of the disaster of Ostia, and of that stain and blot 
 on the republic, when almost under your very eyes, that fleet 
 which was under the command of a Roman consul was taken 
 and destroyed by the pirates? O ye immortal gods! could 
 the incredible and godlike virtue of one man in so short a time 
 bring so much light to the republic, that you who had lately 
 
 1 The Scholiast says that a consul named Milienus (whose name, how- 
 ever, does not appear in the Fasti) was taken prisoner by the pirates, and 
 sold with his ensirns of office. The axes mean his fasces. 
 
160 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 been used to see a fleet of the enemy before the mouth of the 
 Tiber, should now hear that there is not one ship belonging 
 to the pirates on this side of the Atlantic 1 ? And although 
 you have seen with what rapidity these things were done, still 
 that rapidity ought not to be passed over by me in speaking of 
 them. — For who ever, even if he were only going for the pur- 
 pose of transacting business or making profit, contrived in so 
 short a time to visit so many places, and to perform such long 
 journeys, with as great celerity as Cnams Pompeius has per- 
 formed his voyage, bearing with him the terrors of war as our 
 
 JO' O 
 
 general ? He, when the weather could hardly be called open 
 for sailing, went to Sicily, explored the coasts of Africa ; from 
 thence he came with his fleet to Sardinia, and these three great 
 granaries of the republic he fortified with powerful garrisons 
 and fleets ; when, leaving Sardinia, he came to Italy, having 
 secured the two Spains and Cisalpine Gaul with garrisons and 
 ships. Having sent vessels also to the coast of Illyricum, and 
 to every part of Achaia and Greece, he also adorned the two 
 seas of Italy with very large fleets, and very sufficient garri- 
 sons ; and he himself going in person, added all Cilicia to the 
 dominions of the Roman people, on the forty-ninth day after 
 he S3t out from Brundusium. All the pirates who were any 
 where to be found, were either taken prisoners and put to death, 
 or else had surrendered themselves voluntarily to the power 
 and authority of this one man. Also, when the Cretans had 
 sent embassadors to implore his mercy even into Pamphylia 
 to him, he did not deny them hopes of being allowed to sur- 
 render, and he exacted hostages from them. And thus Cnaeua 
 Pompeius at the end of winter prepared, at the beginning of 
 spring undertook, and by the middle of summer terminated;, 
 this most important war, which had lasted so long, which was 
 scattered in such distant and such various places, and by which 
 
 7 very nation and country was incessantly distressed. 
 XIII. This is the godlike and incredible virtue of that gen- 
 eral. What more shall I say ? How many and how great 
 are his other exploits which 1 began to mention a short time 
 back ; for we are not only to seek for skill in war in a con- 
 summate and perfect general, but there arc many other emi- 
 nent qualities which are the satellites and companions of this 
 virtue. And first of all, how great should be the incorrupt- 
 ibility of generals! How great should be their moderation 
 in every thing! how perfect their good faith ! How miners- 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW 161 
 
 al should be their affability ! how brilliant their genius ! how 
 tender their humanity ! And let us briefly consider to what 
 extent these qualities exist in Cnasus Pompeius. For they 
 are all of the highest importance, Romans, but yet they are 
 to be seen and ascertained more by comparison with the con- 
 duct of others than by any display which they make of them- 
 selves. For how can we rank a man among generals of any 
 class at all, if centurionships 1 are sold, and have been con- 
 stantly sold in his army'? What great or honorable thoughts 
 can we suppose that that man cherishes concerning the repub- 
 lic, who lias either distributed the money which was taken 
 from the treasury for the conduct of the war among the mag- 
 istrates, out of ambition 2 to keep his province, or, out of av- 
 arice, has left it behind him at Rome, invested for his own 
 advantage % Your murmurs show, O Romans, that you rec- 
 ognize, in my description, men who have done these things. 
 But I name no one, so that no one can be angry Avith me, 
 without making confession beforehand of his own malprac- 
 tices. But who is there who is ignorant what terrible distresses 
 our armies suffer wherever they go, through this covetousness 
 of our generals ? Recollect the marches which, during these 
 latter years, our generals have made in Italy, through the 
 lands and towns of the Roman citizens ; then you will more 
 easily imagine what is the course pursued among foreign na- 
 tions. Do you think that of late years more cities of the 
 enemy have been destroyed by the arms of your soldiers, or 
 more cities of your own allies by their winter campaigns ? 
 For that general who does not restrain himself can never re- 
 strain his army; nor can he be strict in judging others who 
 is unwilling for others to be strict in judging him. Do we 
 wonder now that this man should be so far superior to all 
 others, when his legions arrived in Asia in such order that 
 not only no man's hand in so numerous an army, but not even 
 any man's footstep was said to have done the least injury to 
 any peaceful inhabitant 1 But now we have daily rumors — 
 ay, and letters too — brought to Rome about the way in which 
 the soldiers are behaving in their winter-quarters ; not only 
 
 1 The Scholiast says that Cicero is here hinting at Glabrio the consul, 
 or at the younger Marius. 
 
 s Lucullus is supposed to be meant here, as it is said tha'- he had em- 
 loved large sums in soliciting the votes of influential men, so as to be 
 eft in command of the province of Asia, in which he had amassed enor- 
 mous riches. 
 
 I 
 
1C2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 is no once compelled to spend money on the entertainment of 
 the troops, but he is not permitted to do so, even if he wish. 
 For our ancestors thought tit that the houses of our allies and 
 friends should be a shelter to our soldiers from the winter, not 
 a theatre for the exercise of their avarice. 
 
 XIV. Come now, consider also what moderation he has 
 displayed in other matters also. How was it, do you sup- 
 pose, that he was able to display that excessive rapidity, and 
 to perform that incredible voyage ? For it was no unexam- 
 pled number of rowers, no hitherto unknown skill in naviga- 
 tion, no new winds, which bore him so swiftly to the most 
 distant lands; but those circumstances which are wont to 
 delay other men did not delay him. No avarice turned him 
 aside from his intended route in pursuit of some plunder or 
 other; no lust led him away in pursuit of pleasure; no lux- 
 ury allured him to seek its delights ; the illustrious" reputation 
 of no city tempted him to make its acquaintance ; even labor 
 did not turn him aside to seek rest. Lastly, as for the stat- 
 ues, and pictures, and other embellishments of Greek cities, 
 which other men think worth carrying away, he did not think 
 them worthy even of a visit from him. And, therefore, every 
 one in those countries looks upon Cna?us Porapeius as some 
 one descended from heaven, not as some one sent out from 
 this city. Now they begin to believe that there really were 
 formerly Romans of the same moderation ; which hitherto has 
 seemed to foreign nations a thing incredible, a false and ridic- 
 ulous tradition. Now the splendor of } T our dominion is real- 
 ly brilliant in the eyes of those nations. Now they under- 
 stand that it was not without reason that, when we had man- 
 istrates of the same moderation, their ancestors preferred be- 
 ing subject to the Roman people to being themselves lords of 
 other nations. But now the access of all private individuals 
 to him is so easy, their complaints of the injuries received from 
 others are so little checked, that he who in dignity is superior 
 to the noblest men, in affability seems to be on a par with the 
 meanest. How great his wisdom is, how great his authority 
 and fluency in speaking, — and that too is a quality in which 
 the dignity of a general is greatly concerned, — you, O Romans, 
 have often experienced yourselves in this very place. But how 
 great do you think his good faith must have been toward your 
 allies, when the enemies of all nations have placed implicit con- 
 fidence in it ? His humanity is such that it is difficult to say. 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 163 
 
 whether the enemy feared his valor more when fighting against 
 him, or loved his mildness more when they had been conquer- 
 ed by him. And will any one doubt, that this important war 
 ouo-ht to be intrusted to him, who seems to have been born 
 by some especial design and favor of the gods for the express 
 purpose of finishing all the wars which have existed in their 
 own recollection ? 
 
 XV. And since authority has great weight in conducting 
 wars, and in discharging the duties of military command, it 
 certainlv is not doubtful to any one that in that point this 
 same general is especially pre-eminent. And who is ignorant 
 that it is of great importance in the conduct of wars, what 
 opinion the enemy, and what opinion the allies have of your 
 generals, when we know that men are not less influenced in 
 such serious aftliirs, to despise, or fear, or hate, or love a man 
 by common opinion and common report, than by sure grounds 
 and principles ? What name, then, in the whole world has 
 ever been more illustrious than his? whose achievements have 
 ever been equal to his ? And, what gives authority in the 
 highest degree, concerning whom have you ever passed such 
 numerous and such honorable resolutions? Do you believe 
 that there is any where in the whole world any place so des- 
 ert that the renown of that day has not reached it, when the 
 whole Roman people, the forum being crowded, and all the 
 adjacent temples from which this place can be seen being 
 completely filled, — the whole Roman people, I say, demanded 
 Cnseus Pompeius alone as their general in the war in which 
 the common interests of all nations were at stake ? There- 
 fore, not to say more on the subject, nor to confirm what I 
 say by instances of others as to the influence which authority 
 has in war, all our instances of splendid exploits in war must 
 be taken from this same Cngeus Pompeius. The very day 
 that he was appointed by you commander-in-chief of the mar- 
 itime war, in a moment such a cheapness of provisions ensued, 
 (though previously there had been a great scarcity of corn, and 
 the price had been exceedingly high.) owing to the hope con- 
 ceived of one single man, and his high reputation, as could 
 scarcely have been produced by a most productive harvest aft- 
 er a long period of peace. Now, too, after the disaster which 
 befel us in Pontus, from the result of that battle, of which, 
 sorely against my will, I just now reminded you, when our 
 allies were in a state of alarm, when the power and spirits of 
 
164 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 our enemies had risen, and the province was in a very insuf- 
 ficient state of defense, you would have entirely lost Asia, O 
 Romans, if the fortune of the Roman people had not, by some 
 divine interposition, brought Cnaais Pompeius at that partic- 
 ular moment into those regions. His arrival both checked 
 Mithridates, elated with his unusual victory, and delayed Ti- 
 granes, who was threatening Asia with a formidable army. 
 And can any one doubt what he will accomplish by his val- 
 or, when he did so much by his authority and reputation ? or 
 how easily he will preserve our allies and our revenues by his 
 power and his army, when he defended them by the mere ter- 
 ror of his name % 
 i v^ XVI. Come, now ; what a great proof does this circum- 
 stance afford us of the influence of the same man on the en- 
 emies of the Roman people, that all of them, living in coun- 
 tries so far distant from us and from each other, surrendered 
 themselves to him alone in so short a time ? that the embas- 
 sadors of the Cretans, though there was at the time a general 1 
 and an army of ours in their island, came almost to the end 
 of the world to Cmeus Pompeius, and said, all the cities of 
 the Cretans were willing to surrender themselves to him ? 
 What did Mithridates himself do ? Did he not send an em- 
 bassador into Spain to the same Cnasus Pompeius? a man 
 whom Pompeius has always considered an embassador, but 
 who that party, to whom it has always been a source of an- 
 noyance that he was sent to him particularly, have contend- 
 ed was sent as a spy rather than as an embassador. You 
 can now, then, O Romans, form an accurate judgment how 
 much weight you must suppose that this authority of his — 
 now, too, that it has been farther increased by many subse- 
 quent exploits, and by many commendatory resolutions of your 
 own — will have with those kings and among foreign nations. 
 It remains for me timidly and briefly to speak of Iris good 
 fortune, a quality which no man ought to boast of in his own 
 case, but which we may remember and commemorate as hap- 
 pening to another, just as a man may extol the power of the 
 gods. For my judgment is this, that very often commands 
 have been conferred upon, and armies have been intrusted to 
 Maximus, Marcellus, to Scipio, to Marius, and to other great 
 generals, not only on account of their valor, but also on ac- 
 
 1 Metcllus, afterward called Creticus, from his victory over the Cre- 
 tans. 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 165 
 
 count of their good fortune. For there has been, in truth, in 
 the case of some most illustrious men, good fortune added as 
 some contribution of the gods to their honor and glory, and as 
 a means of performing mighty achievements. But concern- 
 ing the good fortune of this man of whom we are now speak- 
 ing, T will use so much moderation as not to say that good 
 fortune was actually placed in his power, but I will so speak 
 as to appear to remember what is past, to have good hope of 
 what is to come ; so that my speech may, on the one hand, 
 not appear to the immortal gods to be arrogant, nor, on the 
 other hand, to be ungrateful. Accordingly, I do not intend 
 to mention, O Romans, what great exploits he has achieved 
 both at home and in war, by land and by sea, and with what 
 invariable felicity he has achieved them ; how, not only the 
 citizens have always consented to his wishes, — the allies com- 
 plied with them, — the enemy obeyed them, but how even the 
 winds and weather have seconded them. I will only say this, 
 most briefly, — that no one has ever been so impudent as to 
 dare in silence to wish for so many and such great favors 
 as the immortal gods have showered upon Cnaeus Pompeius. 
 And that this favor may continue his, and be perpetual, you, 
 O Romans, ought to wish and pray (as, indeed, you do), both 
 for the sake of the common safety and prosperity, and for the 
 sake of the man himself. 
 
 Wherefore, as the war is at the same time so necessary that 
 it can not be neglected, so important that it must be conducted 
 with the greatest care ; and since you have it in your power 
 to appoint a general to conduct it, in whom there is the most 
 perfect knowledge of war, the most extraordinary valor, the 
 'nost splendid personal influence, and the most eminent good 
 fortune, can you hesitate, O Romans, to apply this wonderful 
 advantage which is offered you and given you by the immortal 
 gods, to the preservation and increase of the power of the re- 
 public? 
 
 XVLT. But, if Cnaeus Pompeius were a private individual 
 at Rome at this present time, still he would be the man who 
 ought to be selected and sent out to so great a war. But now, 
 when to all the other exceeding advantages of the appointment, 
 this opportunity is also added, — that he is in those very coun- 
 tries already, — that he has an army with him, — that there is 
 another army there which can at once be made over to him 
 by those who are in command of it, — why do we delay ? or 
 
166 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 why do we not, under the guidance of the immortal gods them- 
 selves, commit this royal war also to him to whom all the 
 other wars in those parts have been already intrusted to the 
 greatest advantage, to the very safety of the republic *? 
 
 But, to be sure, that most illustrious man, Quintus Catulus, 
 a man most honestly attached to the republic, and loaded with 
 your kindness in a way most honorable to him; and also 
 Quintus Hortensius, a man endowed with the highest qualities 
 of honor, and fortune, and virtue, and genius, disagree to this 
 proposal. And I admit that their authority has- in many in- 
 stances had the greatest weight with you, and that it ought to 
 have the greatest weight ; but in this cause, although you are 
 aware that the opinions of many very brave and illustrious 
 men are unfavorable to us, still it is possible for us, disregard- 
 ing those authorities, to arrive at the truth by the circum- 
 stances of the case and by reason. And so much the more 
 easily, because those very men admit that every thing which 
 has been said by me up to this time is true, — that the war is 
 necessary, that it is an important war, and that all the requisite 
 qualifications are in the highest perfection in Cnseus Pompeius. 
 What then, does Hortensius say u ? " That if the whole power 
 must be given to one man, Pompeius alone is most worthy to 
 have it ; but that, nevertheless, the power ought not to be in- 
 trusted to one individual." That argument, however, has now 
 become obsolete, having been refuted much more by facts than 
 by words. For you, also, Quintus Hortensius, said many 
 things with great force and fluency (as might be expected from 
 your exceeding ability, and eminent facility as an orator) in 
 the senate against that brave man, Aulus Gabinius, when he 
 had brought forward the law about appointing one com- 
 mander-in-chief against the pirates ; and also from this place 
 where I now stand, you made a long speech against that law. 
 What then % By the immortal gods, if your authority hadjiad 
 greater weight with the Roman people than the safety and real 
 interests of the Roman people itself, should we have been this 
 day in possession of our present glory, and of the empire of 
 the whole earth ? Did this, then, appear to you to be domin- 
 ion, when it was a common thing for the embassadors, and 
 praetors, and quaestors of the Roman people to be taken pris- 
 oners ? when we were cut off from all supplies, both public 
 and private, from all our provinces'? when all the seas were 
 so closed asrainst us, that we could neither visit any private 
 (state of our own, nor any public domain beyond the sea ! 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 167 
 
 XVIII. What city ever was there before this time, — I 
 speak not of the city of the Athenians, which is said former- 
 ly to have had a sufficiently extensive naval dominion ; nor 
 of that of the Carthaginians, who had great power with their 
 fleet and maritime resources ; nor of those of the Rhodians, 
 whose naval discipline and naval renown has lasted even to 
 our recollection, — but was there ever any city before this time 
 so insignificant, if it was only a small island, as not to be able 
 by its own power to defend its harbors, and its lands, and 
 some part of- its country and maritime coast 1 But, forsooth, 
 for many years before the Gabinian law was passed, the Ro- 
 man people, whose name, till within our own memory, re- 
 mained invincible in naval battles, was deprived not only of 
 a great, ay, of much the greatest part of its usefulness, but 
 also of its dignity and dominion. We, whose ancestors con- 
 quered with our fleets Antiochus the king, and Perses, and in 
 every naval engagement defeated the Carthaginians, the best 
 practiced and best equipped of all men in maritime affairs ; 
 we could now in no place prove ourselves equal to the pirates. 
 We, who formerly had not only all Italy in safety, but who 
 were able by the authority of our empire to secure the safety 
 of all our allies in the most distant countries, so that even the 
 island of Delos, situated so far from us in the iEgean sea, at 
 which all men were in the habit of touching with their mer- 
 chandise and their freights, full of riches as it was, little and 
 unwalled as it was, still was in no alarm ; we, I say, were 
 cut off, not only from our provinces, and from the sea-coast 
 of Italy, and from our harbors, but even from the Appian 
 road ; and at this time, the magistrates of the Roman people 
 were not ashamed to come up into this very rostrum where 
 I am standing, which your ancestors had bequeathed to you 
 adorned with nautical trophies, and the spoils of the enemy's 
 fleet. 
 
 XIX. When you opposed that law, the Roman people, O 
 Quintus Hortensius, thought that you, and the others who 
 held the same opinion with you, delivered your sentiments in 
 a bold and gallant spirit. But still, in a matter affecting the 
 safety of the commonwealth, the Roman people preferred con- 
 sulting its own feelings of indignation to your authority. Ac- 
 cordingly, one law, one man, and one year, delivered us not 
 only from that misery and disgrace, but also caused us again 
 at length to appear really to be masters of all nations and 
 
108 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 countries by land and sea. And on this account the endeav- 
 or to detract, shall I say from Gabinius, or from Pompeius. 
 or (what would be truer still) from both ? appears to me par- 
 ticularly unworthy ; being done in order that Aulus Gabin- 
 ius might not be appointed lieutenant to Cnaeus Pompeius, 
 though he requested and begged it. Is he who begs for a 
 particular lieutenant in so important a war unworthy to ob- 
 tain any one whom he desires, when all other generals have 
 taken whatever lieutenants they chose, to assist them in pil- 
 laging the allies and plundering the provinces ? Or ought he, 
 by whose law safety and dignity has been given to the Ro- 
 man people, and to all nations, to be prevented from sharing 
 in the glory of that commander and that army, which exists 
 through his wisdom and was appointed at his risk? Was 
 it allowed to Caius Falcidius, to Quintus Metellus,«to Quin- 
 tus Caslius Laterensis, and to Cnasus Lentulus, all of whom I 
 name to do them honor, to be lieutenants the year after they 
 had been tribunes of the people ; and shall men be so exact 
 in the case of Gabinius alone, who, in this war which is car- 
 ried on under the provisions of the Gabinian law, and in the 
 case of this commander and this army which he himself ap- 
 pointed with your assistance, ought to have the first right of 
 any one? And concerning whose appointment as lieutenant 
 1 hope that the consuls will bring forward a motion in the 
 senate ; and if they hesitate, or are unwilling to do so, I un- 
 dertake to bring it forward myself; nor, O Romans, shall the 
 hostile edict of any one deter me from relying on you and de- 
 fending your privileges and your kindness. Nor will I listen 
 to any thing except the interposition of the tribunes ; and as 
 to that, those very men who threaten it, will, I apprehend, con- 
 sider over and over again what they have a right to do. In 
 my own opinion, O Romans, Aulus Gabinius alone has a right 
 to be put by the side of Cnaeus Pompeius as a partner of the 
 glory of his exploits in the maritime war ; because the one, 
 with the assistance of your votes, gave to that man alone the 
 task of undertaking that war, and the other, when it was in- 
 trusted to him, undertook it and terminated it. 
 
 XX. It remains for me to speak of the authority and opin- 
 ion of Quintus Catulus ; who, when he asked of you, if you 
 thus placed all your dependence on Cnaeus Pompeius, in whom 
 you would have any hope, if any thing were to happen to him, 
 cocci ved a splendid reward for his own virtue and worth, when 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 169 
 
 vou all, with almost one voice, cried out that you would, in 
 that case, put } r our trust in him. In truth he is such a man, 
 that no affair can be so important, or so difficult, that he can 
 not manage it by his wisdom, or defend it by his integrity, or 
 terminate it by his valor. But, in this case, I entirely differ 
 from him ; because, the less certain and the less lasting the 
 life of man is, the more ought the republic to avail itself of 
 the life and valor of any admirable man, as long as the im- 
 mortal gods allow it to do so. But let no innovation be es- 
 tablished contrary to the precedents and principles of our an- 
 cestors. I will not say, at this moment, that our ancestors in 
 peace always obeyed usage, but in war were always guided by 
 expediency, and always accommodated themselves with new 
 plans to the new emergencies of the times. I will not say that 
 two most important wars, the Punic war and the Spanish war, 
 were put an end to by one general ; that two most powerful 
 cities, which threatened the greatest danger to this empire — 
 Carthage and Numantia, were destroyed by the same Scipio. 
 I will not remind you that it was but lately determined by you 
 and by your ancestors, to rest all the hopes of the empire on 
 Caius Marios, so that the same man conducted the war against 
 Ju^urtha, and against the Cimbri, and against the Teutones. 
 But recollect, in the case of Cnasus Pompeius himself, with ref- 
 erence to whom Catulus objects to having any new regulations 
 introduced, how many new laws have been made with the most 
 willing consent of Quintus Catulus. 
 
 XXI. For what can be so unprecedented as for a young 
 man in a private capacity to levy an army at a most critical 
 time of the republic 1 He levied one. — To command it? He 
 did command it. — To succeed gloriously in his undertaking? 
 He did succeed. What can be so entirely contrary to usage, 
 as for a very young man, whose age 1 fell far short of that re- 
 
 ' " As regards die age at which a person might become a senator, we 
 have no express statement for the time of the republic, although it ap- 
 pears to have been fixed by some custom or law, as the atas senatoria is 
 frequently mentioned, especially during the latter period of the republic ; 
 but we may by induction discover the probable age. We know that ac- 
 cording to the law of the tribune Villius the age fixed for the quaestorship 
 was thirty-one. Now as it might happen that a quaestor was made a 
 senator immediately after the expiration, of his office, we may presume 
 that the earliest age at which a man could become a senator was thirty- 
 two. Augustus at last fixed the senatorial age at twenty-five, which ap- 
 pears to have remained unaltered throughout the time of the empire." — 
 Smith. Diet Ant. p. 851, v. Senatus. 
 
 H 
 
170 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 quired for the rank of a senator, to have a command and an 
 army intrusted to him ? to have Sicily committed to his care, 
 and Africa, and the war which was to be carried on there? 
 He conducted himself in these provinces with singular blame- 
 lessness, dignity, and valor ; he terminated a most serious war 
 in Africa, and brought away his army victorious. But what 
 was ever so unheard-of as for a Roman knight to have a tri- 
 umph? But even that circumstance the Roman people not 
 only saw, but they thought that it deserved to be thronged to 
 and honored with all possible zeal. "What was ever so un- 
 usual, as, when there were two most gallant and most illus- 
 trious consuls, for a Roman knight to be sent as proconsul to 
 a most important and formidable war ? He was so sent — on 
 which occasion, indeed, when some one in the senate said that 
 a private individual ought not to be sent as proconsul, Lucius 
 Philippus is reported to have answered, that if he had his will 
 he should be sent not for one consul, but for both the consuls. 
 Such great hope was entertained that the affairs of the repub- 
 lic would be prosperously managed by him, that the charge 
 which properly belonged to the two consuls was intrusted to 
 the valor of one young man. What was ever so extraordi- 
 nary as for a man to be released from all laws by a formal 
 resolution of the senate, and made consul before he was of an 
 age to undertake any other magistracy according to the laws ? 
 What could be so incredible, as for a Roman knight to cele- 
 brate a second triumph in pursuance of a resolution of the sen- 
 ate 1 All the unusual circumstances which in the memory of 
 man have ever happened to all other men put together, are not 
 so many as these which we see have occurred in the history of 
 this one man. And all these instances, numerous, important, 
 and novel as they are, have all occurred in the case of the same 
 man, taking their rise in the authority of Quintus Catulus him- 
 self, and by that of other most honorable men of the same rank. 
 XXH. Wherefore, let them take care that it is not consid- 
 ered a most unjust and intolerable thing, that their authori- 
 ty in matters affecting the dignity of Cnasus Pompeius should 
 hitherto have been constantly approved of by you, but that 
 your judgment, and the authority of the Roman people in the 
 case of the same man, should be disregarded by them. Es- 
 pecially when the Roman people can now, of its own right, 
 defend its own authority with respect to this man against all 
 " '» dispute it, — because, when those very same men object- 
 
d 
 
 DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 171 
 
 ed, you chose him alone of all men to appoint to the manage- 
 ment of the war against the pirates. If you did this at ran- 
 dom, and had but little regard for the interests of the repub- 
 lic, then they are right to endeavor to guide your party spirit 
 by their wisdom ; but if you at that time showed more fore- 
 sight in the affairs of the state than they did ; if you, in spite 
 of their resistance, by yourselves conferred dignity on the em- 
 pire, safety on the whole world ; then at last let those noble 
 men confess that both they and all other men must obey the 
 authority of the universal Roman people. And in this Asiatic 
 and royal war, not only is that military valor required, which 
 exists in a singular degree in Cnseus Pompeius, but many oth- 
 er great virtues of mind are also demanded. It is difficult for 
 your commander-in-chief in Asia, Cilicia, Syria, and all the 
 kingdoms of the inland nations, to behave in such a manner 
 as to think of nothing else but the enemy and glory. Then, 
 even if there be some men moderate and addicted to the prac- 
 tice of modesty and self-government, still, such is the multi- 
 tude of covetous and licentious men, that no one thinks that 
 these are such men. It is difficult to tell you, O Romans, how 
 great our unpopularity is among foreign nations, on account 
 of the injurious and licentious behavior of those whom we 
 have of late years sent among them with military command. 
 For, in all those countries which are now under our domin- 
 ion, what temple do you think has had a sufficiently holy rep- 
 utation, what city has been sufficiently sacred, what private 
 house has been sufficiently closed and fortified, to be safe from 
 them? *They seek out wealthy and splendid cities to find 
 pretense for making war on them for the sake of plundering 
 them. I would willingly argue this with those most eminent 
 and illustrious men, Quintus Catulus and Quintus Horten- 
 sius ; for they know the distresses of the allies, they see their 
 calamities, they hear their complaints. Do you think that 
 you are sending an army in defense of your allies against 
 their enemies, or rather, under pretense of the existence of en- 
 emies, against your allies and friends themselves 1 ? What city 
 is there in Asia which can stand the ferocity and arrogance, 
 I will not say of the army, of a commander-in-chief, or of a 
 lieutenant, but of even the brigade of one single military trib- 
 une? 
 
 XXIII. So that even if you have any one who may appear 
 able to cope in terms of advantage with the king's armies, 
 
172 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 rtill, unless he be also a man who can keep his hands, and 
 eyes, and desires from the treasures of the allies, from their 
 wives and children, from the ornaments of their temples and 
 cities, from the gold and jewels of the king, he will not be a 
 fit person to be sent to this Asiatic and royal war. Do you 
 think that there is any city there peacefully inclined toward 
 us which is rich 1 Do you think that there is any rich city 
 there, which will appear to those men to be peacefully in- 
 clined toward us? The sea-coast, O Romans, begged for 
 Cnseus Pompeius, not only on account of his renown for mili- 
 tary achievements, but also because of the moderation of his 
 disposition. For it saw that it was not the Roman people 
 that was enriched every year by the public money, but only a 
 few individuals, and that we did nothing more by the name of 
 our fleets beyond sustaining losses, and so covering ourselves 
 with additional disgrace. But now, are these men, who think 
 that all these honors and offices are not to be conferred on one 
 person, ignorant with what desires, with what hope of retriev- 
 ing past losses, and on what conditions, these men go to the 
 provinces? As if Cnaeus Pompeius did not appear great in 
 our eyes, not only on account of his own positive virtues, but 
 by a comparison with the vices of others. And, therefore, do 
 not you doubt to intrust every thing to him alone, when he 
 has been found to be the only man for many years whom the 
 allies are glad to see come to their cities with an army. And 
 if you think that our side of the argument, O Romans, should 
 be confirmed by authorities, you have the authority qf Publius 
 Servilius, a man of the greatest skill in all wars, and in affairs 
 of the greatest importance, who has performed such mighty 
 achievements by land and sea, that, when you are deliberating 
 about wa?' ; no one's authority ought to have more weight with V 
 you. You have the authority of Caius Curio, a man who hasTV\ 
 received great kindnesses from you, who has performed great ^ 
 exploits, who is indued with the highest abilities and wisdom ; 
 and of Cna3us Lentulus, in whom all of you know there is (as, 
 indeed, there ought to be, from the ample honors which you 
 have heaped upon him) the most eminent wisdom, and the 
 greatest dignity of character ; and of Caius Cassius, a man of 
 extraordinary integrity, and valor, and virtue. Consider, there- 
 fore, whether we do not seem by the authority of these men to 
 give a sufficient answer to the speeches of those men who differ 
 from us- 
 
DEFENSE OF THE PROPOSED MANILIAN LAW. 173 
 
 XXIV. And as this is the case, O Caius Manilius, in the 
 first place, I exceedingly praise and approve of that law of 
 yours, and of your purpose, and of your sentiments. And in 
 the second place, I exhort you, having the approbation of the 
 Roman people, to persevere in those sentiments, and not to 
 fear the violence or threats of any one. And, first of all, I 
 think you have the requisite courage and perseverance ; and, 
 secondly, when we see such a multitude present displaying 
 such zeal in our cause as we now see displayed for the second 
 time, in appointing the same man to the supreme command, 
 how can we doubt in the matter, or question our power of 
 carrying our point ? As for me, all the zeal, and wisdom, and 
 industry, and ability of which I am possessed, all the influence 
 which I have through the kindness shown for me by the Ro- 
 man people, and through my power as praetor, as also, through 
 my reputation for authority, good faith, and virtue, all of it I 
 pledge to you and the Roman people, and devote to the object 
 of carrying this resolution. » v -"And I call all the gods to witness, 
 and especially those who preside over this place and temple, 
 who see into the minds of all those who apply themselves to 
 affairs of state, that I am not doing this at the request of any 
 one, nor because I think to conciliate the favor of Cnseus Pom- 
 peius by taking this side, nor in order, through the greatness 
 of any one else, to seek for myself protection against dangers, 
 or aids in the acquirement of honors; because, as for dangers, 
 we shall easily repel them, as a man ought to do, protected 
 by our own innocencat and as for honors, we shall not gain 
 them by the favor of a«|k men, nor by any thing that happens 
 in this place, but by the%ame laborious course of life which 
 I have hitherto adopted, if your favorable inclination assists 
 me. "Wherefore, whatever I have undertaken in this cause, 
 
 Romans, I assure you that I have undertaken wholly for 
 the sake of the republic ; and I am so far from thinking that 
 
 1 have gained by it the favor of any influential man, that I 
 know, on the other hand, that I have brought on myself many 
 enmities, some secret, some undisguised, which I never need 
 have incurred, and which yet will not be mischievous to you. 
 But I have considered that I, invested with my present hon- 
 ors, and loaded with so many kindnesses from you, ought to 
 prefer your inclination, and the dignity of the republic, and 
 the safety of our provinces and allies, to all considerations of 
 my own private interest. 
 
174 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF TITUS 
 
 ANNIUS MILO. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Titus Annius Milo, often in the following speech called only Titus Anni- 
 us, stood for the consulship while Clodius was a candidate for the prae- 
 torship, and daily quarrels took place in the streets between their arm- 
 ed retainers and gladiators. Milo, who was dictator of Lanuvium, his 
 native place, was forced to go thither to appoint some priests, etc. ; and 
 Clodius, who had been to Aricia, met him on his road. Milo wa6 in 
 his carriage with his wife, and was accompanied by a numerous reti- 
 nue, among whom were some gladiators. Clodius was on horseback, 
 with about thirty armed men. The followers of each began to fight, 
 and when the tumult had become general, Clodius was slain, probably 
 by Milo himself. The disturbances at Rome became so formidable that 
 Pompey was created sole consul ; and soon after he entered on his office, 
 a.u.c. 702, Milo was brought to trial. This speech, however, though 
 composed by Cicero, was not spoken, for he was so much alarmed by the 
 violence of Clodius's friends, that he did not dare to use the plain lan- 
 guage he had proposed. Milo was convicted and banished to Marseilles. 
 
 I. Although I am afraid, O judges, that it is a base thing 
 for one who is beginning to speak for a very brave man to be 
 alarmed, and though it is far from Incoming, when Titus 
 Annius Milo himself is more disturbed for the safety of the 
 republic than for his own, that I should not be able to bring 
 to the cause a similar greatness of mind, yet this novel ap- 
 pearance of a new 1 manner of trial alarms my eyes, which; 
 wherever they fall, seek for the former customs of the forum 
 and the ancient practice in trials. For your assembly is not 
 surrounded by a circle of by-standers as usual ; we are not 
 attended by our usual company. 2 
 
 For those guards which you behold in front of all the tem- 
 ples, although they are placed there as a protection against 
 
 1 This was an extraordinary trial, held under a new law just passed 
 by Pompey ; and it was presided over, not by the praetor, but by Lucius 
 Domitius Ahenobarbus, who was expressly appointed by the comitia 
 president of the judges on this occasion. 
 
 2 Pompey was present at the trial, surrounded by his officers, and he 
 had filled the forum and all its precincts with armed men, for the sake of 
 keeping the peace. 
 
FOR T A. MILO. 175 
 
 violence, yet they bring no aid to the orator ; so that even in 
 the forum and in the court of justice itself, although we are 
 protected with all salutary and necessary defenses, yet we can 
 not be entirely without fear. But if I thought this adverse 
 to Milo, I should yield to the times, O judges, and among 
 such a crowd of armed men, I should think there was no 
 room for an orator. But the wisdom of Cmeus Pompeius, 
 a most wise and just man, strengthens and encourages me ; 
 who would certainly neither think it suitable tp his justice to 
 deliver that man up to the weapons of the soldiery whom he • 
 had given over as an accused person to the decision of the 
 judges, nor suitable to his wisdom to arm the rashness of an 
 excited multitude with public authority. 
 
 So that those arms, those centurions, those cohorts, do not 
 announce danger to us, but protection ; nor do they expect 
 us only to be calm, but even to be courageous ; nor do they 
 promise only assistance to my defense, but also silence. And 
 the rest of the multitude, which consists of citizens, is wholly 
 ours ; nor is there any one individual among those whom you 
 see from this place gazing upon us from all sides from which/ 
 any part of the forum can be seen, and watching the resultA 
 of this trial, who, while he favors the virtue of Milo, does 
 not think that this day in reality his own interests, those of 
 his children, his country, and his fortunes, are at stake. 
 
 II. There is one class adverse and hostile to us, — those 
 whom the madness of Publius Clodius has fed on rapine, on 
 conflagration, and on every sort of public disaster; and who 
 were, even in the assembly held yesterday, exhorted 1 to teach 
 you, by their clamor, what you were to decide. But such 
 shouts, if any reached you, should rather warn you to retain 
 him as a citizen who has always slighted that class of men, 
 and their greatest clamor, in comparison w r ith your safety. 
 Wherefore, be of good corn-age, O judges, and lay aside your 
 alarm, if indeed you feel any ; for if ever- you had to decide 
 about good and brave men, and about citizens who had de- 
 served well of their country, if ever an opportunity was given 
 to chosen men of the most honorable ranks to show by their 
 deeds and resolutions that disposition toward brave and good 
 citizens which they had often declared by their looks and by 
 their words, all that power you now have, when you are to 
 
 1 Munatius Plancus, the day before, had exhorted the people not to 
 "suffer Milo to escape. 
 
176 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 determine whether we who have always been wholly devoted 
 to your authority are to be miserable, and to mourn for ever, 
 or whether, having been long harassed by the most abandoned 
 citizens, we shall at length be reprieved and set up again by 
 you, your loyalty, your virtue, and your wisdom. 
 
 For what, judges, is more full of labor than we both are, 
 what can be either expressed or imagined more full of anxiety 
 and uneasiness than we are, who being induced to devote our- 
 selves to the republic by the hope of the most honorable re- 
 wards, yet can not be free from the fear of the most cruel 
 punishments? I have always thought indeed that Milo had 
 to encounter the other storms and tempests in these billows 
 of the assemblies because he always espoused the cause of the 
 good against the bad; but in a court of justice, and in that 
 council in which the most honorable men of all ranks are 
 sitting as judges, I never imagined that Milo's enemies could 
 have any hope of diminishing his glory by the aid of such 
 men, much less of at all injuring his safety. 
 
 Although in this cause, O judges, we shall not employ the 
 tribuneship of Titus Annius, and all the exploits which he 
 % has performed for the safety of the republic, as topics for our 
 defense against this accusation, unless you see with your own 
 eyes that a plot was laid against Milo by Clodius ; and w-e 
 shall not entreat you to pardon us this one offense in consid- 
 eration of our many eminent services to the republic, nor shall 
 we demand, if the death of Publius Clodius was your safety,, 
 that on that account you should attribute it rather to the 
 virtue of Milo, than to the good fortune of the Roman people; 
 but if his plots are made clearer than the day, then indeed I 
 shall entreat, and shall demand of you, O judges, that, if we 
 have lost every thing else, this at least may be left us, — name- 
 ly, the privilege of defending our lives from the audacity and 
 weapons of our enemies with impunity. 
 
 III. But before I conic to that part of my speech which 
 especially belongs to this trial, it seems necessary to refute 
 those things which hove been often said, both in the senate 
 by our enemies, and in the assembly of the people by wicked 
 men, and lately, too, by our prosecutors; so that when every 
 cause of alarm is removed, you may be able distinctly to see 
 % the matter which is the subject of this trial. They say that 
 that man ought no longer to see the light who confesses that 
 another man has been slain by him. In what city, then, are 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 177 
 
 these most foolish men using this argument ? In this one, 
 forsooth, where the first trial for a man's life that took place 
 at all was that of Marcus Horatius, a most brave man, who 
 even before the city was free was yet acquitted by the assem- 
 bly of the Ivoinan people, though he avowed that his sister 
 had been slain by his hand. 
 
 Is there any one who does not know, that when inquiry is 
 made into the slaying of a man, it is usual either altogether to 
 deny that the deed has been done, or else to defend it on the 
 ground that it was rightly and lawfully done ? unless, indeed, 
 you think that Publius Africanus was out of his mind, who, 
 when he was asked in a seditious spirit by Caius Carbo, a ! 
 tribune of the people, what was his opinion of the death of 
 Tiberius Gracchus, answered that he seemed to have been 
 rightly slain. For neither could Servilius Ahala, that emi- 
 nent man, nor Publius Nasica, nor Lucius Opimius, nor Caius 
 Marius, nor indeed the senate itself during my consulship,, 
 have been accounted any thing but wicked, if it was unlawful 
 for wicked citizens to be put to death. And therefore, O 
 judges, it was not without good reason, that even in legend-* 
 ary fables learned men have handed down the story, that he, 
 who for the sake of avenging his father had killed his mother, 
 when the opinions of men varied, was acquitted not only by • 
 the voices of the gods, but even by the very wisest goddess. 
 And if the Twelve Tables have permitted that a nightly 
 robber may be slain any way, but a robber by day if he de- 
 fends himself, with a weapon, who is there who can think 
 a man to be punished for slaying another, in whatever way 
 he is slain, when he sees that sometimes a sword to kill a 
 man with is put into our hands by the very laws them- 
 selves ? 
 
 TV. But if there be any occasion on which it is proper to 
 slay a man, — and there are many such, — surely that occasion 
 is not only a just one, but even a necessary one, when vio- 
 lence is offered, and can only be repelled by violence. When 
 a military tribune offered violence to a soldier in the army of 
 Caius Marius, the kinsman of that commander was slain by 
 the man whom he was insulting ; for the virtuous youth chose 
 to act, though with danger, rather than to suffer infamously ; 
 and his illustrious commander acquitted him of all guilt, and 
 treated him well.^f But what death can be unjust when in- 
 flicted on a secret plotter and robber? 
 
 H2 ^ 
 
178 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 What is the meaning of our retinues, what of our swords ? 
 Surely it would never be permitted to us to have them if we 
 might never use them. This, therefore, is a law, O judges, 
 not written, but born witli us, — which we have not learned, or 
 received by tradition, or read, but which we have taken and 
 sucked in and imbibed from nature herself; a law which we 
 were not taught, but to which we were made, — which we were 
 not trained in, but which is ingrained in us, — namely, that if 
 our life be in danger from plots, or from open violence, or from 
 the weapons of robbers or enemies, every means of securing 
 our safety is honorable. For laws are silent when arms are 
 raised, and do not expect themselves to be waited for, when he 
 who waits will have to suffer an undeserved penalty before he 
 can exact a merited punishment. 
 
 The law very wisely, and in a manner silently, gives a man 
 a right to defend himself, and does not merely forbid a man to 
 be slain, but forbids any one to have a weapon about him 
 with the object of slaying a man ; so that, as the object, and 
 not the weapon itself, is made the subject of the inquiry, the 
 ■•man who had used a weapon with the object of defending 
 himself would be decided not to have had his weapon about 
 him with the object of killing a man. Let, then, this princi- 
 * pie be remembered by you in this trial, O judges ; for I do 
 not doubt that I shall make good my defense before you, if 
 you only remember — what you can not forget — that a plotter 
 against one may be lawfully slain. ^ 
 
 V. The next point is one which is often asserted by the 
 enemies of Milo, who say that the senate has decided that the 
 slaughter by which Publius Clodius fell was contrary to the 
 interests of the republic. But, in fact, the senate has approved, 
 not merely by their votes, but even zealously. For how often 
 has that cause been pleaded by us in the senate? with what 
 great assent of the whole body ? and that no silent nor con- 
 cealed assent ; for when in a very full senate were there ever 
 four or five men found who did not espouse Milo's cause? 
 Those lifeless assemblies of this nearly burnt 1 tribune of the 
 people show the fact; assemblies in which he daily used to try 
 
 • After Clodius's death, Munatius Plancus, the tribune, exposed his 
 body on the rostrum, and harangued the people against Milo ; the pop- 
 ulace carried the body into the senate-house, and made a pile of the seats 
 to burn it, in doing which they burnt the senate-house, and Plancus him- 
 self with difficulty escaped. 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. I79 
 
 and bring my power into unpopularity, by saying that the sen- 
 ate did not pass its decrees according to what it thought itself, 
 but as I chose. 
 
 And if, indeed, that ought to be called power, rather than 
 a moderate influence in a righteous cause on account of crreat 
 services done to the republic, or some popularity among the 
 good on account of dutiful labors for its sake, let it be called 
 so, as long as we employ it for the safety of the good in oppo- 
 sition to the madness of the wicked. 
 
 1/ But this investigation, though it is not an unjust one, yet 
 is not one which the senate thought ought to be ordered ; for 
 there were regular laws and forms of trial for murder, or for 
 assault ; jnor did the death of Publius Clodius cause the senate 
 such concern and sorrow that any new process of investigation 
 need have been appointed ; I for when the senate had had the 
 power of decreeing a trial in the matter of that impious pol- 
 lution of which he was guilty taken from it, who can believe 
 it thought it necessary to appoint a new form of trial about 
 his death ? Why then did the senate decide that this burning 
 of the senate-house, this siege laid to the house of M. Lepidus 
 and this very homicide, had taken place contrary to the inter- 
 est of the republic? I Why, because no violence from one 
 citizen to another can ever take place in a free state which is 
 not contrary to the interests of the republic. For the defend- 
 ing of one's self against violence is never a thing to be wished 
 for; but it is sometimes necessary, /unless, indeed, one could 
 say that that day on which Tiberius Gracchus was slain, or 
 that day when Caius was,|or the day when the arms of Satur- 
 nius were put down, even if they ended as the welfare of the 
 republic demanded, were yet no wound and injury to the re- 
 public. 
 
 VI. Therefore I myself voted, when it was notorious that 
 a homicide had taken place on the Appian road,fnot that he 
 who had defended himself had acted in a manner 'contrary to 
 the interests of the republic; but as there was violence and 
 treachery in the business, I reserved the charge for trial, I ex- 
 pressed my disapprobation of the business. And if the senate 
 had not been hindered by that frantic tribune from executing 
 its wishes, w^ should not now have this novel trial. For the 
 senate voted that an extraordinary investigation should take! 
 place according to the ancient laws. A division took place, | 
 it does not signify on whose motion, for it is not necessary to 
 
 > ■ 
 
180 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mention the worthlessness of every one, and so the rest of the 
 authority of the senate was destroyed by this corrupt interces- 
 sion. 
 
 " Oh, but Cnaeus Pompeius, by his bill, gave his decision 
 both about the fact and about the cause. For he brought in 
 a bill about the homicide which had taken place on the Ap- 
 pian road, in which Publius Clodius was slain." What then 
 
 "did he propose? That an inquiry should be made. What is 
 to be inquired about? Whether it was committed? That is 
 clear. By whom? That is notorious, jjt He saw that a de* 
 fense as to the law and right could be undertaken, even at the 
 very moment of the confession of the act. But if he had no£ 
 seen that he who confessed might yet be acquitted, when he 
 saw that we did not confess the fact, he would never have or- 
 dered an investigation to take place,. nor would he have given 
 you at this trial the power 1 of acquitting as well as that of ( on- 
 demning. But it seems to me that Cneeus Pompeius not only 
 delivered no decision at all unfavorable to Milo,: but that he 
 also pointed out what you ought to turn your attention to in 
 deciding. For he who did not assign a punishment to the 
 
 " confession, but required a defense of it, he clearly thought 
 that what was inquired into was the cause of the death, and 
 not the mere fact of the death. Now he himself shall tell us 
 whether what he did of his own accord was done out of rcgai d 
 for Publius Clodius, or from a compliance with the times. 
 
 VII. A most noble man, a bulwark, and in those times, in- 
 deed, almost a protector of the senat#, the uncle of this our 
 judge, of that most fearless man Marcus Cato, Marcus Drusus, 
 a tribune of the people, was slain in his own house. The peo- 
 ple had never any reference made to them in the matter of 
 his death, no investigation was voted by the senate. What 
 great grief was there, as we have heard from our forefathers 
 in this city, when that attack was made by night on Publius 
 Africanus, while sleeping in his own house ! Who was there 
 then who did not groan, who did not burn with indignation, 
 that men should not have waited even for the natural and in- 
 evitable death of that man whom, if possible, all would have 
 wished to be immortal ? 
 
 1 Literally, "this wholesome letter, as well as that melancholy one." 
 The letter A was the " wholesome" letter, being the initial of absoho, I 
 acquit ; the letter C the melancholy one, being the initial of condemn. I 
 condemn. 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 181 
 
 Was there then any extraordinary investigation into the 
 death of Africanus 1 voted ? Certainly none. Why so ? Be- 
 cause the crime of murder is not different when eminent men, 
 or when obscure ones are slain^ Let there be a difference be- 
 tween the dignity of the lives of the highest and lowest citi- 
 zens. If their death be wrought by wickedness, that must be 
 avenged by the same laws and punishments in either case ; 
 unless, indeed, he be more a parricide who murders a father 
 of consular rank than he who murders one of low degree ; or, 
 as if the death of ^ublius Clodius is to be more criminal be^ 
 cause he was slain among the monuments of his ancestors, — 
 for this is constantly said by that party ; fas if, I suppose, that 
 /illustrious Appius Caecus made that road, not that the nation 
 might have a road to use, but that his own posterity might 
 have a place in which to rob with impunity. 
 Y Therefore in that same Appian road, when Publius Clo- 
 dius had slain a most accomplished Roman knight, Marcus 
 Papirius, that crime was not to be punished ; for a nobleman 
 among his own family monuments had slain a Roman knight. 
 Now what tragedies does the name of that same Appian road 
 awaken ? which, though nothing was said about it formerlv, 
 when stained with the murder of an honorable and innocent 
 mantis now incessantly mentioned ever since it has been dyed 
 with the blood of a robber and a parricide. But why do I 
 speak of these things'? A slave of Publius Clodius was ar- 
 rested in the temple of Castor, whom he had placed there to 
 murder Cnoeus Pompeius ; the dagger was wrested from his 
 hands and he confessed his design ; after that Pompeius ab- u 
 sented himself from the forum, absented himself from the sen- v { 
 ate, and from all public places ; he defended himself within 
 his own doors and walls, not by the power of the laws and 
 tribunals. 
 
 1 After the death of Tiberius Gracchus, Publius ^Emilianus Africanus 
 Scipio, the conqueror of Carthage and Numantia, was known to be hos- 
 tile to the agrarian law, and threw every obstacle in the way of it ; his 
 enemies gave out that he intended to abrogate it by force. One morning 
 he was found dead in his bed without a wound. The cause and manner 
 of his death were unknown ; some said it was natural ; some, that he had 
 slain himself; some, that his wife Sempronia, the sister of Gracchus, had 
 strangled him. His slaves, it was said, declared that some strangers had 
 been introduced into the house at the back, who had strangled him, and 
 the triumvir Carbo is generally believed to have been the chief agent in 
 his murder, and is expressly mentioned as the muir*.*.*** by Cicero, Ep. 
 ad Q. Fr. ii. 3. 
 
182 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Was any motion made? was any extraordinary investiga- 
 tion voted? But if any circumstance, if any man, if any oc- 
 casion was ever important enough for such a step, certainly 
 all these things were so in the greatest degree in that cause. 
 The assassin had been stationed in the forum, and in the very 
 vestibule of the senate. Death was being prepared for that 
 man on whose life the safety of the senate depended. LtMore- 
 over, at that crisis of the republic, when, if he alone had died, 
 not only this state, but all the nations in the world would 
 have been ruined, — unless, indeed, the crime was not to be 
 \ punished because it was not accomplished, just as if the exe- 
 cution of crimes was chastised by the laws, and not the inten- 
 tions of men, — certainly there was less cause to grieve, as the 
 deed was not accomplished, but certainly not a whit the less 
 cause to punish. How often, O judges, have I myself escaped 
 from the weapons and from the bloody hands of Publius Clo- 
 dius ! But if my good fortune, or that of the republic, had 
 not preserved me from them, who would have proposed any 
 investigation into my death ? 
 
 VIII. But it is foolish of us to dare to compare Drusus, 
 Afrieanus, Pompeius, or ourselves, with Publius Clodius. All 
 these things were endurable. The death of Publius Clodius 
 no one can bear with equanimity. The senate is in mourn- 
 ing ; the knights grieve ; the whole state is broken down as 
 if with age ; the municipalities are in mourning ; the colonies 
 are bowed down ;]' the very fields even regret so beneficent, so 
 useful, so kind-hearted a citizen ! That was not the cause, O 
 judges, it was not indeed, why Pompeius thought an investi- 
 gation ought to be proposed by him ; but being a man wise 
 and endowed with lofty and almost divine intellect, he saw 
 many things, — that Clodius was his personal enemy, Milo his 
 intimate friend ; ihe feared that, if he were to rejoice in the 
 common joy of all men, the belief in his reconciliation with 
 Clodius would be weakened. He saw many other things, 
 too, but this most especially, — that in whatever terms of se- 
 verity he proposed the motion, still you would decide fearless- 
 ly. Therefore, he selected the very lights of the most emi- 
 nent ranks of the state. He did not, indeed, as some are con- 
 stantly saying, exclude my friends in selecting the tribunals ; 
 for neither did that most just man think of this, nor, when 
 he was selecting good men, could he have managed to do so, 
 even had he wished ; for my influence would not be limited 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 183 
 
 by my intimacies, which can never be very extensive, because 
 one can not associate habitually with many people ; but, if 
 we have any influence, we have it on this account, because 
 the republic has associated us with the virtuous ; and, when 
 he was selecting the most excellent of them, and as he thought 
 that it especially concerned his credit to do so, he was un- 
 able to avoid selecting men who were well-disposed toward 
 me. 
 
 But as for his especially appointing you, O Lucius Domi- 
 this, to preside over this investigation, in that he was seeking 
 nothing except justice, dignity, humanity and good faith. He 
 passed a law that it must be a man of consular dignity, be- 
 cause, I suppose, he considered the duty of the men of the 
 highest rank to resist both the fickleness of the multitude and 
 the rashness of the profligate; and of the men of consular rank 
 he selected you above all ; for from your earliest youth you 
 had given the most striking proofs how you despised the mad- 
 ness of the people. 
 
 IX. Wherefore, O judges, that we may at last come to the 
 subject of action and the accusation, if it is neither the case 
 that all avowal of the deed is unprecedented, nor that any 
 thing has been determined about our cause by the senate dif- 
 ferently to what we could wish ; and if the proposer of the 
 law himself, when there was no dispute as to the deed, yet 
 thought that there should be a discussion as to the law ; and 
 if the judges had been chosen, and a man appointed to pre- 
 side over the investigation, to decide these matters justly and 
 wisely ; it follows, O judges, that you have now nothing else 
 to inquire into but which plotted against the other ; and that 
 you may the more easily discern this, attend carefully, I en- 
 treat you, while I briefly explain to you the matter as it oc- 
 curred. 
 
 When Publius Clodius had determined to distress the re- 
 public by all sorts of wickedness during his praetorship, and 
 saw that the comitia were so delayed the year before, that he 
 would not be able to continue his praetorship many months, as 
 he had no regard to the degree of honor,. as others have, but 
 both wished to avoid having Lucius Paullus, a citizen of sin- 
 gular virtue, for his colleague, and also to have an entire year 
 to mangle the republic ; on a sudden he abandoned his own 
 year, and transferred himself to the next year, not from any 
 religious scruple, but that he might have, as he said himself 
 
184 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 a full and entire year to act as praetor, that is, to overthrow 
 the republic. 
 
 It occurred to him that his praetorship would be crippled 
 and powerless, if Milo was consul; and, moreover, he saw 
 that he was being made consul with the greatest unanimity 
 of the Roman people. He betook himself to his competitors, 
 but in such a manner that he alone managed the whole elec- 
 tion, even against their will, — that he supported on his own 
 shoulders, as he used to say, the whole comitia, — he convoked 
 the tribes, — he interposed, — he erected a new Colline tribe by 
 the enrollment of the most worthless of the citizens. In pro- 
 portion as the one caused greater confusion, so did the other ac- 
 quire additional power every day. When the fellow, prepared 
 for every atrocity, saw that a most brave man, his greatest en- 
 emy, was a most certain consul, and that that was declared, 
 not only by the conversation of the Roman people, but also 
 by their votes, he began to act openly, and to say without dis- 
 guise that Milo must be slain. 
 
 He had brought down from the Aoennines rustic and bar- 
 barian slaves, whom you saw, with whom he had ravaged the 
 public woods and Etruria. The matter was not concealed at 
 all. In truth, he used to say undisguisedly that the consul- 
 ship could not be taken from Milo, but that life could. He 
 often hinted as much in the senate ; he said it plainly in the 
 public assembly. Besides, when Favonius, a brave man, ask- 
 ed him what he hoped for by giving way to such madness 
 while Milo was alive % he answered him, that in three, or at 
 most in four days, he would be dead. And this saying of his 
 Favonius immediately reported to Marcus Cato, who is here 
 present. 
 
 X. In the mean time, as Clodius knew — and it was not 
 hard to know it — that Milo was forced to take a yearly, le- 
 gitimate, necessary journey on the twentieth of January to 
 Lanuvium to appoint a priest, 1 because Milo was dictator of 
 Lanuvium, on a sudden he himself left Rome the day before, 
 in order (as was seen by the event) to lay in ambush for Milo 
 in front of his farm ; and he departed, so that he was not pres- 
 ent at a turbulent assembly in which his madness was greatly 
 missed, and which was held that very day, and from which he 
 never would have been absent, if he had not desired to avail 
 himself of the place and opportunity for a crime. 
 ' It was the priest of Juno Sospita, who was the patroness of Lanuvium 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 1«5 
 
 But Milo, as he had been that day in the senate till it was 
 dismissed, came home, changed his shoes and his garments, 
 waited a little, as men do, while his wife was getting ready, 
 and then started at the time when Clodius might have re- 
 turned, if, indeed, he had been coming to Rome that day. 
 * Clodius meets him unencumbered on horseback, with no car- """ 
 riage, with no baggage, with no Greek companions, as he was 
 used to, without his wife, which was scarcely ever the case ; 
 while this plotter, who had taken, forsooth, that journey for 
 the express purpose of murder, was driving with his wife in 
 a carriage, in a heavy traveling cloak, with abundant baggage, 
 and a delicate company of women, and maidservants, and boys. 
 He meets Clodius in front of his farm, about the eleventh hour, 
 or not far from it. Immediately a number of men attack him 
 from the higher ground with missile weapons. The men who 
 are in front kill his driver, and when he had jumped down 
 from his chariot and flung aside his cloak, and while he was 
 defending himself with vigorous courage, the m^u who were 
 with Clodius drew their swords, and some of them ran back 
 toward his chariot in order to attack Milo from behind, and 
 some, because they thought that he was already slain, began 
 to attack his servants who were behind him ; and those of the 
 servants who had presence of mind to defend themselves, and 
 were faithful to their master, were some of them slain, and the 
 others, when they saw a fierce battle taking place around the 
 chariot, and as they were prevented from getting near their 
 master so as to succor him, when they heard Clodius himself 
 proclaim that Milo was slain, and they thought that it was 
 really true, they, the servants of Milo, (I am not speaking for 
 the purpose of shifting the guilt on to the shoulders of others, 
 but 1 am saying what really occurred,) did, without their mas- 
 ter either commanding it, or knowing it, or even being pres- 
 ent to see it, what every one would have wished his servants 
 to do in a similar case. 
 
 XI. These things were all done, O judges, just as I have re- 
 lated them. The man who laid the plot was defeated ; vio- 
 lence was defeated by violence ; or, I should rather say, au- 
 dacity was crushed by valor. I say nothing about what the 
 
 republic, nothing about what you, nothing about what all good 
 
 men gained by the result. I do not desire it to be any^aavant-^ 
 age to me to hear that he was born with such a destiny that 
 he *-a* unable even to save himself, without at the same time 
 
186 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 saving the republic and all of you. If he had not a right to 
 do so, then I have nothing which I can urge in his defense. 
 But if both reason has taught this lesson to learned men, and 
 necessity to barbarians, and custom to all nations, and nature 
 itself to the beasts, that they are at all times to repel all vio-. 
 lence by whatever means they can from their persons, from their 
 liberties, and from their lives, then you can not decide this ac- 
 tion to have been wrong, without deciding at the same time 
 that all men who fall among thieves must perish, either by 
 their weapons, or by your sentence. 
 
 And if he had thought that this was the law, it would have 
 been preferable for Milo to offer his throat to Publius Clodius, 
 — which was not attacked by him once only, nor for the first 
 time on that day,— rather than now to be destroyed by you 
 because he did not surrender himself then to be destroyed by 
 him. But if there is no one of you who entertains such an 
 opinion as that, then the question which arises for the consid- 
 eration of the court is, not whether he was slain or not, which 
 we admit, but whether he was slain legally or illegally, which 
 is an inquiry which has often been instituted in many causes. 
 It is quite plain that a plot was laid ; and that is a thing 
 which the senate has decided to be contrary to the laws of 
 the republic. By whom it was laid is a question. And on 
 this point an inquiry has been ordered to be instituted. So 
 the senate has marked its disapproval of the fact, not of the 
 man ; and Pompeius has appointed this inquiry into the mer- 
 its of the case, and not into the fact of its existence. 
 
 XII. Does then any other point arise for the decision of the 
 court, except this one, — which laid a plot against the other ! 
 None whatever. The case comes before you in this way, that 
 if Milo laid a plot against Clodius, then he is not to be let off 
 with impunity. If Clodius laid it against Milo, then we are 
 acquitted from all guilt. 
 
 "^ How then are we to prove that Clodius laid a plot against 
 Milo? It is quite sufficient in the case of such a wicked, of 
 such an audacious monster as that, to prove that he had great 
 reason to do so ; that he had great hopes founded on Milo's 
 death ; that it would have been of the greatest service to him. 
 Therefore, that maxim of Cassius, to see to whose advantage 
 it was, may well have influence in respect of these persons. 
 For although good men can not be induced to commit crimes 
 by any advantage whatever, wicked men often can by a very 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 187 
 
 trifling one. And, if Milo were slain, Clodius gained this, not 
 only that he should be preetor without having him for a con- 
 sul, under whom he would not be able to commit any wicked- 
 ness, but also that he should have those men for consuls while 
 " he was praetor, who, if they did not aid him, would at all'~~*j 
 •(Events connive at all his proceedings to such an extent that J 
 he hoped he should be able to escape detection in all the 
 frantic actions which he was contemplating ; as they (so he 
 argued to himself) would not, even if they were able to do so, 
 be anxious to check his attempts when they considered that 
 they were under such obligations to him ; and on the other 
 hand, if they did wish to do so, perhaps they would hardly 
 be able to crush the audacity of that most wicked man when 
 it got strength by its long continuance. Are you, O judges, 
 the only persons ignorant of all this ? Are you living in this 
 city as ignorant of what passes as if you were visitors ? Are 
 your ears all abroad, do they keep aloof from all the ordinary 
 topics of conversation of the city, as to what laws (if, indeed, 
 they are to be called laws, and not rather firebrands to de- 
 stroy the city, pestilences to annihilate the republic) that man 
 was intending to impose upon all of us, to brand on our 
 foreheads? ■ Exhibit, I beg you, Sextus Clodius, produce, I 
 beg, that copy of your laws which they say that you saved 
 from your house, and from the middle of the armed band 
 which threatened you by night, and bore aloft, like another 
 palladium, in order, forsooth,- to be able to carry that splen- 
 did present, that instrument for discharging the duties of the 
 tribuneship, to some one, if you could obtain his election, 
 who would discharge those duties according to your direc- 
 tions. And * * * [he was going to divide the freedmen 
 among all the tribes, and by his new law to add all the slaves 
 who were going to be emancipated, but who had not yet re- 
 ceived their freedom, so that they might vote equally with the 
 free citizens.] 1 
 
 Would he have dared to make mention of this law, which 
 Sextus Clodius boasts was devised by him, while Milo was 
 
 alive, not to say while he was consul 1 For of all of us > 
 
 I can not venture to say all that I was going to say. But do 
 you consider what enormous faults the law itself must have 
 had, when the mere mention of it, for the purpose of finding 
 
 1 The passage in brackets is a very doubtful supplement of Beier; 
 which, however, Orellius prefers to any other. 
 
188 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 fault with it, is so offensive. And he looked at me with the 
 expression of countenance which he was in the habit of put- 
 ting on when he was threatening every body with every sort 
 of calamity. That light of the senate-house moves me. 1 
 
 XIII. What ? do you suppose, O Sextus, that I am angry 
 with ..you ; I, whose greatest enemy you have punished with 
 even much greater severity than my humanity could resolve 
 to demand I You cast the bloody carcass of Publius Clodius 
 out of the house, you threw it out into the public street, you 
 left it destitute of all images, of all funeral rites, of all funeral 
 pomp, of all funeral panegyric, hnlf consumed by a lot of mis- 
 erable logs, to be torn to pieces by the dogs who nightly prowl 
 about the streets. Wherefore, although in so doing you acted 
 most impiously, still you were wreaking all your cruelty on 
 my enemy ; though I can not praise you, I certainly ought not 
 to be angry with you. * * * 
 
 [I have demonstrated now, O judges, of what great con- 
 sequence it was to Clodius] that Milo should be slain. Now 
 turn your attention to Milo. What advantage could it be to 
 Milo that Clodius should be slain? What reason was there 
 why Milo, I will not say should do such an action, but should 
 even wish for his death? Oh, Clodius was an obstacle to 
 Milo's hope of obtaining the consulship. But he was obtain- 
 ing it in spite of him. Ay, I might rather say he was ob- 
 taining it all the more because Clodius was opposing him ; nor 
 in fact was I a more efficient support to him than Clodius was. 
 The recollection, O judges, of the services which Milo had 
 done to me and to the republic, had weight with you. My 
 entreaties and my tears, with which I perceived at that time 
 that you were greatly moved, had weight with you ; but still 
 more weight had your own fear of the dangers which were 
 impending. fFbr who'of the citizens was there who could turn 
 his eyes to the unrestrained pra^torship of Publius Clodius, 
 without feeling the greatest dread of a revolution ? and un- 
 restrained you saw that it would be unless you had a consul 
 who had both courage and power to restrain him ; and as the 
 whole lloman people saw that Milo alone was that man, who 
 could hesitate by his vote to release himself from fear, and the 
 republic from danger ? 
 
 But now, now that Clodius is removed, Milo has got to la- 
 
 1 Cicero here supposes Sextus Clodius to look menacingly at him, in 
 order to check, him in his attack on this intended law. 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 189 
 
 bor by more ordinary practices to preserve his dignity. That 
 pre-eminent glory, which was then attributed to him alone, 
 and which was daily increasing in consequence of his efforts 
 to repress the frenzy of Clodius, has been put an end to by 
 the death of Clodius. You have gained your object of being 
 no longer afraid of anv one of the citizens ; he has lost that 
 incessant arena for his vajor, that which procured him votes 
 for the consulship, that ceaseless and ever-springing fountain 
 of his glory. Therefore, Milo's canvass for the consulship, 
 which could not be hindered from prospering while Clodius 
 was alive, now, the moment that he is dead, is attempted to 
 be checked. So that the death of Clodius is not only no ad- 
 vantage, but is even a positive injury to Milo. 
 
 " Oil, but his hatred prevailed with him ; he slew him in a 
 passion ; he slew him because he was his enemy ; he acted as 
 the avenger of his own injury ; he was exacting atonement to 
 appease his private indignation." But what will you say if 
 these feelings, I do not say existed in a greater degree in Clo- 
 dius than in Milo, but if they existed in the greatest possible 
 degree in the former, and not at all in the latter? What will 
 you require beyond that ? For why should Milo have hated 
 Clodius, the material and ground-work of his glory, except as 
 far as that hatred becoming: a citizen Sfoes, with which we hate 
 all worthless men ? There was plenty of reason for Clodius 
 to hate Milo, first, as the defender of my safety ; secondly, 
 as the repressor of his frenzy ? the defeater of his arms ; and 
 lastlv, also, as his prosecutor, for Clodius was liable to the 
 prosecution of Milo, according to the provisions of the Plotian 
 law, as long as he lived. And with what feelings do you sup- 
 pose that that tyrant bore that ? how great do you suppose, 
 was his hatred toward him? and, indeed, how reasonable a 
 hatred was it for a wicked man to entertain. 
 
 XIV. It remains for me now to urge his natural disposition 
 and his habits of life in the defense of the one, and the very 
 same things as an accusation against the other. Clodius, I 
 suppose, had never done any thing by violence ; Milo had done 
 every thing by violence. What then shall I say, O judges'? 
 When, amid the grief of all of you, I departed from the city, 
 was I afraid of the result of a trial? was I not afraid of 
 slaves, and arms and violence? What, I pray you, was the 
 first ground of my restoration, except that I had been unjustly 
 driven out ? Clodius, I suppose, had commenced a formal 
 
 N 
 
190 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 prosecution against me ; he had named a sum as damages ; 
 he had commenced an action for high treason ; and, I sup- 
 pose too, I had cause to fear your decision in a cause which 
 was an unjust one, which was my own private cause, not one 
 which was a most righteous one, and which was, in reality, 
 your cause, and not mine ? No, — I was unwilling that my 
 fellow-citizens, who had been saved by my prudence and by 
 my own personal danger, should be exposed to the arms 
 of slaves and needy citizens and convicted malefactors. For 
 I saw — I saw, I say, this very Quintus Hortensius, the light 
 and ornament of the republic, almost slain by the hand of 
 slaves, while he was standing by me. In which crowd Caius 
 Vibienus, a senator, a most excellent man, who was with 
 Hortensius, was so maltreated that he lost his life. 
 
 When, then, was it that that assassin's dagger of his, 
 which he had received from Catiline, rested? It was aimed 
 at us ; I would not allow you all to be exposed to it' for 
 my sake. It was prepared in treachery for Pompeius. It 
 stained with blood, through the murder of Papirius, the very 
 Appian road, the monument of his name ; this, this same 
 dagger, after a long interval was again turned against me; 
 lately, as you know, it nearly murdered me close to the palace 
 of Ancus. 
 
 What is there of Milo's conduct like all this? when all the 
 violence that he has ever displayed has amounted to this, that 
 he wished to prevent Publius Clodius (as he could not be 
 brought to trial) from oppressing the city by violence. And 
 if he wished to put him to death, what great, what repeated, 
 and what splendid opportunities he had of doing so ! Might 
 he not have avenged himself without violating the law when 
 he was defending his own house and his household gods from 
 his attacks'? might he not have done so when that illustrious 
 citizen and most gallant man, Publius Sextius, his own col- 
 league, was wounded ? might he not have done so when that 
 most excellent man, Quintus Fabricius, while carrying a bill 
 for my restoration, was driven away, and when a most cruel 
 slaughter was taking place in the forum % Might he not have 
 done so when the house of Lucius Ccecilius, that most upright 
 and fearless praetor, was attacked ? might he not have done 
 so on the day on which the law concerning me was passed, 
 and when that vast concourse of people from all parts of Italy, 
 whom a regard for my safety had roused up, would have gladly 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 191 
 
 recognized and adopted as its own the glory of that action 1 
 so that, even if Milo had performed it, the whole state would 
 claim the praise of it as belonging to itself? 
 
 XV. And what a time was it? A most illustrious and 
 fearless consul, Publius Lentulus, an enemy to Clodius, the 
 avenger of his wickedness, the bulwark of the senate, the de- 
 fender of your inclinations, the patron of that general una^ 
 nimity, the restorer of my safety ; seven prsetors, eight tribunes 
 of the people, adversaries of him, defenders of me ; Cna^us 
 Pompeius, the prime mover of and chief agent in my return, 
 his open enemy ; whose opinion respecting my return, deliv- 
 ered in the most dignified and rnos>1 f complimentary language^ 
 the whole senate adopted ; he who exhorted the whole Ro- 
 man people, and, when he passed a decree concerning me at 
 Capua, gave himself the signal to all Italy, which was eager 
 for it, and which was imploring his good faith, to join together 
 for the purpose of restoring me to Rome ; in short, universal 
 hatred on the part of all the citizens, was excited against him, 
 while their minds were inflamed with as earnest a regret for 
 me ; so that if any one had slain him at that time, people's 
 thoughts would have been, not how to procure impunity for 
 such a man, but how to reward him sufficiently. 
 
 Nevertheless, Milo restrained himself, and twice summoned 
 Publius Clodius before the court, but never once invited him 
 to a trial of strength in scenes of violence. What do I say % 
 while Milo was a private individual, and on his trial before 
 the people, on the accusation of Publius Clodius, when an at- 
 tack was made on Cnaeus Pompeius, while speaking in defense 
 of Milo, was there not then not only an admirable opportunity 
 of, but even a reasonable pretext for slaying him 1 And lately, 
 when Marcus Antonius had inspired all virtuous men with the 
 very greatest hope of safety, and when he, being a most noble 
 young man, had with the greatest gallantry espoused the cause 
 of the republic, and had that beast almost in his toils in spite 
 of his avoiding the snares of the law ; what an opportunity, 
 what a time and place was there, O ye immortal gods ! And 
 when Clodius had fled and hidden himself in the darkness of 
 the -stairs, there was a fine opportunity for Milo to slay him 
 without incurring the slightest odium himself, and to load 
 Antonius at the same time with the greatest glory ! What ? 
 How repeatedly had he a similar chance in the comitia ! when 
 he had broken into the voting booth, and contrived to have 
 
192 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 swords drawn and stones thrown, and then on a sudden, terrf- 
 fied at the look of Milo, fled toward the Tiber, and you and all 
 virtuous men prayed to heaven that Milo might take it into 
 his head to give full scope to his valor. 
 
 XVI. If then he did not choose to slay him, when he might 
 have done so with the gratitude of every one, is it likely that 
 he should have chosen to do so when some people were sure 
 to complain of it? If he did not venture to do it when he 
 might have done so lawfully, when he hacl both place and 
 time in his favor, when he might have done so with impu- 
 nity, can we believe that be did not hesitate to slay him un- 
 justly at a time and place which supplied him with no ex- 
 cuse for the deed, when it was at the hazard of his life ? es- 
 pecially, O judges, when the day of contest for the greatest 
 distinction of the state, and the day of the comitia, was at 
 hand. At which time, (for I know what a nervous thing 
 ambition is, how vehement and how anxious is the desire for 
 the consulship.) we are afraid of every thing, not only of those 
 things which can be openly found fault with, but even of what- 
 ever can be secretly thought ; we shudder at every rumor, at 
 every idle and empty story ; we look anxiously at every one's 
 countenance, at every one's eye. For there is nothing so soft, 
 so tender, so frail, so flexible, as the inclinations and feelings 
 of our fellow-citizens toward us ; for they are not only angry 
 at any impropriety in the conduct of candidates, but they often 
 even take a disgust at our virtuous actions. 
 
 Did Milo then, keeping in view this long hoped-for and 
 wished-for day of the Campus Martius, propose to himself to 
 come to those venerable auspices of the centuries with bloody 
 hands, owning and confessing a wickedness and a crime 1 How 
 perfectly incredible is such conduct in such a man ! At the 
 same time, how undoubted is it in the case of Clodius, who 
 thought that he should be a kino; as soon as Milo was slain. 
 What shall I say more ? This is the very mainspring of au- 
 dacity, O judges, for who is there who does not know that 
 the greatest temptation of all to do wrong is the hope of im- 
 punity 1 Now, in which of the two did this exist ! In Milo ? 
 who is even now on his trial for an action which I contend 
 was an illustrious one, but which was at all events a nec- 
 essary one ; or in Clodius "? who had shown such contempt 
 for courts of justice and punishment, that he took no pleasure 
 in any thing which was not either impious, from its disregard 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 193 
 
 of the prohibitions of nature, or illegal, from its violation of 
 
 law. 
 
 But what am I arguing about ! why do I keep on disput- 
 ing at greater length ? I appeal to you, O Quintus Petiilius, 
 a most virtuous and fearless citizen ; I call you to witness, O 
 Marcus Cato ; whom some heavenly interposition has given me 
 forjudges. You have heard from Marcus Favonius, and you 
 heard it too while Clodius was alive, that he, Clodius, had said 
 to him that Milo would die within three days, — and on the 
 third day the deed which he had mentioned was put in execu- 
 tion. When he did not hesitate to reveal what he was think- 
 ing of, can you have any doubt what he did *? 
 
 XVII. How then was it, that he was so correct in the day? 
 I told you that just now. There was no great difficulty in 
 knowing the regular days of sacrifice for the dictator of Lanu- 
 Tium. He saw that it was necessary for Milo to go to Lanu- 
 vium on the very day in which he did go, — therefore, he an- 
 ticipated him. But on what day f Why, on the day on which, 
 as I have said before, there was a most furious assembly of the 
 people, stirred up by the tribune of the people whom he had 
 in his pay — a day, and an assembly, and an uproar which he 
 would never have missed if he had not been hastening to some 
 premeditated crime. Therefore, he had not only no reason for 
 going on a journey, but he had even a reason for stopping at 
 4ioine. Milo had no possibility of stopping at home, and he 
 had not only a reason, but a positive necessity for going on a 
 journey. What more ? Suppose, while he knew that Milo 
 must go on the road on that day, so, on the other hand, Milo ** 
 could not even suspect that Clodius would 1 For, first of all, 
 I ask, how could Milo know it ? a question which you can not 
 ask respecting Clodius. For even if he had not asked any one 
 beyond his own intimate friend Titus Patina, he could have as- 
 certained from him that on that particular day a priest must 
 absolutely be appointed at Lanuvium by Milo as the dictator 
 there. / But there were plenty more people from whom he could 
 easily learn that ; for instance, all the people of Lanuvium. Of 
 whom did Milo make any inquiry about the return of Clodius? 
 Grant that he did make inquiry ; see what large allowances I 
 am making you : grant even that he bribed his slave, as my \ 
 good friend Quintus Arrius said. — Read the evidence of your 
 own witnesses. 
 
 Caius Cassinius Schola, a man of Interamna, gave his ev- 
 
 I 
 
194 pICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 idencc, — a most intimate friend of Publius Clodius, and more, 
 a companion of his at the very time ; according to whose testi- . 
 mony, Publius Clodius was at Interamna and at Pome at the 
 very same time. Well, he said, that Publius Clodius had in- 
 tended to remain that day at his Alban villa ; but that on a 
 sudden news was brought to him, that Cyrus his architect was 
 dead ; and, therefore, that he determined to proceed to Rome 
 immediately. Caius Clodius, who was also a companion of 
 Publius Clodius, said the same. 
 
 XVIII. Take notice, O judges, what the real effect of this 
 evidence must be. First of all, Milo is certainly acquitted of 
 having set out with the express intention of waylaying Clodius 
 on his road ; this must be, since there was apparently no chance 
 whatever of his meeting him. In the next place (for I see no 
 reason why I should not do something for myself at the same 
 time), you know, O judges, that there have been men found to 
 say, while urging on this bill against Milo, that the murder was 
 committed by the hand indeed of Milo^ but by the plan of some 
 one of more importance than he. yThose abject and profligate 
 men, forsooth, pointed me out as a robber and assassin. Now 
 they lie convicted by their own witnesses, who say that Clodius 
 would not have returned to Rome that day if he had not heard 
 the news about Cyrus. I breathed again ; I was delivered ; 
 I am not any longer afraid of being supposed to have contem- 
 plated an action which I could not possibly have suspected. 
 
 Now I will examine the other point. For this expression 
 occurs in their speech : " Therefore, Clodius never even thought 
 of the plot against Milo, since he intended to remain in his Al- 
 ban villa." Yes, he meant to remain there, if he did not rath- 
 er intend to go out and commit a murder. For I see that the 
 messenger who is said to have brought him news of Cyrus's 
 death did not announce that to him, but told him that Milo 
 was at hand. For why should lie bring any news about Cy- 
 rus, whom Clodius had left at Rome on his death-bed '? I was 
 with him ; I signed his will as a witness together with Clodi- 
 us; and he had openly made his will, and had left him and me 
 his heirs. When he had left him the day before, at the third 
 hour, at the very point of death, was news sent express to him 
 the next day, at the tenth hour, that he was at last dead? 
 
 XIX. Well, be it so; what reason had he for hastening to 
 Rome? for starting at nightfall? Why should the fact of his 
 being his heir cause him to make so much haste? In the first 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 195 
 
 place, there was no reason why there should be need of any 
 haste ; secondly, even if there was, still what was there which 
 he could obtain that night, but which he would lose if he ar- 
 rived at Rome early the next morning 1 ? And as an arrival 
 in the city by night was rather to be avoided by him than to 
 be desired, so it was just suited for Milo to lie in ambush and 
 wait for him, as he was a plotter of that sort, if he knew that 
 he was likely to come to the city by night. He would have 
 slain him by night, in a place calculated for an ambush and 
 full of robbers ; no one would have refused to believe him if 
 he denied it, when now all men wish" to save him even when 
 he confesses it. The brunt of the blame would have fallen 
 on the place itself, so well suited to receive and conceal rob^- 
 bers, while neither -the voiceless solitude would have informed 
 against, nor the dark night discovered Milo ; secondly, the 
 numbers of men who had been insulted by Clodius, or plun- 
 dered by him, or stripped of all their property by -him, many, 
 too, who were in constant fear of such misfortunes, would have 
 fallen under suspicion ; in short, the whole of Etruria would 
 have been impeached in people's opinion. 
 
 And certainly on that day Clodius returning from Aricia did 
 turn aside to xiis Alban villa. But although Milo knew that 
 he was at Aricia, still he ought to have suspected that he, even 
 if he was desirous to return to Rome that day, would turn aside 
 to his own villa, the grounds of which skirted the road. Why, 
 then, did he not meet him before, and prevent his going to his 
 villa? nor wait in that place where he would certainly arrive 
 by night ? 
 
 I see that all things up to this point are plain and consist- 
 ent. That it was even desirable for Milo that Clodius should 
 live ; that for Clodius the death of Milo was the most advan- 
 tageous thing possible, with reference to those objects on which 
 he had set his heart ; that he bore him the most bitter hatred^ 
 but that Milo had no such feelings toward him ; that the one 
 lived in a perpetual round of violence, that the other's habits 
 were limited to repelling.jt ; that Milo had been threatened 
 by him with death, and that his death had been openly pre- 
 dicted by him ; that no such expression had ever been heard 
 from Milo ; that the day of Milo's journey was well known 
 to Clodius, but that Clodius's return was unknown to Milo; 
 that the journey of the one was inevitable, and that of the 
 other was even inconvenient to himself; that the one had 
 
196 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 openly declared that on that day he should set out from 
 Koine, that the other had concealed the fact of his intending 
 to return on that day ; that the one had in no respect what- 
 ever changed his intention, that the other had invented a false 
 pretense for changing his mind ; that the one, if he were plot- 
 ting, would naturally wish night to come on when he was near 
 the city, while an arrival at the city by night was to be feared 
 by the other, even if he had no apprehension of danger from 
 this man. 
 
 XX. Let us now consider this, which is the main point of 
 all; for which of the two the identical spot where they did 
 meet was the best suited for planting an ambush. But is that, 
 O judges, a matter about which one can possibly doubt or 
 think seriously for a moment 1 In front of Clodius's farm, — 
 that farm on which, on account of those absurd erections and 
 excavations for foundations of his, there were pretty well a 
 thousand vigorous men employed, — on that high and raised 
 ground belonging to his adversary, did Milo think that he 
 should get the better in the contest, and had he with that 
 view selected that spot above all others? Or was he rather 
 waited for in that place by a man who had conceived the idea 
 of attacking, because of the hopes that that particular spot 
 suggested to him 1 The facts, O judges, speak for themselves ; 
 facts, which are always of the greatest weight in a cause. If 
 you were not hearing of this transaction, but were looking at 
 a picture of it, still it would be quite visible which of the 
 two was the plotter, which was thinking no evil, when one of 
 the two was driving in a chariot wrapped up in a mantle, with 
 bis wife sitting by his side. It is hard to say which was the 
 greatest hinderance to him, his dress, or his carriage, or his 
 wife. How could a man be less ready for battle than when 
 he was entangled in a mantle as in a net, hampered with a 
 carriage, and fettered as it were by his wife clinging to him ? 
 / ~Cook, on the other hand, at Clodius, first setting out from his 
 villa ; all on a sudden : why ? It was evening. Why was he 
 forced to set out at such a time ? Going slowly. What was 
 the object of that, especially at that time of night ? He turns 
 aside to the villa of Pompeius. To see Pompeius? He knew 
 that he was near Alsium. To see the villa? He had been in 
 it a thousand times. What, then, was his object? Delay; 
 he wanted to waste, the time. He did not choose to leave the 
 Spot till Milo arrived. 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 197 
 
 XXI. Come now, compare the journey of this unencum- 
 bered bandit with all the hinderances which beset Milo. Be- 
 fore this time he always used to travel with his wife; now 
 he was without her. He invariably went in a carriage ; now 
 he was on horseback. His train were a lot of Greeklings 
 wherever he was going ; even when he was hastening to the 
 camp in Etrnria; 1 but this time there were no triflers in his 
 retinue. Milo, who was never in the habit of doing so, did by 
 chance have with him some musical slaves belonging to his 
 wife, and troops of maid servants. The other man, who was 
 always carrying with him prostitutes, worn-out debauchees 
 both men and women, this time had no one with him except 
 such a band that you might have thought every one of themj 
 picked men. Why, then, was he defeated ? Because the trav- 
 eler is not always murdered by the robber; sometimes the 
 robber is killed by the traveler; because, although Clodius 
 in a state of perfect preparation was attacking men wholly 
 unprepared, still it was the case of a woman falling upon men. 
 And, indeed, Milo was never so utterly unprepared for his 
 violence, as not to be nearly sufficiently prepared. He wai> 
 always aware how greatly it concerned the interest of Publius 
 Clodius that he should be slain, how greatly he hated him, 
 and how great was his daring. Wherefore, he never exposed 
 his life to danger without some sort of protection and guard, 
 knowing that it was threatened, and that a large price, as it 
 were, were set upon it. 
 
 Add to this consideration all the chances ; add the always 
 uncertain result of a battle, and the common fortune of Mars, 
 who often overthrows the man who is already exulting and 
 stripping his enemy, and strikes him to the ground by some 
 mean agent ; add the blundering conduct of a leader who had 
 dined and drank, and who was yawning and drowsy; who, 
 when he had left his enemy cut off in the rear, never thought 
 of his companions on the outskirts of his train; and then 
 when he fell among them inflamed with anger, and despairing 
 of saving the life of their master, he fell on that punishment 
 which the faithful slaves inflicted on him as a retribution 
 for their master's deatn. Why, then, has Milo emancipated 
 them? He was afraid, I suppose, lest they should give in- 
 formation against him; lest they should be unable to bear 
 
 1 That is, to Manlius's camp in Etruria at the time of Cataline's con- 
 spiracy, in which, in all probability, Clodius was implicated. 
 
198 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 pain ; lest they should he eompelled by tortures to confess 
 that Publius Clodius was slain in the Appian road by the 
 slaves of Milo. 
 
 What need is there of any torturer? What do you want 
 to know ? whether he was slain f He was slain. Whether he 
 was slain lawfully or unlawfully? That is beyond the prov- 
 ince of the torturer. For the rack can only inquire into the 
 fact ; it is the bench of judges that must decide on the law. 
 
 XXII. Let us then here confine our attention to what 
 must be investigated in this trial. All that you can want to 
 find out by tortures we admit. But if you prefer asking why 
 he emancipated his slaves, rather than why he gave them in- 
 adequate rewards, you are but a bungling hand at finding fault 
 with an enemy. For Marcus Cato, who says every thing with 
 great wisdom, and consistency, and courage, said the same 
 thing ; and he said, too, in a very turbulent assembly of the 
 people, which, however, was pacified by his authority, that 
 those slaves were w r orthy not only of liberty, but even of every 
 sort of reward possible, who had defended the life of their 
 master. For what reward can be sufficiently great for such 
 well-affected, such virtuous, such faithful slaves, owing to 
 whom it is that he is still alive ? Although even that is not 
 putting it so strongly as to say, that it is owing to those very 
 men that he did not glut the eyes and 'mind of his most cruel 
 enemy with his blood and w r ounds. And if he had not 
 emancipated them, then those preservers of their master, 
 those avengers of wickedness, those defenders of * their master 
 from death, must have even been surrendered to torture. 
 But in all these misfortunes the most comfortable reflection 
 which Milo has is, that, even if any thing should happen to 
 himself, still he has given them the reward which they de- 
 served. 
 
 But now r the examinations which have just been conducted 
 in the hall of liberty, are said to press against Milo. Who 
 are the slaves who have been examined ? Do you ask ? The 
 slaves of Publius Clodius. Who demanded that they should 
 be examined? Appius. Who produced them? Appius. 
 Where were they brought from ? From the house of Appius. 
 O ye good gods, what can be done with more animosity? 
 There is no law which authorizes slaves to be examined as 
 witnesses against their master, except on accusations of im- 
 piety, as was the case in the prosecution instituted against 
 
) 
 
 FOR T. A. MILO. 199 
 
 Clodius. Clodius has been raised nearly to the gods, more 
 nearly than even when he penetrated into their sanctuary, 
 when an investigation into the circumstances of his death is 
 carried on like one into a profanation of sacred ceremonies. 
 But still, our ancestors did not think it right that slaves should 
 be examined as witnesses against their masters ; not because 
 the truth could not be discovered, but because it seemed a 
 scandalous thing to do, and more oppressive to the masters 
 than even death itself. "Well, then, when the slaves of the 
 prosecutor are examined as witnesses against the defendant, 
 can the truth be found out? 
 
 Come, however, what was the examination ; and how was 
 it conducted 1 Holloa, you Eufio (that name will do as well 
 as another), take care you tell the truth. Did Clodius lay 
 a plot against Milo? "He did." He is sure to be crucified 
 for saying so. " Certainly not." He has hopes of obtaining 
 his liberty. "What can be more certain than this mode of ex- 
 amination? The men are suddenlv carried off to be examined ; 
 they are separated from all the rest, and put into ceils that no 
 one may be able to speak to them. Then, when they have 
 been kept a hundred days in the power of the prosecutor, 
 they are produced as witnesses by the prosecutor himself. 
 What can be imagined more upright than this sort of ex- 
 amination ? What can be more free from all suspicion of 
 corruption 1 
 
 XXIII. And if you do not yet see with sufficient clearness 
 (though the transaction is evident of itself by so many and 
 such irresistible arguments and proofs), that Milo was return- 
 ing to Rome with a pure and guiltless intention, with no taint 
 of wickedness, under no apprehension, without any conscious- 
 ness of crime to disquiet him ; recollect, I implore you, in 
 the name of the immortal gods, how rapid his speed while 
 returning was ; how he entered the forum while the senate- 
 house was all on fire with eagerness ; how great was the mag- 
 nanimity which he displayed; how he looked, and what he 
 eaid. Nor did he trust himself to the people only, but also 
 to the senate ; nor to the senate only, but also to the public 
 guards and their arms ; nor to them only, but also to the 
 power of that man to whom the senate had already intrusted 1 
 
 1 The disturbances on the death of Clodius arose to such a height, that 
 the senate at last passed a resolution that Marcus Lepidus the Interrex, 
 assisted by the tribunes of the people and Pompeius, should take care that 
 
200 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the whole republic, all the youth of Italy, and all the arms 
 of the Eoman people. And surely he never would have put 
 himself in his power, if he had not been confident in the jus- 
 tice of his cause ; especially as he was one who heard every 
 thing, and feared great danger, and suspected many things, 
 and even believed some. The power of conscience is very 
 great, O judges, and is of great weight on both sides: so that 
 they fear nothing who have done no wrong, and they, on the 
 other hand, who have done wrong think that punishment is 
 always hanging over them. 
 
 Nor, indeed, is it without good reason that Milo's cause has 
 always been approved of by the senate. For these wisest of 
 men took into their consideration the whole circumstances of 
 the case ; Milo's presence of mind, and vigor in defending 
 himself. Have you forgotten, O judges, when the news of 
 Clodius's death was still recent, the opinions and the language 
 which was held, not only by Milo's enemies, but also by other 
 ignorant people? They said that he would not return to 
 Home at all. For if he had committed the deed in a passion- 
 ate and excited mood, so that he had slain his enemy while 
 under the influence of strong hatred, they thought that he 
 would consider the death of Publius Glodius an event of such 
 importance, that he would bear being deprived of his country 
 with equanimity, as he had sated his hatred in the blood of 
 his enemy ; or, if he had deliberately intended to deliver his 
 
 r country by the slaughter of Clodius, then they thought that 
 he, as a brave man, would not hesitate, after having brought 
 safety to his country at his own risk, to submit with equanim- 
 ity to the laws, to carry off with himself everlasting renown, 
 and to leave those things to us to enjoy which he had pre- 
 served for us himself. 
 
 Many also spoke of Catiline and the monsters of his train. 
 " We shall have another Catiline breaking out. He will oc~ 
 
 the republic received no injury. And at last the senate appointed Pom- 
 peius consul without a colleague, who immediately published several new 
 laws, and among them the one under which this trial was conducted (see 
 note on c. 1), and he now limited the duration of trials, allowing only 
 three days for the examination of witnesses, and on the fourth day the ac- 
 cuser was only allowed two hours to enforce the accusation, and the de- 
 fendant three hours to speak in his defense. Coclius endeavored to arrest 
 these laws by his veto as tribune, declaring that they were framed solely 
 with a view to crush Milo, whom Pompeius certainly desired to get rid 
 of; to effect which he even descended to the artifice of pretending to be- 
 lieve that Milo had laid a plot to assassinate him. 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 201 
 
 ctipy some strong place ; he will make war on his country." 
 Wretched sometimes is the fate of those citizens who have 
 faithfully served the republic ! when men not only forget the 
 illustrious exploits which they have performed, but even sus- 
 pect them of the most nefarious designs ! Therefore, all those 
 things were false, which would certainly have turned out true 
 if Milo had committed any action which he could not defend 
 with honor and with truth. 
 
 XXIV. What shall I say of the charges which were after- 
 ward heaped upon him % which would have crushed any one 
 who was conscious of even trifling offenses. How nobly did 
 he support them! O ye immortal gods, do I say support 
 them? Say rather, how did he despise them, and treat them 
 as nothing ! Charges which no guilt)' man, were he ever so 
 high-minded, and, indeed, no innocent man, unless he were 
 also a most fearless man, could possibly have disregarded. It 
 was said that a vast collection of shields, swords, bridles, 
 lances, and javelins had been seized. They said that there 
 was no street, no alley in the whole city, in which there was 
 not a house hired for Milo ; that arms had been earned down 
 the Tiber to his villa at Oriculum ; that his house on the 
 Capitoline Hill was full of shields ; that eveiy place was full 
 of firebrands prepared for the burning of the city. These 
 things were not only reported, but were almost believed, and 
 were not rejected till they had been thorodghly investigated 
 I praised, indeed, the incredible diligence of Cnseus Pompeius ; 
 but still I will say what I really think, O judges. 
 
 Those men are compelled to listen to too many statements ; 
 indeed, they can not do otherwise, who have the whole republic 
 intrusted to them. It was necessary even to listen to that 
 eating-house keeper Licinius, if that was his name, a fellow 
 out of the Circus Maximus, who said that Milo's slaves had 
 got drunk in his house, — that they had confessed to him that 
 they were engaged in a conspiracy to assassinate Cnaus Pom- 
 peius, and that he himself was afterward stabbed by one of 
 them to prevent him from giving information. He went to 
 t'ompeius's villa to tell him this. I am sent for among the 
 first, By the advice of his friends, Pompeius reports the affair 
 to the senate. It was impossible for me to be otherwise than 
 frightened almost to death at the bare suspicion of such danger 
 to one who was the protector both of me and of my country ; 
 but still I wondered that an eating-house keeper should be at 
 
 12 
 
202 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 once believed, — that the confession of the slaves should be list* 
 er>d to, and that a wound in the side, which looked like the v 
 prick of a needle, should be admitted to be a wound inflicted 
 by a gladiator. But, as I take the fact to have been, Pom- 
 peius was rather taking precautions than feeling any actual 
 alarm, guarding not only against those things which it was 
 reasonable to fear, but also against everything which could 
 possibly disquiet you. 
 
 The house of Caius Caesar, that most illustrious and gallant 
 man, was besieged, as was reported, during many hours of the 
 night. No one in that frequented part of the city had either 
 seen or heard of any such thing. Still such a report was spread 
 about. I could not possibly suspect Cnseus Pompeius, a man 
 of the most admirable valor, of being timid ; and I thought no 
 diligence could be overstrained in a man who had undertaken 
 the management and protection of the whole of the republic. 
 In a very full meeting of the senate, lately held in the Capitol, 
 a senator was found to say that Milo had a weapon about him. 
 He threw back his garments in that most sacred temple, that, 
 since the life of so good a citizen and so good a man "could not 
 procure him credit, the facts themselves might speak for him, 
 while he held his peace. 
 
 XXV. Every word was ascertained to be a false and treach- 
 erous invention. And if people are even now afraid of Milo, 
 we are not now under apprehension because of the charge re- 
 specting Clodius, but we are shuddering at your suspicions, — 
 at yours, I say, O Cnaeus Pompeius (for I address you your- 
 self, and I speak loudly so that you may be able to hear me). 
 If you are afraid of Milo, — if you believe that he either now 
 cherishes wicked designs against your life, or that he ever has 
 entertained such ; if the levying of troops throughout Italy, as 
 some of your recruiting-sergeants pretend, — if these arms, — 
 if these cohorts in the Capitol, — if these watchmen, these sen- 
 tinels, — if this picked body of youths, which is the guard of 
 your person and your house, is all armed against an attack on 
 the part of Milo ; and if all these measures have been arranged, 
 and prepared, and aimed against him alone, — then certainly he 
 must be a man of great power, of incredible courage; surely 
 it must be more than the power and resources of one single 
 man which are attributed to him, if the most eminent of our 
 generals is invested with a command, and all Italy is armed 
 against this one man. But who is there who does not under- 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 203 
 
 stand that all the diseased and feeble parts of the republic 
 were intrusted to you, O Fompeius, that you might heal and 
 strengthen them with your arms? And if an opportunity 
 had been afforded to Milo, he would, doubtless, have proved 
 to you yourself that no man was ever more dear to another 
 than you are to him ; that he had never shunned any danger 
 which might be of service in promoting your dignity ; that he 
 had often contended against that most foul pest on behalf of 
 your glory ; that his conduct in his tribuneship had been en- 
 tirely regulated by your counsels for the protection of my safe- 
 ty, which was an object very dear to you ; that he afterward 
 had been defended by you when in danger of his life, 1 and had 
 been assisted by you when he was a candidate for the praetor- 
 ship ; and that he had always believed that the two firmest 
 friends whom he had were you and I, — you, as shown by the 
 kindness of your behavior to him, and I, secured to him by the 
 services which he himself had done me. And if he could not 
 convince you of this, — if that suspicion had sunk so deep in 
 your mind that it could not possibly be eradicated; if, in 
 short, Italy was never to have any rest from those levies, nor 
 the. city from arms, till Milo was ruined, — then no doubt he, 
 without hesitation, would have departed from his country, a 
 man born to make such sacrifices and accustomed to make 
 them ; but still he would have cited you, O Magnus, as a wit- 
 ness in his favor, as he now does. 
 
 XXVI. See, now, how various and changeable is the course 
 of human life, — how fickle and full of revolutions is fortune ; 
 what instances of perfidy are seen in friends, how they dissem- 
 ble and suit their behavior to the occasion ; when dangers be- 
 set one, how one's nearest connections fly off, and what cow- 
 ardice they show. The time will come, ay, will most certain- 
 ly come, — that day will surely dawn some time or other, when 
 you, though your affairs are all, as I trust they will be, in a 
 really sound condition, though they may, perhaps, wear an 
 altered appearance in consequence of some commotion of the 
 times, such as we are all liable to (and how constantly such 
 things happen we may know from experience), — when you, 
 
 1 When Clodius was sedile, he instituted a prosecution against Milo 
 for violence. Pompeius, Crassus and Cicero appeared for him ; and 
 though Clodius's mob raised a great uproar, and endeavored to prevent 
 Pompeius from being heard, he made a long speech, lasting three hours, 
 in his defense. The trial was adjourned from February till May, and doea 
 Dot appear to have ever been brought to a regular termination. 
 
204 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 I say, may be in need of the good-will of one who is most 
 deeply attached to you, and the good faith of a man of the 
 greatest weight and dignity, and the magnanimity of the very 
 bravest man that ever lived in the world. Although, who 
 would believe that Cmeus Pompeius, a man most thoroughly 
 versed in public law, in the usages of our ancestors, and in all 
 the affairs of the republic, after the senate has intrusted to 
 him the charge of taking care " that the republic suffered no 
 injury," by which one line the consuls have always been suf- 
 ficiently armed, even though no warlike weapons were given 
 to them, — that he, I say, after having had an army and a levy 
 of troops given to him, would wait for a legal decision to re- 
 press the designs of that man who was seeking by violence to 
 abolish the courts of justice themselves? 
 
 It was sufficiently decided by Pompeius, quite sufficiently, 
 that all those charges were falsely brought against IVIilo ; when 
 he passed a law by which, as I conceive, he was bound to be 
 acquitted by you, — at all events, as all men allow, might le- 
 gally be acquitted. But when he sits in that place, surround- 
 ed by all those bands of public guards, he declares plainly 
 k enough that he is not striking terror into you ((or what could 
 l\be less worthy of him than to condemn a man whom he him- 
 \self might punish if guilty, both by his own authority and in 
 /strict accordance with the precedents of our ancestors?), but 
 that he keeps them about him for the sake of protection ; that 
 you may be aware that it is allowed to you to decide with 
 freedom according to your own opinions, in contradiction to 
 that assembly of the people which was held yesterday. 
 
 XXVII. Nor, O judges, am I at all moved by the accusa- 
 tion respecting Clodius. Nor am I so insane, and so ignorant 
 of, and inexperienced in, your feelings, as not to be aware what 
 your opinions are about the death of Clodius, concerning 
 which, if I were unwilling to do away with the accusation in 
 the manner in which I have done away with it, still I assert 
 that it would have been lawful for Milo to proclaim openly, 
 with a false but glorious boast, " I have slain, I have slain, 
 not Spurius Melius, who fell under the suspicion of. aiming at 
 kingly power by lowering the price of corn, and by squander- 
 ing his own family estate, because by that conduct he was 
 thought to be paying too much court to the common people ; 
 not Tiberius Gracchus, who, out of a seditious spirit, abro- 
 gated the magistracy of his own colleague whose slayers have 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 205 
 
 filled the whole world with the renown of their name ; but 
 nim" (for he would venture to name him when he had deliv- 
 ered his country at his own risk) *> m ho was detected in the 
 most infamous adultery in the most sacred shrine, by most no- 
 ble women ; him, by the execution of whom the senate has re- 
 peatedly resolved that solemn religious observances required to 
 be propitiated ; him whom Lucius Lucullus, when he was ex- 
 amined on the point, declared on his oath that he had detected 
 in committing unhallowed incest with his own sister ; him, 
 who by means of armed bands of slaves drove from his country 
 that citizen whom the senate, whom the Roman people, whom 
 all nations had declared to be the saviour of the city and of the 
 lives of all the citizens ; him, w r ho gave kingdoms, took them 
 away, and distributed the whole world to whomsoever he 
 pleased ; him who, after having committed numberless mur- 
 ders in the forum, drove a citizen of the most extraordinary 
 virtue and glory to his own house by violence and by arms ; 
 him, to whom nothing was ever too impious to be done, wheth- 
 er it was a deed of atrocity or of lust ; him, who burnt the tem- 
 ple of the nymphs, in order to extinguish the public record of 
 the census which was committed to the public registers ; last- 
 ly, him who acknowledged no law, no civil rights, no bound- 
 aries to any man's possessions, — who sought to obtain other 
 people's estates, not by actions at law and false accusations, 
 not by unjust claims and false oaths, but by camps, by an 
 army, by regular standards and all the pomp of war, — who, 
 by means of arms and soldiers, endeavored to drive from their 
 possessions, not only the Etrurians, for he thoroughly despised 
 them, but even this Publius Varius, that most gallant man 
 and most virtuous citizen, one of our judges, — who went into 
 many other people's villas and grounds with architects' and 
 surveyors, who limited his hopes of acquiring possessions by 
 Janiculum and the Alps ; him who, when he was unable to 
 prevail on an estimable and gallant Roman knight, Marcus 
 Paconius, to sell him his villa on the Prelian Lake, suddenly 
 conveyed timber, and lime, and mortar, and tools in barks to 
 the island, and while the owner of the island was looking at 
 him from the opposite bank, did not hesitate to build a house 
 on another man's land ; who said to Titus Furfanius — O ye 
 immortal gods, what a man ! (for why should I mention that 
 insignificant woman, Scantia, or that youth Aponius, both of 
 whom he threatened with dOh if they did not abandon to 
 
20G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 him the possession of their villas'?) but he dared to say to 
 Furfanius, that if he did not give him as much money as he 
 demanded, he would carry a dead body into his house, and so 
 raise a storm of unpopularity against him ; who turned his 
 brother Appius, a man connected with me by the most faith- 
 ful friendship, while he was absent, out of the possession of 
 his farm ; who determined to run a wall across the vestibule 
 of his sister's house in such a manner, and to draw the line 
 of foundation in such a direction, as not only to deprive his 
 sister of her vestibule, but of all access to her house, and of 
 her own threshold." a 
 
 XXVIII. Although all these things appeared such as might 
 be endured, — although he attacked with equal fury the repub- 
 lic, and private individuals, and men who were at a distance, 
 and men who were near, people who had no connection with 
 him, and his own relations ; yet somehow or other the incred- 
 ible endurance of the state had by long use grown hardened 
 and callous. But as for the things which were at hand, and 
 were impending over you, in what manner was it possible for 
 you either to avert them or to bear them ? If he had once 
 obtained real power, — I say nothing of our allies, of foreign 
 nations, and kings, and tetrarchs ; for you would have prayed 
 that he might turn himself against them rather than against 
 your possessions, your houses, and your money : money do I 
 say ? your children rather, — I solemnly swear he would never 
 have r estra ined himself from your children and from your_ 
 wives.^ jDo you think that these things are inventions of mine? \ 
 They are evident ; they are notorious to every one ; they are / 
 proved. Is it an invention of mine that he was about to en- 4 
 list an army of slaves in the city, by whose instrumentality 
 he might take possession of the whole republic, and of the 
 private fortune of every one ? 
 
 Wherefore, if Titus Annius, holding in his hand a bloody 
 sword, had cried out, " Come hither, I beg of you, and listen 
 to me, O citizens : I have slain Publius Clodius ; with this 
 sword and with this right hand I have turned aside from your 
 necks the frenzied attacks of that man whom we were unable 
 to restrain by any laws, or by any judicial proceedings what- 
 ever ; by my single efforts has it been brought to pass that 
 right, and equity, and laws, and liberty, and modesty, and 
 chastity remain in this city;" would there in truth have been 
 any reason to fear in what manner the city would receive this 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 207 
 
 announcement 1 For now, as it is, who is there who does not 
 approve of what has been done % who does not praise it ? who 
 does not both say and feel that of all men to whom recollec- 
 tion can reach back, Titus Annius has done the republic the 
 greatest service ; that of all men he has diffused the greatest 
 jov among the Eoman people, and over the whole of Italy, 
 and throughout all nations? I can not form a conception of 
 what would have been the old-fashioned joy of the Eoman 
 people. Already our age has seen many, and those most 
 illustrious victories, won by consummate generals; but not 
 one of them has brought with it a jov that either lasted so 
 long, or that was so excessive while it did last. 
 
 Commit this fact to memory, O judges. I trust that you 
 and your children will see many happy days in the republic. 
 On every such occasion these will always be your feelings, — 
 that if Publius Clodius had been alive, you never would have 
 seen one of them. We have been led now to conceive the 
 greatest, and, as I feel sure, the best-founded hopes, that this 
 very day, this most admirable man being made our consul, 
 when the licentiousness of men is checked, their evil passions 
 put down, the laws and courts of justice re-established on a 
 firm footing, will be a salutary day for the republic. Is there, 
 then, any one so insane as to think that he could have obtained 
 all this while Publius Clodius was alive 1 ? What? why, what 
 power of perpetual possession could you have had even in 
 those things which you possess as your private property and 
 in the strictest sense your own, while that frenzied man held 
 the reins of government % 
 
 XXIX. I have no fear, O judges, lest it should seem that, 
 because I am inflamed with hatred against him, on account of 
 my own personal enmity to the man, I am vomiting forth these 
 charges against him with more zeal than truth. In truth, 
 though it is natural that that should be an especial stimulus 
 to me, yet he was so completely the common enemy of all men, 
 that my own hatred only bore about its fair proportion to the 
 general detestation with which he was regarded. It can not 
 be expressed, O judges, it can not even be imagined, how much 
 wickedness, how much mischief there was in that man. 
 
 Moreover, attend to me with this idea, O judges. This in- 
 vestigation relates to the death of Publius Clodius. Imagine 
 in your minds, — for our thoughts are free, and contemplate 
 whatever they choose in such a manner that we do discern 
 
208 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 those things which we think we see ; — place, therefore, before 
 your mind's eye the image of this my condition ; if I am able 
 to induce you to acquit Milo, but still only on condition of 
 Publius Clodius being restored to life. What fear is that that 
 you show by your countenances? How would he affect you 
 if alive, when even now that he is dead he has so agitated you 
 by the bare thought of him? What? if Cna?us Pompeius 
 himself, who is a man of such virtue and such good fortune 
 that he has at all times been able to do things which no one 
 except him ever could have done, — if even he, I say, had been 
 able, in the same manner as he has ordered an investigation 
 into the death of Publius Clodius to take place, so also to 
 raise him from the dead, which do you think he would have 
 preferred to do? Even if out of friendship he had been 
 willing to raise him from the shades below, out of regard 
 for the republic he would not have done it. Yon, then, are 
 sitting now as avengers of the death of that man, whom 
 you would not restore to life if you thought it possible that 
 his life could be restored by you. And this investigation is 
 appointed to be made into the death of a man who would 
 never have seen such a law passed, if the law which ordered 
 the inquiry had been able to restore him to life. Ought, 
 then, the slayer of this man, if any such slayer there be, 
 to have any reason, while confessing the deed, to fear pun- 
 / ishment at the hand of those men whom he delivered by the 
 deed? 
 
 Grecian nations give the honors of the gods to those men 
 who have slain tyrants. What have I not seen at Athens? 
 what in the other cities of Greece ? What divine honors have 
 I not seen paid to such men ? What odes, what songs have I 
 not heard in their praise? They are almost consecrated to 
 immortality in the memories and worship of men. And will 
 you not only abstain from conferring any honors on the sa- 
 viour of so great a people, and the avenger of such enormous 
 wickedness, but will you even allow him to be borne off for 
 punishment? lie would confess, — I say, if he had done it, 
 he would confess with a high and willing spirit that he had 
 done it for the sake of the general liberty ; a thing which 
 would certainly deserve not only to be confessed by him, but 
 even to be boasted of. 
 
 XXX. In truth, if. he does not deny an action from which 
 he seeks no advantage beyond being pardoned for having <iono 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 209 
 
 it, would he hesitate to avow an action for which he would be 
 entitled to claim rewards? Unless indeed he thinks it more 
 pleasing to you to look upon him as having been the defender 
 of his own life, rather than of you ; especially as from that 
 confession, if you were to choose to be grateful, he would reap 
 the very highest honors. If his action were not approved of 
 by you (although, how is it possible that any one should not 
 approve of what secured his own safety?), — but still, if the 
 virtue of a most gallant man had happened to be at all un- 
 pleasing to his fellow-citizens, then with a lofty and firm mind 
 he would depart from an ungrateful city. For what could be 
 more ungrateful than for all other men to be rejoicing, and 
 for him alone to be mourning, to whom it was owing that the 
 rest were rejoicing-? Although we have all at all times been 
 of this disposition with respect to crushing traitors to our 
 country, — that since the glory would be ours, w r e should con- 
 sider the danger and the unpopularity ours also. For what 
 praise should I have deserved to have given to me, when I 
 showed so much courage in my consulship on behalf of you 
 and of your children, if I had supposed that I could venture 
 on the exploits which I was attempting without very great 
 struggles and dangers to mvself ? What woman is there who 
 would not dare to slay a wicked and mischievous citizen, if 
 she was not afraid of the danger of the attempt? But the 
 man who, though unpopularity, and death, and punishment 
 are before his eyes, still ventures to defend the republic with 
 no less alacritv than if no such evils threatened him, he de- 
 serves to be considered really a man. 
 
 It behooves a grateful people to rew r ard those citizens who 
 have deserved well of the republic ; it is the part of a brave 
 man, not to be so moved even by execution itself, as to repent 
 of having acted bravely. Wherefore, Titus Annius may well 
 make the same confession which Ahala made, which Xasica, 
 which Opimius, which Marius, which we ourselves have made : 
 and then, if the republic were grateful, he would rejoice ; if 
 ungrateful, then, though under the pressure of heavy misfor- 
 tune, he would still be supported by his own conscience. 
 
 But, O judges, the fortune of the Roman people, and your 
 felicity, and the immortal gods, all think that they are enti- 
 tled to vour gratitude for this service which has been thus 
 done to you. Xor, indeed, can any one think otherwise ex- 
 cept it be a man who thinks that there is no such thing at 
 
210 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 all as any divine power or authority — a man who is neither 
 moved by the vastness of your empire, nor by that sun above 
 us, nor by the motions of heaven and of the stars, nor by the 
 vicissitudes and regular order of things, nor (and that is the 
 greatest thing of all) by the wisdom of our ancestors ; who 
 both themselves cultivated with the most holy reverence the 
 sacred rites and religious ceremonies and auspices, and also 
 handed them down to us their posterity to be so cultivated 
 by us. 
 
 XXXI. There is, there is indeed, such a heavenly power. 
 It is not the truth, that in these bodies and in this feebleness 
 of ours there is something which is vigorous and endued with 
 feeling, and nothing which is so in this vast and beautiful 
 movement of nature. Unless perhaps some people think that 
 there is no such thing in existence because it is not apparent, 
 nor visible : just as if we were able to see our own mind, — 
 that by which we are wise, by which we have foresight, by 
 which we do and say these verv things which we are doing 
 and saying ; or as if we could plainly feel what sort of thing 
 it is, or where it is. That divine power, that very same di- 
 vine power which has often brought incredible prosperity and 
 power to this city, has extinguished and destroyed this mis- 
 chief; by first of all inspiring it with the idea of venturing to 
 irritate by violence and to attack with the sword the bravest 
 of men, and so leading it on to be defeated by the man whom 
 if it had only been able to defeat it would have enjoyed end- 
 less license and impunity. That result was brought about, 
 O judges, not by human wisdom, nor even by any moderate 
 degree of care on the part of the immortal gods. In truth, 
 those very holy places themselves which beheld that monster 
 fall, appear to have been moved themselves, and to have as- 
 serted their rights over him. 
 
 I implore you, I call you to witness, — you, I say, O ye 
 Alban hills and groves, and you, O ye altars of the Albans, 
 now overthrown, but nevertheless partners of and equals in 
 honor with the sacred rites of the Roman people, — ye, whom 
 that man with headlong insanity, having cut down and de- 
 stroyed the most holy groves, had overwhelmed with his insane 
 masses of buildings; it was your power then that prevailed, 
 it was the divinity of your altars, the religious reverence duo 
 to you, and which he had profaned by every sort of wicked- 
 ness, that prevailed ; and you, too, O sacred J upiter of Latium, 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 211 
 
 whose hikes and groves and boundaries he had constantly pol- 
 luted with every sort of abominable wickedness and debauch- 
 ery, you at last, from your high and holy mountain, opened 
 your eyes for the purpose of punishing him ; it is to you, to 
 all of you, that those punishments, late indeed, but still just 
 and well deserved, have been made an atonement for his wick- 
 edness. 
 
 Unless, perchance, Ave are to say that it was by accident 
 that it happened that it was before the very shrine of the 
 Good Goddess which is in the farm of Titus Sextus Gallius, 
 a most honorable and accomplished young man, — before the 
 Good Goddess herself, I say, that when he had begun the 
 battle, he received that first wound under which he gave up 
 that foul soul of his ; so that he did not seem to have been 
 acquitted in that iniquitous trial, but only to have been re- 
 served for this conspicuous punishment. 
 
 XXXII. Nor, indeed, did that same anger of the gods ab- 
 stain from inflicting the very same insanity on his satellites, 
 so that without the images of his ancestors, without any fun- 
 eral song or funeral games, without any obsequies, any lam- 
 entation, or any panegyric, — without, in short, any funeral at 
 all, smeared over with gore and mud, and cleprived even of 
 the honors which are paid to every one on that last day, and 
 which even enemies are wont to allow to a man, he was cast 
 out in the street half burnt, It was not right, I suppose, for 
 the effigies of most illustrious men to confer any honor on that 
 most foul parricide ; nor was there any place in which it was 
 more seemly that his corpse should be ill-treated than that 
 where his life had been condemned. 
 
 I swear to you, the fortune of the Roman people appeared 
 to me hard and cruel, while it for so many years beheld and 
 endured that man triumphing over the republic. He had pol- 
 luted the holiest religious observances with his debauchery; 
 he had broken the most authoritative decrees of the senate ; 
 he had openly bought himself from the judges with money; 
 he had harassed the senate in his tribuneship ; he had re- 
 scinded acts which had been passed for the sake of the safety 
 of the republic, by the consent of all orders of the state ; he 
 had driven me from my country ; he had plundered my prop- 
 erty ; he had burnt my house ; he had ill-treated my children 
 and my wife ; he had declared a wicked war against Cnseus 
 Pompeius; he had made slaughter of magistrates and pri- 
 
212 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 vate individuals ; he had burnt the house of my brother ; he 
 had laid waste Etruria ; he had driven numbers of men from 
 their homes and their professions. He kept pursuing and op- 
 pressing men ; the whole state, all Italy, all the provinces, all 
 foreign kingdoms could not contain his frenzy. Laws were 
 already being drawn up in his house which were to hand us 
 over to the power of our slaves. There was nothing belong- 
 ing to any one, which he had taken a fancy to, which he did 
 not think would become his in the course of this year. No 
 one was an obstacle to his expectations except Milo ; the very 
 man who was most able to be an obstacle to them he thought 
 when he returned again would be reconciled and, as it were, 
 bound to him. The power of Caesar, he said, was all his own. 
 The inclinations of all good men he had treated with con- 
 tempt, while accomplishing my ruin. Milo alone weighed on 
 his mind. 
 
 XXXIII. On this the immortal gods, as I have said be- 
 fore, put into the head of that abandoned and frantic man the 
 idea of laying an ambush for Milo. That pest was not to per- 
 ish any other way ; the republic would never have chastened 
 him by her laws. The senate, I suppose, would have been 
 able to restrain him when praetor. Why, it had not been 
 able to do any thing when it tried to restrain him while a 
 private individual. Would the consuls have been vigorous in 
 bridling a praetor ? In the first place, if Milo had been slain, 
 he would have had his own consuls. Secondly, what consul 
 would have behaved fearlessly against him as praetor, who re- 
 membered that he, when tribune, had offered the most cruel 
 injuries to the virtue of the consuls'? He would have op- 
 pressed every thing ; he would have taken possession and held 
 possession of every thing. By a new law, the draft of whirl 1 
 was found in his house, with the rest of the Clodian laws, he 
 would have made all our slaves his own frccdmen. Lastly, 
 if the immortal gods had not inspired him with such ideas 
 that he, an effeminate creature, attempted to slay a most gal- 
 lant man, you would have no republic at all this day. Would 
 that man when praetor, much more when consul, provided only 
 that these temples and these walls could have stood so long if 
 he had been alive, and could have remained till his consulship] 
 would he, I say, if alive, have done no harm, when even after 
 he was dead he burned the senate-house, one of his satellites, 
 Sextus Clodius, being the ringleader in the tumult'? What 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 213 
 
 more miserable, more grievous, more bitter sight have we ever 
 seen than that? that that temple of sanctity, of honor, of -wis- 
 dom, of the public council, the head of the city, the altar of 
 the allies, the harbor of all nations, the abode granted by the 
 universal Roman people to one of the orders of the state, 
 should be burnt, profaned, and destroyed"? 1 and that that 
 should be done, not by an ignorant mob, although that would 
 have been a miserable thing, but by one single person? who, 
 if he dared so much in his character of burner of a dead man, 
 what would he not have done as standard-bearer of a living 
 one 1 He selected the senate-house, of all the places in the 
 city, to throw him down in, in order that when dead he might 
 burn what he had overturned while alive. 
 
 And are there men, then, who complain of what took place 
 in the Appian road, and say nothing of what happened in the 
 senate-house % and who think that the forum could have been 
 defended from him when alive, whose very corpse the senate- 
 house was unable to resist? Arouse the man himself; resus- 
 citate him, if you can, from the shades below. Will you be 
 able to check his violence when alive, when you were hardly 
 able to support his fury while he lies unburied ? unless, in- 
 deed, you did support the sight of those men who ran with 
 firebrands to the senate-house, with scythes to the temple of 
 Castor, and who ranged over the whole forum sword in hand. 
 You saw the Roman people slaughtered, you saw the assem- 
 bly disturbed by the drawn swords, while Marcus Coelius, a 
 ♦ribune of the people, was listened to in silence, a man of the 
 greatest courage in the affairs of state, of the greatest firmness 
 in any cause which he undertook, wholly devoted to the serv- 
 ice of the virtuous part of the citizens, and to the authority of 
 the senate, and in this — shall I say unpopularity, or misfor- 
 tune of Milo's? behaving with singular, and god-like, and in- 
 credible good faith. 
 
 1 When Clodius was killed, his slaves fled, aud left his dead body in 
 the road ; and it was brought to Rome the next day by Sextus Tedius, a 
 senator, who was passing by and saw it ; and then it was exposed to the 
 view of the populace of the city. T^e next day the mob, headed by Sex- 
 tus Clodius, carried the body naked, 60 as to show his wounds, into the 
 forum, and placed it on the rostra ; and then the tribunes harangued the 
 people on the subject, and wrought them up to such a pitch of excitement, 
 that, snatching up the body, they carried it into the senate-house, and 
 tearing up the benches and tables, dressed up a funeral pile on the spot, 
 and, together with the body, burned the senate-house itself, with the Ba' 
 6ilica Porcia which joined it. 
 
214 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 XXXIV. But I have said enough about the cause ; and, 
 perhaps, too much that was foreign to the cause. What re- 
 mains, except for me to pray and entreat you, O judges, to 
 show that mercy to a most gallant man, which he himself 
 does not implore ; but which I, even against his will, implore 
 and demand in his behalf? Do not, if amid the tears of all 
 of us you have seen no tears shed by Milo, — if you see his 
 countenance always the same, his voice and language steady 
 and unaltered, — do not, on that account, be the less inclined 
 to spare him. I know not whether he does not deserve to 
 be assisted all the more on that account. In truth, if in the 
 battles of gladiators, and in the case of men of the very low- 
 est class and condition and fortune, we are accustomed to dis- 
 like those who are timid and suppliant, and who pray to be 
 allowed to live, and if we wish to save those who are brave 
 and courageous, and who offer themselves cheerfully to death ; 
 and if we feel more pity for those men who do not ask our 
 pity, than for those who entreat it ; how much more ought 
 we to nourish those feelings in the case of our bravest citi- 
 zens ? As for me, O judges, I am dispirited and almost kill- 
 ed by those expressions of Milo, which I hear continually, and 
 at the utterance of which I am daily present : " May my fel- 
 low-citizens fare well," says he; "may they fare well. May 
 they be safe, and prosperous, and happy ; may this illustrious 
 city, and my country, which I love so well, long endure, how- 
 ever it may treat me ; may my fellow-citizens (since I may 
 not enjoy it with them) enjoy the republic in tranquillity 
 without me, but still in consequence of my conduct, I will 
 submit, and depart ; if it can not be allowed me to enjoy a 
 virtuous republic, at least I shall be at a distance from a bad 
 one ; and the first well regulated and free city that I arrive 
 at, in that will I rest. Oh how vain," says he, " are the la- 
 bors which I have undertaken ! Oh how fallacious have been 
 my hopes ! Oh how empty all my thoughts ! When as trib- 
 une of the people, when the republic was oppressed, I had de- 
 voted myself to the senate, which, when 1 came into office, 
 was utterly extinct ; and to the Roman knights, whose pow- 
 er was enfeebled, and to the virtuous part of the citizens, who 
 had given up all their authority under the arms of Clodius ; 
 could I ever have thought that I should fail to find protection 
 from the citizens"? When I had restored you" (for he very 
 frequently converses with me and addresses me) "to your 
 
FOR T. A. MILO. 215 
 
 country, could I ever suppose that I myself should have no 
 place in my country ! Where now is the senate which we 
 followed? where are those Roman knights, those knights," 
 savs he, " so devoted' to you? where is the zeal of the munici- 
 pal towns? where is the voice of Italy? what, above all, has 
 become of that voice of yours, O Marcus Tullius, which has 
 been an assistance to many ; what has become of your voice 
 and defensive eloquence ? am I the only person whom it is un- 
 able to help, I who have so often exposed myself to death for 
 your sake?" 
 
 XXXY. Nor does he say these things to me, O judges, 
 weeping, as I now repeat them ; but with the same unmoved 
 countenance that you behold. For he says, he never did all 
 the things which he had done for citizens who are ungrateful ; 
 ungrateful, he says, they are not. That they are timid, and 
 thinking too much of every danger, he does not deny. He 
 savs, that he treated the common people, and that multitude 
 of the lower class which, while they had Publius Clodius for 
 their leader, threatened the safety of all of you, in such a way, 
 in order to render all your lives more secure ; that he not only 
 subdued it by his virtue, but won it over at the expense of 
 three estates which he inherited. Nor has he any apprehen- 
 sion that, while he was conciliating the common people by his 
 liberality, he was not also securing your attachment by his 
 singular services to the republic. He says, that the good-will 
 of the senate toward him has been repeatedly experienced by 
 him in the times that have lately gone by ; and that he shall 
 carry with him, and ever retain in his recollection, the way in 
 which vou and all vour order flocked to meet him, the*zeal 
 you showed in his behalf, and the kindness of your language 
 to him, whatever may be the destiny Avhich fortune allots to 
 him. He remembers, also, that the voice of the crier, pro- 
 claiming .his triumph, was the only thing wanting to him; 
 but that he was declared consul by the unanimous vote of the 
 people, arid that was the great object of his ambition. And 
 now if all these things are to go against him, it will be only 
 the suspicion of guilt, not the reality of any crime ^jhich has 
 injured him. He adds this, which is unquestionably true ; 
 that brave and wise men are not in the habit of setting their 
 hearts so much on the rewards for virtuous conduct, as on the 
 fact of their conduct being so ; that he has never acted through- 
 out his life in any but the most honorable manner, since there 
 
216 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 can be nothing better for a man to do than to deliver his coun- 
 try from dangers ; that those men are happy for whom such 
 conduct procures honor among their fellow-citizens, but yet, 
 that those men are not miserable who have exceeded their fel- 
 low-citizens in good deeds. Moreover, that of all the rewards 
 of virtue, if one is to make an estimate of the different re- 
 wards, the most honorable of all is glory ; that this is the only 
 reward which can make amends for the shortness of life, by 
 the recollection of posterity ; which can cause us while absent 
 to be present, when dead to be still alive ; that this is the thing 
 by the steps of which men appear to mount even to heaven. 
 
 " Concerning me," says he, " the Roman people and all 
 nations will be continually talking. The remotest ages will 
 never be silent about me. Even at this very time when the 
 firebrands of envy are being hurled against me by my enemies, 
 still I am celebrated in every company of men, who express 
 their thanks to me, who congratulate themselves on my con- 
 duct, who make me the sole topic of their conversation. I say 
 nothing of the days of festival, and sacrifice, and joyful cele- 
 bration in Etruria. This is the hundredth, or I rather think 
 the hundred and first day since the death of Publius Clodius ; 
 a day on which, wherever- the boundaries of the Roman em- 
 pire extend, there did not only the report of, but the joy 
 caused by that occurrence penetrate. Wherefore," said he, " I 
 am not anxious as to where this body of mine may be ; since 
 the glory of my name already is and always will be in every 
 country upon earth." 
 
 XXXVI. This is what you have constantly said to me, O 
 Milo, when these men who hear me now have been absent ; 
 but this is what I say to you when they are present to listen. 
 I can not, indeed, praise you sufficiently for being of such a 
 spirit as you are; but the more godlike that virtue of yours 
 is, the greater is the pain which I feel at being separated from 
 you. Nor, indeed, if you are taken from me, will the com- 
 plaints, which are all that is left to me, do any thing to com- 
 fort me, or to prevent my being angry with those men from 
 whom I have received so severe a blow. For it is not my 
 enemies who will tear you from me, but those who are my 
 greatest friends. It is not men who have at times deserved 
 ill at my hands, but those who have always deserved exceed- 
 ingly well. You never, O judges, will inflict such grief upon 
 me (although, what grief can be so great as this?), but you 
 
xOR T. A. MILO. *217 
 
 will never inflict this particular grief upon me, of forcing me 
 to forget how greatly you have always regarded me. And if 
 you, yourselves, have forgotten it, or if any part of my con- 
 duct has offended you, why do you not make me atone for that 
 offense rather than Milo 1 For I shall have lived gloriously 
 enough if I die before seeing any such great misfortune happen 
 
 to him. 
 
 At present one consolation supports me, that no exertion 
 that affection, or that zeal, or that gratitude could possibly 
 make has been wanting on my part to promote your interest, 
 O Titus Annius. For your sake I have courted the enmity 
 of powerful citizens ; I have repeatedly exposed my person 
 and my life to the weapons of your enemies ; I have thrown 
 myself as a suppliant at the feet of many for your sake ; I 
 have considered my fortunes and those of my children as 
 united with yours in the time of your necessities. Lastly, on 
 this very day, if any violence is prepared against you, or any 
 struo-ale, or any danger of death, I claim my share in that. 
 
 CO * JO it "IT 
 
 What remains now? What is there that I can say, or that 1 
 can do in return for your services to me, except considering 
 whatever fortune is yours mine also 1 I do not object, I do not 
 refuse so to consider it. And I entreat you, O judges, either 
 to add to the kindnesses which you have already conferred on 
 me. by granting me this man's safety, or else to take notice 
 that they will all perish in his fall. 
 
 XXXVII. These tears of mine have no effect on Milo. 
 He is of an incredible strength of mind. He thinks that any 
 place where there is no room for virtue is a place of banish- 
 ment ; and death he considers the end appointed by nature, 
 and not a punishment. Let him continue to cherish these 
 ideas in which he was born. What will you think yourselves, 
 O judges? What will be your feelings? Will you preserve 
 the recollection of Milo, and drive away the man himself? 
 And will you allow any place in the whole earth to be more 
 worthy to receive this virtue of his than this place 'which 
 produced him? You, you, I appeal to you, O you brave 
 men, who have shed much of your blood for the sake of the 
 republic. I appeal to you, O centurions, and to you, O sol- 
 diers, in this time of danger to a brave man and an invincible 
 citizen. While you are not only looking on, but armed, and 
 standing as guards around this court of justice, shall this mighty 
 virtue be driven from the city, be banished, be cast out? 
 
 K 
 
218 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Oh, miserable man that I am ! Oh, unhappy man that I 
 am ! Were you, O Milo, able through the instrumentality of 
 these men to recall me to my country, and can not I through 
 the agency of the very same men even retain you in yours ? 
 What answer shall I make to my children, who consider you 
 a second father? What answer shall I make to you, O my 
 brother Quintus, you who are now absent, you who were my 
 companion in that cruel time? Shall I reply, that I was 
 unable to preserve the safety of Milo by the instrumentality 
 of those very men by whose means he had preserved mine ? 
 And what is the cause in which I shall have failed to do so ? 
 One which is sanctioned by all the nations of the earth. 
 From whom must I say that I failed to procure it ? From 
 those very men who of all others have gained the greatest 
 tranquillity by the death of Publius Clodius. And who will 
 it be who has entreated in vain? I. What great wickedness 
 is it that I planned, what enormous crime did I commit, O 
 judges, when I traced out, and laid open, and revealed, and 
 forever crushed those beginnings and signs of the general 
 destruction that was intended? For that is the spring from 
 which all the distresses of myself and my friends arise. Why 
 did you wish me to return to my country? Was it in order 
 that I might look on while those men were being driven out, 
 by whose efforts I had been restored ? Do not, I entreat you, 
 suffer my return to be more miserable than even my departure 
 was. For how can I think that I have been restored if I am 
 torn from those men by whom I was restored ? 
 
 XXXVIII. Would that the immortal gods had granted (I 
 must entreat your permission to say it, O my country, for I 
 fear lest it should be a wicked wish as far as you are con- 
 cerned, though it may be a pious one for Milo), — would that 
 they had granted that Publius Clodius should not only be 
 alive, but should even be praetor, consul, dictator, rather than 
 I should see this sight ! O ye immortal gods, before I should 
 see this brave man, this man w r ho deserves to be saved by you, 
 O judges, in this plight! "Say not so, say not so," says 
 Milo. "Rather let him have suffered the penalty which he 
 deserved, and let us, if so it must be, suffer what we have not 
 deserved." 
 
 Shall this man, born for his country, die in any other land 
 except his country ? or, as it may perchance turn out, for his 
 country? Will you preserve the monuments of this man's 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 219 
 
 courage, and yet allow no sepulchre containing his body to 
 exist in Italy"? Will any one by his vote banish this man 
 from this city, when all other cities will gladly invite him to 
 them if he is driven out from among you ? O happy will that 
 land be which shall receive him ! Ungrateful will this land 
 be if it banishes him ; miserable if it loses him. 
 
 However, I must make an end. Nor, indeed, can I speak 
 any longer for weeping ; and this man forbids me to defend 
 him by tears. I pray and entreat you, O judges, when you 
 are giving your votes, to dare to decide as you think just. 
 And believe me that man 1 will be sure greatly to approve of 
 your virtue, and justice, and good faith ; who, in selecting 
 the judges, selected all the best, and wisest, and most fearless 
 men whom he could find. 2 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF CAIUS RA. 
 
 BIRIUS POSTUMUS 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 When Gabinius, the colleague of Piso, returned from his province of Syr- 
 ia, he was prosecuted on two indictments ; in the first prosecution 
 Cicero appeared as a witness against him ; but he was acquitted, as 
 Cicero says in his letters to his brother Quintus (iii. 4), in consequence 
 of the stupidity of Lentulus, the prosecutor, and the great exertion of 
 Pompey, and the corruption of the judges. In the second prosecution 
 Cicero w T as prevailed on by Pompey to defend him ; but he was con- 
 demned to perpetual banishment. 
 
 The trial of Caius Rabirius Postumus, a Roman knight, arose out of that 
 trial of Gabinius. It had been one of the articles against him, that he 
 had received an enormous sum for restoring Ptolemy to his kingdom 
 of Egypt ; but when he was convicted, his estate was found inadequate 
 
 1 Cnaeus Pompeius. 
 
 3 Milo, as has been said before, was convicted by a majority of thirty- 
 eight to thirteen, though Cato voted openly for his acquittal. He went 
 into exile to Marseilles. Some years afterward, a.u.c 706, Coelius, when 
 prsetor, recalled him from banishment, and endeavored to raise some pub- 
 lic commotion in favor of Pompey, between whom and Caesar (who was 
 in his second consulship) the civil war was just breaking out. But he 
 and Coelius were both killed by the soldiers with whom they were tam- 
 pering. 
 
220 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 to meet the damages which he was condemned to pay, and the defi- 
 ciency was now demanded from those through whose hands the man- 
 agement of his money affairs had passed, and who were supposed to 
 have been sharers in the spoil ; and of these men the chief was Ra- 
 birius, who was now accused of having advised Gabinius to undertake 
 Ptolemy's restoration ; of having accompanied him ; of having been 
 employed by him to solicit the payment of the money, and of having 
 lived at Alexandria for that purpose in the king's service as the public 
 receiver of the king's taxes, and wearing the dress of an Egyptian. 
 The prosecution was instituted under the provisions of the Lex Julia, 
 concerning extortion and peculation. It was conducted by Caius Mem- 
 mius Gemellus. Rabirius was acquitted ; and, though it was to please 
 Pompey that Cicero had undertaken his defense, he afterward attached 
 himself to Caesar, and was employed by him in the war in Africa and 
 in Sicily. 
 
 I. If there is any one, O judges, who thinks Caius Rabirius 
 to be blamed for having intrusted his securely founded and 
 well-established fortunes to the power and caprice of a sover- 
 eign, he may back his opinion by a reference not only to mine, 
 but also to the feelings of the man himself who did so. For 
 there is no one who is more grieved at the line of conduct 
 which he then adopted than he is himself. Although we are 
 very much in the habit of judging of the wisdom of a plan 
 by the result, and of saying that the man whose designs have 
 succeeded has shown a great deal of foresight, and that he who 
 has failed has shown none at all. If the king had had any 
 honesty, nothing would have been considered more sagacious 
 than the conduct of Postumus ; but because the king deceived 
 him he is said to have acted as madly as possible ; so that it 
 appears now that nothing is a proof of a man being wise, un- 
 less he can foresee the future. 
 
 But still, if there be any one who thinks that Postumus's 
 conduct, whether it proceeded from a vain hope, or from a 
 not sufficiently considered calculation, or (to use the strongest 
 possible terms) from pure rashness, deserves to be blamed, I 
 will not object to his entertaining that opinion. But I do 
 beg this, that as he sees that his designs have been punished 
 with the greatest cruelty by fortune herself, he will not think 
 it necessary to add any additional bitterness to the ruin with 
 which he is already overwhelmed. It is quite enough not to 
 help to set men up again who have fallen through imprudence ; 
 but to press down those already fallen, or to increase their im- 
 petus when falling, is unquestionably most barbarous. Espe- 
 cially, O judges, when this principle is almost implanted by 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 221 
 
 nature in the race of man, that those men who are of a family 
 which considerable glory has already distinguished, should with 
 the greatest eagerness pursue the same path as their ancestors, 
 seeing that the virtue of their lathers is celebrated in the 
 recollection and conversation of all men ; just as not only did 
 Scipio imitate Paullus in his renown gained by military ex- 
 ploits ; not only did his son imitate Maximus; but his own 
 son also imitated Decius in the devotion of his life, and the 
 exact manner of his death. Let small things, O judges, be 
 compared in this way to great things. 
 
 II. For, when we were children, this man's father, Cains 
 Curius, was a most gallant chief of the equestrian order, and 
 a most extensive farmer of the public revenues, a man whose 
 greatness of spirit as displayed in carrying on his business men 
 would not have so greatly esteemed, if an incredible kindness 
 had not also distinguished him ; so that while increasing his 
 property, he seemed not so much to be seeking to gratify his 
 avarice, as to procure additional means for exerting his kind- 
 ness. My client, being this man's son, although he had never 
 seen his father, still under the guidance of nature herself, — - 
 who is a very powerful guide, — and instigated by the continual 
 conversation of every one in his family, was naturally led on 
 to adopt a similar line of conduct to that of his father. He 
 encased in extensive business. He entered into manv con- 
 tracts. He took a great share of the public revenues. He 
 trusted different nations. His transactions spread over many 
 provinces. He devoted himself also to the service of kings. 
 He had already previously lent a large sum of money to this 
 very king of Alexandria ; and in the mean time he never 
 ceased enriching his friends; sending them on commissions j 
 giving them a share in his contracts ; increasing their estates T 
 or supporting them with his credit. Why need I say more *? 
 He gave a faithful representation of his father's career and 
 habits of life in his own magnanimity and liberality. 
 
 In the mean time, Ptolemoeus being expelled from his king' 
 dom with treachery, with evil designs (as the Sibyl said, an 
 expression of which Postumus found out the meaning) came 
 to Rome. This unhappy man lent him money, as he was in 
 want and asked for it ; and that was not the first time (for he 
 had lent him money before while he was king, without seeing 
 him). And he thought that he was not lending his money 
 rashly, because no one doubted that he would be restored to 
 
222 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 his kingdom by the senate and people of Rome. But he went 
 still farther in making him presents and loans. And he lent 
 him not his own money only, but also that of his friends. A 
 very foolish thing to do — who denies it? at all events, who is 
 there who does not now remind him of it ? How could one 
 think that a sensible proceeding which has turned out ill ? 
 But it is difficult not to cany out to the end a line of conduct 
 which one has begun with sanguine hopes. 
 
 III. The king was a suppliant to him. He asked him every 
 sort of favor ; he promised him every sort of recompense. JSo 
 that Postumus was at last compelled to fear that he might lose 
 what he had already lent, if he put a stop to his loans. But 
 no one could possibly be more affable, no one could be more 
 kind than the king ; so that it was easier to repent having be- 
 gun to lend than to find out how to stop. 
 
 Here first rises a charge against my client. They say that 
 the senate was bribed. O ye immortal gods ! is this that much- 
 desired impartiality of the courts of justice? Those who have 
 bribed us are put on their trial, we who have been bribed are 
 exposed to no such dangers. What, then, shall I do ? Shall 
 I here defend the senate, O judges? I ought, indeed, to do so 
 here and every where, so well has that body deserved at my 
 hands. But that is not the question at the present moment ; 
 nor is that affair in the least connected with the cause of Pos- 
 tumus. Although money was supplied by Postumus for the 
 expense of his journey, and for the splendor of his appoint- 
 ments, and for the royal retinue, and though contracts were 
 drawn up in the Alban villa of Cnasus Pompeius when he 
 left Pome ; still he who supplied the money had no right to 
 ask on what he who received the money was spending it. For 
 he was lending it not to a robber, but to a king ; nor to a 
 king who was an enemy of the Roman people, but to him 
 whose return to his kingdom he saw was granted to him by 
 the senate, and intrusted to the consul to provide for ; nor 
 to a king who was a stranger to this empire, but to one with 
 whom he had seen a treaty made in the Capitol. 
 
 But if the man who lends money is to blame, and not the 
 man who has made a scandalous use of the money which has 
 been lent to him, then let that man be condemned who has 
 made a sword and sold it, and not the man who with that 
 sword has slain a citizen. Wherefore, neither you, O Caius 
 Mem mi us, ought to wish the senate, to support the authority 
 
FOK C R. POSTUMUS. 223 
 
 of which you have devoted yourself from your youth upward, 
 to labor under such disrepute, nor ought I to speak in defense 
 of conduct which is not the subject of the present inquiry. 
 For the cause of Postumus, whatever it is, is at all events un- 
 connected with the cause of the senate. And if I show that 
 it has no connection with Gabinius either, then certainly you 
 will have not a leg to stand upon. 
 
 IV. For this cause is an inquiry, " What has become of the 
 money V a sort of appendix as it were to an action which has 
 been already decided, and in which a man has been convicted. 
 An action was brought successfully against Aulus Gabinius, 
 and he was condemned in damages ; but no securities were 
 given for the payment of them, nor did the people get out of 
 his property a sum sufficient for the payment of those dam- 
 ages. The law is impartial. The Julian law orders that 
 what is deficient should be required of those into whose hands 
 the money, which the man who has been convicted received, 
 came. If this is a new provision in the Julian law, — as there 
 are many clauses of a severer and stricter tendency than those 
 which are found in the ancient laws, — let us also have this 
 new description of tribunal before which to prosecute the in- 
 quiry. But if this clause is transferred word for word not 
 only from the Cornelian law but from the Servilian law, 
 which is elder still ; then, in the name of the immortal gods, 
 what is it that we are doing, O judges? Or what is this new 
 principle of new legal proceedings that we are introducing 
 into the republic ? For the ancient mode of proceeding was 
 well known to all of you, and if practice is the best of teach- 
 ers it ought to be known to me above all men. For I have 
 prosecuted men for extortion and peculation ; I have sat as 
 judge; I have conducted inquiries as praetor; I have defend- 
 ed many men ; there is no step in such proceedings which can 
 give a man any facility in speaking in which I have not taken 
 a part. 
 
 This is what I assert: — that no one ever was put on his 
 trial on the formula, "What had become of that money," 
 who had not been summoned as a witness on the action for 
 damages. But in the action in this instance, no one was sum- 
 moned except in consequence of something said by witnesses, 
 or something which appeared in the accounts of private in- 
 dividuals, or in the accounts of the cities. Therefore, when 
 actions were being brought, those men were usually present 
 
224 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 who had some apprehension about themselves ; and then when 
 they were summoned, then, if they thought it advantageous 
 for them, they proceeded at once to contradict what had been 
 said. But if they were afraid of unpopularity, because the 
 facts in question were recent, they answered at some future 
 time ; and when they had done this, many of them gained 
 their object. 
 
 , V. But this is quite a novel way of managing business, and 
 (pne utterly unheard of before this time. In the previous ac- 
 tion Postumus's name never once occurs. In the action, do I 
 say? You yourselves, O judges, lately sat as judges on Aulus 
 Gabinius. Did any one witness then mention Posturuus ? Any 
 witness? did ever the prosecutor name him? Did you, in 
 short, in the whole of that trial once hear the name of Pos- 
 tumus? 
 
 Postumus, then, is not an additional criminal implicated 
 in the cause which has been already decided. But still one 
 Roman knigbt has been dragged before the court as a defend- 
 ant, on a charge of extortion and peculation. On what ac- 
 count-books is this charge founded? On some which were 
 not read on the trial of Aulus Gabinius. By what witness is 
 it supported? By some one who never once mentioned his 
 name at that time. On the sentence of what arbitrator do 
 they rely? On one in which no mention whatever was made 
 of Postumus. In accordance with the provisions of what law ? 
 Of one under which he is not liable. 
 
 Here now, O judges, the affair is one which has need of all 
 your acuteness and of all your good sense. For you ought to 
 consider what it is becoming to you to do, and not what is 
 lawful for you. For if you ask what is lawful, you certainly 
 have the power to remove any one whom you please out of the 
 city. It is the voting tablet which gives you that power; 
 and at the same time it conceals the capricious exercise of it. 
 ]So one has any need to fear the consciousness of the tablet, 
 if he has no reverence for bis own conscience. Where, then, 
 is the wisdom of the judge shown? In this, that he considers 
 not only what he has the power to do, but also what he ought 
 to do ; and he does not recollect only what power has been 
 committed to him, but also to what extent it lias been com- 
 mitted. You have a tablet given you on which to record your 
 judgment. According to what law I To the Julian law 
 about extortion and peculation. Concerning what defendant ? 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 225 
 
 Concerning a Roman knight. But that body is not liable to 
 the operation of that law. ******** 
 But now I hear what you say. Postumus, then, is prosecuted 
 under that law, from the operation of which not only he, but 
 his whole order, is released and wholly free. 
 
 VI. Here I will not at present implore your aid, O Eoman ) 
 knights, — you whose privileges are attacked by this prosecu- 
 tion, — before I implore you, O senators, whose good faith to- 
 ward this order of knights is at stake ; that good faith which 
 has been often experienced before, and which has been lately 
 proved in this very cause. For when — when that most vir- 
 tuous and admirable consul Cnaeus Pompeius made a motion 
 with respect to this very inquiry — some, but very few, unfa- 
 vorable opinions were delivered, which voted that prefects, 
 and scribes, and all the retinue of magistrates were liable to 
 the provisions of this law, you — you yourselves, I say — and 
 the senate, in a very full house, resisted this ; and although at 
 that time, on account of the offenses commited by many men, 
 people's minds were inflamed so that even innocent people 
 were in danger, still, though you could not wholly extinguish 
 its unpopularity, at all events you would not allow fuel to be 
 added to the existing fire. 
 
 In this spirit did the senate act. What next? What are '* 
 you, O Eoman knights, what are you about to do, I pray? 
 Grlaucia, a profligate but still a shrewd man, was in the habit 
 of warning the people when any law was being read to attend 
 to the first line of it. If the first word was " dictator, consul, 
 prastor, master of the horse," then not to trouble themselves 
 about it ; they might know that it was no concern of theirs. 
 But if it began " Whoever after the passing of this law," then 
 they had better take care that they were not made liable to 
 any new judicial proceedings. 
 
 Now do you, O Eoman knights, take care. You know that 
 I w r as born of your order ; that all my feelings have always 
 been enlisted in your cause. I say nothing of what I am now 
 saying but with the deepest anxiety and the greatest regard 
 for vour order. Other men may be attached to other men and 
 to other orders ; I have always been devoted to you. I warn 
 you, I forewarn you ; I give you notice while the affair and the 
 cause are still undecided ; I call all men and gods to witness. 
 While you have it in your power, while it is lawful for you, 
 beware lest you establish for yourselves and for your order a 
 
 K2 
 
22G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 harder condition than you may be able to bear. This evil 
 (believe me) will crawl on and extend further than you fancy. 
 
 VII. When a most powerful and noble tribune of the peo- 
 ple, Marcus Drusus, proposed one folrmua of inquiry affecting 
 the equestrian order, — k ' If any one had taken money on ac- 
 count of a judicial decision," — the Roman knights openly re- 
 gisted it. Why ? Did they wish to be allowed to act in such 
 a manner! Far from it. They thought this cause of receiv- 
 ing money not only shameful, but actually impious. But they 
 argued in this way : that those men only ought to be made 
 liable to the operation of any law, who of their own judgment 
 submitted to such conditions of life. " The highest rank," say 
 they, "in the state is a great pleasure; and the curule chair, 
 and the fasces, and supreme command, and a province, and 
 priesthoods, and triumphs, and even the fact of having an im- 
 age to keep alive the recollection of one with posterity. There 
 is also some anxiety mingled with this pleasure, and a greater 
 apprehension of laws and of trials. We have never despised 
 those considerations" (for so they argued) ; " but we have 
 adopted this tranquil and easy kind of life, which, because it 
 does not bring honors with it, is also free from annoyance." 
 "You are just as much a judge as I am a senator." "Just 
 so, but you sought for the one honor, and I am compelled to 
 accept of the other ; wherefore, it ought to be lawful for me 
 either to decline being a judge, or else I ought not to be sub- 
 ject to any new law which ought properly to regulate only the 
 conduct of senators." Will you, O Roman knights, abandon 
 this privilege which you have received from your fathers? I 
 warn you not to do so. Men will be hurried before these 
 courts of justice, not only whenever they fall into all deserved 
 unpopularity, but whenever spiteful people say a word against 
 them, if you do not take care to prevent it. If it were now 
 told you that opinions were pronounced in the senate that you 
 should be liable to be proceeded against under these laws, you 
 would think it necessary to run in crowds to the senate-house. 
 If the law was passed, you would throng to the rostra. The 
 senate has decided that you are exempt from the operation of 
 this law ; the people has never subjected you to it ; you have 
 met together here free from it ; take care that you do not de- 
 part entangled in its toils. 
 
 For if it was imputed as a crime to Postumus, who was 
 neither a tribune, nor a prefect, nor one of his companions 
 
FOR C. 11. POSTUMUS. 227 
 
 from Italy, nor even a friend of Gabinius's, how will these men 
 hereafter defend themselves, who, being of your order, have 
 been implicated with our magistrates in these causes ? 
 
 VIII. "You," says the prosecutor, "instigated to Gabinius 
 to restore the king." My own good faith does not allow me 
 to speak with severity of Gabinius. For after having been 
 reconciled to him, and given up that most bitter hostility 
 with which I regarded him, and after having defended him 
 with the greatest zeal, I ought not to attack him now that he 
 is in distress. And even if the influence of Cnaeus Pompeius 
 had not reconciled me to him while he was in prosperity, his 
 own disasters would do so now. But still, when you say that 
 Gabinius went to Alexandria at the instigation of Postumus, 
 if you place no confidence in what was alleged in the defense 
 of Gabinius, do you forget also what you stated in your own 
 speech for the prosecution'? Gabinius said that he did that 
 for the sake of the republic, because he was afraid of the 
 fleet of Archelaus, — because he thought that otherwise the 
 sea would be entirely full of pirates. He said, moreover, 
 that he was authorized to do so by a law. You, his enemy, 
 deny that. I pardon your denial, and so much the more 
 because the decision was contrary to the statement of Ga- 
 binius. 
 
 I return, therefore, to the charge, and to your speech for the 
 prosecution. Why did you keep crying out that ten thousand 
 talents had been promised to Gabinius? I suppose it was 
 necessary to find out a very civil man indeed, who should be 
 able to prevail on one whom you call the most avaricious of 
 men, not to despise immoderately two hundred and forty mill- 
 ions of sesterces. Whatever may have been the intention with 
 which Gabinius acted, it certainly was his own unsuggested 
 intention. Whatever sort of idea it was, it was Gabinius's 
 own. Whether, as he said himself, his object was glory, or 
 whether, as you insist, it was money, it was for himself that 
 he sought it. Had Gabinius any companion or attendant? 
 He says, no. For he had departed from Eome in deference 
 to the authority, not of Gabinius, whose business it was not, 
 but of Publius Lentulus, a most illustrious man, given to him 
 by the senate, and with a definite design, and with very san- 
 guine hopes. 
 
 But he was the king's steward. Ay, and he was in the 
 king's prison, and his life was nearly taken away. He bore 
 
-228 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 many things besides, which the caprice of the king and neces- 
 sity compelled him to endure. 80 that all these matters come 
 under one single reproach, that he entered his kingdom, and 
 that he intrusted himself to the power of the king. A very 
 foolish action, if we must say the truth. For what can be 
 more foolish than for a Roman knight, a man of this city, I 
 say, a citizen of this republic, which, of all others, is, and al- 
 ways has been, most especially free, to go into a place where 
 he is forced to obey and be the steward of another? 
 
 IX. But, nevertheless, may I not pardon this in Postumus, 
 who is not a man of much learning, when I see that the very 
 wisest men have fallen into the same error? We have heard 
 that that great man, beyond all comparison the most learned 
 man that all Greece ever produced, Plato, was in the greatest 
 danger, and was exposed to the most treacherous designs by 
 the wickedness of Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, to whom 
 he had trusted himself. We know that Callisthenes, a very 
 learned man, the companion of Alexander the Great, was slain 
 by Alexander. We know that Demetrius, — he, too, being a 
 citizen of the free republic of Athens, the affairs of which he 
 had conducted with the greatest ability, and being also a man 
 eminent for, and deeply impressed with, learning, — the one, 
 I mean, who was surnamed Phalereus, was deprived of his life 
 in that self-same kingdom of Egypt, having had an asp applied 
 to his body. I plainly confess that nothing more insane can 
 be done, than for a man willingly to come into a place where 
 he will lose his liberty. But the still greater folly which he 
 had already committed is his excuse for the folly of this sub- 
 sequent conduct ; for that causes this most stupid action, the 
 act, I mean, of going into the kingdom, and of trusting him- 
 self to the king, to appear a wise and sensible step. At all 
 events, it is not so much the act of one who is forever a fool, 
 as one who is wise too late, after he has got into difficulties 
 through his folly, to endeavor to release himself by whatever 
 means he can. Let, then, that be regarded as a iixed and 
 certain point, which can neither be moved nor changed, in 
 which those who look fairly at the matter say that Postumus 
 had entertained hopes, those who arc unfavorable to him Bay 
 that he made a blunder, and he himself confesses that he 
 acted like a madman, in lending his own money, and that 
 of his friends, to the king, to the great danger of his own for- 
 tunes ; still, when this had once been begun, it was necessary 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 229 
 
 to endure these other evils, in order, at last, to reunite him- 
 self to his friends. Therefore, you may reproach him as 
 often as you please with having worn an Egyptian robe, 
 and with having had about him other ornaments which are 
 not worn by a Roman citizen. For every time that you 
 mention any one of these particulars, you are only repeating 
 that same thing — that he lent money rashly to the king, and 
 that he trusted his fortunes and his character to the royal 
 caprice. He did so rashly, I confess it ; but the case could 
 not possibly be changed then ; either he was forced to put 
 on an Egyptian cloak at Alexandria, in order afterward to be 
 able to wear his gown at Rome ; or, if he retained his gown 
 in Egypt, he must have discarded all hope of recovering his 
 fortunes. 
 
 X. For the sake of luxury and pleasure we have often seen, 
 not only ordinary Roman citizens, but youths of high birth, 
 and even some senators, men born in the highest rank, wear- 
 ing little caps, not in their country-seats or their suburban 
 villas, but at Naples, in a much-frequented town. We have 
 even seen Lucius Sylla, that great commander, in a cloak. 
 And you can now see the statue of Lucius Seipio, who con- 
 ducted the war in Asia, and defeated Antiochus, standing in 
 the Capitol, not only with a cloak, but also with Grecian slip- 
 pers. And yet these men not only were not liable to be tried 
 for wearino - them, but they were not even talked about ; and, 
 at all events, the excuse of necessity will be a more valid de- 
 fense for Publius Rutilius Rufus ; for when he had been caught 
 at Mitylene by Mithridates, he avoided the cruelty with which 
 the king treated all who wore the Roman gown, by changing 
 his apparel. Therefore, that Rutilius, who was a pattern to 
 our citizens of virtue, and of the ancient dignity, and of pru- 
 dence, and a man of consular rank, put on slippers and a cloak. 
 Nor did any one think of reproaching the man with having 
 done so, but all imputed it to the necessity of the time. And 
 shall that garment bring an accusation upon Postumus, which 
 afforded him a hope that he might at some time or other re- 
 cover his fortune ? 
 
 For when he came to Alexandria to Auletes, 1 O judges, this 
 
 one means of saving his money was proposed to Postumus by 
 
 the king — namely, that he should undertake the management, 
 
 and, as it were, the stewardship of the royal revenues- Aad 
 
 1 Ptoiemaeus was surnamed Auletes. 
 
230 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 he could not do that unless he became the steward. For he 
 uses that title which had been given to the office by the king. 
 The business seemed an odious one to Postumus, but he had 
 actually no power of declining it. The name itself, too, was 
 annoying; but the business had that name of old among those 
 people, it was not now newly imposed by the king. He de- 
 tested also that dress, but without it he could neither have the 
 title nor fill his office. Therefore, I say, that he was com- 
 pelled by force to act as he did, — by force which, as our great 
 poet says — 
 
 " Breaks and subdues the loftiest dignity." 
 
 He should have died, you will say ; for that is the alternative. 
 And so he would have done, if, while his affairs were in such 
 a state of embarrassment, he could have died without the 
 greatest disgrace. 
 
 XI. Do not, then, impute his hard fortune to him as a 
 fault ; do not think the injury done to him by the king his 
 crime ; do not judge of his intentions by the compulsions un- 
 der which he was, nor of his inclination by the force to which 
 he submitted. Unless, indeed, you think those men deserving 
 of reproach who have fallen among enemies or among thieves, 
 and who then act differently under compulsion from what they 
 would if they were free. No one of us is ignorant, even if we 
 have had no personal experience of it, of the mode of proceed- 
 ing adopted by a king. These are the orders given by kings, 
 — "Take notice," "Obey orders," "Do not complain when 
 you are not asked." These are their threats, — "If I catch 
 you here to-morrow, you shall die." Expressions which we 
 ought to read and consider, not only for the purpose of being 
 amused by them, but in order to learn to beware of their au- 
 thors, and to avoid them. 
 
 But from the circumstance of this employment itself an- 
 other charge arises. For the prosecutor says, that while Pos- 
 tumus was collecting the money for Gabinius, he also amass- 
 ed money for himself out of the tenths belonging to the gen- 
 erals. I do not quite understand what this charge means ; 
 whether Postumus is charged with having made an addition 
 of one per cent, to the tenth, as our own collectors are in the 
 habit of doing, or whether he deducted that sum from the 
 total amount of the tenths. If he made that addition, then 
 eleven thousand talents came to Gabinius. But not only was 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 231 
 
 the amount mentioned by you ten thousand talent?, but that 
 also was the sum at which it was estimated by them. I add 
 this consideration also. How can it be likely, that when the 
 burden of the tributes was already so heavy, an addition of 
 one thousand talents could be made to so large a sum which 
 was to be collected ! or that, when a man, a most avaricious 
 man as you make him out, was to receive so large a reward, 
 he would put up with a diminution of a thousand talents'? 
 For it was not like Gabinius, to give up so vast a portion of 
 what he had a right to ; nor was it natural for the king to 
 allow him to impose so great an additional tax on his sub- 
 jects. Witnesses will be produced, deputies from Alexandria. 
 They have not said a word against Gabinius. Nay, they have 
 even praised Gabinius. Where, then, is that custom ; what 
 has become of the usages of courts of justice ? Where are 
 your precedents ? Is it usual to produce a witness to give ev- 
 idence against a man who has been the collector of monev 
 when he has not been able to say a word against the man in 
 whose name the money was collected ? Nay more ; if it is 
 usual to produce a man who has said nothing, is it usual to 
 produce one who has spoken in his praise*? Is it not custom- 
 ary rather to look on such a cause as already decided, and to 
 think that it is sufficient to read the previous evidence of the 
 witnesses, without producing the men themselves'? 
 
 XII. And this intimate companion and friend of mine says 
 also that the men of Alexandria had the same reason for prais- 
 ing Gabinius that I had for defending him. My reason, O 
 Caius Memmius, for defending him was, that I had become 
 reconciled to him. Nor do I repent of considering my friend- 
 ships immortal, but my enmities mortal. For if you think 
 that I defended him against my will, because I did not like to 
 oifend Pompeius, you are very ignorant both of his character 
 and of mine. For Pompeius would not have wished me to 
 do any thing contrary to my inclination for his sake. Nor 
 would I, to whom the liberty of all the citizens has always 
 been the dearest object, ever have abandoned my own. As 
 long as I was on terms of the greatest enmity to Gabinius, 
 Pompeius was in no respect the less my dearest friend. Nor 
 after I had made to his authority that concession to which it 
 was entitled from me, did I feign any thing ; I could not be- 
 have with treachery so as to injure the very man whom I had 
 just been obliging. For by refusing to be reconciled to my 
 
232 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 enemy, I was doing no barm to Pompeius : but if I bad rl- 
 lowed liirn to reconcile us, and yet bad myself been recon- 
 ciled to Gabinius with a treacberous intention, I sbould have 
 behaved dishonestly, — principally, indeed, to myself, but in tbe 
 next degree to him also. 
 
 But, however, I will say no more about myself. Let us re- 
 turn to those Alexandrians. What a face those men have ! 
 What audacity ! The other day, when we were present at 
 the trial of Gabinius, they were cross-examined at every third 
 word they said. They declared that the money had not been 
 given to Gabinius. The evidence of Pompeius was read at 
 the same time, to the effect that he had written to the king 
 that no money had been given to Gabinius except for mili- 
 tary purposes. "At that time," says the prosecutor, "the 
 judges refused to believe the Alexandrians." What does he 
 say next? "Now they do believe them." Why so? "Be- 
 cause they now affirm what they then denied." What of 
 that ? Is this the way in which we are to regard witnesses, 
 — to refuse them belief when they deny a thing, but to be- 
 lieve the very same men when they affirm a thing 1 But if 
 they told the truth then, when they spoke with every appear- 
 ance of truth, they are telling lies now. If they told lies then t 
 they must give us good proof that they are now speaking the 
 truth. Why need I say more. Let them hold their tongues. 
 We have heard men speak of Alexandria before. Now we 
 know it from our own experience. Thence it is, that every 
 sort of chicanery comes. Thence, I say, comes every sort of 
 deceit. It is from that people that all the plots of the farce- 
 writers are derived. And, indeed, there is nothing which I 
 wish for more, O judges, than to see the witnesses face to face. 
 
 XIII. They gave their evidence a little while ago before 
 this tribunal, at the same time that we ourselves did. With 
 what effrontery did they then repudiate the charge of this ten 
 thousand talents! You are acquainted by this time with the. 
 absurd ways of the Greeks. They shrugged their shoulders 
 at that time, I suppose, in respect of the existing emergency; 
 but now there is no such necessity. When any one has once 
 perjured himself he can not be believed afterward, not even 
 if he swears by more gods than he did before; especially, O 
 judges, when in trials of this sort there is not usually any 
 room for a new witness; and on that account the same judges 
 are retained who were judges in the case of the original de* 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 233 
 
 fendant, because every thing is already known to them, and 
 nothing new can be invented. 
 
 Actions on the formula, "What has become of that money," 
 are usually decided, not by any proceedings taken especially 
 with reference to them, but by those which were adopted in 
 the case of the original defendant. Therefore, if Gabinius 
 had either given sureties, or if the people had got as large a 
 sum out of his property as the damages amounted to, then, 
 however large a sum had been obtained from him by Postu- 
 mus, none would have been demanded back again. So that 
 it may easily be seen, that in a case of this sort, the money is 
 only demanded back again from any one who has been clear- 
 ly proved in the former action to have become possessed of it. 
 But at present what is the question under discussion I Where 
 in the world are we ? What can be either said or imagined 
 so unprecedented, so unsuitable, so preposterous as this ? That 
 man is being prosecuted who did not receive any money from 
 the king, as it has been decided that Gabinius did, but who 
 lent a vast sum of money to the king. Therefore, he gave it to 
 Gabinius, as he certainly did not repay it to Postumus, Tell 
 me now, I beg, since the man who owed Postumus money did 
 not pay it to him, but gave money to Gabinius, now that Ga- 
 binius is condemned has he paid him back that money, or does 
 he owe it to him still? 
 
 XIV. " Oh, but Postumus has the money, and is hiding it." 
 For there are men who talk in this wav. What a strange 
 sort of ostentation and vain-gloriousness is this ! If he had 
 never originally had any thing, still, if he had acquired a for- 
 tune, there could be no reason why he should conceal his hav- 
 ing it. But in the case of a man who had inherited two am- 
 ple and splendid patrimonial estates, and who had, moreover, 
 increased his property by legitimate and honorable means, 
 what reason could there possibly be why he should wish to 
 be supposed to have nothing? Are we to believe that, when 
 he was induced by the hope of interest to lend his money, 
 his object was to have as large an estate as possible, but that 
 after he had got back the money which he had lent, he then 
 wished to be thought to be in want? He is certainly aiming 
 at quite a new sort of glory. " And again," says the prose- 
 cutor, "he acted in a very arbitrary manner at Alexandria." 
 I should rather say he was treated in a most arbitrary, ay, in 
 a most insolent manner ; he himself had to endure inprison- 
 
234 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ment. He saw his intimate friends thrown into prison. Death 
 was constantly before his eyes. And at last, naked and needy, 
 he fled from the kingdom. "But his money was employed in 
 commerce in other quarters. We have heard that ships be- 
 longing to Postumus arrived at Puteoli, and merchandise be- 
 longing to him was seen there, things only showy and of no 
 real value, made of paper, and linen, and glass ; and there were 
 several ships entirely filled with such articles ; but there was 
 also one little ship, the contents of which were not known." 
 That voyage to Puteoli (such was the conversation at that 
 time), and the course taken by the crew, and the parade they 
 made, and the fact, too, of the name of Postumus being rather 
 unpopular with some spiteful people, on account of some idea 
 or other respecting his money, filled in one summer numbers 
 of ears with those topics of conversation. 
 
 XV. But if, O judges, you wish to know the truth, — if the 
 liberality of Caius Caesar, which is very great to every one, 
 had not been quite incredible toward my client, we should 
 long since have ceased to have Postumus among us in the 
 forum. He by himself, took upon himself the burden of many 
 of Postumus' s friends; and those responsibilities, which dur- 
 ing the prosperity of Postumus many of his friends supported 
 by dividing them, now that he is unfortunate, Caesar supports 
 the whole of. You see, O judges, the shadow and phantom 
 of a Roman knight, preserved by the assistance and good faith 
 of one single friend. Nothing can be taken from him except 
 this image of his former dignity, and that Caesar by himself 
 preserves and maintains. And that, even amid his greatest 
 distresses, is still to be attributed to him in an eminent degree. 
 
 Unless, indeed, this can be effected by a moderate degree of 
 nrtue, that so just a man as Csesar should think this my client 
 of so much consequence, especially now that he is in distress 
 and absent, and while he himself is in the enjoyment of such 
 splendid fortune that it is a great thing for him to give a 
 thought to the fortunes of others ; while he is so incessantly 
 busied about the mighty achievements which he has performed 
 and is still performing, that it would be no wonder if he for- 
 got other people altogether ; and even if he afterward recol- 
 lected that he had forgotten them, he would easily find excuse 
 for so doing. 
 
 I have, indeed, before now, become acquainted with many 
 virtues of Caius Caesar, great and incredible virtues. But 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 235 
 
 those other virtues of his are suited as it were to a more ex- 
 tensive theatre, are what I may almost call virtues to catch 
 the eye of the people. To select a place for a camp, to array 
 an army, to storm cities, to put to flight the army of the ene- 
 my, to "endure the severity of cold and bad weather, which we 
 can hardly support sheltered by the houses of this city ; at 
 this very time 1 to be pursuing the enemy, at a time when 
 even the wild beasts hide themselves in their lurking-places, 
 and when all wars are suspended by the general consent of 
 nations ; — these are great deeds : who denies it ! But still 
 they are prompted by vast rewards, being handed down to the 
 eternal recollection of men. So that there is less reason to 
 wonder at a man's performing them who is ambitious of im- 
 mortality. 
 
 XVI. This is wonderful praise, which is not celebrated by 
 the verses of poets, nor by the records of annals, but is esti- 
 mated by the judgments of wise men. He took up the cause 
 of a Roman knight, his own ancient friend, one zealous for, 
 attached and devoted to himself, who was getting involved in 
 difficulties; not through licentiousness, nor through any dis- 
 creditable expense and waste to gratify his passions, but 
 through an honest endeavor to increase his fortune ; he would 
 not allow him to fall ; he propped him up and supported him 
 with his estate, his fortune, and his good faith, and he supports 
 him to this day. Nor will he allow his friend, trembling in 
 the balance as he is, to fall ; nor does the splendor of his own 
 reputation at all dazzle his eyes, nor does the height of his OAvn 
 position and of his own renown at all obscure the piercing 
 vision of his mind. Grant that those achievements of his are 
 great things, as in truth they are ; every one else may agree 
 with my opinion or not, as he pleases, for I, amid all his power 
 and all his good-fortune, prefer this liberality of his toward 
 his friends, and his recollection of old friendship, to all the rest 
 of his virtues. And you, O judges, ought not only not to de- 
 spise or to regret this goodness of so novel a kind, so unusual 
 in illustrious and pre-eminently powerful men, but even to em- 
 brace and increase it ; and so much the more, because you see 
 that these days have been taken for the purpose of, as it were, 
 undermining his dignity; from which nothing can be taken 
 which he will not either bravely bear, or easily replace. But 
 if he hears that his dearest friend has been stripped of his hon* 
 
 1 This trial took place in January. 
 
236 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 orable position, that he will not endure without just indigna- 
 tion ; and yet he will not have lost what he can have no possi- 
 ble hope of ever recovering. 
 
 XVII. These arguments ought to be quite sufficient for men 
 who are of a just disposition ; and more than sufficient for you, 
 who we feel sure are men of the greatest justice. But, in or- 
 der fully to satisfy every body's suspicions or malevolence, o>* 
 even cruelty, we will take this statement too. "Postumus 
 is hiding his money ; the king's riches are concealed." Is there 
 any one of all this people who would like to have all the prop- 
 erty of Caius Rabirius Postumus knocked down to him for 
 one single sesterce I 1 But, miserable man that I am! with 
 what great pain do I say this, — Come, Postumus, are you the 
 son of Caius Curius, the son, as far as his judgment and in- 
 clination go, of Caius Rabirius, not in reality and by nature 
 the son of his sister ? Are you the man who is so liberal to 
 all his relations ; whose kindness has enriched many men ; 
 who has never wasted any thing ; who has never spent any 
 money on any profligacy'? and all your property, O Postumus, 
 knocked down by me for one single sesterce? Oh how mis- 
 erable and bitter is my office as an auctioneer ! But he, mis- 
 erable man, even wishes to be convicted by you ; and to have 
 his property sold, so that every one may be repaid his principal. 
 Pie has no concern about any thing except his own good faith. 
 Nor will you, if you should, in his case, think fit to forget your 
 habitual humanity, be able to take from him any thing beyond 
 his property. But, O judges, I beg and entreat you not to for- 
 get that usual course of yours, and so much the more as in this 
 instance money which he has nothing to do with is being claim- 
 ed of a man who is not even repaid his own. Odium is sought 
 to be stirred up against a man, who ought to find an ally in 
 the general pity. 
 
 But now, since, as I hope, I have discharged as well as I 
 have been able to, the obligations of good faith to you, O Pos- 
 tumus, I will give you also the aid of my tears, as I well may; 
 for I saw abundant tears shed by you at the time of my own 
 misfortune* That miserable night is constantly present to the 
 eyes of all my friends, on which you came to me with your 
 forces, and devoted yourself wholly to me. You supported 
 me at that time cf my departure with your companions, with 
 your protection, and even as much gold as that time would 
 1 Those who boegirt a property took It wi'h all its liabilities. 
 
FOR C. R. POSTUMUS. 237 
 
 admit of. During the time of my absence you were never de- 
 ficient in comforting and aiding my children, or my wife. I 
 can produce many men who have been recalled from banish- 
 ment as witnesses of your liberality ; conduct which I have 
 often heard was of the greatest assistance to your father, whose 
 behavior was like your own, when he Avas tried for his life. 
 But at present I am afraid of every thing : I dread even the 
 unpopularity which your very kindness of disposition may pro- 
 voke. Already the weeping of so many men as we behold in- 
 dicates how beloved you arc by your own relations ; but, as 
 for me, grief enfeebles and stitles my voice. I do entreat you, 
 O judges, do not deprive this most excellent man, than whom 
 no more virtuous man has ever lived, of the name of a Eoman 
 knight, of the enjoyment of this light, and of the pleasure of 
 beholding you. He begs nothing else of you, except to be al- 
 lowed with uplifted eyes to behold this city, and to pace 
 around the forum ; a pleasure which fortune would have al- 
 ready deprived him of, if the power of one single friend had 
 not come to his assistance. 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN BEHALF OF MARCUS 
 
 CLAUDIUS MARCELLUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. . 
 
 Marcus Claudius Marcellus was descended from the most illustrious fam- 
 ilies at Rome, and had been consul with Servius Sulpicius Rufus ; in 
 which office he had given great offense to Caesar by making a motion 
 in the senate to deprive him of his command ; and in the civil war he 
 espoused the side of Pompeius, and had been present at the battle of 
 Pharsalia, after which he retired to Lesbos. But after some time the 
 whole senate interceded with Caesar to pardon him, and to allow him 
 to return to his country. And when he yielded to their entreaties, Cic- 
 ero made the following speech, thanking Caesar for his magnanimity ; 
 though he had, as he says himself (Ep. Fam. iv. 4), determined to say 
 nothing ; but he was afraid that if he continued silent Caesar would in- 
 terpret it as a proof that he despaired of the republic. 
 
 Caesar, though he saw the senate unanimous in their petition for Marcel- 
 lus, yet had the motion for his pardon put to the vote, and called for 
 the opinion of every individual senator on it. Cicero appears at this 
 time to have believed that Caesar intended to restore the republic, as he 
 mentions in his letters (Ep. Fam. xiri. 68). 
 
238 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 I. Tins da) 7 , O conscript fathers, has brought with it an end 
 to the long silence in which I have of late indulged ; not out 
 of any fear, but partly from sorrow, partly from modesty ; and 
 at the same time it has revived in me my ancient habit of say- 
 ing what my wishes and opinions are. For I can not by any 
 means pass over in silence such great humanity, such unprec- 
 edented and unheard-of clemency, such moderation in the ex- 
 ercise of supreme and universal power, such incredible and 
 almost godlike wisdom. For now that Marcus Marcellus, O 
 conscript fathers, has been restored to you and the republic, I 
 think that not only his voice and authority are preserved and 
 restored to you and to the republic, but my own also. 
 
 For I was concerned, O conscript fathers, and most exceed- 
 ingly grieved, w r hen I saw such a man as he is, who had 
 espoused the same cause which I myself had, not enjoying 
 the same good fortune as myself; nor was I able to persuade 
 myself to think it right or fair that I should be going on in 
 my usual routine, while that rival and imitator of my zeal 
 and labors, who had been a companion and comrade of mine 
 throughout, was separated from me. • Therefore, you, O Caius 
 Caesar, have reopened to me my former habits of life, which 
 were closed up, and you have raised, as it were, a standard to 
 all these men, as a sort of token to lead them to entertain 
 hopes of the general welfare of the republic. For it was seen 
 by me before in many instances, and especially in my own, 
 and now it is clearly understood by every body, since you have 
 granted Marcus Marcellus to the senate and people of Rome, 
 in spite of your recollection of all the injuries you have received 
 at his hands, that you prefer the authority of this order and 
 the dignity of the republic to the indulgence of your own re- 
 sentment or your own suspicions. 
 
 He, indeed, has this day reaped the greatest possible reward 
 for the virtuous tenor of his previous life ; in the great una- 
 nimity of the senate in his favor, and also in your own most 
 dignified and important opinion of him. And from this you, 
 in truth, must perceive what great credit there is in conferring 
 a kindness, when there is such glory to be got even by receiv- 
 ng one. And he, too, is fortunate whose safety is now the 
 lause of scarcely less joy to all other men than it will be to 
 limself when he is informed of it. And this honor has de- 
 irvedly and most rightfully fallen to his lot. For who is 
 superior to him either in nobleness of birth, or in honesty, or 
 
FOR M. C. MARCELLUS. 239 
 
 in zeal for virtuous studies, or in purity of life, or in any de- 
 scription whatever of excellence. 
 
 II. No one is blessed with such a stream of genius, no one 
 is endowed with such vigor and richness of eloquence, either 
 as a speaker or as a writer, as to be able, I will not say to 
 extol, but even, O Caius Cassar, plainly to relate all your 
 achievements. Nevertheless, I assert, and with your leave I 
 maintain, that in all of them you never gained greater and 
 truer glory than you have acquired this day. I am accustomed 
 often to keep this idea before my eyes, and often to affirm in 
 frequent conversations, that all the exploits of our own gener- 
 als, all those of foreign nations and of most powerful states, 
 all the mighty deeds of the most illustrious monarchs, can be 
 compared with yours neither in the magnitude of your wars, 
 nor in the number of your battles, nor in the variety of coun- 
 tries which you have conquered, nor in the rapidity of your 
 conquests, nor in the great difference of character with which 
 your wars have been marked ; and that those countries tin* 
 most remote from each other could not be traveled over more 
 rapidly by any one in a journey, than they have been visited 
 by your, I will not say journeys, but victories. 
 
 And if I were not to admit, that those actions are so great 
 that scarcely any man's mind or comprehension is capable of 
 doing justice to them, I should be very senseless. But there 
 are other actions greater than those. For some people are in 
 the habit of disparaging military glory, and of denying the 
 whole of it to the generals, and of giving the multitude a share 
 of it also, so that it may not be the peculiar property of the 
 commanders. And, no doubt, in the affairs of war, the valor 
 of the troops, the advantages of situation, the assistance of 
 allies, fleets, and supplies, have great influence; and a most 
 important share in all such transactions, Fortune claims for 
 herself, as of her right ; and whatever has been done success- 
 fully she considers almost entirely as her own work. 
 
 But in this glory, O Caius Caesar, which you have just earn- 
 ed, you have no partner. The whole of this, however great it 
 may be, — and surely it is as great as possible, — the whole of 
 it, I say, is your own. The centurion can claim for himself 
 no share of that praise, neither can the prefect, nor the bat 
 talion, nor the squadron. Nay, even that very mistress of alj 
 human affairs, Fortune herself, can not thrust herself into any 
 participation in that glory ; she yields to you ; she confesses 
 
240 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 that it is all your own, your peculiar private desert. For 
 rashness is never united with "wisdom, nor is chance ever ad- 
 mitted to regulate affairs conducted with prudence. 
 
 III. You have subdued nations, savage in their barbarism, 
 countless in their numbers, boundless, if we regard the extent 
 of country peopled by them, and rich in every kind of re- 
 source ; but still you were only conquering things, the nature 
 and condition of which was such that they could be overcome 
 by force. For there is no strength so great that it can not be 
 weakened and broken by arms and violence. Eut to subdue 
 one's inclinations, to master one's angry feelings, to be moder- 
 ate in the hour of victory, to not merely raise from the ground 
 a prostrate adversary, eminent for noble birth, for genius, and 
 for virtue, but even to increase his previous dignity, — they arc 
 actions of such a nature, that the man who does them, I do 
 not compare to the most illustrious man, but I consider equal 
 to God. 
 
 Therefore, O Caius Cresar, those military glories of yours 
 will be celebrated not only in our own literature and language, 
 but in those of almost all nations ; nor is there any age which 
 will ever be silent about your praises. But still, deeds of that 
 sort, somehow or other, even when they are read, appear to 
 be overwhelmed with the cries of the soldiers and the sound 
 of the trumpets. But when we hear or read of any thing 
 which has been done with clemency, with humanity, with jus- 
 tice, with moderation, and with wisdom, especially in a time 
 of anger, which is very adverse to prudence, and in the hour 
 of victory, which is naturally insolent and haughty, with what 
 ardor are we then inflamed (even if the actions are not such 
 as have really been performed, but are only fabulous), so as 
 often to love those whom we have never seen ! But as for 
 you, whom we behold present among us, whose mind, and 
 feelings, and countenance, we at this moment see to be such, 
 that you wish to preserve every thing which the fortune of 
 war has left to the republic, oh with what praises must we 
 extol you 1 ? with what zeal must we follow you? with what 
 affection must we devote ourselves to you ? The very walls, 
 I declare, the very walls of this senate-house appear to me ea- 
 ger to return you thanks; because, in a short time, you will 
 have restored their ancient authority to this venerable abode 
 of themselves and of their ancestors. 
 
 IV. In truth, O conscript fathers, when I just now, in com' 
 
FOR M. C. MARCELLUS. 241 
 
 mon with you, beheld the tears of Caius Marcellus, a most 
 virtuous man, endowed with a never-to-be-forgotten affection 
 for his brother, the recollection of all the Marcelli presented 
 itself to my heart. For you, O Caesar, have, by preserving 
 Marcus Marcellus, restored their dignity even to those Mar- 
 celli who are dead, and you have saved that most noble family, 
 now reduced to a small number, from perishing. You, there- 
 fore, justly prefer this day to all the splendid and innumerable 
 congratulations which at different times have been addressed 
 to you. For this exploit is your own alone ; the other achieve- 
 ments which have been performed by you as general, were 
 great indeed, but still they were performed by the agency of a 
 great and numerous band of comrades. But in this exploit 
 you are the general, and you are your own sole comrade : and/ 
 the act itself is such that no lapse of time will ever put an encft 
 to your monuments and trophies ; for there is nothing which ) 
 is wrought by manual labor which time will not sometime or : 
 other impair or destroy ; but this justice and lenity of yours j 
 will every day grow brighter and brighter, so that, in propor- \ 
 tion as time takes away from the effect of your deed, in the 
 same degree it will add to your glory. And you had already 
 surpassed all other conquerors in civil wars, in equity, and 
 clemency, but this day you have surpassed even yourself. I 
 fear that this which I am saying can not, when it is only heard, 
 be understood as fully as I myself think and feel it ; you ap- 
 pear to have surpassed victory itself, since you have remitted 
 in favor of the conquered those things which victory had put 
 in your power. For though by the conditions of the victory 
 itself, we who were conquered were all ruined, we still have 
 been preserved by the deliberate decision of your clemency. 
 You, therefore, deserve to be the only man who is never con- 
 quered, since you conquer the conditions and the violent priv- 
 ileges of victory itself. 
 
 V. And, O conscript fathers, remark how widely this decis- 
 ion of Caius Caesar extends. For by it, all of us who, under 
 the compulsion of some miserable and fatal destiny of the re- 
 public, were driven to take up arms as we did, though we are 
 still not free from the fault of having erred as men may, are at 
 all events released from all imputation of wickedness. For 
 when, at your entreaty, he preserved Majcus Marcellus to the 
 republic, he, at the same time, restored me to myself and to 
 the republic though no one entreated him in my favor, and 
 
 L 
 
242 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 he restored all the other most honorable men who were in the 
 same case to ourselves and to their country ; whom you now 
 behold in numbers and dignity present in this very assembly. 
 He has not brought his enemies into the senate-house ; but he 
 has decided that the war was undertaken by most of them 
 rather out of ignorance, and because of some ungrounded and 
 empty fear, than out of either any depraved desires or cruelty. 
 
 And in that war, I always thought it right to listen to all 
 proposals that gave any hope of peace, and I always grieved, 
 that not only peace, but that even the language of those citi- 
 zens who asked for peace, should be rejected. For I never 
 approved of either that or of any civil war whatever ; and my 
 counsels were always allied to peace and peaceful measures, 
 not to war and arms. I followed the man from my own pri- 
 vate feelings, not because of my judgment of his public con- 
 duct ; and the faithful recollection of the grateful disposition 
 which I cherish had so much influence with me, that though 
 I had not only no desire for victory, but no hope even of it, 
 I rushed on, knowingly, and with my eyes open, as it were, 
 to a voluntary death. And, indeed, my sentiments in the mat- 
 ter were not at all concealed yfov in this assembly, before any 
 decisive steps were taken either way, I said many things in 
 favor of peace, and even while the war was going on I retain- 
 ed the same opinions, even at the risk of my life. 1 And from 
 this fact, no one will form so unjust an opinion as to doubt 
 what Cassar's own inclination respecting the war was, when, 
 the moment that it was in his power, he declared his opinion 
 in favor of saving the advisers of peace, but showed his anger 
 against the others. And, perhaps, that was not very strange 
 at a time when the event of the war was still uncertain, and 
 its fortune still undecided. But he who, when victorious, at- 
 taches himself to the advisers of peace, plainly declares that 
 he would have preferred having no war at all even to con- 
 quering. 
 
 VI. And in this matter I myself am a witness in favor of 
 
 1 Cicero was not present at the battle of Pharsalia, but remained at 
 Dyrrachium, vexed at his advice bein g totally disregarded. Cato also 
 remained at Dyrrachium. When Labienus brought them the news of 
 Pompey's defeat, Cato offered Cicero the command, as the superior in 
 dignity ; and Plutarch relates, that on his refusal of it, young Pompey 
 was so enraged, that he would have killed him on the spot if Cato had 
 not prevented him. And this is what Middleton (who quotes the sentence 
 in the text) thinks that Cicero is alluding to here. 
 
FOR M. C. MARCELLUS. 243 
 
 Marcus Marcellus. For as our opinions have at all times 
 agreed in time of peace, so did they then in respect of that 
 war*. How often have I seen him affected with the deepest 
 grief at the insolence of certain men, and dreading also the 
 ferocity of victory ! On which account your liberality, O Caius 
 Caesar, ought to be more acceptable to us who have seen those 
 things. For now we may compare, not the causes of the two 
 parties together, but the use which each would have made of 
 victory. We have seen your victory terminated at once by 
 the result of your battles ; we have seen no sword unsheathed 
 in the city. The citizens whom we have lost were stricken 
 down by the force of Mars, not by evil feelings let loose by 
 victory ; so that no man can doubt that Caius Csesar would 
 even raise many from the dead if that were possible, since he 
 does preserve all those of that army that he can. 
 
 But of the other party I will say no more than what we 
 were all afraid of at the time, namely, that theirs would have 
 been too angry a victory. For some of them were in the hab- 
 it of indulging in threats not only against those of their ene- 
 mies who were in arms, but even against those who remained 
 quiet ; and they used to say that the matter to be considered 
 was not what each man had thought, but where he had been. 
 So that it appears to me that the immortal gods, even if they 
 were inflicting punishment on the Roman people for some of- 
 fense, when they stirred up so serious and melancholy a civil 
 war, are at length appeased, or at all events satiated, and have 
 now made all our hopes of safety depend on the clemency and 
 wisdom of the conqueror. 
 
 Rejoice, then, in that admirable and virtuous disposition of 
 yours; and enjoy not only your fortune and glory, but also 
 your own natural good qualities, and amiable inclinations and 
 manners ; for those are the things which produce the greatest 
 fruit and pleasure to a wise man. When you call to mind 
 your other achievements, although you will often congratu- 
 late yourself on your valor, still you will often have reason 
 to thank your good fortune also. But as often as you think 
 of us whom you have chosen to live safely in the republic as 
 well as yourself, you will be thinking at the same time of 
 your own exceeding kindness, of your own incredible liberal- 
 ity, of your own unexampled wisdom ; qualities which I will 
 venture to call not only the greatest, but the only real bless- 
 ings. For there is so much splendor in genuine glory, so 
 
244 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 much dignity in magnanimity and real practical wisdom, that 
 these qualities appear to be given to a man by virtue, while 
 all other advantages seem only lent to him by fortune. 
 
 Be not wearied then in the preservation of virtuous men ; 
 especially of those who have fallen, not from any evil desires, 
 or depravity of disposition, but merely from an opinion of 
 their duty, — a foolish and erroneous one perhaps, but certainly 
 not a wicked one, — and because they were misled by imaginary 
 claims which they fancied the republic had on them. For it 
 is no fault of yours if some people were afraid of you ; and, 
 on the other hand, it is your greatest praise that they have 
 now felt that they had no reason to fear you. 
 
 VII. But now I come to those severe complaints, and to 
 those most terrible suspicions that you have given utterance 
 to ; of dangers which should be guarded against not more by 
 you yourself than by all the citizens, and most especially by 
 us who have been preserved by you. And although I trust 
 that the suspicion is an ungrounded one, still I will not speak 
 so as to make light of it. For caution for you is caution for 
 ourselves. So that, if we must err on one side or the other, I 
 would rather appear too fearful, than not sufficiently prudent. 
 But still, who is there so frantic? Any one of your own 
 friends ? And yet who are more your friends than those to 
 whom you have restored safety which they did not venture to 
 hope for? Any one of that number who were with you ? It 
 is not credible that any man should be so insane as not to pre- 
 fer the life of that man who was his general when he obtained 
 the greatest advantages of all sorts, to his own. But if your 
 friends have no thoughts of wickedness, need you take precau- 
 tions lest your enemies may be entertaining such? Who are 
 they ? For all those men who were your enemies have either 
 already lost their lives through their obstinacy, or else have 
 preserved them through your mercy ; so that either none of 
 your enemies survive, or those who do survive are your most 
 devoted friends. t 
 
 But still, as there are so many hiding-places and so many 
 dark corners in men's minds, let us increase your suspicions, 
 for by so doing we shall at the same time increase your dili- 
 gence. For who is there so ignorant of every thing, so very 
 new to the affairs of the republic, so entirely destitute of 
 thought either for his own or for the general safety, as not to 
 understand that his own safety is bound up with yours? that 
 
FOR M. C. MARCELLUS. 245 
 
 the lives of all men depend on your single existence? I my- 
 self, in truth, while I think of you day and night, — as I ought 
 to do, — fear only the chances to which all men are liable, and 
 the uncertain events of health and the frail tenure of our com- 
 mon nature, and I grieve that, while the republic ought to be 
 immortal, it depends wholly on the life of one mortal man. 
 But if to the chances of human life and the uncertain condi- 
 tion of man's health there were to be added also any conspiracy 
 of wickedness and treachery, then what god should we think 
 able to assist the republic, even if he were to desire to do so 1 
 
 VIII. All things, O Caius Caesar, which you now see lying 
 stricken and prostrate — as it was inevitable that they should 
 be — through the violence of war, must now be raised up again 
 by you alone. The courts of justice must be re-established, 
 confidence must be restored, licentiousness must be repressed, 
 the increase of population must be encouraged, every thing 
 which has become lax and disordered must be braced up and 
 strengthened bv strict laws. In so vast a civil war, when 
 there was such ardor of feeling and of warlike preparation 
 on both sides, it was impossible but that — whatever the ulti- 
 mate result of the war might be — the republic which had been 
 violently shaken by it should lose many ornaments of its dig- 
 nity and many bulwarks of its security, and that each general 
 should do manv things while in arms, which he would have 
 forbidden to have been done while clad in the garb of peace. 
 And all those wounds of war thus inflicted now require you 
 attention, and there is no one except you who is able to heal 
 them. Therefore, I was concerned when I heard that cele- 
 brated and wise savins; of vours, " I have lived long enough 
 to satisfy either nature or glory." Sufficiently long, if you 
 please, for nature, and I will add, if you like, for glory ; but 
 which is of the greatest consequence of all, certainly not long 
 enough for your country. 
 
 Give up then, I entreat you, that wisdom of learned men 
 shown in their contempt of death ; do not be wise at our ex- 
 pense. For it has often come to my ears that you are in the 
 habit of using that expression much too frequently — that you 
 have lived long enough for yourself. I dare say you have ; 
 but I could only be willing to hear you say so if you lived 
 for yourself alone, or if you had been born for yourself alone. 
 But as it is, — as your exploits have brought the safety of all 
 the citizens and the entire republic to a dependence on you, — 
 
 51 
 
240 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 you are so far from having completed your greatest labors, 
 that you have not even laid the foundations which you design 
 to lay. And will you then limit your life, not by the welfare 
 of the republic, but by the tranquillity of your own mind? 
 What will you do, if that is not even sufficient for your 
 glory, of which — wise man though you be — you will not 
 deny that you are exceedingly desirous? "Is it then," you 
 will say, "but small glory that we shall leave behind us? 
 It may, indeed, be sufficient for others, however many they 
 may be, and insufficient for you alone. For whatever it is, 
 however ample it may be, it certainly is insufficient, as long 
 as there is any thing greater still. And if, O Caius Caesar, 
 this was to be the result of your immortal achievements, that 
 after conquering all your enemies, you were to leave the re- 
 public in the state in which it now is ; then beware, I beg of 
 you, lest your virtue should earn admiration rather than solid 
 glory ; since the glory which is illustrious and which is cele- 
 brated abroad, is the fame of many and great services done 
 either to one's own friends, or to one's country, or to the whole 
 race of mankind. 
 
 IX. This, then, is the part which remains to you ; this is 
 the cause which you have before you ; this is what you must 
 now labor at, — to settle the republic, and to enjoy it yourself, 
 as the first of its citizens, in the greatest tranquillity and 
 peacefulness. And then, if you please, when you have dis- 
 charged the obligations which you owe to your country, and 
 when you have satisfied nature herself with the devotion of 
 your life, then you may say that you have lived long enough. 
 For what is the meaning of this very word " long" when ap- 
 plied to what has an end ? And when the end comes, then 
 nil past pleasure is to be accounted as nothing, because there 
 is none to come after it. Although that spirit of yours lias 
 never been content with this narrow space which nature has 
 afforded us to live in ; but has always been inflamed with a 
 desire of immortality. Nor is this to be considered your life 
 which is contained in your body and in vour breath. That, — 
 
 www * 
 
 that, I say, is your life, which will flourish in the memory of 
 all ages; which posterity will cherish; which eternity itself 
 will always preserve. This is what vou must be subservient 
 to; it is to this that you ought to display yourself: which in- 
 deed has long .ago had many actions of yours to admire, and 
 which now is expecting some which it may also praise. 
 
FOR M. C MARCELLUS 247 
 
 Unquestionably, posterity will stand amazed when they hear 
 and read of your military commands, — of the provinces which 
 you have added to the empire, — of the Rhine, of the ocean, of 
 the Nile, all made subject to us, — of your countless battles, of 
 your incredible victories, of your innumerable monuments and 
 triumphs. But unless this city is now securely settled by your 
 counsels and by your institutions, your name will indeed be 
 talked about very extensively, but your glory will have no 
 secure abode, no sure home in which to repose. There will 
 be also among those who shall be born hereafter, as there has 
 been among us, great disputes, when some with their praises 
 will extol your exploits to the skies, and others, perhaps, will 
 miss something in them, — and that, too, the most important 
 thing of all, — unless you extinguish the conflagration of civil 
 war by the safety of the country, so that the one shall ap- 
 pear to have been the effect of destiny and the other the work 
 of your own practical wisdom. Have regard, then, to those 
 judges w r ho will judge you many ages afterward, and who 
 will very likely judge you more honestly than we can. For 
 their judgment will be unbiased by affection or by ambitionj 
 and at the same time it will be untainted by hatred or by 
 envy. And even if it will be incapable of affecting you at 
 that time (which is the false opinion held by some men), at 
 all events, it concerns you now to conduct yourself in such a 
 manner that no oblivion shall ever be able to obscure your 
 praises. 
 
 X. The inclinations of the citizens have been very diverse, 
 and their opinions much distracted ; for we showed our va- 
 riance, not only by our counsels and desires, but by arms and 
 warlike operations. And there was obscurity in the designs of, 
 and contention between, the most illustrious generals: many 
 doubted which was the best side ; many, what was expedient 
 for themselves; many, what was becoming; some even felt 
 uncertain as to what it was in their power to do. The re- 
 public has at last come to the end of this miserable and fatal 
 war ; that man has been victorious who has not allowed his 
 animosities to be inflamed by good fortune, but who has miti- 
 gated them by the goodness of his disposition ; and who did 
 not consider all those with whom he was displeased deserving 
 on that account of exile or of death. Arms were laid aside 
 by some, were wrested from the hands of others. He is an 
 ungrateful and an unjust citizen, who, when released from 
 
248 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the danger of .arms, still retains, as it were, an armed spirit, 
 so that that man is better who fell in battle, who spent his 
 life in the cause. For that which seems obstinacy to some 
 people may appear constancy in others. ^But now all dissen- 
 sion is crushed by the arms and extinguished by the justice 
 of the conqueror; it only remains for all men for the future 
 to be animated by one wish, all at least who have not only 
 any wisdom at all, but who are at all in their senses. Unless 
 you, O Caius Caesar, continue safe, and also in the same senti- 
 ments as you have displayed on previous occasions, and on this 
 day most eminently, we can not be safe either. Wherefore we 
 all — we who wish this constitution and these things around 
 us to be safe — exhort and entreat you to take care of your 
 own life, to consult your own safety ; and we all promise to 
 you (that I may say also on behalf of others what I feel re- 
 specting myself), since you think that there is still something 
 concealed, against which it is necessary to guard — we promise 
 you, I say, not only our vigilance and our wariness also to as- 
 sist in those precautions, but we promise to oppose our sides 
 and our bodies as a shield against every danger which can 
 threaten you. 
 
 XI. But let my speech end with the same sentiment as 
 it began. We all, O Caius Caesar, render you the greatest 
 thanks, and we feel even deeper gratitude than we express ; 
 for all feel the same thing, as you might have perceived from 
 the entreaties and tears of all. But because it is not neces- 
 sary for all of them to stand up and say so, the}' wish it at all 
 events that by me, Avho am forced in some degree to rise and 
 speak, should be expressed both all that they feel, and all that 
 is becoming, and all that I myself consider due to Marcus 
 Marcellus, who is thus by you restored to this order, and to 
 the Roman people, and to the republic. For I feel that all 
 men are exulting, not in the safety of one individual alone, 
 but in the general safety of all. And as it becomes the 
 greatest possible affection, such as I was always well known 
 by all men to have toward him, so that I scarcely yielded to 
 Caius Marcellus, his most excellent and affectionate brother, 
 and certainly to no one except him, — that love for him which 
 I displayed by my solicitude, by my anxiety, and my exertions, 
 as long as there was a doubt of his safety, I certainly ought to 
 display at this present time, now that I am relieved from my 
 great care and distress and misery on his account- 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS. 249 
 
 Therefore, O Cains Caesar, I thank you, as if, — though J 
 have not only been preserved in every sort of manner, but 
 also loaded with distinctions by you, — still, by this action of 
 yours, a crowning kindness of the greatest importance was 
 added to the already innumerable benefits which you have 
 heaped upon me, which I did not before believe were capable 
 of any augmentation. ^ 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN DEFENSE OF QUINTUS 
 
 LIGARIUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Quintus Ligarius was a Roman knight, who had been one of the lieuten- 
 ants of Considius, the proconsul of Africa, and one of Pompey's parti- 
 sans, and as such had borne arms against Caesar in Africa, on which 
 account he had gone into voluntary exile, to get out of the reach of 
 the conqueror. But his two brothers had been on Caesar's side, and 
 had joined Pansa and Cicero in interceding with Csssar to pardon him. 
 While Csesar was hesitating, Quintus Tubero. who was an ancient en- 
 emy of his, knowing that Caesar was very unwilling to restore him (for 
 Lioarius was a great lover of liberty), impeached him as having be- 
 haved with great violence in the prosecution of the African war against 
 Caesar, who privately encouraged this proceeding, and ordered the ac- 
 tion to be tried in the forum, where he sat in person as judge to decide 
 it ; and so determined was he against Ligarius, that he is said to have 
 brought the sentence of condemnation with him into court, already 
 drawn up and formally signed and sealed. But he was prevailed upon 
 by Cicero's eloquence* which extorted from him a verdict of acquittal 
 against his will ; and he afterward pardoned Ligarius and allowed him 
 to return to Rome. 
 
 Ligarius afterward became a great friend of Brutus, and joined him in 
 the conspiracy against Caesar. 
 
 I. It is a new crime, and one never heard of before this 
 day, O Caius Cassar, which my relation Quintus Tubero has 
 brought before you, when he accuses Quintus Ligarius with 
 having been in Africa ; and that charge Caius Pansa, a man 
 of eminent genius, relying perhaps on that intimacy with you 
 which he enjoys, has ventured to confess. Therefore I do not 
 know which way I had best proceed. For I had come pre- 
 pared, as you did not know that fact of your own knowledge, 
 
 L2 
 
250 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and could not have heard it from any other quarter, to abuse 
 your ignorance in order to further the safety of a miserable 
 man. But, however, since that which was previously un- 
 known has been ferreted out by the diligence of his enemy, 
 we must, I suppose, confess the truth ; especially as my dear 
 friend Caius Pansa has so acted that it would not now be in 
 my power to deny it. Therefore, abandoning all dispute of 
 the fact, all nry speech must be addressed to your mercy ; by 
 which many have already been preserved, having besought of 
 you, not a release from all guilt, but pardon from admitted 
 error. 
 
 You, therefore, O Tubero, have that which is of all things 
 most desirable for a prosecutor, a defendant who confesses his 
 fault ; but still, one who confesses it only so far as he admits 
 that he was of the same party as you yourself, O Tubero, 
 were, and as that man worthy of all praise, your father, also 
 was. Therefore you must inevitably confess yourselves also 
 to be guilty, before you can find fault with any part of the 
 conduct of Ligarius. 
 
 Quintus Ligarius, then, at a time when there was no sus- 
 picion of war, went as lieutenant into Africa with Caius 
 Considius, in which lieutenancy he made himself so accepta- 
 ble, both to our citizens there and to our allies, that Considi- 
 us on departing from the province could not have given satis- 
 faction to those men if he had appointed any one else to gov- 
 ern it. Therefore, Quintus Ligarius, after refusing it for a 
 long time without effect, took upon himself the government 
 of the province against his will. And while peace lasted, he 
 governed it in such a manner, that his integrity and good 
 faith were most acceptable both to our citizens and to our 
 allies. On a sudden, war broke out, which those who were 
 in Africa heard of as being actually raging before any rumor 
 of its preparation had reached them. But when they did hear 
 of it, partly out of an inconsiderate eagerness, partly out of 
 some blind apprehension, they sought for some one as a lead- 
 er, at first only with the object of securing their safety, and 
 afterward with that of indulging their party-spirit ; while Li- 
 garius, keeping his eyes fixed on home, and wishing to return 
 to his friends, would not allow himself to be implicated in any 
 business of the sort. In the mean time, Publius Attius Varus, 
 who as praetor had obtained the province of Africa, came to 
 Itica. Every one immediately flocked to him, and he seized 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS 251 
 
 on the government with no ordinary eagerness, if that may 
 be called government which was conferred on him. while a 
 private individual, by the clamor of an ignorant mob, without 
 the sanction of any public council. Therefore, Ligarius, who 
 was anxious to avoid being mixed up in any transactions of 
 the sort, remained quiet for some time on the arrival of Varus. 
 
 II. Up to this point, O Caius Caesar, Quintus Ligarius is 
 free from all blame. He left his home, not only not for the 
 purpose of joining in any war, but when there was not even 
 the slightest suspicion of war. Having gone as lieutenant in 
 time of peace, he behaved himself in a most peaceable prov- 
 ince in such a manner, that it wished that peace might last 
 forever. Beyond all question, his departure from Rome with 
 such an object ouglv; not to be and can not be offensive to 
 you. Was, then, hijj remaining there offensive? Much less. 
 For if it was no discreditable inclination that led to his going 
 thither, it was even an honorable necessity which compelled 
 him to remain. B( th these times, then, are free from all 
 fault — the time when he first Vent as lieutenant, and the 
 time when, having been demanded by the province, he was 
 appointed governor of Africa. 
 
 There is a third time : tl^t during which he remained in 
 Africa after the arrival of Varus ; and if that is at all criminal, 
 the crime is one of necessity, not of inclination. Would he, 
 if he could possibly have escaped thence by any means what- 
 ever, would he rather have been at Utica than at Rome, — 
 with Publius Attius, in preference to his own most united 
 brothers? would he rather have been among strangers, than 
 with his own friends ? When his lieutenancy itself had been 
 full of regret and anxietv on account of the extraordinary af- 
 fection subsisting between him and his brothers, could he pos- 
 sibly remain there with any equanimity when separated from 
 those brothers by the discord of war ? 
 
 You have, therefore, O Caesar, no sign as yet of the affec- 
 tions of Quintus Ligarius being alienated from you. And ob- 
 serve, I entreat you, with what good faith I am defending his 
 cause. I am betraying my own by so doing. O the admira- 
 ble clemency, deserving to be celebrated by all possible praise, 
 and publicity, and writings, and monuments ! Marcus Cicero 
 is urgino- in Ligarius' s defense before vou, that the inclinations 
 of another were npt the same as he admits his own to have 
 been ; nor does he fear your silent thoughts, nor is he under 
 
2o2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 any apprehension as to what, while you are hearing of the 
 conduct of another, may occur to you respecting his own. 
 
 III. See how entirely free from fear I am. See how brill- 
 iantly the light of your liberality and wisdom rises upon me 
 while speaking before you ! As far as I can, I will lift up my 
 voice so that the Roman people may hear me. When the war 
 began, O Caesar, when it was even very greatly advanced to- 
 ward its end, I, though compelled by no extraneous force, of 
 my own free judgment and inclination went to join that party 
 which had taken up arms against you. Before whom now 
 am I saying this? Forsooth, before the man who, though he 
 was acquainted with this, nevertheless restored me to the re- 
 public before he saw me ; who sent letters to me from Egypt, 
 to desire me to behave as I always had behaved ; who, when 
 he himself might have been the sole leader of the Roman peo- 
 ple in the whole empire, still permitted me to be the other; 
 by whose gift it was (this very Caius Pansa, who is here pres- 
 ent, bringing me the news) that I retained the fasces wreathed 
 with laurel, as long as I thought it becoming to retain them 
 at all, and who would not have considered that he was giving 
 me safety at all, if he did not give it me without my being 
 iStripped of any of my previous distinctions. 
 
 Observe, I pray you, O Tubero, how I, who do not hesitate 
 to speak of my own conduct, do not venture to make any con- 
 fession with respect to Ligarius : and I have said thus much 
 respecting myself, to induce Tubero to excuse me when I say 
 the same things of him. For I look in the forum on his in- 
 dustry and desire of glory, either on account of the nearness 
 of our relationship, or because I am delighted with his genius 
 <ind with his earnestness, or because I think that the praises 
 of a young man who is my relative redound somewhat to my 
 own credit. But I ask this — Who is it who thinks that it 
 was any crime in Ligarius to have been in Africa ? Why, the 
 very man who himself also wished to be in Africa, and who 
 complains that he was prevented by Ligarius from going there, 
 and who certainly w r as in arms and fought against Caesar. 
 For, O Tubero, what was that drawn sword of yours doing in 
 the battle of Pharsalia ? against whose side was that sword- 
 point of yours aimed? What was the feeling with which you 
 took up arms'? What was your intention ? Where were 
 your eyes? your hands? your eagerness of mind? What 
 were you desirous of? What were you wishing for? I am 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS. 253 
 
 pressing you too hard. The young man appears to be moved. 
 I will return to myself. I also was in arms in the same 
 camp. 
 
 IV. But what other object had we, O Tubero, except to be 
 able to do what this man can do now ? Shall, then, O Caesar, 
 the speech of those men spur you on to deeds of cruelty, whose 
 impunity is the great glory of your clemency? And in this 
 cause, in truth, O Tubero, I am somewhat at a loss to discern 
 your usual prudence, but much more so to see the sagacity of 
 your father, since that man, eminent both for genius and eru- 
 dition, did not perceive what sort of case this was. For if he 
 had perceived it, he would, I doubt not, have preferred that 
 you should conduct it in any manner in the world, rather than 
 as you did. 
 
 You are accusing one who confesses the facts which you 
 allege against him. That is not enough. You are accusing 
 
 CD O C? CD 
 
 one who has a case, as I say, better than your own, or, as 
 you yourself allow, at least as good as yours. This is strange 
 enough ; but what I am about to say is a perfect miracle. 
 That accusation of yours does not tend to the point of pro- 
 curing the condemnation of Quintus Ligarius, but of causing 
 his death. And this is an object which no Roman citizen 
 has ever pursued before you. That way of acting is quite 
 foreign. It is the hatred of fickle Greeks or of savage barba- 
 rians that is usually excited to the pitch of thirsting for blood. 
 For what else is your object? To prevent him from being 
 at Rome? To deprive him of his country? To hinder him 
 from living with his excellent brothers, with this Titus Broc- 
 chus, whom you see in court, his uncle, or with Brocchus's 
 ion, his cousin ? To prevent his appearing in his country ? 
 Is that it? Can he be more deprived of all these things than 
 he is already ? He is prevented from approaching Italy ; he 
 is banished. You, therefore, do not wish to deprive him of 
 his country, of which he already is deprived, but of his life. 
 
 But even in the time of that dictator who punished with 
 death every one whom he disliked, no one ever proceeded in 
 that manner to accomplish such an end. He himself ordered 
 men to be slain, without any one asking him ; he even invited 
 men to slay them by rewards ; and that cruelty of his was 
 avenged some years afterward by this self-same man whom 
 you now wish to become cruel ! 
 
 V. " But I am not asking for his death," you will say. 1 
 
254 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 think indeed that you do not intend to do so, O Tubero. For 
 I know you, I know your father, I know your birth and your 
 name, and the pursuits of your race and family ; your love of 
 virtue, and civilization, and learning ; your many admirable 
 qualities, — all are known to me. Therefore 1 know for a cer- 
 tainty that you are not thirsting for blood, but you give no 
 heed to the effect of your prosecution. For the transaction 
 has this tendency, to make you seem not contented with that 
 punishment under which Quintus Ligarius is at present suf- 
 fering. What further punishment then is there but death ? 
 For if he be in exile, as he is, what more do you require? 
 That he may never be pardoned? But this is much more 
 bitter and much harsher. That which we begged for at his 
 house with prayers and tears, throwing ourselves at his feet, 
 trusting not so much to the strength of our cause as to his 
 humanity, will you now struggle to prevent our obtaining? 
 Will you interrupt our weeping'? and will you forbid us to 
 speak, lying at his feet, with the voice of suppliants ? If, 
 when we were doing this at his house, as we did, and as I 
 hope we did not do in vain, you had all on a sudden burst in, 
 and had begun to cry out, " O Cains Caesar, beware how you 
 pardon, beware how you pity brothers entreating you for the 
 safety of their brother," would you not have renounced all 
 humanity by such conduct? How much harder is this, for 
 you to oppose in the forum what we begged of him in his own 
 house ! and while numbers are in this distress, to take away 
 from them the refuge which they might find in his clemency ! 
 
 I will speak plainly, O Caius Caesar, what I feel. If in this 
 splendid fortune of yours your lenity had not been as great as 
 you of your own accord — of your own accord, I say (I know 
 well what I am saying), make it, that victory of yours would 
 have been pregnant witjj the bitterest grief to the state. For 
 how many of the conquering party must have been found who 
 would have wished you to be cruel, when some of even the 
 conquered party are found to wish it ! how many who, wish- 
 ing no one to be pardoned by you, would have thrown obsta- 
 cles in the way of your clemency, when even those men whom 
 you yourself have pardoned are unwilling that you should be 
 merciful to others ! 
 
 But if we could prove to Caesar that Ligarius was actually 
 not in Africa at all, if we wished to save an unfortunate citi- 
 zen by an honorable and merciful falsehood ; still it would 
 
FOR Q LIGARIUS. 255 
 
 not be the act of a man, in a ease of such clanger and peril to 
 a fellow-citizen, to contradict and refute our falsehood ; and 
 if it were decent for any one to do so, it would certainly not 
 be so for one who had himself been in the same case and con- 
 dition. But, however, it is one thing to be unwilling that 
 Caesar should make a mistake, and another to be unwilling 
 that he should be merciful. Then you would say, " Beware, 
 O Caesar, of believing all this — Ligarius was in Africa. He 
 did bear arms against you." But now what is it that you 
 say? "Take care you do not pardon him." This is not the 
 language of a man ; but he who uses it to you, O Caius Cae- 
 sar, will find it an easier matter to abjure his own humanity 
 than to strip you of yours. 
 
 VI. And the first beginning, and the first proposition of 
 Tubero, I imagine, was this ; that he intended to speak of 
 the wickedness of Quintus Ligarius. I make no doubt that 
 you wondered how it was that no one made tins statement 
 respecting some one else, or how it was that he made it who 
 had been in the same condition himself, or what new crime it 
 was which he was bringing forward. Do you call that wick- 
 edness, Tubero '? "Why so 1 For that cause has not as yet 
 been attacked by that name. Some call it mistake ; some call 
 it fear ; those who give it a harder name term it hope, ambi- 
 tion, hatred, obstinacy ; those who use the hardest language 
 style it rashness. But up to this time no one except you has 
 ever called it wickedness. My own opinion is, if any one 
 seeks for a proper and accurate name for our misfortune, that 
 some disaster sent by destiny descended upon and occupied 
 the improvident minds of men ; so that no one ought to won- 
 der that human counsels were overruled by divine necessity. 
 
 Let it be allowed to us to be miserable, although that we 
 can not be when this man is our conqueror. But I am not 
 speaking of those who have perished. Grant that they were 
 ambitious, that they were angry, that they were obstinate men ; 
 but still let Cnaeus Pompeius, for he is dead, and let many 
 others w T ith him, be free from the imputation of wickedness, 
 of insanity, of parricide. When did any one hear such an ex- 
 pression from you, O Caius Caesar? or what other object did 
 your arms propose to themselves except the repelling insult 
 from yourself? What was it that was accomplished by that 
 invincible army of yours, beyond the preservation of its own 
 rights, and of your dignity ? What *? when you were anxious 
 
256 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 for peace, was it } r our object to be able to come to terms of 
 agreement with the wicked, or with the virtuous part of the 
 citizens ? To me, of a truth, O Caesar* your services toward 
 me, immense as they are, would certainly not appear so great, 
 if I thought that I had been preserved by you while you con- 
 sidered me a wicked man. And how could you possibly have 
 deserved well of the republic, if you had wished so many wick- 
 ed men to remain with all their dignity unimpaired? Orig- 
 inally, O Caesar, you considered that as a secession, not as a 
 declaration of war ; you considered it as a demonstration not 
 of hostile hatred, but of civil dissension, in which both parties 
 desired the safety of the republic, but some departed from 
 measures calculated for the general welfare out of an error of 
 judgment, and some out of party spirit. The dignity of the 
 leaders was nearly on a par ; but that of those who followed 
 them was perhaps not quite equal ; the justice of the cause, 
 too, was at that time doubtful, because there was something 
 on each side which deserved to be approved of; but now 
 that is unquestionably entitled to be thought the better cause 
 which even the gods assisted. But now that your clemency 
 is known, who is there who does not think well of that vic- 
 tory, in which no one has fallen except those who fell with 
 arms in their hands? 
 
 VII." But to say no more of the general question, let us 
 come to our own individual case. Which do you think was 
 easiest, O Tubero, for Ligarius to depart from Africa, or for 
 you to abstain from coming into Africa ? " Could we so ab- 
 stain," you will say, " after the senate had voted that we 
 should do so ?" If you ask me, I say, certainly not. But 
 L till the same senate had appointed Ligarius lieutenant. And 
 he obeyed them at a time when men were forced to obey tiie 
 senate ; but you obeyed at a time when no one obeyed them 
 who did not like it. Do I then find fault with you ? By no 
 means ; — for a man of your family, of your name, of your 
 race, of your hereditary principles, could not act otherwise. 
 But I do not grant" that you have a right to reprove in others 
 the very same conduct which you boast of in yourselves. 
 
 Tubero's lot was drawn in pursuance of a resolution of the 
 senate when he himself was not present, when he was even 
 hindered by sickness from being present. He had made up 
 his mind to excuse himself. 1 know all this from the great 
 intimacy which exists between Lucius Tubero and myself: 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS. 257 
 
 we were brought up together, in our campaigns we were 
 comrades, afterward we became connected by marriage, and 
 throughout the whole of our lives, in short, we have been 
 friends ; it has been, moreover, a great bond between us, that 
 we have been devoted to the same studies. I know, there- 
 fore, that Tubero wished to remain at home ; but there was 
 a person who contrived matters in such a way, who put forth 
 that most holy name of the republic so artfully, that even 
 had his sentiments been different from what they were, he 
 would not have been able to support the weight of his lan- 
 guage. He submitted to the authority of a most distinguished 
 man, or, I should rather say, he obeyed him. He went off at 
 the same time with those men who were already embarked in 
 the same cause, but he made his journey slower than they. 
 Therefore, he arrived in Africa when it was already occu- 
 pied ; and from this it is that the charge against Ligarius, or 
 rather the enmity against him, has its rise. For if it be a 
 crime in him to have wished to hinder you, it is a no less se- 
 rious one for you to have wished to obtain Africa, the citadel 
 of all the provinces, a land created for the purpose of waging 
 war against this city, than for somebody else to have preferred 
 obtaining it himself, — and that somebody was not Ligarius. 
 Varus kept saying, that he had the command there ; the fas- 
 ces he certainly had. But however the case, as to that part 
 of it, may be, what weight is there, O Tubero, in this com- 
 plaint of yours? "We were admitted into the province." 
 Well, suppose you had been admitted ? was it your object to 
 deliver it up to Caesar, or to hold it against Caesar ? 
 
 VIII. See, O Caesar, what license, or rather what audacity, 
 your liberality gives us. If Tubero replies that his father 
 would have given up to you that province to which the senate 
 and the lot which he drew had sent him, I will not hesitate 
 in severe language to reprove that design of his before you 
 yourself, to whose advantage it was that he should do" so. 
 For even if the action had been an acceptable one to you, it 
 would not have been thought an honest one by you. But, 
 however, all these topics I will pass over, not so much for fear 
 of offending your most patient ears, as because that I do not 
 wish that Tubero should appear to have been likely to do what 
 he never thought of. 
 
 You two came, then, into the province of Africa, — the 
 province of all others that was most hostile to the views of 
 
258 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this victorious party, in which there was a most powerful 
 king, an enemy to this cause, and in which the inclinations 
 of a large and powerful body of Roman settlers were entirely 
 adverse to it. I ask what you intended to do ! Though I do 
 not really doubt what you intended to do, when I see what 
 you have done. You were forbidden to set foot in your prov- 
 ince, and forbidden, as you state yourselves, with the greatest 
 insults. How did you bear that? To whom did you carry 
 your complaints of the insults which you had received ? Why, 
 to that man whose authority you had followed when you came 
 to join his party in the war. If it had been in Ca j sar's cause 
 that you were coming to the province, unquestionably, when 
 excluded from the province, it was to him that you would 
 have gone. But you came to Pompeius. What is the mean- 
 ing, then, of this complaint which you now urge before Caesar, 
 when you accuse that man by whom you complain that you 
 were prevented from waging war against Caesar? And as to 
 this part of the business you may boast, for all I care, even 
 though it will be falsely, that you would have given the prov- 
 ince up to Caesar, even if you had been forbidden by Varus, 
 and by some others. But I will confess that the fault was 
 all Ligarius's, who deprived you of an opportunity of acquiring 
 so much glory. 
 
 IX. But observe, I pray you, O Caius Caesar, the consist- 
 ency of that most accomplished man, Lucius Tubero, which 
 even though I thought as highly of it as I do, I still would 
 not mention, if I were not aware that that is a virtue which 
 you are in the habit of praising as much as any. Where, then, 
 was there ever an example of such great consistency in any 
 man? Consistency, do I say? I do not know whether I 
 might not more fitly call it patience. For how few men 
 would have acted in such a manner as to return to that same 
 party by which he had been rejected in a time of civil dissen- 
 sion, and rejected even with cruelty ! That is the act of a 
 great mind, and of a man whom no contumely, no violence, 
 and no danger can turn from a side which he has espoused, 
 and from an opinion which he has adopted. Grant that in 
 all other respects Tubero and Varus were on a par, as to 
 honor, that is, and nobleness of birth, and respectability, and 
 genius. — which, however, was by no means the ease; at all 
 events, Tubero had this great advantage, that he had come 
 to his own province with a legitimate command, in pur6U^ 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS. 259 
 
 mice of a resolution of the senate. When he was prevented 
 from entering it, he did not betake himself to Caesar, lest he 
 should appear to be in a passion, — he did not go home, lest 
 he should be thought inactive, — he did not go into any other 
 district, lest he might seem to condemn that cause which he 
 had espoused. He came into Macedonia to the camp of Cnaeus 
 Pompeius, to join that very party by whom he had been re- 
 pulsed with every circumstance of insult. 
 
 What ? when that affair had had no effect on the mind of 
 the man to whom you came, you behaved, after that, with a 
 more languid zeal, I suppose, in his cause ? You only staid 
 in some garrison ? But your affections were alienated from 
 his cause ? Or were we all, as is the case in a civil war, and 
 not more with respect to you two, than with respect to oth- 
 ers, — were we all wholly occupied with a desire of victory % 
 I, indeed, was at all times an advocate of peace, but that time 
 1 was too late. For it was the part of a madman to think 
 of peace when he saw the hostile army in battle array. We 
 all, every one of us, I say, were eager for victory ; you most 
 especially, as you had come into a place where you must inev- 
 itably perish if your side were not victorious. Although, as 
 the result now turns out, I make no doubt that you consider 
 your present safety preferable to what would have been the 
 consequences of victory. 
 
 X. I would not say these things, O Tubero, if you had 
 any reason to repent of your consistency, or Caesar of his 
 kindness. I ask now whether you are seeking to avenge 
 your own injuries, or those of the republic? If those of the 
 republic, what reply can you make with respect to your per- 
 severance in the cause of that other party? If your own, 
 take care that you are not making a great mistake in think- 
 ing that Caesar will be angry with your enemies, after he has 
 pardoned his own. 
 
 Do I, then, appear to you, O Caesar, to be occupied in the 
 cause of Ligarius 1 Do I appear to be speaking of his con- 
 duct ? In whatever I have said, I have endeavored to refer 
 eveiy thing to the leading idea of your humanity, or clemency, 
 or mercy, whichever may be its most proper name. I have, 
 indeed, O Caius Caesar, pleaded many causes with you, while 
 your pursuit of honors detained you in the forum ; but cer- 
 tainly I never pleaded in this way, " Pardon my client, O 
 judges ; he has erred, he has tripped, he did not think. * * * 
 
260 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 If ever hereafter * * *" This is the sort of way in which 
 one pleads with a parent ; to judges one says, " He never did 
 it, he never thought of it, the witnesses are false, the accusa- 
 tion is false." Say, O Caesar, that you are sitting as judge on 
 the conduct of Ligarius. Ask me in what garrisons he was. I 
 make no reply. 1 do not even adduce these arguments, which, 
 perhaps, might have weight even with a judge, — "He went as 
 a lieutenant before the war broke out ; he was left there in 
 time of peace ; he was overtaken by the war ; in the war it- 
 self he was not cruel ; he was in disposition and zeal wholly 
 yours." This is the way in which men are in the habit of 
 pleading before a judge. But I am addressing a parent. "I 
 have erred ; I have acted rashly ; I repent ; I flee to your 
 clemency ; I beg pardon for my fault ; I entreat you to par- 
 don me." If no one has gained such indulgence from you, it 
 is an arrogant address. But if many have, then do you give 
 us assistance who have already given us hope. Is it possible 
 that Ligarius should have no reason for hope, when I am al- 
 lowed to approach you even for the purpose of entreating 
 mercy for another? Although the hope which we entertain 
 in this cause does not rest upon this oration of mine, nor on 
 the zeal of those who entreat you for Ligarius, intimate friends 
 of your own. 
 
 XI. For I have seen and known what it was that you 
 mainly considered when many men were exerting themselves 
 for any one's safety ; I have seen that the causes of those who 
 were entreating you had more weight with you than the per- 
 sons of the advocates, and that you considered, not how much 
 the man who was entreating you was your friend, but how 
 much he was the friend of him for whom he was exerting 
 himself. Therefore, you grant your friends so many favors, 
 that they who enjoy your liberality appear to me sometimes to 
 be happier than you yourself who give them so much. But, 
 however, I see, as I said before, that the causes of those who 
 entreat your mercy have more weight with you than the en- 
 treaties themselves; and that you are most moved by those 
 men whose grief, which they display in their petitions to you, 
 is the most genuine. 
 
 In preserving Quintus Ligarius you will do what will be 
 acceptable to numbers of your intimate friends; but, I entreat 
 you, give weight to the considerations which are accustomed 
 to influence you. I can mention to you most brave men, 8a- 
 
FOR Q. LIGARIUS. 261 
 
 bines, men most highly esteemed by you ; and the whole of 
 the Sabine district, the flower of Italy and the chief strength 
 of the republic. You are well acquainted with the men. Ob- 
 serve the sadness and grief of all these men. You see vour- 
 self the tears and mourning attire of Titus Brocchus, who is 
 here present, and I am in no doubt as to what your opinion 
 of him is : you sec the grief of his son. Why need I speak of 
 the brothers of Ligarius ? Do not fancy, O Ca?sar, that we 
 are pleading for the life of one individual only. You must 
 either retain all three of the Ligarii in the city, or banish 
 them all three from the city. Any exile is more desirable 
 for them than their own country, their own house, and their 
 own household gods will be, if this their brother is banished 
 by himself. If they act as brothers should, — if they behave 
 with affection and with genuine grief, then let their tears, 
 their affection, and their relationship as brothers move you. 
 Let that expression of yours have weight now which gained 
 the victory; for we heard that you said that we thought all 
 men our enemies, but those who were with us ; but that you 
 considered all men as your friends who were not actually ar- 
 rayed against you. Do you see, then, this most respectable 
 band ; do you see the whole house of the Brocchi here pres- 
 ent, and Lucius Marcius, and Caius Caesetius, and Lucius Cor- 
 fidius, and all these Roman knights, who are present here in 
 mourning garments, — men who are not only well known to, 
 but highly esteemed by you ? They all were with you then ; 
 and we were full of anger against them, — we were attacking 
 them ; some even personally threatened them. Preserve, there- 
 fore, their friends to your friends ; so that, like every thing else 
 which has been said by you, this, too, may be found to be 
 Strictly true. 
 
 XII. But if you were able to look into the hearts of the 
 Ligarii, so as to see the perfect unanimity which subsists be- 
 tween them, you would think that all the brothers were on 
 your side. Can any one entertain a doubt that, if Quintus 
 Ligarius had been able to be in Italy, he would also have 
 adopted the same opinions as his brothers adopted % Who is 
 there who is not acquainted with the harmony existing be- 
 tween them, united and molten together, as I may say, by 
 their nearness of age to one another? Who does not feel 
 that any thing in the world was more likely than that these 
 brothers should adopt different opinions and embrace differ- 
 
262 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ent parties ! By inclination, therefore, they were all with you. 
 Owing to the necessity of the times, one was separated from 
 you ; but he, even if he had done what he did deliberately, 
 would still have been only like those men whom, neverthe- 
 less, you have shown yourself desirous to save. 
 
 However, grant that he went up of his own accord to the 
 war, and that he departed, not only from you, but also from 
 his brothers. These friends of your own entreat you to par- 
 don him. I, indeed, at the time when I was present at, and 
 mixed up in, all your affairs, remember well what was the be- 
 havior of Titus Ligarius at that time, when he was city quaes- 
 tor, with reference to you and your dignity. But it is of no 
 importance for me to remember this. I hope that you, too, 
 who are not in the habit of forgetting any thing, except the 
 injuries which have been done to you, since it is a part of your 
 character, a part of your natural disposition, to do so, while 
 you are thinking of the manner in which he conducted him- 
 self 1 in the discharge of his duty as quaestor, and while you 
 remember, too, how some other quaestors behaved,—-! hope, I 
 say, that you will also recollect this. 
 
 This Titus Ligarius, then, who had at that time no other 
 object except to induce you to think him attached to your 
 interests, and a virtuous man also (for he could never foresee 
 these present circumstances), now as a suppliant begs the safe- 
 ty of his brother from you. And when, urged by the recol- 
 lection of his devotion to you, you have granted that safety to 
 these men, you will by so doing have made a present of three 
 most. virtuous and upright brothers, not only to themselves, 
 nor to these men, numerous and respectable as they are, nor 
 to us who are their intimate friends, but also to the republic. 
 That, therefore, which in the case of that most noble and most 
 illustrious man, Marcus Marcellus, you lately did in the sen- 
 ate-house, do now also in the forum with respect to these most 
 virtuous brothers, who are so highly esteemed by all the crowd 
 
 ' There is some uncertainty as to what Cicero alludes to here. Most 
 of the commentators think that Ligarius must have been quaestor when 
 Metellus and the rest of his colleagues endeavored to prevent Ca?sar from 
 taking the money from the public treasury ; but Fabritius objects to this 
 view, that at that time Cicero had no connection with Caesar's affairs, 
 which is certainly true, while he says here that he had at the time that he 
 alludes to. He thinks, therefore, that Cicero is alluding to what took 
 place in the consulship of Lentulus and Philippus (the year af Cicero'* 
 recall), respecting the vote of pay to Caesar's army in Gaul. 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 263 
 
 here present. As you granted him to the senate, so grant this 
 man to the people, whose affections you have always consid- 
 ered most important to you. And if that day was one most 
 glorious to you, and at the same time most acceptable to the 
 Roman people, do not, I entreat you, — do not hesitate to earn 
 the praise of a glory like that as frequently as possible. 
 
 For there is nothing so calculated to win the affections of 
 the people as kindness. Of all your many virtues, there is 
 none more admirable, none more beloved than your mercy. 
 For there is no action by which men make a nearer approach 
 to the gods, than by conferring safety on others. Fortune has 
 no greater gifts for you than when it bestows on you the abil- 
 ity — nature has no better endowment for you than when it 
 bestows on you the will, to save as many people as possible. 
 The cause of my client, perhaps, requires a longer speech than 
 this : a shorter one would certainly be sufficient for a man of 
 your natural disposition. Wherefore, as I think it more de- 
 sirable for you to converse, as it were, with yourself, than for 
 me or any one else to be speaking to you, I shall now make 
 an end. This only will I remind you of, that if you do grant 
 this protection to him who is absent, you will be giving it also 
 to all these men who are here present. 
 
 THE SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO IN BEHALF OF KING 
 
 DEIOTARUS. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO CAIUS CAESAR. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 This speech, like those for Marcellus and Ligarius, was addressed to Cae- 
 sar. Deiotarus was king of Galatia, and during Cicero's pro-consul- 
 ship in Cilicia he had formed a friendship with him, and had been of 
 great assistance to him in his campaign against Pacorus and the Par. 
 thians. Having been an adherent of Pompey, he had already been de- 
 prived of a considerable part of his dominions by Caesar, and he was 
 now accused by his grandson, who was aware of Caesar's inveterate 
 dislike to him. of having formed a design against Caesar's life four 
 years before, when he entertained him in his palace on his return from 
 Egypt. It is probable that Caesar was aware of the groundlessness of 
 the charge, but countenanced it, and allowed it to be brought before 
 
264 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 him. in the hopes of finding a pretext for stripping the king of all the 
 
 rest of his dominions. 
 Brutus espoused Deiotarus's cause very warmly, and went toward Spain 
 
 to meet Caesar, and made him a most earnest address in favor of Dei- 
 
 otarus. 
 The present trial was held in Caesar's house, and Cicero proved the king's 
 
 innocence so completely, that he was unable to condemn him ; but, as 
 
 he would not acquit him, he adjourned the further consideration of the 
 
 matter till he himself could go into the East and investigate the affair 
 
 on the spot. 
 This speech was delivered in the year of Caesar's fourth consulship ; the 
 
 year before he was killed. 
 
 I. In all causes of more than ordinary importance, O Caius 
 Caesar, I am accustomed, at the beginning of my speech, to be 
 more vehemently affected than either common custom or my 
 own age appears to require. And in this particular cause I 
 am agitated by so many considerations, that in proportion as 
 my fidelity to my friend inspires me with zeal to defend the 
 safety of king Peiotarus, in the same proportion do my fears 
 take away from my ability to do so. In the first place, I am 
 speaking in defense of the life and fortunes of a king; and al- 
 though there is no particular injustice in such a fact, especial- 
 ly when it is one's self who is in danger, yet it is so unusual 
 for a king to be tried for his life, that up to this time no such 
 thing has ever been heard of. In the second place, I am com- 
 pelled now to defend against a most atrocious accusation that 
 very king whom I, in common willi all the senate, used for- 
 merly to extol on account of his uninterrupted services toward 
 our republic. There is this further consideration, that I am 
 disturbed by the cruelty of one of the prosecutors, and by the 
 umvorthy conduct of the other. 
 
 O cruel, not to say wicked and impious, Castor ! a grand- 
 son, who has brought his grandfather into danger of his life, 
 and has caused that man to dread his youth, whose old age he 
 was bound to defend and protect ; who has sought to recom- 
 mend his entrance into life to our favor by impiety and wick- 
 edness ; who has instigated his grandfather's slave, whom he 
 corrupted by bribes, to accuse his master, and has carried him 
 away from the feet of the king's embassadors. 
 
 But when I saw the countenance and heard the words of 
 this runaway slave, accusing his master, — his absent master, — 
 his master, who was a most devoted friend to our republic, — 
 I did not feel so much grief at the depressed condition of the 
 monarch himself, as fear for the general fortunes of every one. 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 265 
 
 For though, according to the usage of our ancestors, it is not 
 lawful to examine a slave as a witness against his master, not 
 even by torture, — in which mode of examination pain might, 
 perhaps, elicit the truth from a man even against his will, — 
 a slave has arisen, who, without any compulsion, accuses him 
 against whom he might not legally say a word even on the 
 rack. 
 
 II. This thing also, O Caius Caesar, at times disturbs me ; 
 which, however, I cease to fear when I come to a complete 
 recollection of your disposition. For in principle it is an un- 
 just thing, but by your wisdom it becomes a most just one. 
 For it is a serious business (if you consider the matter by 
 itself) to speak concerning a crime before that man against 
 whose life you are accused of having meditated that crime ; 
 for there is hardly any body w r ho, when he is a judge in any 
 matter in which his own safety is at stake, does not act with 
 more partiality toward himself than toward the accused per- 
 son ; but, O Caius Cassar, your admirable and extraordinary 
 natural virtue to a great extent releases me from this fear. 
 For I am not so much afraid -what you may wish to decide 
 with respect to king Deiotarus, as I am sure what you wish 
 to decide in all other cases. 
 
 I am affected, also, by the unusual circumstance of the trial 
 in this place ; because I am pleading so important a cause — 
 one, the fellow of which has never been brought under discus- 
 sion — within the walls of a private house ; I am pleading it 
 out of the hearing of any court or body of auditors, which are 
 a great support and encouragement to an orator. I rest on 
 nothing but your eyes, your person and countenance ; I behold 
 you alone ; the whole of my speech is necessarily confined to 
 you alone. And if those considerations are very important as 
 regards my hope of establishing the truth, they for all that are 
 impediments of the energy of my mind, and to the proper en- 
 thusiasm and ardor of speaking. 
 
 For if, O Caius Caesar, I were pleading this cause in the 
 forum, still having you for my auditor and my judge, with 
 w r hat great cheerfulness would the concourse of the Roman 
 people inspire me ! For what citizen would do otherwise 
 than favor that king, the whole of whose life he would rec- 
 ollect had been spent in the wars of the Roman people? I 
 should be beholding the senate-house, I should be surveying 
 the forum, I should call the heaven above me itself to witness ; 
 
 M 
 
2G6 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and so, while calling to mind the kindness of the immortal 
 gods, and of the Roman people, and of the senate to king De- 
 iotarus, it would be impossible for me to be at a loss for top- 
 ics or arguments for my speech. But since the walls of a 
 house narrow all these topics, and since the pleading of the 
 cause is greatly crippled by the place, it behooves you, O Caesar, 
 who have yourself often pleaded for many defendants, to con- 
 sider within yourself what my feelings at present must be ; so 
 that your justice, and also your careful attention in listening 
 to me, may the more easily lessen my natural agitation and 
 anxiety. 
 
 But before I say any thing about the accusation itself, I will 
 say a few words about the hopes entertained by the accusers. 
 For though they appear to be possessed of no great skill or ex- 
 perience in affairs, nevertheless they have never, surely, under- 
 taken this cause without some hope or other and some definite 
 design. 
 
 III. They were not ignorant that you were offended with 
 king Deiotarus. They recollected that he had been already 
 exposed to some inconvenience and loss on account of the dis- 
 pleasure with which you regarded him ; and while they knew 
 that you were angry with him, they had had proofs also that 
 you were friendly to them. And as they w r ould be speaking 
 before you of a matter involving personal danger to yourself, 
 they reckoned that a fictitious charge would easily lodge in 
 your mind, which was already sore. Wherefore, O Caius Cae- 
 sar, first of all by your good faith, and wisdom, and firmness, 
 and clemency deliver us from this fear, and prevent our sus^ 
 pecting that there is any ill temper lurking in you. I entreat 
 you by that right hand of yours which you pledged in token 
 of everlasting friendship to king Deiotarus ; by that right 
 hand, I say, which is not more trustworthy in wars or in bat- 
 tles than in promises and pledges of good faith. You have 
 chosen to enter his house, you have chosen to renew with him 
 the ancient ties of friendship and hospitality. His household 
 gods have received you under their protection ; the altars and 
 hearths of king Deiotarus have beheld you at peace with and 
 friendly toward him. 
 
 You are accustomed, O Caius Caesar, not only to be pre- 
 vailed upon by entreaties easily, but to be prevailed on once 
 for all. No enemy has ever been reconciled to you who has 
 found any remnant of hostility remaining in your breast after- 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 267 
 
 ward. Although, who is there who has not heard of your 
 complaints against king Deiotarus ? You have never accused 
 him as being an enemy to you, but as being a friend very slack 
 in his duty ; because his inclination led him more to friend- 
 ships with Cnseus Pompeius than with you. And yet that 
 very fact you said that you would have pardoned, if when he 
 gent reinforcements and even his son to Pompeius, he had him- 
 self availed himself of the excuse furnished him by his age. 
 And in this way, while you were acquitting him of the most 
 important charges, you left behind only the little blame of his 
 friendship for another. Therefore, you not only abstained 
 from punishing him, but you released him from all apprehen- 
 sion ; you acknowledged him as your friend, you left him king. 
 And, indeed, his proceedings were not dictated by any hatred 
 of you ; he fell by the general error of us all. That king, 
 whom the senate had repeatedly addressed by this name, using 
 it in decrees most complimentary to him, and who from his 
 youth up had always considered that, order most important 
 and most sacred, being a man living at a great distance, and 
 a foreigner by birth, was perplexed by the same affairs which 
 embarrassed us who were born and who at all times had lived 
 in the middle of the republic. 
 
 IV. When he heard that men had taken arms by the au- 
 thority of the senate, acting with great unanimity ; that the 
 defense of the republic had been intrusted to the consuls, the 
 praetors, the tribunes of the people, and to all of us who had 
 received the title of Imperator, he was agitated in his mind, 
 and being a man most deeply attached to this empire, he be- 
 came alarmed for the safety of the Eoman people, in which 
 also he considered that his own was bound up. And being 
 in a state of the greatest alarm, he thought it best to remain 
 quiet himself. But he w r as beyond measure agitated when he 
 heard that the consuls had fled from Italy, and all the men of 
 consular rank (for so it was reported) with them, and all the 
 senate, and that the whole of Italy was emptied. For the 
 road was wide open for all such messengers and reports to 
 travel to the East, and no true accounts followed. He never 
 heard a word of the conditions which you offered, nor of your 
 eagerness for concord and peace, nor of the way in w r hich cer- 
 tain men conspired against your dignity. And though this 
 was the state of things, still he continued quiet until embassa- 
 dors and letters came to him from Cnseus Pompeius. Pardon 
 
268 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Deiotarus, pardon him, I entreat you, O Csesar, if he, though 
 a king, yielded to the authority of that man whom we all fol- 
 lowed, and on whom both gods and men had heaped every 
 sort of distinction, and on whom you yourself had conferred 
 the most numerous and most important honors 1 of all. Nor, 
 indeed, does it follow that, because your exploits have thrown 
 a cloud over the praises of others, we have, therefore, entire- 
 ly lost all recollection of Cnasus Pompeius. Who is there who 
 is ignorant how great the name of that man was, how great 
 his influence, how great his renown in every description of 
 war, how great were the honors paid him by the Roman peo- 
 ple, and by the senate, and by you yourself? He had sur- 
 passed all his predecessors in glory as much as you have sur- 
 passed all the world. Therefore, we used to count up with 
 admiration the wars and the victories, and the triumphs, and 
 the consulships, of Cnaeus Pompeius. But yours we are wholly 
 unable to reckon. 
 
 V. To him then came king Deiotarus in this miserable and 
 fatal war, to him whom he had previously assisted in his reg- 
 ular wars against the enemies of Rome, and with whom he 
 was bound, not only by ties of hospitality, but also by person- 
 al intimacy. And he came, either because he had been asked, 
 as a friend ; or because he had been sent for as an ally ; or 
 because he had been summoned, like one who had learned to 
 obey the senate ; and last of all, he came as to a man flying, 
 not to one pursuing others — that is to say, as a sharer of dan- 
 ger, not a partner in victory. 
 
 Therefore, after the result of the battle of Pharsalia, he de- 
 parted from Pompeius ; he did not choose to persist in hopes of 
 which he saw no end. He thought he had done quite enough 
 to satisfy the claims of duty, if indeed he was under any such 
 obligations, and that he had made quite mistake enough if he 
 had ignorantly erred. He returned home ; and all the time 
 that you were engaged in the Alexandrian war, he consulted 
 your interests. He supported in his palaces and from his own 
 resources the army of Cnaeus Domitius, that most distinguish- 
 ed man. He sent money to Ephesus to him whom you select- 
 ed as the most faithful and most highly esteemed of all your 
 friends. He gave him money a second time ; he gave him 
 money a third time for you to employ in the war, though he 
 was forced to sell property by auction in order to raise it. He 
 1 For Caesar had given Potnpey his daughter in marriage. 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 269 
 
 exposed his own person to danger, and he was with yon, serv- 
 ing in your army againt Pharnaces, and he considered nim as 
 his own enemy because lie was yours. And all those actions 
 of his were accepted by you, O Cams Caesar, in such a spirit 
 that you paid him the highest possible honors, and confirmed 
 him in the dignity and title of kino;. 
 
 He, therefore, having been not onlv released from danger 
 by you, but having been also distinguished by you with the 
 highest honors, is now accused of having intended to assassin- 
 ate you in his own house — a thing which you can not in truth 
 possibly suspect, unless you consider him to have been utterly 
 mad. For, to say nothing of what a deed of enormous wick- 
 edness it would have been to assassinate his guest in the sight 
 of his own household gods ; what a deed of enormous unrea- 
 sonableness it would have been to have extinguished the bright- 
 est light of all nations, and of all human recollection ; what a 
 deed of enormous ferocity it would have been to have had no 
 dread of the conqueror of the whole earth ; what a sign of an 
 inhuman and ungrateful disposition it would have been to be 
 found to behave like a despot to the very man by whom he 
 had been addressed as a king; — to say nothing of all this, 
 what a deed of utter phrensy would it have been to rouse all 
 kings, of whom there were numbers on the borders of his 
 own kingdom, all free nations, all the allies, all the provinces, 
 all the arms, in short, of every people on earth against himself 
 alone ! To what misery would he not have exposed his king- 
 dom, his house, his wife, and his beloved son, not merely by 
 the accomplishment of such a crime, but even by the bare idea 
 of it! 
 
 VI. But I suppose that improvident and rash man did not 
 see all this ! On the contrarv. who is a more considerate man 
 than he? Who is more secret in his plans'? Who is more 
 prudent? Although in this place it is not so much on the 
 ground of cleverness and prudence that it seems to me that I 
 should defend Deiotarus, as on that of good faith and religious 
 feeling and conduct. You are well acquainted, O Caius Cae- 
 sar, with the honesty of the man, with his virtuous habits, 
 with his wisdom and firmness. Indeed, who is there who has 
 ever heard of the name of the Roman people, who has not 
 heard also of the integrity, and wisdom, and virtue, and good 
 faith of Deiotarus % A crime, then, that can not be imputed 
 to an imprudent man, on account of his fear of instant dc- 
 
270 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 struction, nor to an unscrupulous man, unless he be at the 
 same time utterly insane ; will you pretend that such a crime 
 was thought of by a most virtuous man, and one too who was 
 never accounted a fool? 
 
 And in what a way do you try and support this invention ! 
 in a way not only not calculated to win belief, but not even 
 such as to give rise to the least suspicion. AVhen, says the 
 prosecutor, you had come to the Luceian fort, and had turned 
 aside to the palace of the king your entertainer, there was a 
 certain place where all those things were arranged which the 
 king had settled to offer you as presents. To this place he 
 intended to conduct you on coming out of the bath, before 
 you lay down ; for there were armed men stationed in that 
 very place on purpose to kill you. This is the charge ; this 
 is the reason why a runaway should accuse a monarch, a slave 
 accuse his master ! I, in truth, O Caius Ca?sar, at the very 
 beginning, when the cause was originally laid before me, was 
 struck with a suspicion that Phidippus the physician, one of 
 the king's slaves, who had been sent with the embassadors, 
 had been corrupted by that young man. He has suborned 
 the physician to act as informer, thought I ; he will be sure 
 to invent some accusation of poisoning. Although my con- 
 jecture was some way from the exact truth, it was not much 
 out as to the general principle of the accusation. What says 
 the physician'? Not a word about poison. But in the first 
 place, that might have been administered much more secretly 
 in a potion or in food ; in the second place, a crime is com- 
 mitted in that way with greater impunity, because when it 
 has been done, it can be denied. If he had assassinated you 
 openly, he would have brought upon himself not only the ha- 
 tred of all nations, but their arms also. If he had slain you 
 by poison, to be sure he never would have been able to conceal 
 the action from the divine wrath of the Jupiter who presides 
 over hospitality, but he might perhaps have concealed it from 
 men. Are we, then, to suppose that that which he might 
 have attempted in secret, and have executed with great cau- 
 tion, he never intrusted to you who were a skillful physician, 
 and, as he believed, a faithful servant, and yet that lie could 
 conceal nothing from you with respect to arms, and blood, 
 and ambuscade'? And how cleverly is the whole accusation 
 worked up ! It was your own good fortune, says he, that 
 fortune which always preserves you, which saved you then. 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 271 
 
 You said that you did not wish at that moment to see the 
 presents. 
 
 VII. What happened afterward? Did Deiotarus, after he 
 had failed in accomplishing the business at that time, at once 
 dismiss his army? was there no other place where he could 
 set an ambush ? But you said that when you had supped you 
 would come back again the same way ; and you did so. Was 
 it a very difficult job to detain the armed men one or two 
 hours in the place where they had been stationed? After 
 you had spent your time at the banquet courteously and mer- 
 rily, then you went back that way, as you had said ; and then 
 and there you found that the behavior of Deiotarus to you re- 
 sembled that of king Attalus to Publius African us : to whom, 
 as we have read, he sent the most magnificent gifts from Asia 
 to Numantia ; which Africanus accepted in the sight of all his 
 army. And when Deiotarus, being present with you, had done 
 all this in a kingly spirit and with royal courtesy, you depart- 
 ed to your chamber. I entreat you, O Caesar, trace back your 
 recollection of that time, bring that day back before your eyes, 
 remember the countenances of the men who were then gazing 
 on you and admiring yon ; was there any trepidation among 
 them ! any disorder ! Was any thing done except in an or- 
 derly and quiet manner, — except as became the establishment 
 of a dignified and honorable man ? What reason then can be 
 imagined whv he should have intended to murder vou after 
 you had bathed, and why he should not have chosen to do so 
 after you had supped? "Oh, he put it off," says the prose- 
 cutor, " till the next day, in order that when he arrived at the 
 Luceian fort, he might there put his designs in execution." I do 
 not understand the eifect of his changing the place ; but still 
 the whole case was conducted in an incriminatory manner. 
 "When," says the prosecutor, " you said after supper that you 
 wished to vomit, they began to lead you to the bath-room ; 
 for that was the place where the ambuscade was; but still that 
 same fortune of yours saved you ; you said that you had rath- 
 er go to your bedroom." Alay the gods forgive you, you 
 runaway slave ! Are you so utterly, not only worthless and 
 infamous, but also stupid and senseless? What? were they 
 brazen statues that he had planted in ambush, so that they 
 could not be moved from the bath-room to the bed-chamber? 
 Here you have the whole charge as to the ambuscade : for 
 he said nothing further. " In all this," says he, "I was his 
 
272 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 accomplice." "What do you mean ? Was he so demented as 
 to allow a man to leave him who was privy to so enormous a 
 wickedness ! As even to send him to Rome, where he knew 
 his grandson was, who was most bitterly hostile to him, and 
 where Cuius Cassar was, against whom he had laid this plot? 
 especially when he was the only man who could give any 
 information against him in his absence. " My brothers too," 
 says he, " because they also were privy to it, he threw into 
 prison." When, then, he was putting those men in prison 
 whom he had with him, did he leave you at large and send 
 you to Home, — you who knew the very same facts which you 
 say that they knew? 
 
 YIII. The remainder of the accusation was of a two-fold 
 character ; one part of which was, that the king was always 
 at his watch-tower because he was so disaffected to your in- 
 terests; the other, that he had levied a large army against 
 you. As to the army, I will reply to that charge in a very 
 few words, as I will to the rest of the charges. King Deiotarus 
 never had any forces with which he could have made war upon 
 the Roman people ; but only just sufficient to protect his own 
 territories from the incursions of enemies, and to send rein- 
 forcements to our generals. And before this time he was able 
 to maintain a larger force than he can now ; at present he can 
 with difficulty keep up a very small one. "Oh, but he sent to 
 Caecilius; I don't know who it was he sent, but he threw those 
 whom he sent, or rather ordered to go, into prison, because 
 they would not go." I do not stop to ask how far it is proba- 
 ble that a king should have had no one to send ; or that those 
 whom he ordered to go should not have obeyed him ; or how 
 it was that those men who refused obedience in so important 
 an affair, were put in prison, and not executed ; but still, when 
 he was sending to Caecilius, 1 was he ignorant that that party 
 had been defeated, or did he think that Ca?cilius a person of 
 great importance ? a man whom he, who was well acquainted 
 with our leading men, would have despised because he knew 
 him, and just as much because he did not know him. He 
 added, also, that he did not send his best cavalry ; — I dare 
 say, they were old troops, O Caesar : nothing to your cavalry; 
 
 1 This was Quintius Caecilius Brassus, a zealous partisan of Pompey's. 
 who after the battle of Pharsalia collected some of the remnants of his 
 army in Syria, with which he afterward joined Cassius after the death 
 of Caesar. 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 273 
 
 but still they were the best men he had, his picked men. He 
 says, that one of the body was recognized as being a slave; — I 
 do not believe it ; I never heard of it. But still, even if such 
 a thing had happened, I should not conceive that that was any 
 fault of the king's. 
 
 IX. " He was very ill-disposed toward you." How so ? 
 He hoped, I suppose, that you would find it difficult to get 
 out of Alexandria, on account of the nature of the country 
 and of the river. But, at that very time, he supplied you 
 with money, and with provisions for your army ; he co-oper- 
 ated to the utmost of his power with the officer to whom you 
 had given command in Asia; he assisted you when victori- 
 ous, not only in the way of affording you hospitality, but 
 with you he encountered danger, and stood by your side in 
 the array of battle. 
 
 The African war followed : there were unfavorable reports 
 spread about you, which also roused that frantic Cascilius. 
 What on that occasion was the disposition evinced toward 
 you by the king? He sold property by auction, and pre- 
 ferred stripping himself, to not supplying you with money. 
 "But," says the prosecutor, "at that very time he was send- 
 ing men to Nicaea, and to Ephesus, to catch every report that 
 came from Africa, and to bring it to him with all speed." 
 Therefore, when news came that Domitius had perished by 
 shipwreck, and that you were blockaded in some fortress, he 
 quoted a Greek verse with reference to Domitius, having the 
 same meaning as that of our poet : 
 
 "So can we well afford to lose our friends, 
 If our foes perish in the same destruction:" 1 
 
 an expression which he would never have uttered had he been 
 ever so much an enemy to you. For he himself is a man of 
 a humane disposition ; and that verse is a savage one. Be- 
 sides, how could a man be a friend to Domitius, who was an 
 enemy to you*? Moreover, why should he be an enemy to 
 you, by whom he might even have been put to death accord- 
 ing to the laws of war, and by whom he recollected that he 
 and his son had been appointed kings'? 
 
 What is the next statement I What is the next step taken 
 by this scoundrel ? He says that Deiotarus was so elated at 
 
 1 The Greek proverb is given by Plutarch as tfifieTu (pi?.og obv Ix^PV- 
 If the Latin iambic quoted by Cicero comes from any Latin poet, it U 
 not known who he was. 
 
 M2 
 
274 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this, that he drowned his joy in wine, and danced naked at a 
 banquet. What cross is there that could be a sufficient pun- 
 ishment for this slave ? Did any one ever see Deiotarus dan- 
 cings — did any one ever see him drunk ? All kingly virtues 
 are united in that man, and that I think yourself are well 
 aware of, O Caesar ; but most especially is that singular and 
 admirable economy of his conspicuous. Although this is an 
 attribute for which I know that it is not usual to praise kings. 
 To say that a man is economical is not much praise for a 
 king. To be brave, just, severe, dignified, magnanimous, open- 
 handed, beneficent, liberal, — these are the praises suited to a 
 king. Economy is a virtue for a private individual. Let 
 every one take it as he pleases: but I consider economy — 
 that is to say, moderation and temperance — the very greatest 
 of virtues. And this existed in this man from his earliest 
 youth, and was experienced by, and known to, all Asia, and 
 by all our magistrates and embassadors, and by all the Ro- 
 man knights who trafficked in Asia. 
 
 It was by many successive steps of dutiful service toward 
 our republic that he arrived at this title of king; but still, 
 whatever leisure he had from the wars of the Roman people, 
 he devoted entirely to cultivating friendship and intimacy 
 with our citizens, and to uniting his affairs and interests to 
 theirs. So that he was not only considered a noble tetrarch, 
 but also an excellent father of a family, and a most indus- 
 trious farmer and grazier. Did he, then, who, while a young 
 man, before he had arrived at his subsequent high rank, nev- 
 er did any thing that was inconsistent with the most rigid 
 virtue and the greatest dignity, after he had raised to him- 
 self the esteem in which he is now held, and when he had be- 
 come of so advanced an age, did he dance ? 
 
 X. You ought, O Castor, rather to imitate the manner 
 and principles of your grandfather, than calumniate a most 
 virtuous and most illustrious man with the language of a run- 
 away slave. Even if you had had a grandfather who was a 
 dancer, and not a man from whom examples of modesty and 
 chastity might be deprived, still this reproach is one which is 
 very little suited to your age. Those pursuits to which he 
 had been habituated from his earliest age — not dancing, but 
 such as would train him to wield his arms and manage his 
 horses in the best manner, — those all had now failed him at 
 his advanced time of life ; so that we used to wonder, when 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 275 
 
 several men had lifted Deiotarus on his horse, how so old a 
 man as he could contrive to stick on. But this youn<r man, 
 who was a soldier of mine in Cilicia, and a comrade of mine 
 in Greece, how was he used to ride about in that army of 
 ours, with his own picked body of cavalry, whom his father 
 had sent with him to join Pompeius ! what gallops he used 
 to take! how he used to display his skill! What a parade 
 he used to make ! How did he refuse to yield to any one in 
 his zeal and eagerness for the success of that cause ! But 
 even after the army was lost, I, who had at all times been an 
 adviser of peace, but who, after the battle of Pharsalia, urged 
 every one not to lay aside, but to throw away their arms, 
 could never bring this young man to adopt my advice, both 
 because of his own eagerness for that war, and because he 
 thought himself bound to satisfy the expectations of his father. 
 
 Happy is that house which has obtained, not only impuni- 
 ty, but license to accuse others ! Unfortunate Deiotarus, who 
 is not only accused by one who was in the same camp with 
 him, before you, but who is impeached even by his own rela- 
 tions. Can not you, O Castor, be content with your own 
 good fortune without bringing misery on your relations % 
 
 XI. Grant that there may be enmity between you ; which, 
 however, there ought not to be; for it was king Deiotarus 
 who raised your family, when abject and obscure, from dark- 
 ness into light. Who ever heard of your father, or who he 
 was, before they heard whose son-in-law he was? But even 
 supposing you repudiated the name of the connection with 
 ever so much ingratitude and impiety, still you might have 
 conducted your quarrel like a man, and not pursue him with 
 a false accusation, not seek his life, not prosecute him on a 
 capital charge. Be it so : — let even this excess of bitterness 
 and hatred be permitted. "Was it to go to such an extent, 
 that all the laws of ordinary life and of common safety, and 
 even of humanity, are to be violated 1 to tamper with slaves 
 by words, to corrupt them by hopes and promises ; to lead 
 them away to your own house, to arm them against their 
 masters, to wage an impious war not against one relation, 
 but against every family in the world f For that corruption 
 of slaves, if it be not only unpunished, but even approved by 
 such a great authority as that of this tribunal, no walls, no 
 laws, no rights will be sufficient for the protection of our 
 safetv. For when that which is in our houses and is our own 
 
276 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 can sally out with impunity and fight against us, slavery then 
 gets the mastery, and the master's position is slavery. 
 
 Shame on the times, and on our present habits ! That 
 Cnseus Domitius, whom we as boys saAv consul, and censor, 
 and chief pontiff, when, as tribune of the people, he had im- 
 peached Marcus Scaurus, the chief man of the state, before 
 the people, and when a slave of Scaurus had come secretly to 
 him at his own house, and had offered to give information 
 with respect to charges which might be brought against his 
 master, ordered the slave to be apprehended, and taken to 
 Scaurus. See what a difference there is now, — although it is 
 a shame of me to compare Castor to Domitius ; still, he sent 
 his slave back to his enemy, you have seduced one from your 
 grandfather; he refused to listen to one though he had not 
 been bribed, you have bribed one ; he rejected a slave as his 
 assistant against his master, you have employed one even as 
 an accuser. But was it only once that that fellow was cor- 
 rupted by you ? Did he not escape back again to the embas- 
 sadors after he had been brought forward by you, and after 
 he had been with you % Did he not even come to this Cnaeus 
 Domitius? Did not he, in the hearing of this Servius Sul- 
 picius, that most illustrious man, who is present here, and of 
 this Titus Torquatus, a most virtuous young man, who is also 
 present, confess that he had been bribed by you, and that it 
 was by your promises that he had been instigated to this dis- 
 honesty % 
 
 XII. What then is the object of this shameless, and bar- 
 barous, and unrestrained inhumanity? Was it for this that 
 you came into this city, that you might corrupt the princi- 
 ples predominant in, and the examples furnished by this city, 
 and that you might pollute the humanity of our state by your 
 own private ferocity? 
 
 And how ingeniously have all your charges been collected ! 
 Blesamius, says he (for it was in his name, a very excellent 
 man, and one who was a stranger to you, that he was calum- 
 niating you, O Deiotarus), used to write to the king, that you, 
 O Ca3sar, were very unpopular ; that you were considered a 
 tyrant ; that men were exceedingly offended at your statue 
 having been placed among those of the kings ; that you wire 
 never well received on your appearance in public. Do not 
 you perceive, O Caesar, that these statements were collected 
 by these fellows, from the city conversation of spiteful men 1 
 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 27? 
 
 Could Blesamius have written to say that Caesar was a ty- 
 rant? Ay, for he had seen the heads of many citizens ex- 
 posed; he had seen many men by the orders of Caesar ill- 
 treated, scourged and executed ; he had seen many houses pil- 
 laged and destroyed ; he had seen the forum filled with armed 
 troops! — No; those things which previously we always have 
 felt after victories in civil war, we have not seen now, when 
 you have been our conqueror. You are the only man — you 
 I say, O Caius Caasar, are the only man, by whose victory no 
 one has perished except with arms in his hand. And can 
 the man whom we, free men, born in the enjoyment of the 
 perfect liberty of the Roman people, consider not only no ty- 
 rant, but as even the most merciful man possible in the use 
 of victory, can he appear a tyrant to Blesamius, who is liv- 
 ing under a king? For who complains about a statue, es- 
 pecially about one single statue, when he sees such a num- 
 ber ? Great reason have we, indeed, to envy a man his stat- 
 ues, when we do not grudge him trophies ; for if it be the 
 place which provokes envy, surely there is no place more open 
 and fit for a statue than the rostra. And as to the way in 
 which he is received in public, why need I make any reply 
 at all ? for public applause has never been desired by you, 
 and sometimes, owing to the amazement with which men 
 have viewed your achievements, it has even been stifled by 
 the excess of their admiration ; and perhaps, too, it has been 
 omitted because nothing vulgar could possibly appear worthy 
 of you. 
 
 XIII. I do not think that any thing has been omitted by 
 me ; but some topics have been reserved for the end of my 
 speech, and they are of such a nature that they ought to rec- 
 oncile you cordially to Deiotarus — for I am not now afraid of 
 your being angry with him ; I am apprehensive rather of your 
 suspecting that he harbors some resentment against you. And 
 that suspicion, believe me, O Caesar, is as remote as possible 
 from the truth. For he recollects only what he still has left 
 owing to you, and not what he has lost by your means ; nor 
 does he consider that he has been deprived of any thing by 
 you, but, being aware that it was necessary for you to give 
 many rewards to many people, he did not think it hard that 
 you should take something from him who had been on the 
 other side. In truth, if that great prince, Antiochus the Great, 
 the king of Asia, who, after he had been conquered by Scipio, 
 
278 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 was ordered to consider Mount Taurus as the boundary of his 
 dominions, and was deprived of all this Asia which is now a 
 province of our own, — if he was accustomed to say that he 
 had been kindly treated by the Roman people, because he had 
 been released by them from the care of an overgrown empire, 
 and was now at liberty to enjoy a kingdom of moderate ex- 
 tent, Deiotarus can comfort himself more easily. For Anti- 
 ochus had suffered a chastisement for his insanity, my client 
 only for an error. You, O Ca?sar, gave every thing to Dei- 
 otarus when you gave him and his son the title of King ; and 
 as long as he is allowed to retain and preserve this title, he 
 does not think that the kindness of the Roman people is at 
 all diminished, or that the senate has come to any unfavora- 
 ble decision respecting him. He preserves a great and lofty 
 spirit, and will never succumb to his enemies, nor even to 
 fortune. 
 
 He thinks that by his previous conduct he has given birth 
 to much, and that by his own courage and virtue he still has 
 much which he can not possibly be deprived of. For what 
 fortune, or what accident, or what injury can happen to Dei- 
 otarus of such severity as to efface the decrees of all our gen- 
 erals respecting him 1 For he has been complimented and dis- 
 tinguished ever since he was of an age to serve in their camps, 
 by all those men who have had the conduct of our wars in 
 Asia, and in Cappadocia, and in Pontus, and in Cilicia, and 
 in Syria. And what length of time will ever efface, what for- 
 getfulness will ever obliterate those numerous and honorable 
 resolutions of the senate respecting him, which have been re- 
 corded in the public writings and memorials of the Roman 
 people ? 
 
 "Why need I speak of his valor ? why of his greatness of 
 mind? of his wisdom"? of his firmness and consistency? quali- 
 ties which not only have all wise and learned men pronounced 
 to be the greatest blessings, but which some have even consid- 
 ered the only real ones, and have said that virtue wanted no- 
 thing more than these for the purpose of living not only well, 
 but even happily. He, considering these things, and reflect- 
 ing on them day and night, is so far from feeling resentment 
 against } r ou (for he would not only be ungrateful, but even 
 mad to do so), that he attributes the whole of the tranquillity 
 and quiet of his old age which he enjoys, to your clemency. 
 
 XXV. And as these were his sentiments previously, I do 
 
FOR KING DEIOTARUS. 279 
 
 not doubt also that after the receipt of jour letters, of which 
 I have read a copy, which you gave to this Blesamius at Tar- 
 raco for Deiotarus, his spirit became loftier still, and that he 
 ceased to feel any anxiety whatever. For in them you bid 
 him entertain good hopes, and to be of good courage — expres- 
 sions which I know you are not in the habit of using without 
 a meaning ; for I recollect that you wrote to me in almost the 
 same language, and that when you bade me entertain good 
 hopes of the future you were not deceiving me. 
 
 I am anxious, indeed, in this cause of King Deiotarus, with 
 whom the affairs of this republic have united me in friend- 
 ship, while our mutual regard for one another has connected 
 us by ties of hospitality, with whom long acquaintance has 
 engendered intimacy, and his great services to me and to my 
 army have wrought in me the greatest affection for him. But 
 while I am anxious about him, I am anxious also about many 
 most distinguished men, who have been pardoned by you, and 
 who ought to be able to consider their pardon, whenever pro- 
 nounced, as binding forever ; and who ought not to feel that a 
 doubt is thrown on the permanency of your kindness to them, 
 nor to have a perpetual anxiety implanted in their minds ; 
 nor, in short, ought it to be allowed to happen that any one 
 of those men should begin again to feel apprehension, who has 
 once been released by you from fear. 
 
 I ought not, O Caesar, to endeavor, as is often done by men 
 in such danger as this, to move your pity by my language. 
 There is no need of my doing so. Your feelings are of their 
 own accord accustomed to come to the aid of the suppliant 
 and unfortunate, without being elicited by the eloquence of 
 any body. Place before your eyes two kings, and contem- 
 plate with your mind what you can not behold with your 
 eyes. You will surely yield to your feelings of compassion 
 what you refused to your resentment. There are many mon- 
 uments of your clemency, but the chief, sure, are the secure 
 happiness of those men to whom it is you have been the au- 
 thor of safety. And if such an action is glorious in the case 
 of a private individual, much more will it be celebrated when 
 it is a king who is the object of it. The title of King has al- 
 ways been accounted a holy name in this city ; but the names 
 of ally and king, when united together, are then the holiest of 
 all titles. 
 
 XV. And these kings were afraid that if you were victori- 
 
280 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ous they might lose that name. But now that they have 
 been allowed to retain it, and have been confirmed in it by 
 you, I confidently trust that they will even transmit it to 
 their posterity Moreover, these embassadors whom you see 
 before you, Ilieras, and Blesamius, and Antigonus, men with 
 whom you and all of us have long been acquainted, and also 
 Porylaus, a man of the same loyalty and virtue as they, who 
 was lately sent as embassador to you in company with Ilie- 
 ras, devoted friends of the king, and men too who, as I hope, 
 are highly esteemed by you, offer you their persons as hos- 
 tages and pledges to secure the safety of their prince. Ask 
 Blesamius whether he ever wrote any thing to the king to the 
 disparagement of your dignity. Hieras, indeed, undertakes 
 the whole cause of Deiotarus, and offers himself as the defend- 
 ant against all these charges in behalf of, and instead of the 
 king. lie implores the aid of your recollection in his favor; 
 a quality in which you greatly excel : he declares that all the 
 time that you were in the tetrarchy of Deiotarus he never 
 left your side. He says that he met you on the frontier, and 
 that he attended you to the borders on the opposite side of 
 the country ; that when you left the bath he was with you, 
 and when you surveyed all those presents after supper, and 
 when you retired to rest in your bed-chamber. And he says, 
 too, that he attended you in the same unremitting manner all 
 the next day. 
 
 Wherefore, if any one of those things which Deiotarus has 
 been accused of, really was thought of, he does not object to 
 your thinking the crime his. I entreat you, O Caius Caesar, 
 to consider that on this day your sentence will bring on those 
 kings either most miserable calamity, accompanied with infi- 
 nite disgrace, or an unsullied reputation attended with safety ; 
 and to desire the one of those results would be an act of cru- 
 elty, to secure the other is an action suitable to your clem- 
 ency. 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 281 
 
 THE FOURTEEN ORATIONS OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS, CALLED PHILIPPICS. 
 
 THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 When Julius, or, as he is usually called by Cicero, Caius Caesar was slain 
 on the 15th of March, a.u.c. 710, b.c 44, Marcus Antonius was his 
 colleague in the consulship; and he, being afraid that the conspirators 
 might murder him too (and it is said that they had debated amonu 
 themselves whether they would or no), concealed himself on that da\° 
 and fortified his house ; till perceiving that nothing was intended 
 against him, he ventured to appear in public the day following. Le- 
 pidus was in the suburbs of Rome with a regular army, ready to de- 
 part for the government of Spain, which had been assigned to him with 
 a part of Gaul. In the night, after Caesar's death, he occupied the fo- 
 rum with his troops, and thought of making himself master of the city, 
 but Antonius dissuaded him from that idea, and won him over to his 
 views by giving his daughter in marriage to Lepidus's son, and by as- 
 sisting him to seize on the office of Pontifex Maximus, which was va- 
 cant by Caesar's death. 
 
 To the conspirators he professed friendship, sent his son among them as 
 a hostage of his sincerity, and so deluded them, that Brutus supped 
 with Lepidus, and Cassius with Antonius. By these means he got 
 them to consent to his passing a decree for the confirmation of all 
 Caesar's acts, without describing or naming them more precisely. At 
 last, on the occasion of Caesar's public funeral, he contrived so to in- 
 flame the populace against the conspirators, that Brutus and Cassius 
 had some difficulty in defending their houses and their lives ; and he 
 gradually alarmed them so much, and worked so cunningly on their 
 fears, that they all quitted Rome. Cicero also left Rome, disapprov- 
 ing greatly of the vacillation and want of purpose in the conspirators. 
 On the first of June Antonius assembled the senate to deliberate on the 
 affairs of the republic, and in the interval visited all parts of Italy. 
 
 In the mean time young Octavius appeared on the stage ; he had been 
 left by Caesar, who was his uncle, the heir to his name and estate. He 
 returned from Apollonia, in Macedonia, to Italy as soon as he heard 
 of his uncle's death, and arrived at Naples on the eighteenth of April, 
 where he was introduced by Hirtius and Pansa to Cicero, whom ho 
 promised to be guided in all respects by his directions. He was now 
 between eighteen and nineteen years of age. 
 
 He began by the representation of public spectacles and games in honor 
 of Caesar's victories. In the mean time Antonius, in his progress 
 through Italy, was making great use of the decree confirming alf Cae- 
 sar's acts, which he interpolated and forged in the most shameless man- 
 ner. Among other things he restored Deiotarus to all his dominions. 
 
282 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 having been bribed to do so by a hundred millions of sesterces by the 
 king's agents ; but Deiotarus himself, as soon as he heard of Caesar's 
 death, seized all his dominions by force. He also seized the public 
 treasure which Caesar had deposited in the temple of Opis, amounting 
 to above four millions and a half of our money, and with this he won 
 over Dolabella, 1 who had seized the consulship on the death of Caesar, 
 and the greater part of the army. 
 
 At the end of May Cicero began to return toward Rome, in order to ar- 
 rive there in time for the meeting of the senate on the first of June ; but 
 many of his friends dissuaded him from entering the city, and at last 
 he determined not to appear in the senate on that day, but to make a 
 tour in Greece ; to assist him in which, Dolabella named him of his 
 lieutenants. Antonius also gave Brutus and Cassius commissions to 
 buy corn in Asia and Sicily for the use of the republic, in order to keep 
 them out of the city. 
 
 Meantime Sextus Pompeius, who was at the head of a considerable army 
 in Spain, addressed letters to the consuls proposing terms of accommo- 
 dation, which after some debate, and some important modifications, were 
 agreed to, and he quitted Spain, and came as far as Marseilles on his 
 road toward Rome. 
 
 Cicero having started for Greece was forced to put back by contrary 
 winds, and returned to Velia on the seventeenth of August, where he 
 had a long conference with Brutus, who soon after left Italy for his 
 province of Macedonia, which Caesar had assigned him before his death, 
 though Antonius now wished to compel him to exchange it for Crete. 
 After this conference Cicero returned to Rome, where he was received 
 with unexampled joy, immense multitudes thronging out to meet him, 
 and to escort him into the city. He arrived in Rome on the last day 
 of August. The next day the senate met, to which he was particular- 
 ly summoned by Antonius, but he excused himself as not having re- 
 covered from the fatigue of his journey. 
 
 Antonius was greatly offended, and in his speech in the senate threaten- 
 ed openly to order his house to be pulled down ; the real reason of 
 Cicero's absenting himself from the senate being, that the business of 
 the day was to decree some new and extraordinary honors to Caesar, 
 and to order supplications to him as a divinity, which Cicero was de- 
 termined not to concur in, though he knew it would be useless to op- 
 pose them. 
 
 The next day also the senate met, and Antonius absented himself; but 
 Cicero came down and delivered the following speech, which is the 
 first of that celebrated series of fourteen speeches made in opposition 
 to Antonius and his measures, and called Philippics from the orations 
 of Demosthenes against Philip, to which the Romans were in the habit 
 of comparing them. 2 
 
 I. Before, O conscript fathers, I say those things concern- 
 ing the republic which I think myself bound to say at the 
 
 1 Dolabella had been married to Cicero's daughter Tullia, but was di- 
 vorced from her. 
 
 3 The name was given them early. Juvenal, who wrote within a hun- 
 dred years of Cicero's time, calls them " divina Philippica." 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 283 
 
 present time, I will explain to you briefly the cause of my de- 
 parture from, and of my return to the city. "When I hoped 
 that the republic was at last recalled to a proper respect for 
 your wisdom and for your authority, I thought that it became 
 me to remain in a sort of sentinelship, which was imposed 
 upon me by my position as a senator and a man of consular 
 rank. Nor did I depart any where, nor did I ever take my 
 eyes off from the republic, from the day on which we were 
 summoned to meet in the temple of Tellus ; ] in which temple, 
 I, as far as was in my power, laid the foundations of peace, 
 and renewed the ancient precedent set by the Athenians ; I 
 even used the Greek word, 2 which that city employed in those 
 times in allaying discords, and gave my vote that all recollec- 
 tion of the existing dissensions ought to be effaced by ever- 
 lasting oblivion. 
 
 The oration then made by Marcus Antonius was an admi- 
 rable one ; his disposition, too, appeared excellent ; and last- 
 ly, by his means and by his sons', peace was ratified with the 
 most illustrious of the citizens ; and every thing else was con- 
 sistent with this beofinnino;. He invited the chief men of the 
 state to those deliberations which he held at his own house 
 concerning the state of the republic ; he referred all the most 
 important matters to this order. Nothing was at that time 
 found among the papers of Caius Caesar except what was al- 
 ready well known to every body ; and he gave answers to ev- 
 ery question that was asked of him with the greatest consist- 
 ency. Were any exiles restored 1 He said that one was, 
 and only one. Were any immunities granted ! He answered, 
 None. He wished us even to adopt the proposition of Servius 
 Sulpicius, that most illustrious man, that no tablet purporting 
 to contain any decree or grant of Caesar's should be published 
 after the Ides of March *were expired. I pass over many other 
 things, all excellent — for I am hastening to come to a very 
 extraordinary act of virtue of Marcus Antonius. He utterly 
 abolished from the constitution of the republic the Dictator- 
 ship, which had by this time attained to the authority of re- 
 gal power. And that measure was not even offered to us for 
 discussion. He brought with him a decree of the senate, ready 
 drawn up, ordering what he chose to have done : and when it 
 had been read, we all submitted to his authority in the mat- 
 
 1 This meeting took place on the third day after Caesar's death 
 
 2 Mr) iivrjauianeiv. 
 
284 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ter with the greatest eagerness ; and, by another resolution of 
 the senate, we returned him thanks in the most honorable and 
 complimentary language. 
 
 II. A new light, as it were, seemed to be brought over us, 
 now that not only the kingly power which we had endured, but 
 all fear of such power for the future, was taken away from us ; 
 and a great pledge appeared to have been given by him to the 
 republic that he did wish the city to be free, when he utterly 
 abolished out of the republic the name of dictator, which had 
 often been a legitimate title, on account of our late recollec- 
 tion of a perpetual dictatorship. A few days afterward the 
 senate was delivered from the danger of bloodshed, and a hook 1 
 was fixed into that runaway slave who had usurped the name 
 of Caius Marius. And all these things he did in concert with 
 his colleague. Some other things that were done were the acts 
 of Dolabella alone ; but, if his colleague had not been absent, 
 would, I believe, have been done by both of them in concert. 
 
 For when enormous evil was insinuating itself into the re- 
 public, and was gaining more strength clay by day ; and when 
 the same men were erecting; a tomb 2 in the forum, who had 
 performed that irregular funeral ; and when abandoned men, 
 with slaves like themselves, were every day threatening with 
 more and more vehemence aU the houses and temples of the 
 city ; so severe was the rigor of Dolabella, not only toward the 
 audacious and wicked slaves, but also toward the profligate 
 and unprincipled freemen, and so prompt was his overthrow 
 of that accursed pillar, that it seems marvelous to me that the 
 subsequent time has been so different from that one day. 
 
 For behold, on the first of June, on which day they had 
 given notice that we were all to attend the senate, every thing 
 was changed. Nothing was done by the senate, but many and 
 important measures were transacted by the agency of the peo- 
 ple, though that people was both absent and disapproving. 
 The consuls elect said, that they did not dare to come into 
 the senate. The liberators of their countiy were absent from 
 that city from the neck of which they had removed the yoke 
 of slavery; though the very consuls themselves professed to 
 
 1 The hook was to drag his carcass along the streets to throw it into 
 the Tiber. So Juvenal says — 
 
 " Sejanus ducitur unco 
 Spectandus." — x. 66. 
 3 This rcft-rs to a pillar that was raised in the forum in 1-^nor of C«sar, 
 with the inscription. "To the Father of his Country " 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 285 
 
 praise them in their public harangues and in all their conver- 
 sation. Those who were called Veterans, men of whose safety 
 this order had been most particularly careful, were instigated 
 not to the preservation of those things which they had, but 
 to cherish hopes of new booty. And as I preferred hearing 
 of those things to seeing them, and as I had an honorary com- 
 mission as lieutenant, I went away, intending to be present on 
 the first of January, which appeared likely to be the first day 
 of assembling the senate. 
 
 III. I have now explained to you, O conscript fathers, my 
 design in leaving the city. Now 1 will briefly set before you, 
 also, my intention in returning, which may perhaps appear 
 more unaccountable. As I had avoided Brundusium, and the 
 ordinary route into Greece, not without good reason, on the 
 first of August I arrived at Syracuse, because the passage from 
 that city into Greece was said to be a good one. And that 
 city, with which I had so intimate a connection, could not, 
 though it was very eager to do so, detain me more than one 
 nigjit. I was afraid that my sudden arrival among my iriends 
 might cause some suspicion if I remained there at all. But 
 after the winds had driven me, on my departure from Sicily, 
 to Leucopetra, which is a promontory of the Rhegian district, 
 I went up the gulf from that point, with the view of crossing 
 over. And I had not advanced far before I was driven back 
 by a foul wind to the very place which I had just quitted. 
 And as the night was stormy, and as I had lodged that night 
 in the villa of Publius Valerius, my companion and intimate 
 friend, and as I remained all the next day at his house waiting ^ 
 for a fair wind, many of the citizens of the municipality of 
 Rhegium came to me. And of them there were some who had 
 lately arrived from Rome ; from them I first heard of the ha- 
 rangue of Marcus Antonius, with which I was so much pleased 
 that, after I had read it, I began for the first time to think of 
 returning. And not long afterward the edict of Brutus and 
 Cassius is brought to me ; which (perhaps because I love those 
 men, even more for the sake of the republic than of my own 
 friendship for them) appeared to me, indeed, to be full of 
 equity. They added besides, (for it is a very common thing 
 for those who are desirous of bringing good news to invent 
 something to make the news which they bring seem more joy- 
 ful.) that parties were coming to an agreement ; that the sen- 
 ate was to meet on the first of August ; that Antonius having 
 
286 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 discarded all evil counselors, and having given up the prov- 
 inces of Gaul, was about to return to submission to the au- 
 thority of the senate. 
 
 IV. But on this I was inflamed with such eagerness to 
 return, that no oars or winds could be fast enough for me ; 
 not that I thought that I should not arrive in time, but lest I 
 should be later than I wished in congratulating the republic ; 
 and I quickly arrived at Velia, where I saw Brutus ; how 
 grieved I was, I can not express. For it seemed to be a dis- 
 creditable thing for me myself, that I should venture to return 
 into that city from which Brutus was departing, and that 
 I should be willing to live safely in a place where he could not. 
 But he himself was not agitated in the same manner that 
 I was ; for, being elevated with the consciousness of his great 
 and glorious exploit, he had no complaints to make of what 
 had befallen him, though he lamented your fate exceedingly. 
 And it was from him that I first heard what had been the 
 language of Lucius Piso, in the senate of August ; who although 
 he was but little assisted (for that I heard from Brutus him- 
 self) by those who ought to have seconded him, still accord- 
 ing to the testimony of Brutus (and what evidence can be 
 more trustworthy ?), and to the avowal of every one whom 
 I saw afterward, appeared to me to have gained great credit. 
 I hastened hither, therefore, in order that as those who were 
 present had not seconded him, I might do so ; not with the 
 hope of doing any good, for I neither hoped for that, nor did I 
 well see how it was possible ; but in order that if any thing 
 happened to me, (and many things appeared to be threatening 
 me out of the regular course of nature, and even of destiny), 
 I might still leave my speech on this day as a witness to the 
 republic of my everlasting attachment to its interests. 
 
 Since, then, O conscript fathers, I trust that the reason of 
 my adopting each determination appears praiseworthy to you, 
 before I begin to speak of the republic, I will make a brief 
 complaint of the injury which Marcus Antonius did me yes- 
 terday ; to whom I am friendly, and I have at all times ad- 
 mitted having received some services from him which make 
 it my duty to be so. 
 
 V. What reason had he then for endeavoring, with such 
 bitter hostility, to force me into the senate yesterday ? Was 
 I the only person who was absent ? Have you not repeatedly 
 had thinner houses than yesterday ? Or was a matter of such 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 287 
 
 importance under discussion, that it was desirable for even sick 
 men to be brought down ? Hannibal, I suppose, was at the 
 gates, or there was to be a debate about peace with Pyrrhus ; 
 on which occasion it is related that even the great Appius, old 
 and blind as he was, was brought down to the senate-house. 
 There was a motion being made about some supplications ; a 
 kind of measure when senators are not usually warning ; for 
 they are under the compulsion, not of pledges, but of the in- 
 fluence of those men whose honor is being complimented; 
 and the case is the same when the motion has reference to a 
 triumph. The consuls are so free from anxiety at these times, 
 that it is almost entirely free for a senator to absent himself if 
 he pleases. And as the general custom of our body was well 
 known to me, and as I was hardly recovered from the fatigue 
 of my journey, and was vexed with myself, I sent a man to 
 him, out of regard for my friendship to him, to tell him that 
 I should not be there. But he, in the hearing of you all, de- 
 clared that he would come with masons to my house ; this 
 was said with too much passion and very intemperately. For, 
 for what crime is there such a heavy punishment appointed as 
 that, that any one should venture to say in this assembly that 
 he, with the assistance of a lot of common operatives, would 
 pull down a house which had been built at the public ex- 
 pense in accordance with a vote of the senate? And who 
 ever employed such compulsion as the threat of such an inju- 
 ry as that to a senator ? or what severer punishment has ever 
 been imposed for absence than the forfeiture of a pledge, or a 
 fine ? But if he had known what opinion I should have de- 
 livered on the subject, he would have remitted somewhat of 
 the rigor of his compulsion. 
 
 VI. Do you think, O conscript fathers, that I would have 
 voted for the resolution which you adopted against your own 
 wills, of mingling funeral obsequies with supplications? of in- 
 troducing inexplicable impiety into the republic ? of decreeing 
 supplications in honor of a dead man ? I say nothing about 
 who the man was. Even had he been that great Lucius 
 Brutus who himself also delivered the republic from kingly 
 power, and who has produced posterity nearly five hundred 
 years after himself of similar virtue, and equal to similar 
 achievements — even then I could not have been induced to 
 join any dead man in a religious observance paid to the im- 
 mortal gods; so that a supplication should be addressed by 
 
S88 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 public authority to a man who has nowhere a sepulchre at 
 which funeral obsequies may be celebrated. 
 
 I, O conscript fathers, should have delivered my opinion, 
 which I could easily have defended against the Roman people, 
 if any heavy misfortune had happened to the republic, such as 
 war, or pestilence, or famine ; some of which, indeed, do exist 
 already, and I have my fears lest others are impending. But 
 I pray that the immortal gods may pardon this act, both to 
 the Roman people, which does not approve of it, and to this 
 order, which voted it with great unwillingness. What % may 
 I not speak of the other misfortunes of the republic ? — At all 
 events it is in my power, and it always will be in my power, 
 to uphold my own dignity and to despise death. Let me have 
 only the power to come into this house, and I will never 
 shrink from the danger of declaring my opinion ! 
 
 And, O conscript fathers, would that I had been able to be 
 present on the first of August ; not that I should have been 
 able to do any good, but to prevent any one saying that not 
 one senator of consular rank (as was the case then) was found 
 worthy of that honor and worthy of the republic. And this 
 circumstance indeed gives me great pain, that men who have 
 enjoyed the most honorable distinctions which the Roman 
 people can confer, did not second Lucius Piso, the proposer of 
 an excellent opinion. Is it for this that the Roman people 
 made us consuls, that, being placed on the loftiest and most 
 honorable step of dignity, we should consider the republic of 
 no importance 1 ? Not only did no single man of consular dig- 
 nity indicate his agreement with Lucius Piso by his voice, 
 but they did not venture even to look as if they agreed 
 with him. What, in the name of all that is horrible, is 
 the meaning of this voluntary slavery? — Some submission 
 may have been unavoidable : nor do I require this from every 
 one of the men who deliver their opinions from the consular 
 bench ; the case of those men whose silence I pardon is dif- 
 ferent from that of those whose expression of their senti- 
 ments I require ; and I do grieve that those men have fallen 
 under the suspicion of the Roman people, not only as being 
 afraid, — which of itself w r ould be shameful enough, — but as 
 having diiferent private causes for being wanting to their 
 proper dignity. 
 
 VII. Wherefore, in the first place, I both feel and acknowl- 
 edge great obligations to Lucius Piso, who considered not what 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 289 
 
 he was able to effect in the republic, but what it was his own 
 duty to do ; and, in the next place, I entreat of you, O con- 
 script fathers, even if you have not quite the courage to agree 
 with my speech and to adopt my advice, at all events to listen 
 to me with kindness as you have always hitherto done. 
 
 In the first place, then, I declare my opinion that the acts 
 of Caesar ought to be maintained : not that I approve of 
 them; (for who indeed can do that?) but because I think 
 that we ought above all things to have regard to peace and 
 tranquillity. I wish that Antonius himself were present, pro- 
 vided he had no advocates with him. But I suppose he may 
 be allowed to feel unwell, a privilege which he refused to al- 
 low me yesterday. He would then explain to me, or rather 
 to you, O conscript fathers, to what extent he himself de- 
 fended the acts of Caesar. Are all the acts of Caesar which 
 may exist in the bits of note -books, and memoranda, and 
 loose papers, produced on his single authority, and indeed 
 not even produced, but only recited, to be ratified 1 ? And 
 shall the acts which lie caused to be engraved on brass, in 
 which he declared that the edicts and laws passed by the 
 people were valid forever, be considered as of no power? I 
 think, indeed, that there is nothing so well entitled to be called 
 the acts of Caesar as Caesar's laws. Suppose he gave any one 
 a promise, is that to be ratified, even if it were a promise that 
 he himself was unable to perform? As, in fact, he has failed 
 to perform many promises made to many people. And a great 
 many more of those promises have been found since his death, 
 than the number of all the services which he conferred on and 
 did to people during all the years that he was alive would 
 amount to. 
 
 But all those things I do not change, I do not meddle with. 
 Nay, I defend all his good acts with the greatest earnestness. 
 Would that the money remained in the temple of Opis ! 
 Blood-stained, indeed, it may be, but still needful at these 
 times, since it is not restored to those to whom it really be- 
 longs. 1 Let that, however, be squandered too, if it is so written 
 in his acts. Is there any thing whatever that can be called so 
 peculiarly the act of that man who, while clad in the robe of 
 peace, was yet invested with both civil and military command 
 in the republic, as a law of his ? Ask for the acts of Gracchus, 
 the Sempronian laws will be brought forward ; ask for those 
 
 1 See Philippic 2. 
 
 N 
 
290 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 of Sylla, you will have the Cornelian laws. What more ? In 
 what acts did the third consulship of Cineus Pompeius consist? 
 "Why, in his laws. And if you could ask Caesar himself what 
 he had done in the city and in the garb of peace, he would re- > 
 ply that he had passed many excellent laws ; but hLs memo- I 
 randa he would either alter or not produce at all ; or, if he 
 did produce them, he would not class them among his acts.'j 
 But, however, I allow even these things to pass for acts ; at 
 some things I am content to wink ; but I think it intolerable I 
 that the acts of Caesar in the most important instances, that i 
 is to say, in his laws, are to be annulled for their sake. 
 
 VIII. What law was ever better, more advantageous, more | 
 frequently demanded in the best ages of the republic, than the 
 one which forbade the praetorian provinces to be retained more 
 than a year, and the consular provinces more than two ? If 
 this law be abrogated, do you think that the acts of Caesar are 
 maintained ? What % are not all the laws of Caesar respect- 
 ing judicial proceedings abrogated by the law which has been 
 proposed concerning the third decury 1 And are you the de- 
 fenders of the acts of Gaesar who overturn his laws? Unless, 
 indeed, any thing which, for the purpose of recollecting it, he 
 entered in a note-book, is to be counted among his acts, and 
 defended, however unjust or useless it may be ; and that which 
 he proposed to the people in the comitia centuriata and car- 
 ried, is not to be accounted one of the acts of Caesar. But 
 what is that third decury ? The decury of centurions, says he. 
 What ? was not the judicature open to that order by the Ju- 
 lian law, and even before that by the Pompeian and Aurelian 
 laws? The income of the men, says he, was exactly defined. 
 Certainly, not only in the case of a centurion, but in the case, 
 too, of a Roman knight. Therefore, men of the highest honor 
 and of the greatest bravery, who have acted as centurions, are 
 and have been judges. I am not asking about those men, says 
 he. Whoever has acted as centurion, let him be a judge. 
 But if you were to propose a law, that whoever had served in 
 the cavalry, which is a higher post, should be a judge, you 
 would not be able to induce any one to approve of that ; for 
 a man's fortune and worth ought to be regarded in a judge. 
 I am not asking about those points, says he ; I am going to 
 add as judges, common soldiers of the legion of Alaudae; 1 for 
 
 1 This was the name of a legion raised by Caesar in Gaul, and called 
 bo, probably, from the ornament worn on their helmet. 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 291 
 
 our friends say, that that is the only measure by which they 
 can be saved. Oh what an insulting compliment it is to those 
 men whom you summon to act as judges though they never 
 expected it ! For the effect of the law is, to make those men 
 judges in the third decury who do not dare to judge with free- 
 dom. And in that how great, O ye immortal gods ! is the error 
 of those men who have desired that law. For the meaner the 
 condition of each judge is, the greater will be the severity of 
 judgment with which he will seek to efface the idea of his 
 meanness ; and he will strive rather to appear worthy of be- 
 ing classed in the honorable decuries, than to have deservedly 
 ranked in a disreputable one. 
 
 IX. Another law was proposed, that men who had been 
 condemned of violence and treason may appeal to the public 
 if they please. Is this now a law, or rather an abrogation of 
 all laws ? For who is there at this day to whom it is an ob- 
 ject that that law should stand? No one is accused under 
 those laws ; there is no one whom we think likely to be so 
 accused. For measures which have been carried by force of 
 arms will certainly never be impeached in a court of justice. 
 But the measure is a popular one. I wish, indeed, that you 
 were willing to promote any popular measure ; for, at present, 
 all the citizens agree wdth one mind and one voice in their 
 view of its bearing on the safety of the republic. 
 
 What is the meaning, then, of the eagerness to pass the law 
 which brings with it the greatest possible infamy, and no pop- 
 ularity at all ? For what can be more discreditable than for 
 a man who has committed treason against the Roman people 
 by acts of violence, after he has been condemned by a legal 
 decision, to be able to return to that very course of violence, 
 on account of which he has been condemned ! But why do I 
 argue anymore about this law? as if the object aimed at were 
 to enable any one to appeal? The object is, the inevitable 
 consequence must be, that no one can ever be prosecuted un- 
 der those laws. For what prosecutor will be found insane 
 enough to be willing, after the defendant has been condemned, 
 to expose himself to the fury of a hired mob? or w T hat judge 
 wall be bold enough to venture to condemn a criminal, know- 
 ing that he will immediately be dragged before a gang of hire- 
 ling operatives? It is not, therefore, a right of appeal that is 
 given by that law, but two most salutary laws and modes of 
 judicial investigation that are abolished. And what is this 
 
292 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 but exhorting young men to be turbulent, seditious, mischiev- 
 ous citizens ? 
 
 To what extent of mischief will it not be possible to insti- 
 gate the frenzy of the tribunes now that these two rights of 
 impeachment for violence and for treason are annulled ? What 
 more? Is not this a substitution of a new law for the laws of 
 Caesar, which enact that every man who has been convicted of 
 violence, and also every man who has been convicted of trea- 
 son, shall be interdicted from fire and water? And, when 
 those men have a right of appeal given them, are not the acts 
 of Csesar rescinded ? And those acts, O conscript fathers, I, 
 who never approved of them, have still thought it advisable to 
 maintain for the sake of concord; so that I not only did not 
 think that the laws which Caesar had passed in his lifetime 
 ought to be repealed, but I did not approve of meddling with 
 those even which since the death of Caesar you have seen pro- 
 duced and published. 
 
 X. Men have been recalled from banishment by a dead 
 man ; the freedom of the city has been conferred, not only on 
 individuals, but on entire nations and provinces by a dead 
 man ; our revenues have been diminished by the granting of 
 countless exemptions by a dead man. Therefore, do we defend 
 these measures which have been brought from his house on 
 the authority of a single, but, I admit, a very excellent indi- 
 vidual ; and as for the laws which he, in your presence, read, 
 and declared, and passed, — in the passing of which he gloried, 
 and on which he believed that the safety of the republic de- 
 pended, especially those concerning provinces and concerning 
 judicial proceedings, — can we, I say, we who defend the acts 
 of Caesar, think that those laws deserve to be upset ! 
 
 And yet, concerning those laws which were proposed, we 
 have, at all events, the power of complaining ; but concerning 
 those which are actually passed we have not even had that 
 privilege. For they, without any proposal of them to the 
 people, were passed before they were framed. Men ask, what 
 is the reason why I, or why any one of you, O conscript 
 fathers, should be afraid of bad laws while we have virtuous 
 tribunes of the people ? We have men ready to interpose 
 their veto ; ready to defend the republic with the sanctions of 
 religion. We ought to be strangers to fear. What do you 
 mean by interposing the veto? says he; what are all these 
 sanctions of religion which you are talking about? Those, 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 293 
 
 forsooth, on which the safety of the republic depends. We are 
 neglecting those things, and thinking them too old-fashioned 
 and foolish. The forum will be surrounded, every entrance of 
 it will be blocked up ; armed men will be placed in garrison, 
 as it were, at many points. What then ! — whatever is accom- 
 plished by those means will be law. And you will order, I 
 suppose, all those regularly-passed decrees to be engraved on 
 brazen tablets. u The consuls consulted the people in regular 
 form," (Is this the way of consulting the people that we have 
 received from our ancestors ?) " and the people voted it with 
 due regularity." What people ? that which was excluded 
 from the forum ? Under what law did they do so ? under 
 that which has been wholly abrogated by violence and arms ? 
 But I am saying all this with reference to the future ; because 
 it is the part of a friend to point out evils which may be 
 avoided : and if they never ensue, that will be the best refuta- 
 tion of my speech. I am speaking of laws which have been 
 proposed ; concerning which you have still full power to de- 
 cide either way. I am pointing out the defects ; away with 
 them ! I am denouncing violence and arms ; away with them 
 too! 
 
 XL You and your colleague, O Dolabella, ought not, in- 
 deed, to be angry with me for speaking in defense of the re- 
 public. Although I do not think that you yourself will be ; I 
 know your willingness to listen to reason. They say that your 
 colleague, in this fortune of his, which he himself thinks so 
 good, but which would seem to me more favorable if (not to 
 use any harsh language) he were to imitate the example set 
 him by the consulship of his grandfathers and of his uncle, — 
 they say that he has been exceedingly offended. And I see 
 what a formidable thing it is to have the same man angry with 
 me and also armed ; especially at a time when men can use 
 their swords with such impunity. But I will propose a con- 
 dition which I myself think reasonable, and which I do not 
 imagine Marcus Antonius will reject. If I have said any 
 thins insulting against his way of life or against his morals. I 
 will not object to his being my bitterest enemy. But if I have 
 maintained the same habits that I have already adopted in the 
 republic, — that is, if I have spoken my opinions concerning 
 the affairs of the republic with freedom, — in the first place, I 
 beg that he will not be angry with me for that ; but, in the 
 next place, if I can not obtain my first request, I beg at least 
 
294 CICEROS ORATIONS. 
 
 that lie will show his anger only as he legitimately may show 
 it to a fellow-citizen. 
 
 Let him employ arms, if it is necessary, as he says it is, for 
 his own defense : only let not those arms injure those men 
 who have declared their honest sentiments in the affairs of 
 the republic. Now, what can be more reasonable than this 
 demand ? But if, as has been said to me by some of his inti- 
 mate friends, every speech which is at all contrary to his in- 
 clination is violently offensive to him, even if there be no in- 
 sult in it whatever ; then we will bear with the natural dis- 
 position of our friend. But those men, at the same time, say 
 to me, " You will not have the same license granted to you 
 who are the adversary of Caesar as might be claimed by Piso 
 his father-in-law." And then they warn me of something 
 which I must guard against ; and certainly, the excuse which 
 sickness supplies me with, for not coming to the senate, 
 will not be a more valid one than that which is furnished by 
 death. 
 
 XII. But, in the name of the immortal gods ! for while I 
 look upon you, O Dolabella, who are most dear to me, it is 
 impossible for me to keep silence respecting the error into 
 which you are both falling ; for I believe that you, being both 
 men of high birth, entertaining lofty views, have been eager 
 to acquire, not money, as some too credulous people suspect, 
 a thing which has at all times been scorned by every honora- 
 ble and illustrious man, nor power procured by violence and 
 authority such as never ought to be endured by the Roman 
 people, but the affection of your fellow-citizens, and glory. 
 But glory is praise for deeds which have been done, and the 
 fame earned by great services to the republic ; which is ap- 
 proved of by the testimony borne in its favor, not only by 
 every virtuous man, but also by the multitude. I would tell 
 you, O Dolabella, what the fruit of good actions is, if I did 
 not see that you have already learned it by experience be- 
 yond all other men. 
 
 What day can you recollect in your whole life, as ever hav- 
 ing beamed on you with a more joyful light than the one on 
 which, having purified the forum, having routed the throng 
 of wicked men, having inflicted due punishment on the ring- 
 leaders in wickedness, and having delivered the city from con- 
 flagration and from fear of massacre, you returned to your 
 house? What order of society, what class of people, what 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 295 
 
 rank of nobles even was there who did not then show their 
 zeal in praising and congratulating you? Even I, too, be- 
 cause men thought that you had been acting by my advice 
 in those transactions, received the thanks and congratulations 
 of good men in your name. Remember, I pray you, O Dol- 
 abella, the unanimity displayed on that day in the theatre, 
 when every one, forgetful of the causes on account of which 
 they had been previously offended with you, showed that in 
 consequence of your recent service they had banished all rec- 
 ollection of their former indignation. Could you, O Dolabel- 
 la (it is with great concern that I speak), — could you, I say, 
 forfeit this dignity with equanimity 1 ? 
 
 XIII. And you, O Marcus Antonius (I address myself to 
 you, though in your absence), do you not prefer that day on 
 which the senate was assembled in the temple of Tellus, to 
 all those months during which some who differ greatly in 
 opinion from me think that you have been happy? What 
 a noble speech was that of yours about unanimity ! From 
 what apprehensions were the veterans, and from what anx- 
 ietv was the whole state relieved bv you on that occasion! 
 when, having laid aside your enmity against him, you on 
 that day first consented that your present colleague should 
 be your colleague, forgetting that the auspices had been an- 
 nounced by yourself as augur of the Roman people ; and 
 when your little son was sent by you to the Capitol to be a 
 hostage for peace. On what day was the senate ever more 
 joyful than on that day? or when was the Roman people 
 more delighted 1 which had never met in greater numbers in 
 any assembly whatever. Then, at last, we did appear to have 
 been really delivered by brave men, because, as they had willed 
 it to be, peace was following liberty. On the next day, on 
 the day after that, on the third day, and on all the following 
 days, you went on without intermission, giving every day, 
 it were, some fresh present to the republic ; but the greatest 
 of all presents was that, when you abolished the name of the 
 dictatorship. This was in effect branding the name of the 
 dead Caesar with everlasting ignominy, and it was your do- 
 ing, — yours, I say. For as, on account of the wickedness of 
 one Marcus Manlius, by a resolution of the Manlian family it 
 is unlawful that any patrician should be called Manlius, so 
 you, on account of the hatred excited by one dictator, have 
 ijiterlv abolished the name of dictator. 
 
296 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 "When you had done these mighty exploits for the safety of 
 the republic, did you repent of your fortune, or of the dignity 
 and renown and glory which you had acquired ? Whence 
 then is this sudden change ! I can not be induced to suspect 
 that you have been caught by the desire of acquiring money ; 
 every one may say what he pleases, but we are not bound to 
 believe such a thing ; for I never saw any thing sordid or any 
 thing mean in you. Although a man's intimate friends do 
 sometimes corrupt his natural disposition, still I know your 
 firmness ; and I only wish that, as you avoid that mult, you 
 had keen able also to escape all suspicion of it. 
 
 XIV. What I am more afraid of is lest, bein«; ignorant of 
 the true path to glory, you should think it glorious for you to 
 have more power by yourself than all the rest of the people 
 put together, and lest you should prefer being feared by your 
 fellow-citizens to being loved by them. And if you do think 
 so, you are ignorant of the road to glory. For a citizen to be 
 dear to his fellow-citizens, to deserve well of the republic, to 
 be praised, to be respected, to be loved, is glorious ; but to be 
 feared, and to be an object of hatred, is odious, detestable; and, 
 moreover, pregnant with weakness and decay. And we see 
 that, even in the play, the very man who said, 
 
 u What care I though all men should hate my name, 
 So long as fear accompanies their hater' 
 
 found that it was a mischievous principle to act upon. 
 
 I wish, O Antonius, that you could recollect your grandfa- 
 ther, of whom, however, you have repeatedly heard me speak. 
 Do you think that he would have been willing to deserve even 
 immortality, at the price of being feared in consequence of his 
 licentious use of arms? What he considered life, what he con- 
 sidered prosperity, was the being equal to the rest of the citi- 
 zens in freedom, and chief of them all in worth. Therefore, 
 to say no more of the prosperity of your grandfather, I should 
 prefer that most bitter day of his death to the domination of 
 Lucius China, by whom he was most barbarously slain. 
 
 But why should I seek to make an impression on you by 
 my speech? For, if the end of Cains Caesar can not inlluence 
 you to prefer being loved to being feared, no speech of any one 
 will do any good or have any influence with you ; and those 
 who think him happy are themselves miserable. No one is 
 happy who lives on such terms that he may be put to death 
 not merely with impunity, but even to the great glory of his 
 
THE FIRST PHILIPPIC. 297 
 
 slayer. Wherefore, change your mind, I entreat you, and look 
 back upon your ancestors, and govern the republic in such a 
 way that your fellow-citizens may rejoice that you were born ; 
 without which no one can be happy nor illustrious. 
 
 XV. And, indeed, you have both of you had many judg- 
 ments delivered respecting you by the Roman people, by 
 which I am greatly concerned that you are not sufficiently in- 
 fluenced. For what was the meaning of the shouts of the in- 
 numerable crowd of citizens collected at the gladiatorial games ? 
 or of the verses made by the people ? or of the extraordinary 
 applause at the sight of the statue of Fompeius? and at that 
 sight of the two tribunes of the people who are opposed to you % 
 Are these things a feeble indication of the incredible unanimi- 
 ty of the entire Koman people ? What more ? Did the ap- 
 plause at the games of Apollo, or, I should rather say, testi- 
 mony and judgment there given by the Eoman people, appear 
 to you of small importance? Oh! happy are those men who, 
 though they themselves were unable to be present on account 
 of the violence of arms, still were present in spirit, and had a 
 place in the breasts and hearts of the Eoman people. Unless, 
 perhaps, you think that it was Accius who was applauded on 
 that occasion, and who bore off the palm sixty years after his 
 first appearance, and not Brutus, who was absent from the 
 games which he himself was exhibiting, while at that most 
 splendid spectacle the Eoman people showed their zeal in his 
 favor though he was absent, and soothed their own regret for 
 their deliverer by uninterrupted applause and clamor. 
 
 I myself, indeed, am a man who have at all times despised 
 that applause which is bestowed by the vulgar crowd, but at 
 the same time, when it is bestowed by those of the highest, 
 and of the middle, and of the lowest rank, and, in short, by 
 all ranks together, and when those men who were previously 
 accustomed to aim at nothing but the favor of the people keep 
 aloof, I then think that, not mere applause, but a deliberate 
 verdict. If this appears to you unimportant, which is in real- 
 ity most significant, do you also despise the fact of which you 
 have had experience — namely, that the life of Aulus Hirtius 
 is so dear to the Eoman people % For it was sufficient for 
 him to be esteemed by the Eoman people as he is ; to be pop- 
 ular among his friends, in which respect he surpasses every 
 body ; to be beloved by his own kinsmen, who do love him 
 beyond measure ; but in whose case before do we ever recol- 
 
 N2 
 
998 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 lect such anxiety and such fear being manifested ? Certainly 
 in no one's. 
 
 What, then, are we to do ? In the name of the immortal 
 gods, can you interpret these facts, and see what is their pur- 
 port? What do you think that those men think of your lives, 
 to whom the lives of those men who they hope will consult 
 the welfare of the republic are so dear? I have reaped, O 
 conscript fathers, the reward of my return, since I have said 
 enough to bear testimony of my consistency whatever event 
 may befall me, and since I have been kindly and attentively 
 listened to by you. And if I have such opportunities frequent- 
 ly without exposing both myself and you to danger, 1 shall 
 avail myself of them. If not, as far as I can I shall reserve 
 myself not for myself, but rather for the republic. I have 
 lived long enough for the course of human life, or for my own 
 glory. If any additional life is granted to me, it shall be 
 bestowed not so much on myself as on you and on the re- 
 public. 
 
 THE SECOND SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS 
 
 ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 This second speech was not actually spoken at all. Antonius was great- 
 ly enraged at the first speech, and summoned another meeting of the 
 senate for the nineteenth day of the month, giving Cicero especial no- 
 tice to be present, and he employed the interval in preparing an invec- 
 tive against Cicero, and a reply to the first Philippic. The senate met 
 in the temple of Concord, but Cicero himself was persuaded not to at- 
 tend by his friends, who were afraid of Antonius proceeding to actual 
 violence against him (and indeed he brought a strong guard of armed 
 men with him to the senate). He spoke with the greatest fury against 
 Cicero, charging him with having been the principal author and con- 
 triver of Caesar's murder, hoping by this to inflame the soldiers, whom 
 he had posted within hearing of his harangue. 
 
 Soon after this, Cicero removed to a villa near Naples for greater safety, 
 and here he composed this second Philippic, which he did not publish 
 immediately, but contented himself at first with sending a copy to Bru- 
 tus and Cassius, who were much pleased with it. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 299 
 
 I. To what destiny of mine, O conscript fathers, shall I say 
 that it is owing, that none for the last twenty years has been 
 an enemy to the republic without at the same time declaring 
 war against me ? Nor is there any necessity for naming any 
 particular person ; you yourselves recollect instances in proof 
 of my statement. They have all hitherto suffered severer pun- 
 ishments than I could have wished for them ; but I marvel 
 that you, O Antonius, do not fear the end of those men whose 
 conduct you are imitating. And in others I was less surprised 
 at this. None of those men of former times was a voluntary 
 enemy to me ; all of them were attacked by me for the sake 
 of the republic. But you, who have never been injured by 
 me, not even by a word, in order to appear more audacious 
 than Catiline, more frantic than Clodius, have of your own 
 accord attacked me with abuse., and have considered that your 
 alienation from me would be a recommendation of you to im- 
 pious citizens. 
 
 What am I to think? that I have been despised? I see 
 nothing either in my life, or in my influence in the city, or in 
 my exploits, or even in the moderate abilities with which I am 
 endowed, which Antonius can despise. Did he think that it 
 was easiest to disparage me in the senate ? a body which has 
 borne its testimony in favor of many most illustrious citizens 
 that they governed the republic well, but in favor of me alone, 
 of all men, -that I preserved it. Or did he wish to contend 
 with me in a rivalry of eloquence ! This, indeed, is an act 
 of generosity? for what could be a more fertile or richer sub- 
 ject for me, than to have to speak in defense of myself, and 
 against Antonius? This, in fact, is the truth. He thought 
 it impossible to prove to the satisfaction of those men who re- 
 sembled himself, that he was an enemy to his country, if he 
 was not also an enemy to me. And before I make him any 
 reply on the other topics of his speech, I will say a few words 
 respecting the friendship formerly subsisting between us, which 
 he has accused me of violating, — for that I consider a most 
 serious charge. 
 
 II. He has complained that I pleaded once against his in- 
 terest. Was I not to plead against one with whom I was quite 
 unconnected, in behalf of an intimate acquaintance, of a dear 
 friend ? Was I not to plead against interest acquired not by 
 hopes of virtue, but by the disgrace of youth ! Was I not to 
 plead against an injustice which that man procured to be done 
 
300 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 by the obsequiousness of a most iniquitous interposer of his 
 veto, not by any law regulating the privileges of the praetor ? 
 But I imagine that this was mentioned by you, in order that 
 you might recommend yourself to the citizens, if they all rec- 
 ollected that you were the son-in-law of a freedman, and 
 that your children were the grandsons of Quintus Fadius a 
 freedman. 
 
 But you had entirely devoted yourself to my principles 
 (for this is what you said) ; you had been in the habit of 
 coming to my house. In truth, if you had done so, you would 
 more have consulted your own character and your reputation 
 for chastity. But you did not do so, nor, if you had wished it, 
 would Caius Curio have ever suffered you to do so. You have 
 said, that you retired in my favor from the contest for the au- 
 gurship. Oh the incredible audacity ! oh the monstrous im- 
 pudence of such an assertion ! For, at the time when Cnaeus 
 Pompeius and Quintus Hortensius named me as augur, after 
 I had been wished for as such by the whole college (for it 
 was not lawful for me to be put in nomination by more than 
 two members of the college), you were notoriously insolvent, 
 nor did you think it possible for your safety to be secured by 
 any other means than by the destruction of. the republic. But 
 was it possible for you to stand for the augurship at a time 
 when Curio was not in Italy ? or even at the time when you 
 were elected, could you have got the votes of one single tribe 
 without the aid of Curio? whose intimate friends even were 
 convicted of violence for having been too zealous in your favor. 
 
 III. But I availed myself of your friendly assistance. Of 
 what assistance? Although the instance which you cite I have 
 myself at all times openly admitted. I preferred confessing 
 that I was under obligations to you, to letting myself appear 
 to any foolish person not sufficiently grateful. However, what 
 was the kindness that you did me? not killing me at Brun- 
 dusium ? Would you then have slain the man whom the con- 
 queror himself, who conferred on you, as you used to boast, 
 the chief rank among all his robbers, had desired to be safe, 
 and had enjoined to go to Italy? Grant that you could have 
 slain him, is not this, O conscript fathers, such a kindness as 
 is done by banditti, who are contented with being able to boast 
 that they have granted their lives to all those men whose lives 
 they have not taken? and if that were really a kindness, then 
 those who slew that man by whom they themselves had been 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 301 
 
 saved, and whom you yourself are in the habit of styling most 
 illustrious men, would never have acquired such immortal 
 glorv. But what sort of kindness is it, to have abstained from 
 committing nefarious wickedness 1 It is a case in which it 
 ought not to appear so delightful to me not to have been killed 
 fay yon, as miserable, that it should have been in your power 
 to do such a thing with impunity. However, grant that it 
 >vas a kindness, since no greater kindness could be received 
 from a robber, still in what point can you call me ungrateful ? 
 Ought I not to complain of the ruin of the republic, lest I 
 should appear ungrateful toward you? But in that com- 
 plaint, mournful indeed and miserable, but still unavoidable 
 for a man of that rank in which the senate and people of Rome 
 have placed me, what did I say that was insulting ? that was 
 otherwise than moderate ? that was otherwise than friendly ? 
 and what instance was it not of moderation to complain of 
 the conduct of Marcus Antonius, and yet to abstain from any 
 abusive expressions'? especially when you had scattered abroad 
 all relics of the republic ; when every thing was on sale at your 
 house by the most infamous traffic ; when you confessed that 
 those laws which had never been promulgated, had been pass- 
 ed with reference to you, and by you ; when you, being augur, 
 had abolished the auspices, being consul, had^taken away the 
 power of interposing the veto ; when you were escorted in the 
 most shameful manner by armed guards ; when, worn out with 
 drunkenness and debauchery, you were every day performing 
 all sorts of obscenities in that chaste house of yours. But I, 
 as if I had to contend against Marcus Crassus, with whom I 
 have had many severe struggles, and not with a most worth- 
 less gladiator, while complaining in dignified language of the 
 state of the republic, did not say one word which could be 
 called personal. Therefore, to-day I will make him under- 
 stand with what great kindness he was then treated by me. 
 
 IV. But he also read letters which he said that I had sent 
 to him, like a man devoid of humanity and ignorant of the 
 common usages of life. For who ever, who was even but 
 slightly acquainted with the habits of polite men, produced in 
 an assembly and openly read letters which had been sent to 
 him by a friend, just because some quarrel had arisen between 
 them ? Is not this destroying all companionship in life, de- 
 stroying the means by which absent friends converse together ? 
 How many jests are frequently put in letters, which, if they 
 
302. CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 were produced in public, would appear stupid ! How many- 
 serious opinions, which, for all that, ought not to be publish- 
 ed ! Let this be a proof of your utter ignorance of courtesy. 
 Now mark, also, his incredible folly. What have you to op- 
 pose to me, O you eloquent man, as you seem at least to Mus- 
 tela Tamisius, and to Tiro Numisius? And while these men 
 are standing at this very time in the sight of the senate with 
 drawn swords, I too will think you an eloquent man if you 
 will show how you would defend them if they were charged 
 with being assassins. However, what answer would you make 
 if I were to deny that 1 ever sent those letters to you ? By 
 what evidence could you convict me? by my handwriting? 
 Of handwriting indeed you have a lucrative knowledge. 1 How 
 can you prove it in that manner? for the letters are written 
 by an amanuensis. By this time I envy your teacher, who 
 for all that payment, which I shall mention presently, has 
 taught you to know nothing. 
 
 For what can be less like, I do not say an orator, but a man, 
 than to reproach an adversary with a thing which if he denies 
 by one single word, he who has reproached him can not ad- 
 vance one step further ? But I do not deny it ; and in this 
 very point I convict you not only of inhumanity but also of 
 madness. For jivhat expression is there in those letters which 
 is not full of humanity and service and benevolence? and the 
 whole of your charge amounts to this, that I do not express a 
 bad opinion of you in those letters ; that in them I wrote as 
 to a citizen, and as to a virtuous man, not as to a wicked man 
 and a robber. But your letters I will not produce, -although 
 1 fairly might, now that I am thus challenged by you ; letters 
 in which you be<r of me that you may be enabled by my con- 
 sent to procure the recall of some one from exile ; and you 
 will not attempt it if I have any objection, and you prevail 
 on me by your entreaties. For why should I put myself in 
 the way of your audacity? when neither the authority of this 
 body, nor the opinion of the Roman people, nor any laws are 
 able to restrain you. However, what was the object of your 
 addressing these entreaties to me, if the man for whom you 
 were entreating was already restored by a law of Caesar's \ I 
 suppose the truth was, that he wished it to be done by me 
 as a favor ; in which matter there could not be any favor 
 
 1 He moans to insinuate that Antonius had been forging Caesar's hand- 
 writing and signature. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 303 
 
 done even by himself, if a law was already passed for the 
 purpose. 
 
 V. But as, O conscript fathers, I have many things which 
 I must say both in my own defense and against Marcus An- 
 tonius, one thing I ask you, that you will listen to me with 
 kindness while I am speaking for myself; the other I will in- 
 sure myself, namely, that you shall listen to me with attention 
 while speaking against him. At the same time also, I beg 
 this of you; that if you have been acquainted with my mod- 
 eration and modesty throughout my whole life, and especially 
 as a speaker, you will not, when to-day I answer this man in 
 the spirit in which he has attacked me, think that I have for- 
 gotten my usual character. I will not treat him as a consul, 
 for he did not treat me as a man of consular rank ; and al- 
 though he in no respect deserves to be considered a consul, 
 whether we regard his way of life, or his principle of govern- 
 ing the republic, or the manner in which he was elected, I am 
 beyond all dispute a man of consular rank. 
 
 That, therefore, you might understand what sort of a con- 
 sul he professed to be himself, he reproached me with my 
 consulship ; — a consulship which, O conscript fathers, was in 
 name, indeed, mine, but in reality yours. For what did I de- 
 termine, what did I contrive, what did I do, that was not de- 
 termined, contrived, or done, by the counsel and authority and 
 in accordance with the sentiments of this order? And have 
 you, O wise man, O man not merely eloquent, dared to find 
 fault with these actions before the very men by whose counsel 
 and wisdom they were performed ? But who was ever found 
 before, except Publius Clodius, to find fault with my consul- 
 ship? And his fate indeed awaits you, as it also awaited 
 Caius Curio ; since that is now in your house which was fatal 
 to each of them. 1 
 
 Marcus Antonius disapproves of my consulship ; but it was 
 approved of by Publius Servilius — to name that man first of 
 the men of consular rank who had died most recently. It was 
 approved of by Quintus Catulus, whose authority will always 
 carry weight in this republic ; it was approved of by the two 
 Luculli, by Marcus Crassus, by Quintus Hortensius, by Caius 
 Curio, by Caius Piso, by Marcus Glabrio, by Marcus Lepidus, 
 by Lucius Volcatius, by Caius Figulus, by Decimus Silanus 
 
 1 Fulvia, who had been the wife of Clodius, and afterward of Curio, 
 was now the wife of Antonius. 
 
304 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and Lucius Murena, who at that time were the consuls elect; 
 the same consulship also which was approved of by those men 
 of consular rank, was approved of by Marcus Cato ; who es- 
 caped many evils by departing from this life, and especially 
 the evil of seeing you consul. But, above all, my consulship 
 was approved of by Cna^us Pompeius, who, when he first saw 
 me, as he was leaving Syria, embracing me and congratulating 
 me, said, that it was owing to my services that he was about 
 to see his country again. But why should I mention individ- 
 uals? It was approved of by the senate, in a very full house, 
 «o completely, that there was no one who did not thank me 
 as if I had been his parent, who did not attribute to me the 
 salvation of his life, of his fortunes, of his children, and of the 
 republic. 
 
 VI. But, since the republic has been now deprived of those 
 men whom I have named, many and illustrious as they were, 
 let us come to the living, since two of the men of consular 
 rank are still left to us: Lucius Cotta, a man of the greatest 
 genius and the most consummate prudence, proposed a sup- 
 plication in my honor for those very actions with which you 
 find fault, in the most complimentary language, and those \ery 
 men of consular rank whom I have named, and the whole sen- 
 ate, adopted his proposal ; an honor which has never been paid 
 to any one else in the garb of peace from the foundation of 
 the city to my time. With what eloquence, with what firm 
 wisdom, with what a weight of authority did Lucius Caesar, 
 your uncle, pronounce his opinion against the husband of his 
 own sister, your step-father. But you, when you ought to have 
 taken him as your adviser and tutor in all your designs, and 
 in the whole conduct of your life, preferred being like your 
 step-father to resembling your uncle. I, who had no connec- 
 tion with him, acted by his counsels while I was consul. Did 
 you, who were his sisters son, ever once consult him on the 
 affairs of the republic'? 
 
 But who are they whom Antonius does consult *? O ye im- 
 mortal gods, they are men whose birth-days we have still to 
 learn. To-day Antonius is not coming down. Why ! He is 
 celebrating the birth-day feast at his villa. In whose honor? 
 I will name no one. Suppose it is in honor of some Lhormio, 
 or Gnatho, or even Ballio. 1 Oh the abominable profligacy 
 of the man ! oh how intolerable is his impudence, his debauch- 
 1 These were the names of slaves 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 305 
 
 eiy, and his lust ! Can you, when you have one of the chiefs 
 of the senate, a citizen of singular virtue, so nearly related to 
 you, abstain from ever consulting him on the affairs of the re- 
 public, and consult men who have no property whatever of 
 their own, and are draining yours? 
 
 VII. Yes, your consulship, forsooth, is a salutary one for 
 the state, mine a mischievous one. Have you so entirely lost 
 all shame as well as all chastity, that you could venture to 
 say this in that temple in which I was consulting that senate 
 which formerly in the full enjoyment of its honors presided 
 over the world? And did you place around it abandoned 
 men armed with swords ? But you have dared besides (what 
 is there which you would not dare?) to say that the Capito- 
 line Hill, when I was consul, was full of armed slaves. I was 
 offering violence to the senate, I suppose, in order to com- 
 pel the adoption of those infamous decrees of the senate. O 
 wretched man, whether those things are not known to you 
 (for you know nothing that is good), or whether they are, 
 when you dare to speak so shamelessly before such men ! For 
 what Roman knight was there, what youth of noble birth ex- 
 cept you, what man of any rank or class who recollected that 
 he was a citizen, who was not on the Capitoline Hill while 
 the senate was assembled in this temple ? who was there, who 
 did not give in his name ? Although there could not be pro- 
 vided checks enough, nor were the books able to contain their 
 names. 
 
 In truth, when wicked men, being compelled by the reve- 
 lations of the accomplices, by their own handwriting, and by 
 what I mav almost call the voices of their letters, were con- 
 fessing that they had planned the parricidal destruction of their 
 country, and that they had agreed to burn the city, to massacre 
 the citizens, to devastate Italy, to destroy the republic ; who 
 could have existed without being roused to defend the com- 
 mon safety? especially when the senate and people of Rome 
 had a leader then ; and if they had one now like he was then, 
 the same fate would befall you which did overtake them. 
 
 He asserts that the body of his step-father was not allowed 
 burial by me. But this is an assertion that was never made 
 by Publius Clodius, a man whom, as I was deservedly an en- 
 emy of his, I grieve now to see surpassed by you in every sort 
 of vice. But how could it occur to you to recall to our rec- 
 ollection that you had been educated in the house of Publius 
 
306 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 o 
 
 Lentulus? Were you afraid that we might think that you 
 could have turned out as infamous as you are by the mere 
 force of nature, if your natural qualities had not been strength- 
 ened by education? 
 
 YIII. But you are so senseless that throughout the whole 
 of your speech you were at variance with yourself i so that 
 you said things which had not only no coherence with each 
 other, but which were most inconsistent with and contradict- 
 ory to one another; so that there was not so much opposition 
 between you and me as there was between vou and vourself. 
 You confessed that your step-father had been implicated in 
 that enormous wickedness, yet you complained that he had had 
 punishment inflicted on him. And by doing fo you praised 
 what was peculiarly my achievement, and blamed that which 
 was wholly the act of the senate. For the detection and ar- 
 rest of the guilty parties was my work, their punishment was 
 the work of the senate. But that eloquent man does not 
 perceive that the man against whom he is speaking is being 
 praised by him, and that those before whom he is speaking 
 are beino- attacked by him. But now what an act, 1 will not ,/ 
 say of audacity (for he is anxious to be audacious), but (and 
 that is what he is not desirous of) what an act of folly, in 
 which he surpasses all men, is it to make mention of the Cap- 
 itoline Hill, at a time when armed men are actually between 
 our benches — when men, armed with swords, are now sta- 
 tioned in this same temple of Concord, O ye immortal gods, 
 in which, while I was consul, opinions most salutary to the 
 state were delivered, owing to which it is that we are all alive 
 at this day. 
 
 1 Accuse the senate; accuse the equestrian body, which at 
 that time was united with the senate ; accuse every order of 
 society, and all the citizens, as long as you confess that this 
 assembly at this very moment is besieged by Ityrcan 1 soldiers. 
 It is not so much a proof of audacity to advance these state- 
 ments so impudently, as of utter want of sense to be unable 
 to see their contradictory nature. For what is more insane 
 than, after you yourself have taken up arms to do mischief to 
 the republic, to reproach another with having taken them up 
 to secure its safety? On one occasion you attempted even to 
 be wittv. O ye good gods, how little did that attempt suit 
 you! And yet you are a little to be blamed for your failure 
 1 Ityra was a town at the foot of Mount Taurus. 
 

 
 THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 307 
 
 in that instance, too. For you might have got some wit from 
 your wife, who was an actress. "Arms to the gown must 
 yield. " Well, have they not yielded? But afterward the 
 gown yielded to your arms. Let us inquire then whether it 
 was better for the arms of wicked men to yield to the free- 
 dom of the Roman people, or that our liberty should yield to 
 your arms. Nor will I make any further reply to you about 
 the verses. I will only say briefly that you do not understand 
 them, nor any other literature whatever. That I have never 
 at any time been wanting to the claims that either the repub- 
 lic or my friends had upon me ; but nevertheless that in all 
 the different sorts of composition on which I have employed 
 myself, during my leisure hours, I have always endeavored to 
 make my labors and my writings such as to be some advant- 
 age to our youth, and some credit to the Roman name. But, 
 however, all this has nothing to do with the present occasion. 
 Let us consider more important matters. 
 
 IX. You have said that Publius Clodius was slain by my 
 contrivance. What would men have thought if he had been 
 slain at the time when you pursued him in the forum with a 
 drawn sword, in the sight of all the Roman people ; and when 
 you would have settled his business if he had not thrown 
 himself up the stairs of a booksellers shop, and, shutting them 
 against you, checked your attack by that means? And I 
 confess that at that time I favored you, but even you yourself 
 do not say that I had advised your attempt. But as for Milo, 
 it was not possible even for me to favor his action. For he 
 had finished the business before any one could suspect that he 
 was going to do it. Oh, but I advised it. I suppose Milo 
 was a man of such a disposition that he was not able to do a 
 service to the republic if he had not some one to advise him 
 to do it. But I rejoiced at it. Well, suppose I did ; was I 
 to be the only sorrowful person in the city, when every one 
 else was in such delight ? Although that inquiry into the 
 death of Publius Clodius was not instituted with any great 
 wisdom. For what was the reason for having a new law to 
 inquire into the conduct of the man who had slain him, when 
 there was a form of inquiry already established by the laws ? 
 However, an inquiry was instituted. And have you now 
 been found, so many years afterward, to say a thing which, 
 at the time that the affair was under discussion, no one ven- 
 tured to say against me? But as to the assertion tnat you 
 
308 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have dared to make, and that at great length too. that it was 
 by my means that Pompeius was alienated from his friendship 
 with Caesar, and that on that account it was my fault that 
 the civil war was originated; in that you have not erred so 
 much in the main facts, as (and that is of the greatest impor- 
 tance) in the times. 
 
 X. When Marcus Bibulus, a most illustrious citizen, was 
 consul, I omitted nothing which I could possibly do or at- 
 tempt to draw off Pompeius from his union with Caesar. In 
 which, however, Caesar was more fortunate than I, for he 
 himself drew off Pompeius from his intimacy with me. But 
 afterward, when Pompeius joined Caasar with all his heart, 
 what could have been my object in attempting to separate 
 them then '? It would have been the part of a fool to hope 
 to. do so, and of an impudent man to advise it. However, 
 two occasions did arise, on which I gave Pompeius advice 
 against Caesar. You are at liberty to find fault with my con- 
 duct on those occasions if you can. One was when I advised 
 him not to continue Caesar's government for five years more. 
 The other, when I advised him not to permit him to be con- 
 sidered as a candidate for the consulship when he was absent. 
 And if I had been able to prevail on him in either of these 
 particulars, we should never have fallen into our present mis- 
 eries. 
 
 Moreover, I also, when Pompeius had now devoted to the 
 service of Caesar all his own power, and all the power of the 
 Poman people, and had begun when it was too late to perceive 
 all those things which I had foreseen long before, and when I 
 saw that a nefarious war was about to be waged against our 
 country, I never ceased to be the adviser of peace, and concord, 
 and some arrangement. And that language of mine was well 
 known to many people, — " I wish, O Cnaeus Pompeius, that 
 you had either never joined in a confederacy with Caius Caesar, 
 or else that you had never broken it off. The one conduct 
 would have become your dignity, and the other would have 
 been suited to your prudence." This, O Marcus Antonius, 
 was at all times my advice both respecting Pompeius and con- 
 cerning the republic. And if it had prevailed, the republic 
 would still be standing, and you would have perished through 
 your own crimes, and indigence, and infamy. 
 
 XI. But these are all old stories now. This charge, how- 
 ever, is quite a modern one, that Caesar was slain by my con- 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 309 
 
 trivance. I am afraid, O conscript fathers, lest I should ap- 
 pear to you to have brought up a sham accuser against myself 
 (which is a most disgraceful thing to do) ; a man not only to 
 distinguish me by the praises which are my due, but to load 
 me also with those which do not belong to me. For who ever 
 heard my name mentioned as an accomplice in that most glo- 
 rious action ? and whose name has been concealed who was 
 in the number of that gallant band? Concealed, do I say? 
 Whose name was there which was not at once made public? 
 I should sooner say that some men had boasted in order to ap- 
 pear to have been concerned in that conspiracy, though they 
 had in reality known nothing of it, than that any one who had 
 been an accomplice in it could have wished to be concealed. 
 Moreover, how likely it is, that among such a number of men, 
 some obscure, some young men who had not the Avit to con. 
 ceal any one, my name could possibly have escaped notice! 
 Indeed, if leaders were wanted for the purpose of delivering 
 the country,, what need was there of my instigating the Bruti, 
 one of whom saw every day in his house the image of Lucius 
 Brutus, and the other saw also the image of Ahala? Were 
 these the men to seek counsel from the ancestors of others 
 rather than from their own ? and out of doors rather than at 
 home ? What 1 Caius Cassius, a man of that family which 
 
 k could not endure, I will not say the domination, but even the 
 power of any individual, — he, I suppose, was in need of me to 
 instigate him? a man who, even without the assistance of 
 these other most illustrious men, would have accomplished this 
 same deed in Cilicia, at the mouth of the river Cydnus, if 
 Gsesar had brought his ships to that bank of the river which 
 he had intended, and not to the opposite one. Was Cnaeus 
 Domitius spurred on to seek to recover his dignity, not by the 
 death of his father, a most illustrious man, nor by the death 
 of his uncle, nor by the deprivation of his own dignity, but 
 by my advice and authority? Did I persuade Caius Tre- 
 bonius ? a man whom I should not have ventured even to ad- 
 vise. On which account the republic owes him even a larger 
 debt of gratitude, because he preferred the liberty of the Ro- 
 man people to the friendship of one man, and because he pre- 
 ferred overthrowing arbitrary power to sharing it. Was I the 
 instigator whom Lucius Tillius Cimber followed ? a man whom 
 I admired for having performed that action, rather than ever 
 expected that he would perform it ; and I admired him on 
 
310 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this account, that he was unmindful of the personal kindness- 
 es which he had received, but mindful of his country. What 
 shall I say of the two Servilii 1 Shall I call them Cascas, or 
 Ahalas? and do you think that those men were instigated by 
 my authority rather than by their affection for the republic? 
 It would take a long time to go through all the rest ; and it 
 is a glorious thing for the republic that they were so numer- 
 ous, and a most honorable thing also for themselves. 
 
 XII. But recollect, I pray you, how that clever man con- 
 victed me of being an accomplice in the business. When Caesar 
 was slain, says he, Marcus Brutus immediately lifted up on high 
 his bloody dagger, and called on Cicero by name ; and con- 
 gratulated him on liberty being recovered. Why on me above 
 all men? Because I knew of it beforehand? Consider rather 
 whether this was not his reason for calling on me, that, when 
 he had performed an action very like those which I myself had 
 done, he called me above all men to witness that he had been 
 an imitator of my exploits. But you, O stupidest of all men. 
 do not you perceive, that if it is a crime to have wished that 
 Caesar should be slain — which you accuse me of having wished 
 — it is a crime also to have rejoiced at his death 1 For what 
 is the difference between a man who has advised an action, and 
 one who has approved of it ? or what does it signify wheth- 
 er I wished it to be done, or rejoice that it has been done? 
 Is there any one then, except you yourself and those men who 
 wished him to become a king, who was unwilling that that 
 deed should be done, or who disapproved of it after it was 
 done 1 All men, therefore, are guilty as far as this goes. In 
 truth, all good men, as far as it depended on them, bore a part 
 in the slaying of Caesar. Some did not know how to contrive 
 it, some had not courage for it, some had no opportunity, — 
 every one had the inclination. 
 
 However, remark the stupidity of this fellow, — I should 
 rather say, of this brute beast. For thus he spoke :+— " Mar* 
 cus Brutus, whom I name to do him honor, holding aloft 
 his bloody dagger, called upon Cicero, from which it must be 
 understood that he was privy to the action.'* Am I then 
 called wicked by you because you suspect that I suspected 
 something; and is he who openly displayed his reeking dag- 
 ger, named by you that you may do him honor? Be it so. 
 Let this stupidity exist in your language: how much greater 
 is it in your actions and opinions ! Arrange matters in this 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 311 
 
 way at last, O consul ; pronounce the cause of the Bruti, of 
 Caius Cassius, of Cnaeus Domitius, of Cains Trebonius" and the 
 rest to be whatever you please to call it : sleep off that intox- 
 ication of yours, sleep it off and Jake breath. Must one ap- 
 ply a torch to you to waken you while you are sleeping over 
 such an important affair? Will you never understand that 
 you have to decide whether those men who performed that 
 action are homicides or assertors of freedom ? 
 
 XIII. For just consider a little; and for a moment think 
 of the business like a sober man. I who, as I myself confess, 
 am an intimate friend of those men, and, as you accuse me, 
 an accomplice of theirs, deny that there is any medium be- 
 tween these alternatives. I confess that they^f they be not 
 deliverers of the Roman people and saviors of the republic, 
 are worse than assassins, worse than homicides, worse even 
 than parricides: since it is a more atrocious thing to murder 
 the father of one's country, than one's own father. You wise 
 and considerate man, what do you say to this 1 If they are 
 parricides, why are they always named by you, both in this 
 assembly and "before the Eoman people, with a view to do 
 them honor'? Why has Marcus Brutus been, on your motion, 
 excused from obedience to the laws, and allowed to be absent 
 from the city more than ten days? 1 Why were the games of 
 Apollo celebrated with incredible honor to Marcus Brutus? 
 why were provinces given to Brutus and Cassius 1 why were 
 quaestors assigned to them? why was the number of their 
 lieutenants augmented? And all these measures were ow- 
 ing to you. They are not homicides then. It follows that in 
 your opinion they are deliverers of their country, since there 
 can be no other alternative. What is the matter? Am I 
 embarrassing you? For perhaps you do not quite understand 
 propositions which are stated disjunctively. Still this is the 
 sum total of my conclusion ; that since they are acquitted by 
 you of wickedness, they are at the same time pronounced 
 most worthy of the very most honorable rewards. 
 
 Therefore, I will now proceed again with my oration. I 
 will write to them, if any one by chance should ask whether 
 what you have imputed to me be true, not to deny it to any 
 one. In truth, I am afraid that it must be considered either 
 
 1 Brutus was the Praetor urbanus this year, and that officer's duty con- 
 fined him to the city ; and he was forbidden by law to be absent more 
 than ten days at a time during his year of office. 
 
hT2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 a not very creditable thing to them, that they should have 
 concealed the fact of my being an accomplice ; or else a most 
 discreditable one to me that I was invited to be one, and that 
 I shirked it. For what greater exploit (I call you to witness, 
 
 august Jupiter!) was ever achieved not only in this city, 
 but in all the earth ? What more glorious action was ever 
 done? What deed was ever more deservedly recommended to 
 the everlasting recollection of men ? Do you, then, shut me 
 up with the other leaders in the partnership in this design, as 
 in the Trojan horse? I have no objection; I even thank you 
 for doing so, with whatever intent you do it. For the deed 
 is so great an one, that I can not compare the unpopularity 
 which you wish to excite against me on account of it, with its 
 real glory. 
 
 > ") For who can be happier than those men Avhom you boast 
 of having now expelled and driven from the eity \ What 
 place is there either so deserted or so uncivilized, as not to 
 seem to greet and to covet the presence of those men wherever 
 they have arrived? What men are so clownish as not, when 
 they have once beheld them, to think that they have reaped 
 the greatest enjoyment that life can give !. And what poster- 
 ity will be ever so forgetful, what literature will ever be found 
 so ungrateful, as not to cherish their glory with undying recol- 
 lection ? Enrol me then, I beg, in the number of those men. 
 XIV. But one thing I am afraid you may not approve of. 
 For if I had really been one of their number, I should have 
 not only got rid of the king, but of the kingly power also out 
 of the republic; and if I had been the author of the piece, as 
 it is said, believe me, I should not have been contented with 
 one act, but should have finished the whole play. Although, 
 if it be a crime to have wished that Csesar might be put to 
 death, beware, I pray you, O Antonius, of what must be your 
 own case, as it is notorious that you, when at Narbo, formed 
 a plan of the same sort with Caius Trebonius ; and it was on 
 account of your participation in that design thai, when Csesar 
 A\as being killed, avc saw you called aside by Trebonius. But 
 
 1 (see Iioav far I am from any horrible inclination toAvard,) 
 j iraise you for having once in your life had a righteous inten- 
 tion ; I return you thanks for not having revealed the matter; 
 and I excuse you for not having accomplished your purpose. 
 That exploit required a man. 
 
 And if any one should institute a prosecution against you. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 313 
 
 and employ that test of old Cassius, " who reaped any advant- 
 age from it V take care, I advise you, lest you suit that de- 
 scription. Although, in truth, that action was, as you used 
 to say, an advantage to every one who was not willing to be 
 a slave, still it was so to you above all men, who are not 
 merely not a slave, but are actually a king ; who delivered 
 yourself from an enormous burden of debt at the temple of 
 Ops; who, by your dealings with the account-books, there 
 squandered a countless sum of money ; who have had such 
 vast treasures brought to you from Caesar's house ; at whose 
 own house there is set up a most lucrative manufactory of 
 false memoranda and autographs, and a most iniquitous mark- 
 et of lands, and towns, and exemptions, and revenues. In 
 truth, what measure except the death of Caesar could possibly 
 have been any relief to your indigent and insolvent condition ? 
 You appear to be somewhat agitated. Have you any secret 
 fear that you yourself may appear to have had some connection 
 with that crime ? I will release you from all apprehension ; 
 no one will ever believe it ; it is not like you to deserve well 
 of the republic ; the most illustrious men in the republic are 
 the authors of that exploit; I only say that you are glad it 
 was done ; I do not accuse you of having done it. 
 
 I have replied to your heaviest accusations, I must now also 
 reply to the rest of them. 
 
 XV. You have thrown in my teeth the camp of Pompeius 
 and all my conduct at that time. At which time, indeed, if, 
 as I have said before, my counsels and my authority had pre- 
 vailed, you would this day be in indigence, we should oe free, 
 and the republic would not have lost so many generals and so 
 many armies. For I confess that, when I saw that-these 
 things certainly would happen, which now have happened, I 
 was as greatly grieved as all the other virtuous citizens would 
 have been if they had foreseen the same things. I did grieve, 
 I did grieve, O conscript fathers, that the republic which had 
 once been saved by your counsels and mine, was fated to perish 
 in a short time. Nor was I so inexperienced in and ignorant 
 of this nature of things, as to be disheartened on account of 
 a fondness for life, which while it endured would wear me out 
 with anguish, and when brought to an end would release me 
 from all trouble. But I was desirous that those most illustri- 
 ous men, the lights of the republic, should live : so many men 
 of consular rank, so many men of praetorian rank, so many 
 
 O 
 
514 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 most honorable senators ; and besides them all the flower of 
 our nobility and of our youth ; and the armies of excellent 
 citizens. And if they were still alive, under ever such hard 
 conditions of peace (for any sort of peace with our fellow- 
 citizens appeared to me more desirable than civil war), we 
 should be still this day enjoying the republic. 
 
 And if my opinion had prevailed, and if those men, the 
 preservation of whose lives was my main object, elated with 
 the hope of victory, had not been my chief opposers, to say 
 nothing of other results, at all events you would never have 
 continued in this order, or rather in this city. But say you, 
 my speech alienated from me the regard of Pompeius ? Was 
 there any one to whom he Avas more attached L ? any one with 
 whom he conversed or shared his counsels more frequently ? 
 It was, indeed, a great thing that we, differing as we did re- 
 specting the general interests of the republic, should continue 
 in uninterrupted friendship. But I saw clearly what his 
 opinions and views were, and he saw mine equally. I was 
 for providing for the safety of the citizens in the first place, 
 in order that we might be able to consult their dignity after- 
 ward, lie thought more of consulting their existing dignity. 
 But because each of us had a definite object to pursue, our 
 disagreement was the more endurable. But what that extra- 
 ordinary and almost godlike man thought of me is known to 
 those men who pursued him to Paphos from the battle of 
 Pharsalia. No mention of me was ever made by him that 
 was not the most honorable that could be, that was not full 
 of the most friendly regret for me ; while he confessed that I 
 had had the most foresight, but that he had had more san- 
 guine hopes. And do you dare taunt me with the name of 
 that man whose friend you admit that I was, and whose as- 
 sassin you confess yourself? 
 
 XVI. However, let us say no more of that war, in which 
 you were too fortunate. I will not reply even with those 
 jests to which you have said that I gave utterance in the 
 camp. That camp was in truth full of anxiety, but although 
 men 1 are in great difficulties, still, provided they are men, they 
 sometimes relax their minds. But the fact that the same 
 man finds fault with my melancholy, and also with my jokes, 
 is a great proof that I was very moderate in each particular. 
 
 You have said that no inheritances come to me. Would 
 ..hat this accusation of yours were a true one; I should havo 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 315 
 
 more of my friends and connections alive. But how could 
 such a charge ever come into your head? For I have re- 
 ceived more than twenty millions of sesterces in inheritances. 
 Although in this particular 1 admit that you have been more 
 fortunate than I. No one has ever made me his heir except 
 he was a friend of mine, in order that my grief of mind for 
 his loss might be accompanied also with some gain, if it was 
 to be considered as such. But a man whom you never even 
 saw, Lucius Eubrius, of Casinum, made you his heir. And 
 see now how much he loved you, who, though he did not 
 know whether you were white or black, passed over the son 
 of his brother, Quintus Fufius, a most honorable Roman 
 knight, and most attached to him, whom he had on all occa- 
 sions openly declared his heir (he never even names him in 
 his will), and he makes you his heir whom he had never seen, 
 or at all events had never spoken to. 
 
 I wish you would tell me, if it is not too much trouble, 
 what sort of countenance Lucius Turselius was of; what sort 
 of height ; from what municipal town he came ; and of what 
 tribe he was a member. "I know nothing." you will say, 
 "about him, except what farms he had." Therefore, he, dis- 
 inheriting his brother, made you his heir. And besides these 
 instances, this man has seized on much other property be- 
 longing to men wholly unconnected with him, to the exclu- 
 sion of the legitimate heirs, as if he himself were the heir. 
 Although the thing that struck me with most astonishment 
 of all was, that you should venture to make mention of in- 
 heritances, when you yourself had not received the inheritance 
 of vour own father. 
 
 XVII. And was it in order to collect all these arguments, 
 O you most senseless of men, that you spent so many days in 
 practicing declamation in another man's villa ! Although, 
 indeed (as your most intimate friends usually say), you are 
 in the habit of declaiming, not for the purpose of whetting 
 your genius, but of working off the effects of wine. And, in- 
 deed, you employ a master to teach you jokes, a man appoint- 
 ed by your own vote and that of your boon companions ; a 
 rhetorician, whom you have allowed to say whatever he 
 pleased against you, a thoroughly facetious gentleman ; but 
 there are plenty of materials for speaking against you and 
 against your friends. But just see now what a difference 
 there is between you and your grandfather. He used with 
 
316 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 great deliberation to bring forth arguments advantageous to 
 the cause he was advocating ; you pour forth in a hurry the 
 sentiments which you have been taught by another. And 
 what wages have you paid this rhetorician ? Listen, listen, 
 
 conscript fathers, and learn the blows which are inflicted 
 on the republic. You have assigned, O Antonius, two thou- 
 sand acres 1 of land, in the Leontine district, to Sextus Clodi- 
 us, the rhetorician, and those, too, exempt from every kind of 
 tax, for the sake of putting the Roman people to such a vast 
 expense that you might learn to be a fool. Was this gift, 
 too, O you most audacious of men, found among Caesar's pa- 
 pers? But I will take another opportunity to speak about 
 the Leontine and the Campanian district; where he has stolen 
 lands from the republic to pollute them with most infamous 
 owners. For now, since I have sufficiently replied to all his 
 charges, I must say a little about our corrector and censor 
 himself. And yet I will not say all I could, in order that if 
 
 1 have often to battle with him I may always come to the 
 contest with fresh arms; and the multitude of his vices and 
 atrocities will easily enable me to do so. 
 
 XVIII. Shall we then examine your conduct from the time 
 when you were a boy? I think so. Let us begin at the be- 
 ginning. Do you recollect that, while you were still clad in 
 the prsetexta, you became a bankrupt ? That was the fault 
 of your father, you will say. I admit that. In truth, such a 
 defense is full of filial affection. But it is peculiarly suited to 
 your own audacity, that you sat among the fourteen rows of 
 the knights, though by the Roscian law there was a place ap- 
 pointed for bankrupts, even if any one had become such by 
 the fault of fortune and not by his own. You assumed the 
 manly gown, which you soon made a womanly one : at first 
 a public prostitute, with a regular price for your wickedness, 
 and that not a low one. But very soon Curio stepped in, who 
 carried you off from your public trade, and, as if he had be- 
 stowed a matron's robe upon you, settled you in a steady and 
 durable wedlock. No boy bought for the gratification of pas- 
 sion was ever so wholly in the power of his master as you were 
 in Curio's. How often has his father turned you out of his 
 
 1 I have translated jugerum " an acre," because it is usually so trans- 
 lated, but in point of fact it was not quite two-thirds of an English acre. 
 At the same time it was nearly three times as largo as the Greek 7rXidpov k 
 which is often translated acre also. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 317 
 
 house 1 How often has he placed guards to prevent you from 
 entering? while you. with night for your accomplice, lust for 
 your encourager, and wages for your compeller, were let down 
 through the roof. That house could no longer endure your 
 wickedness. Do you not know that -I am speaking of matters 
 with which I am thoroughly acquainted? Remember that 
 time when Curio, the father, lay weeping in his bed ; his son 
 throwing himself at my feet with tears recommended to me 
 you ; he entreated me to defend you against his own father, 
 if he demanded six millions of sesterces of you ; for that he 
 had been bail for you to that amount. And he himself, burn- 
 ing with love, declared positively that because he was unable 
 to bear the misery of being separated from you, he should go 
 into banishment. And at that time what misery of that most 
 flourishing family did I allay, or rather did I remove ! I per- 
 suaded the father to pay the son's debts ; to release the young 
 man, endowed as he was with great promise of courage and 
 ability, by the sacrifice of part of his family estate ; and to 
 use his privileges and authority as a father to prohibit him 
 not only from all intimacy with, but from every opportunity 
 of meeting vou. When you recollected that all this was done 
 bv me, would you have dared to provoke me by abuse if you 
 had not been trusting to those swords which we behold 1 
 
 XIX. But let us say no more of your profligacy and de- 
 bauchery. There are things which it is not possible for me 
 to mention with honor ; but you are all the more free for that, 
 inasmuch as you have not scrupled to be an actor in scenes 
 which a modest enemy can not bring himself to mention. 
 
 Mark now, O conscript fathers, the rest of his life, which I 
 will touch upon rapidly. For my inclination hastens to ar- 
 rive at those things which he did in the time of the civil war, 
 amid the greatest miseries of the republic and at those things 
 which he does every day. And I beg of you, though they are 
 far better known to you than they are to me, still to listen at- 
 tentively, as you are doing, to my relation of them. For in 
 such cases as this, it is not the mere knowledge of such actions 
 that ought to excite the mind, but the recollection of them 
 also. Although we must at once go into the middle of them, 
 lest otherwise we should be too long in coming to the end. 
 
 He was very intimate with Clodius at the time of his trib- 
 uneship ; he, w r ho now enumerates the kindnesses which he 
 did me. He was the firebrand to handle all conflagrations,* 
 
318 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and even in his house he attempted something. He himself 
 well knows what I allude to. From thence he made a jour- 
 ney to Alexandria, in defiance of the authority of the senate, 
 and against the interests of the republic, and in spite of re- 
 ligious obstacles; but he had Gabinius for his leader, with 
 whom whatever he did was sure to be right. What were the 
 circumstances of his return from thence % what sort of return 
 was it? He went from Egypt to the farthest extremity of 
 Gaul before he returned home. And what was his homel 
 For at that time every man had possession of his own house ; 
 and you had no house any where, O Antonius. House, do 
 you say? what place was there in the whole world where you 
 could set your foot on any thing that belonged to you, except 
 Mienum, which you farmed with your partners, as if it had 
 been Sisapol 1 
 
 XX. You came from Gaul to stand for the quoestorship. 
 Dare to say that you went to your own father before you 
 came to me. I had already received Ca-sar's letters, begging 
 me to allow myself to accept of your excuses; and therefore, 
 I did not allow you even to mention thanks. After that, I 
 was treated with respect by you, and you received attentions 
 from me in your canvass for the quastorship. And it was at 
 that time, indeed, that you endeavored to slay Publius Clo- 
 dius in the forum, with the approbation of the E<man peo- 
 ple ; and though you made the attempt of your own accord, 
 and not at my instigation, still you clearly alleged that you 
 did not think, unless you slew him, that you could possibly 
 make amends to me for all the injuries which you had done 
 me. And this makes me wonder why you should say that 
 Milo did that deed at my instigation ; when I never once ex- 
 horted you to do it, who of your own accord attempted to do 
 me the same service. Although, if you had persisted in it, I 
 should have preferred allowing the action to be set down en- 
 tirely to your own love of glory rather than to my influence. 
 
 You were elected quasstor. On this, immediately, without 
 any resolution of the senate authorizing such a step, without 
 drawing lots, without procuring any law to be passed, you 
 hastened to C;vsar. For you thought the camp the only ref- 
 uge on earth for indigence, and debt, and profligacy, — for all 
 men, in short, who were in a state of utter ruin. Then, when 
 
 1 Sisapo was a town in Spain, celebrated for some mines of vermilion, 
 which were farmed by a company. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 319 
 
 y<iu nad recruited your resources again by his largesses and 
 your own robberies (if, indeed, a person can be said to re- 
 erui r „ who only acquires something which he may immediate- 
 ly squander), you hastened, being again a beggar, to the trib- 
 uneship, in obder that in that magistracy you might, if possi- 
 ble, behave like vour friend. 
 
 XXI. Listen now, I beseech you, O conscript fathers, not to 
 those things which he did indecently and profligately to his 
 own injury and to his own disgrace as a private individual ; 
 but to the actions which he did impiously and wickedly against 
 us and our fortunes, — that is to say, against the whole repub- 
 lic. For it is from his wickedness that you will find that the 
 beginning of all these evils has arisen. 
 
 For when, in the consulship of Lucius Lentulus and Mar- 
 cus Marcellus, you, on the first of January, were anxious to 
 prop up the republic, which was tottering and almost falling, 
 and were willing 10 consult the interests of Caius Caesar him- 
 self, if he would have acted like a man in his senses, then this 
 fellow opposed to your counsels his tribuneship, which he had 
 sold and handed over to the purchaser, and exposed his own 
 neck to that ax under which many have suffered for smaller 
 crimes. It was against vou. O Marcus Antonius. that the sen- 
 ate, while still in the possession of its rights, before so many of 
 its luminaries were extinguished, passed that decree which, in 
 accordance with the usage of our ancestors, is at times passed 
 against an enemy who is a citizen. And have you dared, be- 
 fore these conscript fathers, to say any thing against me, when 
 I have been pronounced by this order to be the savior of my 
 country, and when you have been declared by it to be an en- 
 emy of the republic? The mention of that wickedness of 
 yours has been interrupted, but the recollection of it has not 
 been effaced. As long as the race of men, as long as the 
 name of the Roman people shall exist (and that, unless it is 
 prevented from being so by your means, will be everlasting), 
 so long will that most mischievous interposition of your veto 
 be spoken of. What was there that was being done by the 
 senate either ambitiously or rashly, when you, one single vouno- 
 man, forbade the whole order to pass decrees concerning the 
 safety of the republic \ and when you did so, not once only, 
 but repeatedly ? nor would you allow any one to plead with 
 you in behalf of the authority of the senate ; and yet, what 
 ^id any one entreat of you, except that you would not desire 
 
320 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the republic to be entirely overthrown and destroyed; when 
 neither the chief men of the state by their entreaties, nor the 
 elders by their warnings, nor the senate in a full house by 
 pleading with you, could move you from the determination 
 which you had already sold and as it were delivered to the 
 purchaser? Then it was, after having tried many other ex- 
 pedients previously, that a blow was of necessity struck at 
 you which had been struck at only few men before you, and 
 which none of them had ever survived. Then it was that 
 this order armed the consuls, and the rest of the magistrates 
 who were invested with either military or civil command, 
 against you, and you never would have escaped them, if you 
 had not taken refuge in the camp of Caesar. 
 
 XXII. It was you, you, I say, O Marcus Antonius, who 
 gave Caius Caesar, desirous as he already was to throw every 
 thing into confusion, the principal pretext for waging war 
 against his country. For what other pretense did he allege ? 
 what cause did he give for his own most frantic resolution 
 and action, except that the power of interposition by the veto 
 had been disregarded, the privileges of the tribunes taken 
 away, and Antonius's rights abridged by the senate? I say 
 nothing of how false, how trivial these pretenses were ; espe- 
 cially when there could not possibly be any reasonable cause 
 whatever to justify any one in taking up arms against his 
 country. But I have nothing to do with Caesar. You must 
 unquestionably allow, that the cause of that ruinous war ex- 
 isted in your person. 
 
 O miserable man if you are aware, more miserable still if 
 you are not aware, that this is recorded in writings, is handed 
 down to men's recollection, that our very latest posterity in 
 the most distant ages will never forget this fact, that the con- 
 suls were expelled from Italy, and with them CnasusPompeius, 
 who was the glory and light of the empire of the Roman peo- 
 ple ; that all the men of consular rank, whose health would 
 allow them to share in that disaster and that flight, and the 
 praetors, and men of praetorian rank, and the tribunes of the 
 people, and a great part of the senate, and all the flower 
 of the youth of the city, and, in a word, the republic itself 
 was driven out and expelled from its abode. As, then, there 
 is in seeds the cause which produces trees and plants, so of 
 this most lamentable war you were the seed. Do you, O 
 conscript fathers, grieve that these armies o^ the Roman peo» 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 321 
 
 pie have been slain? It is Antonius who slew them. Do 
 you regret your most illustrious citizens? It is Antonius, 
 again, who has deprived you of them. The authority of this 
 order is overthrown ; it is Antonius who has overthrown it. 
 Every thing, in short, which we have seen since that time 
 (and what misfortune is there that we have not seen?) we 
 shall, if we argue rightly, attribute wholly to Antonius. As 
 Helen was to the Trojans, so has that man been to this repub- 
 lic, — the cause of war, the cause of mischief, the cause of ruin. 
 The rest of his tribuneship was like the beginning. He did 
 every thing which the senate had labored to prevent, as being 
 impossible to be done consistently with the safety of the re- 
 public. And see, now, how gratuitously wicked he was even 
 in accomplishing his wickedness. 
 
 XXIII. He restored many men who had fallen under mis- 
 fortune. Among them no mention was made of his uncle. 
 If he was severe, why was he not so to every one ? If he was 
 merciful, why was he not merciful to his own relations? But 
 I sav nothing of the rest. He restored Licinius Lenticula, 
 a man who had been condemned for gambling, and who was a 
 fellow-gamester of his own. As if he could not play with a 
 condemned man ; but in reality, in order to pay by a strain- 
 ing of the law in his favor, what he had lost by the dice. 
 What reason did you allege to the Eoman people why it was 
 desirable that he should be restored ? 1 suppose you said that 
 he was absent when the prosecution was instituted against 
 him; that the cause was decided without his having been 
 heard in his defense ; that there was not by a law any judicial 
 proceeding established with reference to gambling ; that he 
 had been put down by violence or by arms ; or lastly, as was 
 said in the case of your uncle, that the tribunal had been 
 bribed with money. Nothing of this sort was said. Then 
 he was a good man, and one worthy of the republic. That, 
 indeed, would have been nothing to the purpose, but still, 
 since being condemned does not go for much, I would forgive 
 you if that were the truth. Does not he restore to the full 
 possession of his former privileges the most worthless man 
 possible, — one who would not hesitate to play at dice even in 
 the forum, and who had been convicted under the law which 
 exists respecting gambling, — does not he declare in the most 
 open manner his own propensities *? 
 
 Then in this same tribuneship, when Cassar while on his 
 
 02 
 
322 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 way into Spain had given him Italy to trample on, what 
 journeys did lie make in every direction ! how did he visit 
 the municipal towns! I know that I am only speaking of 
 matters which have been discussed in every one's conversa- 
 tion, and that the things which I am saying and am going to 
 say are better known to every one who was in Italy at that 
 time, than to me, who was not. Still I mention the particu- 
 lars of his conduct, although my speech can not possibly come 
 up to your own personal knowledge. When was such wick- 
 edness ever heard of as existing upon earth 1 or shameless- 
 ness ? or such open infamy ? 
 
 XXIV. The tribune of the people was borne along in a 
 chariot, lictors crowned with laurel preceded him ; among 
 whom, on an open litter, was carried an actress ; whom hon- 
 orable men, citizens of the different municipalities, coming 
 out from their towns under compulsion to meet him, saluted 
 not by the name by which she was well known on the stage, 
 but by that of Volumnia. 1 A car followed full of pimps; 
 then a lot of debauched companions ; and then his mother, 
 utterly neglected, followed the mistress of her profligate son, 
 as if she had been her dau<jhter-in-law. O the disastrous fe- 
 cundity of that miserable woman ! With the marks of such 
 wickedness as this did that fellow stamp every municipality, 
 and prefecture, and colony, and, in short, the whole of Italy. 
 
 To find fault with the rest of his actions, O conscript fa- 
 thers, is difficult, and somewhat unsafe. He was occupied in 
 war ; he glutted himself with the slaughter of citizens who 
 bore no resemblance to himself. He was fortunate — if at 
 least there can be any good fortune in wickedness. But since 
 we wish to show a regard for the veterans, although the cause 
 of the soldiers is very different from yours ; they followed 
 their chief; you went to seek for a leader; still (that I may 
 not give you any pretense for stirring up odium against me 
 among them), I will say nothing of the nature of the war. 
 
 When victorious, you returned with the legions from Thes- 
 saly to Brundusium. There you did not put me to death. 
 It was a great kindness ! For I confess that you could have 
 done it. Although there was no one of those men who were 
 
 1 She was a courtesan who had been enfranchised by her master Vo- 
 lumnius. The name of Volumnia was doar to the Romans as that of 
 the wife of Coriolauus, to whose entreaties he had yie'ded when he drev 
 oil' his army from the neighborhood of Rome. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC 323 
 
 with you at that time, who did not think that I ought to be 
 spared. For so great is men's affection for their country, that 
 I was sacred even in the eyes of your legions, because they 
 recollected that the country had been saved by me. How- 
 ever, grant that you did give me what you did not take away 
 from me ; and that I have my life as a present from you, 
 since it was not taken from me by you ; was it possible for 
 me, after all your insults, to regard that kindness of yours as 
 I regarded it at first, especially after you saw that you must 
 hear this reply from me? 
 
 XXY. You came to Brundusium, to the bosom and em- 
 braces of your actress. What is the matter ? Am I speak- 
 ing falsely? How miserable is it not to be able to deny a 
 fact which it is disgraceful to confess! If you had no shame 
 before the municipal towns, had you none even before your 
 veteran army? For what soldier was there who did not see 
 her at Brundusium ? who was there who did not know that 
 she had come so many days' journey to congratulate you? who 
 was there who did not grieve that he was so late in finding 
 out how worthless a man he had been following ? 
 
 Again vou made a tour through Italy, with that same act- 
 ress for your companion. Cruel and miserable was the way 
 in which you led your soldiers into the towns ; shameful was 
 the pillage in every city, of gold and silver, and above all, of 
 wine. And besides all this, while Caesar knew nothing about 
 it, as he was at Alexandria, Antonius, by the kindness of Cae- 
 sar's friends, was appointed his master of the horse. Then 
 he thought that he could live with Hippia 1 by virtue of his 
 office, and that he might give horses which were the proper- 
 ty of the state to Sergius the buffoon. At that time he had 
 {elected for himself to live in, not the house which he now 
 dishonors, but that of Marcus Piso. Why need I mention 
 his decrees, his robberies, the possessions of inheritances which 
 were given him, and those too which were seized by him? 
 Want compelled him ; he did not know where to turn. That 
 great inheritance from Lucius Rubrius, and that other from 
 Lucius Turselius, had not yet come to him. He had not yet 
 succeeded as an unexpected heir to the place of Cngeus Pora- 
 peius, and of many others who were absent. He was forced 
 to live like a robber, having nothing beyond what he could 
 plunder from others. 
 
 1 This is a play on the name Hippia, as derived from lizizoq, a horse. 
 
324 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 However, we will say nothing of these things, which are 
 acts of a more hardy sort of villainy. Let us speak rather of 
 his meaner descriptions of worthlessness. You, with those 
 jaws of yours, and those sides of yours, and that strength of 
 body suited to a gladiator, drank such quantities of wine at 
 the marriage of Ilippia, that you were forced to vomit the 
 next day in the sight of the Koman people. O action dis- 
 graceful not merely to see, but even to hear of! If this had 
 happened to you at supper amid those vast drinking-cups of 
 yours, who would not have thought it scandalous? But in an 
 assembly of the Eoman people, a man holding a public office, 
 a master of the horse, to whom it would have been disgrace- 
 ful even to belch, vomiting filled his own bosom and the whole 
 tribunal with fragments of what he had been eating reeking 
 with wine. But he himself confesses this among his other dis- 
 graceful acts. Let us proceed to his more splendid offenses. 
 
 - XXVI. Ca?sar came back from Alexandria, fortunate, as 
 he seemed at least to himself; but in my opinion no one can 
 be fortunate who is unfortunate for the republic. The spear 
 was set up in front of the temple of Jupiter St at or, and the 
 property of Cr.ieus Pompeius Magnus — (miserable that I am, 
 for even now that my tears have ceased to flow, my grief re- 
 mains deeply implanted in my heart), — -the property, I say, 
 of Cnseus Pompeius the Great was submitted to the pitiless 
 voice of the auctioneer. On that one occasion the state for- 
 got its slavery, and groaned aloud ; and though men's minds 
 were enslaved, as every thing was kept under by fear, still the 
 groans of the Eoman people were free. While all men were 
 waiting to see who would be so impious, who would be so 
 mad, who would be so declared an enemy to gods and to men 
 as to dare to mix himself up with that wicked auction, no one 
 was found except Antonius, even though there were plenty of 
 men collected round that spear 1 who would have dared any 
 thing else. One man alone was found to dare to do that which 
 the audacity of every one else had shrunk from and shuddered 
 at. Were you, then, seized with such stupidity, — or, I should 
 rather say, with such insanity, — as not to see that if you, be- 
 ing of the rank in which you were born, acted as a broker at 
 all, and above all as a broker in the case of Pompeius' s prop- 
 
 1 The custom of erecting a spear wherever an auction was h*ld is well 
 known ; it is said to have arisen from the ancient practice of selling un- 
 der a spear the hooty acquired in war. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 325 
 
 erty, you would be execrated and hated by the Roman people, 
 and that all gods and all men must at once become and for- 
 ever continue hostile to you'? But with what violence did 
 that glutton immediately proceed to take possession of the 
 property of that man, to whose valor it had been owing that 
 the Roman people had been more terrible to foreign nations, 
 while his justice had made it dearer to them. 
 
 XXVII. When, therefore, this fellow had begun to wallow 
 in the treasures of that great man, he began to exult like a 
 buffoon in a play, who has lately been a beggar, and has be- 
 come suddenly rich. But, as some poet or other says, — 
 
 " Ill-gotten gains come quickly to an end." 
 
 It is an incredible thing, and almost a miracle, how he in a 
 few, not months, but days, squandered all that vast wealth. 
 There was an immense quantity of wine, an excessive abund- 
 ance of very valuable plate, much precious apparel, great quan- 
 tities of splendid furniture, and other magnificent things in 
 many places, such as one was likely to see belonging to a man 
 who was not indeed luxurious, but who was very wealthy. 
 Of all this in a few days there was nothing left. What Cha- 
 rybdis was ever so voracious? Charybdis, do I say? Cha- 
 rvbdis, if she existed at all, was only one animal. The ocean, 
 I swear most solemnly, appears scarcely capable of having 
 swallowed up such numbers of things so widely scattered, and 
 distributed in such different places, with such rapidity. No- 
 thing was shut up, nothing sealed up, no list was made of 
 anv thins;. Whole storehouses were abandoned to the most 
 worthless of men. Actors seized on this, actresses on that ; 
 the house was crowded with gamblers, and full of drunken 
 men ; people were drinking all day, and that too in many 
 places ; there were added to all this expense (for this fellow 
 was not invariably fortunate) heavy gambling losses. You 
 might see in the cellars of the slaves, couches covered with 
 the most richly embroidered counterpanes of Cnreus Pompei- 
 us. Wonder not, then, that all these things were so soon con- 
 sumed. Such profligacy as that could have devoured not only 
 the patrimony of one individual, however ample it might have 
 been (as indeed his was), but whole cities and kingdoms. 
 
 And then his houses and gardens ! Oh the cruel audacity ! 
 Did vou dare to enter into that house? Did you dare to cross 
 that most sacred threshold ? and to show your most profligate 
 
326 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 countenance to the household gods who protect that abode % 
 A house which for a long time no one could behold, no one 
 could pass by without tears ! Are you not ashamed to dwell 
 so long in that house ? one in which, stupid and ignorant as 
 you are, still you can see nothing which is not painful to you. 
 I yS XXVIII. When you behold those beaks of ships in the ves- 
 tibule, and those warlike trophies, do you fancy that you are 
 entering into a house which belongs to you ! It is impossi- 
 ble. Although you are devoid of all sense and all feeling, — as 
 in truth you are, — still you are acquainted with yourself, and 
 with your trophies, and with your friends. Nor do I believe 
 that you, either waking or sleeping, can ever act with quiet 
 sense. It is impossible but that, were you ever so drunk and 
 frantic, — as in truth you are, — when the recollection of the 
 appearance of that illustrious man comes across you, you 
 should be roused from sleep by your fears, and often stirred 
 up to madness if awake. I pity even the walls and the roof. 
 For what had that house ever beheld except what was modest, 
 except what proceeded from the purest principles and from the 
 most virtuous practice'? For that man was, O conscript fa- 
 thers, as you yourselves know, not only illustrious abroad, but 
 also admirable at home ; and not more praiseworthy for his 
 exploits in foreign countries, than for his domestic arrange- 
 ments. Now in his house every bedchamber is a brothel, 
 and every dining-room a cookshop. Although he denies this : 
 — Do not, do not make inquiries. He is become economical. 
 He desired that mistress of his to take possession of whatever 
 belonged to her, according to the laws of the Twelve Tables. 
 He has taken his keys from her, and turned her out of doors. 
 What a well-tried citizen ! of what proved virtue is he ! the 
 most honorable passage in whose life is the one when he di- 
 vorced himself from this actress. 
 
 But how constantly does he harp on the expression " the 
 consul Antonius !" This amounts to say." that most debauch- 
 ed consul," " that most worthless of men, the consul." For 
 what else is Antonius 1 ? For if any dignity were implied in 
 the name, then, I imagine, your grandfather would sometimes 
 have called himself "the consul Antonius." But he never 
 did. My colleague too, your own uncle, would have called 
 himself so. Unless you are the only Antonius. But I pass 
 over those offenses which have no peculiar connection with 
 the part you took in harassing the republic ; I return to that 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 327 
 
 in which you bore so principal a share, — that is, to the civil 
 war; and it is mainly owing to you that that was originated, 
 and brought to a head, and carried on. 
 
 XXIX. Though you yourself took no personal share in it, 
 partly through timidity, partly through profligacy, you had 
 tasted, or rather had sucked in, the blood of fellow-citizens : 
 you had been in the battle of Pharsalia as a leader ; you had 
 slain Lucius Domitius, a most illustrious and high-born man ; 
 you had pursued and put to death in the most barbarous man- 
 ner many men who had escaped from the battle, and whom 
 Caesar would perhaps have saved, as he did some others. 
 
 And after having performed these exploits, what was the 
 reason why you did not follow Caesar into Africa ; especially 
 when so large a portion of the war was still remaining 1 And 
 accordingly, what place did you obtain about Caesar's person 
 after his return from Africa? What was your rank? He 
 whose quaestor you had been when general, whose master of 
 the horse when he was dictator, to whom you had been the 
 chief cause of war, the chief instigator of cruelty, the sharer 
 of his plunder, his son, as you yourself said, by inheritance, 
 proceeded against vou for the monev which you owed for the 
 house and gardens, and for the other property which you had 
 bought at that sale. At first you answered fiercely enough ; 
 and that I may not appear prejudiced against you in every 
 particular, you used a tolerably just and reasonable argument. 
 " What, does Cains Caesar demand money of me 1 why should 
 he do so, any more than I should claim it of him 1 Was he 
 victorious without my assistance ? Xo ; and he never could 
 have been. It was I who supplied him with a pretext for 
 civil war ; it was I who proposed mischievous laws ; it was I 
 who took up arms against the consuls and generals of the Bo- 
 man people, against the senate and people of Rome, against 
 the gods of the country, against its altars and hearths, against 
 the country itself. Has he conquered for himself alone? 
 Why should not those men whose common work the achieve- 
 ment is, have the booty also in common?" You were only 
 claiming your right, but what had that to do with it ! He 
 was the more powerful of the two. 
 
 Therefore, stopping all your expostulations, he sent his sol- 
 diers to vou, and to vour sureties ; when all on a sudden out 
 came that splendid catalogue of yours. How men did laugh ! 
 That there should be so vast a catalogue, that there should 
 
328 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 be such a numerous and various list of possessions, of all of 
 which, with the exception of a portion of Misenum, there was 
 nothing which the man who was putting them up to sale 
 could call his own. And what a miserable sight was the 
 auction. A little apparel of Pompeius's, and that stained; 
 a few silver vessels belonging to the same man, all battered ; 
 some slaves in wretched condition ; so that we grieved that 
 there was any thing remaining to be seen of these miserable 
 relics. This auction, however, the heirs of Lucius Kubrius 
 prevented from proceeding, being armed with a decree of Cae- 
 sar to that effect. The spendthrift was embarrassed. He 
 did not know which way to turn. It was at this very time 
 that an assassin sent by him was said to have been detected 
 with a dagger in the house of Caesar. And of this Caesar 
 himself complained in the senate, inveighing openly against 
 you. Caesar departs to Spain, having granted you a few days 
 delay for making the payment, on account of your poverty. 
 Even then you do not follow him. Had so good a gladiator 
 as you retired from business so early? Can any one then 
 fear a man who was as timid as this man in upholding his 
 party, that is, in upholding his own fortunes? 
 
 XXX. After some time he at last went into Spain ; but, as 
 he says, he could not arrive there in safety. How then did 
 Dolabella manage to arrive there? Either, O Antonius, that 
 cause ought never to have been undertaken, or when you had 
 undertaken it, it should have been maintained to the end. 
 Thrice did Caesar fight against his fellow-citizens ; in Thessa- 
 ly, in Africa, and in Spain. Dolabella was present at all 
 these battles. In the battle in Spain he even received a 
 wound. If you ask my opinion, I wish he had not been 
 there. But still, if his design at first was blamable, his con- 
 sistency and firmness were praiseworthy. But what shall 
 we say of you % In the first place, the children of Cnseus 
 Pompeius sought to be restored to their country. Well, this 
 concerned the common interests of the whole party. Besides 
 that, they sought to recover their household gods, the gods of 
 their country, their altars, their hearths, the tutelar gods of 
 their family ; all of which you had seized upon. And when 
 they sought to recover those tilings by force of arms which 
 belonged to them by the laws, who was it most natural (al- 
 though in unjust and unnatural proceedings what can there 
 be that is natural?) — still, who was it most natural to expect 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 329 
 
 would fight against the children of Cnasus Pompeius ? Who ? 
 Why, you who had bought their property. Were you at 
 Narbo to be sick over the tables of your entertainers, while 
 Dolabella was fighting your battles in Spain ! 
 
 And what return was that of yours from Narbo 1 lie 
 even asked why I had returned so suddenly from my expedi- 
 tion. I have just briefly explained to you, O conscript fa- 
 thers, the reason of my return. I was desirous, if I could, to 
 be of service to the republic even before the first of January. 
 For, as to your question, how I had returned; in the first 
 place, I returned by daylight, not in the dark ; in the second 
 place, I returned in shoes, and in my Eoman gown, not in 
 any Gallic slippers, or barbarian mantle. And even now 
 you keep looking at me ; and, as it seems, with great anger. 
 Surely you would be reconciled to me if you knew how 
 ashamed I am of your worthlessness, which you yourself are 
 not ashamed of. Of all the profligate conduct of all the world, 
 I never saw, I never heard of any more shameful than yours. 
 You, who fancied yourself a master of the horse, when you 
 were standing for, or I should rather say begging for the con- 
 sulship for the ensuing year, ran in Gallic slippers and a bar- 
 barian mantle about the municipal towns and colonies of 
 Gaul, from which we used to demand the consulship when 
 the consulship was stood for and not begged for. 
 
 XXXI. But mark now the trifling character of the fellow. 
 When about the tenth hour of the day he had arrived at Red 
 Rocks, he skulked into a little petty wine-shop, and, hiding 
 there, kept on drinking till evening. And from thence get- 
 ting into a gig and being driven rapidly to the city, he came 
 to his own house with his head vailed. " Who are you ?" 
 says the porter. " An express from Marcus." He is at once 
 taken to the woman for whose sake he had come ; and he 
 delivered the letter to her. And when she had read it with 
 tears (for it was written in a very amorous style, but the 
 main subject of the letter was that he would have nothing to 
 do with that actress for the future ; that he had discarded all 
 his love for her, and transferred it to his correspondent), when 
 she, I say, wept plentifully, this soft-hearted man could bear 
 it no longer ; he uncovered his head and threw himself on her 
 neck. Oh the worthless man (for what else can I call him % 
 there is no more suitable expression for me to use) ! was it for 
 this that you disturbed the city by nocturnal alarms, -ind 
 
330 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Italy with fears of many days' duration, in order that you 
 might show yourself unexpectedly, and that a woman might 
 see you before she hoped to do so"? And he had at home a 
 pretense of love ; but out of doors a cause more discreditable 
 still, namely, lest Lucius Plancus should sell up his sureties. 
 But after you had been produced in the assembly by one of 
 the tribunes of the people, and had replied that you bad come 
 on your own private business, you made even the people full 
 of jokes against you. But, however, we have said too much 
 about trifles. Let us come to more important subjects. 
 
 XXXII. You went a great distance to meet Caesar on his 
 return from Spain. You went rapidly, you returned rapid- 
 ly, in order that we might see that, if you were not brave, 
 you were at least active. You again became intimate with 
 him ; I am sure I do not know how. Gaesar had this pe- 
 culiar characteristic ; whoever he knew to be utterly ruined 
 by debt, and needy, even if he knew him also to be an auda- 
 cious and worthless man, he willingly admitted him to his in- 
 timacy. You then, being admirably recommended to him by 
 these circumstances, were ordered to be appointed consul, and 
 that too as his own colleague. I do not make any complaint 
 against Dolabella, who was at that time acting under com- 
 pulsion, and was cajoled and deceived. But who is there who 
 does not know with what great perfidy both of you treated 
 Dolabella in that business 1 Caesar induced him to stand for 
 the consulship. After having promised it to him, and pledged 
 himself to aid him, he prevented his getting it, and transferred 
 it to himself. And you endorsed his treachery with your own 
 eagerness. 
 
 The first of January arrives. We are convened in the 
 senate. Dolabella inveighed against him with much more 
 fluency and premeditation than I am doing now. And what 
 things were they which he said in his anger, O ye good gods! 
 First of all, after Caesar had declared that before he departed 
 he would order Dolabella to be made consul (and they deny 
 that he was a king who was always doing and saying some- 
 thing of this sort), — but after Caesar had said this, then this 
 virtuous augur said that he was invested with a pontificate of 
 that sort that he was able, by means of the auspices, either to 
 hinder or to vitiate the comitia, just as he pleased; and he 
 declared that he would do so. And here, in the first place, 
 remark the incredible stupidity of the man. For what do 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC 331 
 
 you mean ? Could you not just as well have done what you 
 said you had now the power to do by the privileges with 
 which that pontificate had invested you, even if you were not 
 an augur, if you were consul ? Perhaps you could even do it 
 more easily. For we augurs have only the power of announ- 
 cing that the auspices are being observed, but the consuls and 
 other magistrates have the right also of observing them when- 
 ever they choose. Be it so. You said this out of ignorance. 
 For one must not demand prudence from a man who is never 
 sober. But still remark his impudence. Many months before, 
 he said in the senate that he would either prevent the comitia 
 from assembling for the election of Dolabella by means of the 
 auspices, or that he would do what he actually did do. Can 
 any one divine beforehand what defect there will be in the 
 auspices, except the man who has already determined to ob- 
 serve the heavens'? which in the first place it is forbidden by 
 law to do at the time of the comitia. And if any one has 
 been observing the heavens, he is bound to give notice of it, 
 not after the comitia are assembled, but before thev are held. 
 But this man's ignorance is joined to impudence, nor does he 
 know what an augur ought to know, nor do what a modest 
 man ought to do. And just recollect the whole of his conduct 
 during his consulship from that day up to the ides of March. 
 What lictor was ever so humble, so abiect? Pie himself had 
 no power at all ; he begged every thing of others ; and thrust- 
 ing his head into the hind part of his litter, he begged favors 
 of his colleagues, to sell them himself afterward. 
 
 XXXIII. Behold, the day of the comitia for the election 
 of Dolabella arrives. The prerogative centurv draws its lot. 
 
 L CD J 
 
 He is quiet. The vote is declared ; he is still silent. The 
 first class is called. 1 Its vote is declared. Then, as is the 
 usual course, the votes are announced. Then the second class. 
 And all this is done faster than I have told it. When the 
 business is over, that excellent augur (you would say he must 
 be Caius Ladius) says, — "We adjourn it to another dav.' v 
 Oh the monstrous impudence of such a proceeding ! What 
 had you seen % what had you perceived 1 what had you heard ? 
 For you did not say that you had been observing the heavens, 
 and indeed you do not say so this day. That defect then has 
 arisen, which you on the first of January had already fore- 
 
 1 There seems some corruption here. Orellius apparently thinks the 
 case hopeless. 
 
332 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 seen would arise, and which you had predicted so long before. 
 Therefore, in truth, you have made a false declaration respect- 
 ing the auspices, to your own great misfortune, I hope, rather 
 than to that of the republic. You laid the Roman people 
 under the obligations of religion ; you as augur interrupted 
 an augur ; you as consul interrupted a consul by a false dec- 
 laration concerning the auspices. 
 yM, I will say no more, lest I should seem to be pulling to 
 pieces the acts of Dolabella ; which must inevitably some- 
 time or other be brought before our college. But take notice 
 of the arrogance and insolence of the fellow. As long as you 
 please, Dolabella is a consul irregularly elected ; again, while 
 you please, he is a consul elected with all proper regard to 
 the auspices. If it means nothing when an augur gives this 
 notice in those words in which you gave notice, then confess 
 that you, when you said, — " We adjourn this to another 
 day," were not sober. But if those words have any meaning, 
 then I, an augur, demand of my colleague to know what that 
 
 meaning is. 
 
 But lest by any chance, while enumerating his numerous 
 exploits, our speech should pass over the finest action of Mar- 
 cus Antonius, let us come to the Lupcrealia. 
 
 XXXIV. He does not dissemble, O conscript fathers ; it is 
 plain that he is agitated ; he perspires ; he turns pale. Let 
 him do what he pleases, provided he is not sick, and does not 
 behave as he did in the Minucian colonnade. What defense 
 can be made for such beastly behavior'? I wish to hear, that 
 I may see the fruit of those high wages of that rhetorician, of 
 that land given in Leontini. Your colleague was sitting in 
 the rostra, clothed in purple robe, on a golden chair, wearing 
 a crown. You mount the steps; you approach his chair (if 
 you were a priest of Pan, you ought to have recollected that 
 you were consul too) ; you display a diadem. There is a 
 groan over the whole forum. Where did the diadem come 
 from ? For you had not picked it up when lying on the 
 ground, but you had brought it from home with you. a pre- 
 meditated and deliberately planned wickedness. You placed 
 the diadem on hie head amidst the groans of the people; lie re- 
 jected it amidst great applause. You then alone, () wicked 
 man, were found, both to advise the assumption of kingly 
 power, and to wish to have him for your master who was 
 your colleague ; and also to try what the Roman people might 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 333 
 
 be able to bear and to endure. Moreover, you even sought 
 to move his pity ; you threw yourself at his feet as a suppli- 
 ant ; begging for what 1 to be a slave "? You might beg it 
 for yourself, when you had lived in such a way from the time 
 that you were a boy that you could bear every thing, and 
 would find no difficulty in being a slave ; but certainly you 
 had no commission from the Uoman people to try for such a 
 thing for them. 
 
 Oh how splendid was that eloquence of yours, when you 
 harangued the people stark naked ! What could be more 
 foul than this 1 more shameful than this? more deserving of 
 every sort of punishment 1 Are you waiting for me to prick 
 you more \ This that I am saying must tear you and bring 
 blood enough, if you have any feeling at all. I am afraid that 
 I may be detracting from the glory of some most eminent men. 
 Still my indignation shall find a voice. What can be more 
 scandalous than for that man to live who placed a diadem on 
 a man's head, when every one confesses that that man was 
 deservedly slain who rejected it % And, moreover, he caused 
 it to be recorded in the annals, under the head of Lupercalia, 
 " That Marcus Antonius, the consul, by command of the peo- 
 ple, had offered the kingdom to Caius Caesar, perpetual dicta- 
 tor ; and that Cagsar had refused to accept it." I now am 
 not much surprised at your seeking to disturb the general 
 tranquillity ; at your hating not only the city but the light of 
 day ; and at your living with a pack of abandoned robbers, 
 disregarding the day, and yet regarding nothing beyond the 
 day. 1 For where can you be safe in peace ! What place 
 can there be for you where laws and courts of justice have 
 sway, both of which you, as far as in you lay, destroyed by 
 the substitution of kingly power % Was it for this that Lu- 
 cius Tarquinius was driven out ; that Spurius Cassius, and 
 Spurius Maelius, and Marcus Manlius were slain ; that many 
 years afterward a king might be established at Rome by Mar- 
 cus Antonius, though the bare idea was impiety ! However, 
 let us return to the auspices. 
 
 XXXV. With respect to all the things which Caesar was 
 
 1 The Latin is, "non solum de die. sed etiam in diem, vivere ;" which the 
 commentators explain, " De die is to feast every day and all day. Ban- 
 quets de die are those which begin before the regular hour." (Like Hor- 
 ace's Partem solido demere de die.) " To live in diem U t<t h>e so as to 
 have no thought for the future." — Graevius. 
 
334 C.CERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 intending to do in the senate on the ides of March, I ask 
 whether you have done any thing ? I heard, indeed, that you 
 had come down prepared, because you thought that I intended 
 to speak about your having made a false statement respecting 
 the auspices, though it was still necessary for us to respect 
 them. The fortune of the Roman people saved us from that 
 day. Did the death of Caesar also put an end to your opinion 
 respecting the auspices? But I have come to mention that 
 occasion which must be allowed to precede those matters 
 which I had begun to discuss. What a flight was that of 
 yours ! What alarm was yours on that memorable day ! 
 How, from the consciousness of your wickedness, did you de- 
 spair of your life ! How, while flying, were you enabled se- 
 cretly to get home by the kindness of those men who wished 
 to save you, thinking you would show more sense than you 
 do ! O how vain have at all times been my too true predic- 
 tions of the future ! I told those deliverers of ours in the 
 Capitol, when they wished me to go to you to exhort you to 
 defend the republic, that as long as you were in fear you would 
 promise every thing, but that as soon as you had emancipated 
 yourself from alarm you would be yourself again. Therefore, 
 while the rest of the men of consular rank were going back- 
 ward and forward to you, I adhered to my opinion, nor did 
 I see you at all that day, or the next ; nor did I think it pos- 
 sible for an alliance between virtuous citizens and a most un- 
 principled enemy to be made, so as to last, by any treaty or 
 engagement whatever. The third day I came into the tem- 
 ple of Tellus, even then very much against my will, as armed 
 men were blockading all the approaches. What a day was 
 that for you, O Marcus Antonius! Although you showed 
 yourself all on a sudden an enemy to me ; still I pity you for 
 having envied yourself. 
 
 XXXVL What a man, O ye immortal gods ! and how 
 great a man might you have been, if you had been able to 
 preserve the inclination you displayed that day ; — we should 
 still have peace which was made then by the pledge of a hos- 
 tage, a boy of noble birth, the grandson of Marcus Bam bali o. 
 Although it was fear that was then making you a good citizen, 
 which is never a lasting teacher of duty ; your own audacity, 
 which never departs from you as long as you are free from 
 fear, has made you a worthless one. Although even at that 
 time, when they thought you an excellent man, though I in- 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 835 
 
 deed differed from that opinion, you behaved with the greatest 
 wickedness while presiding at the funeral of the tyrant, if that 
 ought to be called a funeral. All that fine panegyric was 
 yours, that commiseration was yours, that exhortation was 
 yours. It was you — you, I say — who hurled those firebrands, 
 both those with which your friend himself was nearly burned, 
 and those by which the house of Lucius Bellienus was set en 
 fire and destroyed. It was you who let loose those attacks of 
 abandoned men, slaves for the most part, which we repelled by 
 violence and our own personal exertions ; it was you who set 
 them on to attack our houses. And yet you, as if you had 
 wiped off all the soot and smoke in the ensuing days, carried 
 those excellent resolutions in the Capitol, that no document 
 conferring any exemption, or granting any favor, should be 
 published after the ides of March. You recollect yourself, 
 what you said about the exiles; you know what you said 
 about the exemption ; but the best thing of all was, that you 
 forever abolished the name of the dictatorship in the republic. 
 Which act appeared to show that you had conceived such a 
 hatred of kingly power that you took away all fear of it for 
 the future, on account of him who had been the last dictator. 
 
 To other men the republic now seemed established, but it 
 did not appear so at all to me, as I was afraid of every sort 
 of shipwreck, as long as you were at the helm. Have I been 
 deceived ? or, was it possible for that man long to continue 
 unlike himself? While you were all looking on, documents 
 were fixed up over the whole Capitol, and exemptions were 
 being sold, not merely to individuals, but to entire states. The 
 freedom of the city was also being given now not to single 
 persons only, but to whole provinces. Therefore, if these acts 
 are to stand, — and stand they can not if the republic stands 
 too, — then, O conscript fathers, you have lost whole provin- 
 ces ; and not the revenues only, but the actual empire of the 
 Roman people has been diminished by a market this man 
 held in his own house. 
 
 XXXVII. "Where are the seven hundred millions of ses- 
 terces which were entered in the account-books which are in 
 the temple of Ops ! a sum lamentable indeed, as to the means 
 by which it was procured, but still one which, if it were not 
 restored to those to whom it belonged, might save us from 
 taxes. And how was it, that when you owed forty millions 
 of sesterces on the fifteenth of March, you had ceased to owe 
 
333 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 them by the first of April? Those things are quite countless 
 which were purchased of different people, not without your 
 knowledge ; but there was one excellent decree posted up in 
 the Capitol affecting king Deiotarus, a most devoted friend 
 to the Roman people. And when that decree was posted up, 
 there was no one who, amid all his indignation, could restrain 
 his laughter. For who ever was a more bitter enemy to an- 
 other than Caesar was to Deiotarus % He was as hostile to 
 him as he was to this order, to the equestrian order, to the 
 people of Massilia, and to all men whom he knew to look on 
 the republic of the Roman people with attachment. But this 
 man, who neither present nor absent could ever obtain from 
 him any favor or justice while he was alive, became quite an 
 influential man with him when he was dead. When present 
 with him in his house he had called for him though he was 
 his host, he had made him give in his accounts of his reven- 
 ue, he had exacted money from him ; he had established one 
 of his Greek retainers in his tetrarchy, and he had taken Ar- 
 menia from him, which had been given to him by the senate. 
 While he was alive he deprived him of all these things ; now 
 that he is dead, he gives them back again. And in what 
 words'? At one time he says, "that it appears to him to be 
 just, . . ." at another, "that it appears not to be unjust. . . ." 
 What a strange combination of words ! But while alive (I 
 know this, for I always supported Deiotarus, who was at a 
 distance), he never said that any thing which we were ask- 
 ing for, for him, appeared just to him. A bond for ten mill- 
 ions of sesterces was entered into in the women's apartment 
 (where many things have been sold, and are still being sold), 
 by his embassadors, well-meaning men, but timid and inexpe- 
 rienced in business, without my advice or that of the rest of 
 the hereditary friends of the monarch. And I advise you to 
 consider carefully what you intend to do with reference to 
 this bond. For the king himself, of his own accord, without 
 waiting for any of Caesar's memoranda, the moment that he 
 heard of his death,, recovered his own rights by his own cour- 
 age and energy. He, like a wise man, knew that this was 
 always the law, that those men from whom the things which 
 tyrants had taken away had been taken, might recover them 
 when the tyrants were slain. No lawyer, then fore, not even 
 he who is your lawyer and yours alone, and by whose advice 
 you do all these things, will say that any thing is due to you 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 337 
 
 by virtue of that bond for those things which had been recov- 
 ered before that bond was executed. For he did not purchase 
 them of you ; but, before you undertook to sell him his own 
 property, he had taken possession of it. He was a man — we, 
 indeed, deserve to be despised, who hate the author of the ac- 
 tions, but uphold the actions themselves. 
 
 XXXVIII. Why need I mention the countless mass of pa- 
 pers, the innumerable autographs which have been brought for- 
 ward ? writings of which there are imitators who sell their for- 
 geries as openly as if they were gladiators' play-bills. There- 
 fore, there are now such heaps of money piled up in that 
 man's house, that it is weighed out instead of being counted. 1 
 But how blind is avarice ! Lately, too, a document has been 
 posted up by which the most wealthy cities of the Cretans 
 are released from tribute ; and by which it is ordained that 
 after the expiration of the consulship of Marcus Brutus, 
 Crete shall cease to be a province. Are you in your senses ! 
 Ought you not to be put in confinement? Was it possible 
 for there really to be a decree of Caesar's exempting Crete 
 after the departure of Marcus Brutus, when Brutus had no 
 connection whatever with Crete while Caesar was alive ? But 
 by the sale of this decree (that you may not, O conscript 
 fathers, think it wholly ineffectual) you have lost the province 
 of Crete. There was nothing in the whole world which any 
 one wanted to buy that this fellow was not ready to sell. 
 
 Caesar too, I suppose, made the law about the exiles which 
 you have posted up. I do not wish to press upon any one in 
 misfortune ; I only complain, in the first place, that the return 
 of those men has had discredit thrown upon it, whose cause 
 Caesar judged to be different from that of the rest ; and in the 
 second place, I do not know why you do not mete out the 
 same measure to all. For there can not be more than three 
 or four left. Why do not they who are in similar misfortune 
 enjoy a similar degree of your mercy? Why do you treat 
 them as you treated your uncle % about whom you refused to 
 pass a law when you were passing one about all the rest ; and 
 whom at the same time you encouraged to stand for the cen- 
 sorship, and instigated him to a canvass, which excited the rid- 
 icule and the complaint of every one. 
 
 But why did you not hold that comitia? Was it because 
 
 1 This accidental resemblance to the incident in the " Forty Thieves" 
 In the " Arabian Nights" i6 curious. 
 
 P 
 
338 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 a tribune ot the people announced that there had been an ill- 
 omened Hash of lightning seen ? When you have any interest 
 of your own to serve, then auspices are all nothing ; but when 
 it is only your friends who are concerned, then you become 
 scrupulous. "What more? Did you not also desert him in 
 the matter of the septemvirate t 1 "Yes, for he interfered with 
 me." What were you afraid of? I suppose you were afraid 
 that you would be able to refuse him nothing if he were re- 
 stored to the full possession of his rights. You loaded him 
 with every species of insult, a man whom you ought to have 
 considered in the place of a father to you, if you had had any 
 piety or natural affection at all. You put away his daughter, 
 your own cousin, having already looked out and provided 
 yourself beforehand with another. That was not enough. 
 You accused a most chaste woman of misconduct. What can 
 go beyond this ? Yet you were not content with this. In a 
 very full senate held on the first of January, while your uncle 
 was present, you dared to say that this was your reason for 
 hatred of Dolabella, that you had ascertained that he had 
 committed adultery with your cousin and your wife. Who 
 can decide whether it was more shameless of you to make 
 such profligate and such impious statements against that un- 
 happy woman in the senate, or more wicked to make them 
 against Dolabella, or more scandalous to make them in the 
 presence of her father, or more cruel to make them at all ? 
 
 XXXIX. However, let us return to the subject of Caesars 
 written papers. How were they verified by you ? For the 
 acts of Caesar were for peace's sake confirmed by the senate ; 
 that is to say, the acts which Caesar had really done, not those 
 which Antonius said that Caesar had done. Where do all 
 these come from ? By whom are they produced and vouched 
 for? If they are false, why are they ratified? If they are 
 true, why are they sold ? But the vote which was come to 
 enjoined you, after the first of June, to make an examination 
 of Caesar's acts with the assistance of a council. What coun- 
 cil did you consult ? whom did you ever invite to help you ? 
 
 1 The scptemviri, at full length septemviri cpuloncs or cpulonum, were 
 originally triumviri. They were first created b. c. 198, to attend to the 
 epulum Jovis, and the banquets given in honor of the other gods, which 
 duty had originally belonged to the pontificcs. Julius Csesar added three 
 more, but that alteration did not last. They formed a collegium, and were 
 one of the four great religious corporations at Rome with the pontificcs, 
 the augurcs, and the qui/idcccmviri. Smith, Diet. Ant. v. Epuloncs. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 339 
 
 what was the first of June that you waited for ! Was it that 
 day on which you, having traveled all through the colonies 
 where the veterans were settled, returned escorted by a band 
 of armed men ! 
 
 Oli what a splendid progress of yours was that in the 
 months of April and May, when you attempted even to lead 
 a colony to Capua ! How you made your escape from thence, 
 or rather how you barely made your escape, we all know. 
 And now you are still threatening that city. I wish you 
 would try, and we should not then be forced to say " barely." 
 However, what a splendid progress of yours that was ! Why 
 need I mention your preparations for banquets, why your fran- 
 tic hard drinking ! Those things are only an injury to your- 
 self; these are injuries to us. We thought that a great blow 
 was inflicted on the republic when the Campanian district was 
 released from the payment of taxes, in order to be given to 
 the soldiery ; but you have divided it among your partners in 
 drunkenness and gambling. I tell you, O conscript fathers, 
 that a lot of buffoons and actresses have been settled in the 
 district of Campania. Why should I now complain of what 
 has been done in the district of Leontini? Although for- 
 merly these lands of Campania and Leontini were considered 
 part of the patrimony of the Roman people, and were produc- 
 tive of great revenue, and very fertile. You gave your phy-^ 
 sician three thousand acres ; what would you have done if he 
 had cured you ? and two thousand to your master of oratory ; 
 what would you have done if he had been able to make you 
 eloquent ? However, let us return to your progress, and to 
 Italy. 
 
 XL. You led a colony to Casilinum, a place to which Cae- 
 sar had previously led one. You did indeed consult me by 
 letter about the colony of Capua (but I should have given you 
 the same answer about Casilinum), whether you could legally 
 lead a new colony to a place where there was a colony already. 
 I said that a new colony could not be legally conducted to an 
 existing colony, which had been established with a due observ- 
 ance of the auspices, as long as it remained in a flourishing 
 state ; but I wrote you word that new colonists might be en- 
 rolled among the old ones. But you, elated and insolent, dis- 
 regarding all the respect due to the auspices, led a colony to 
 Casilinum, whither one had been previously led a few years 
 before ; in order to erect your standard there, and to mark out 
 
340 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the line of the new colony with a plow. And by that plow 
 you almost grazed the gate of Capua, so as to diminish the 
 territory of that nourishing colony. After this violation of 
 all religious observances, you hasten off to the estate of Marcus 
 Varro, a most conscientious and upright man, at Casinum. 
 By what right? with what face do you do this? By just the 
 same, you will say, as that by which you entered on the estates 
 of the heirs of Lucius Rubrius, or of the heirs of Lucius Tur- 
 selius, or on other innumerable possessions. If you got the 
 right from any auction, let the auction have all the force to 
 which it is entitled ; let writings be of force, provided they are 
 the writings of Caesar, and not your own ; writings by which 
 you are bound, not those by which you have released yourself 
 from obligation. 
 
 But who says that the estate of Varro at Casinum was ever 
 sold at all ? who ever saw any notice of that auction 1 who 
 ever heard the voice of the auctioneer ? You say that you 
 sent a man to Alexandria to buy it of Caesar. It was too 
 long to wait for Caesar himself to come ! But who ever heard 
 (and there was no man about whose safety more people were 
 anxious) that any part whatever of Varro's property had been 
 confiscated % What 1 what shall we say if Caesar even wrote 
 you that you were to give it up? What can be said strong 
 enough for such enormous impudence? Remove for a while 
 those swords which we see around us. You shall now see 
 that the cause of Caesar's auctions is one thing, and that of 
 your confidence and rashness is another. For not only shall 
 the owner drive you from that estate, but any one of his 
 friends, or neighbors, or hereditary connections, and any agent, 
 will have the right to do so. 
 
 XLI. But how many days did he spend reveling in the 
 most scandalous manner in that villa ! From the third hour 
 there was one scene of drinking, gambling, and vomiting. 
 Alas for the unhappy house itself! how different a master from 
 its former one has it fallen to the share of! Although, how 
 is he the master at all ? but still by how different a person has 
 it been occupied ! For Marcus Varro used it as a place of re- 
 tirement for his studies, not as a theatre for his lusts. What 
 noble discussions used to take place in that villa! what ideas 
 were originated there! what writings were composed there! 
 The laws of the Roman people, the memorials of our ances- 
 tors, the consideration of all wisdom and all learning, were 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 341 
 
 the topics that used to be dwelt on then ; — but now, while 
 you were the intruder there (for I will not call you the mas- 
 ter), every place was resounding with the voices of drunken 
 men ; the pavements were floating with wine ; the walls were 
 dripping ; nobly-born boys were mixing with the basest hire- 
 lings ; prostitutes with mothers of families. Men came from 
 Casinum, from Aquinum, from Interamna to salute him. No 
 one was admitted. That, indeed, was proper. For the or- 
 dinary marks of respect were unsuited to the most profligate 
 of men. When going from thence to Rome he approached 
 Aquinum, a pretty numerous company (for it is a populous 
 municipality) came out to meet him. But he was carried 
 through the town in a covered litter, as if he had been dead. 
 The people of Aquinum acted foolishly, no doubt ; but still 
 they were in his road. "What did the people of Anagnia do ? 
 who, although thev were out of his line of road, came down 
 to meet him, in order to pay him their respects, as if he were 
 consul. It is an incredible thing to say, but still it was only 
 too notorious at the time, that he returned nobody's saluta- 
 tion ; especially as he had two men of Anagnia with him, 
 Mustela and Laco ; one of whom had the care of his swords, 
 and the other of his drinking-cups. 
 
 Why should I mention the threats and insults with which 
 he inveighed against the people of Teanum Sidicinum, with 
 which he harassed the men of Puteoli, because they had 
 adopted Caius Cassius and the Bruti as their patrons? a 
 choice dictated, in truth, by great wisdom, and great zeal, 
 benevolence, and affection for them ; not by violence and 
 force of arms, by which men have been compelled to choose 
 you, and Basilus, and others like you both, — men whom no 
 'one would choose to have for his own clients, much less to 
 be their client himself. 
 
 XLII. In the mean time, while you yourself were absent, - 
 what a day was that for your colleague when he overturned *V 
 that tomb in the forum, which you were accustomed to re- 
 gard with veneration ! And when that action was announced 
 to you, you — as is agreed upon by all who were with you at 
 the time — fainted away. What happened afterward I know 
 not. I imagine that terror and arms got the mastery. At 
 all events, you dragged your colleague down from his heaven ; 
 and you rendered him, not even now like yourself, at all events 
 verv unlike his own former self. 
 
342 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 After that what a return was that of yours to Rome! 
 How great was the agitation of the whole city ! We recol- 
 lected Cinna being too powerful ; after him we had seen Syl- 
 la with absolute authority, and we had lately beheld Caesar 
 acting as king. There were perhaps swords, but they were 
 sheathed, and they were not very numerous. But how great 
 and how barbaric a procession is yours ! Men follow you in 
 battle array with drawn swords ; we see whole litters full of 
 shields borne along. And yet by custom, O conscript fathers, 
 we have become inured and callous to these things. When 
 on the first of June we wished to come to the senate, as it had 
 been ordained, we were suddenly frightened and forced to flee. 
 But he, as having no need of a senate, did not miss any of 
 us, and rather rejoiced at our departure, and immediately 
 proceeded to those marvelous exploits of his. He who had 
 defended the memoranda of Caesar for the sake of his own 
 profit, overturned the laws of Caesar — and good laws too — 
 for the sake of being able to agitate the republic. He in- 
 creased the number of years that magistrates were to enjoy 
 their provinces ; moreover, though he was bound to be the 
 defender of the acts of Caesar, he rescinded them both with 
 reference to public and private transactions. 
 
 In public transactions nothing is more authoritative than 
 law ; in private affairs the most valid of all deeds is a will. 
 Of the laws, some he abolished without giving the least notice; 
 others he gave notice of bills to abolish. Wills he annulled ; 
 though they have been at all times held sacred even in the 
 case of the very meanest of the citizens. As for the statues 
 and pictures which Caesar bequeathed to the people, together 
 with his gardens, those he carried away, some to the house 
 which belonged to Pompeius, and some to Scipio's villa. 
 
 XLIII. And are you then diligent in doing honor to Cae- 
 sar's memory 1 Do you love him even now that he is dead ? 
 What greater honor had he obtained than that of having a 
 i holy cushion, an image, a temple, and a priest? As then 
 Jupiter, and Mars, and Quirinus have priests, so Marcus An- 
 tonius is the priest of the god Julius. Why then do you de- 
 lay ? why are not you inaugurated ? Choose a day ; select 
 some one to inaugurate you ; we are colleagues ; no one will 
 refuse. O you detestable man, whether you are the priest of 
 a tyrant, or of a dead man ! I ask you then, whether you are 
 ignorant what day this is? Are you ignorant that yesterday 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 343 
 
 was the fourth day of the Roman games in the Circus? and 
 that you yourself submitted a motion to the people, that a 
 fifth day should be added besides, in honor of Caesar ? Why 
 are we not all clad in the praetexta f Why are we permit- 
 ting the honor which by your law was appointed for Caesar 
 to be deserted ? Had you no objection to so holy a day being 
 polluted by the addition of supplications, while you did not 
 choose it to be so by the addition of ceremonies connected 
 with a sacred cushion? Either take away religion in every 
 case, or preserve it in every case. 
 
 You will ask whether I approve of his having a sacred 
 cushion, a temple and a priest ? I approve of none of those 
 things. But you, who are defending the acts of Caesar, what 
 reason can you give for defending some, and disregarding 
 others 1 unless, indeed, you choose to admit that you measure 
 every thing by your own gain, and not by his dignity. What 
 will you now reply to these arguments (for I am waiting to 
 witness your eloquence ; I knew your grandfather, who was a 
 most eloquent man, but I know you to be a more undisguised 
 speaker than he was ; he never harangued the people naked ; 
 but we have seen your breast, man, without disguise as you 
 are)? Will you make any reply to these statements? will you 
 dare to open your mouth at all? Can you find one single 
 article in this long speech of mine, to which you trust that 
 you can make any answer? However, we will say no more 
 of what is past. 
 
 XLIV. But this single day, this very day that now is, this 
 very moment while I am speaking, defend your conduct dur- 
 ing this very moment, if you can. Why has the senate been 
 surrounded with a belt of armed men ? Why are your satel- 
 lites listening to me sword in hand ? Why are not the fold- 
 ing-doors of the temple of Concord open ? Why do you bring 
 men of all nations the most barbarous, Ityreans, armed with 
 arrows, into the forum ? He says, that he does so as a guard. 
 Is it not then better to perish a thousand times than to be 
 unable to live in one's own city without a guard of armed 
 men? But believe me, there is no protection in that; — a 
 man must be defended by the affection and good-will of his 
 fellow-citizens, not by arms. The Roman people will take 
 them from you, will wrest them from your hands ; I wish that 
 they may do so while we are still safe. But however you 
 troat us, as long as you adopt those counsels, it is impossible 
 
344 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 for you, believe me, to last long. In truth, that wife of yours, 
 who is so far removed from covetousness, and whom I men- 
 tion without intending any slight to her, has been too long 
 owing 1 her third payment to the state. The Roman people 
 has men to whom it ean intrust the helm of the state ; and 
 wherever they are, there is all the defense of the republic, 
 or rather, there is the republic itself; which as yet has only 
 avenged, but has not re-established itself. Truly and surely 
 has the republic most high-born youths ready to defend it, — 
 though they may for a time keep in the background from a 
 desire for tranquillity, still they can be recalled by the repub- 
 lic at any time. 
 
 The name of peace is sweet, the thing itself is most salutary. 
 But between peace and slavery there is a wide difference. 
 Peace is liberty in tranquillity; slavery is the worst of all 
 evils, — to be repelled, if need be, not only by war, but even by 
 death. But if those deliverers of ours have taken themselves 
 away out of our sight, still they have left behind the example 
 of their conduct. They have done what no one else had done. 
 Brutus pursued Tarquinius with war ; who was a king when 
 it was lawful for a king to exist in Rome. Spurius Cassias, 
 Spurius Melius, and Marcus Manlius were all slain because 
 they were suspected of aiming at regal power. These are the 
 first men who have ever ventured to attack, sword in hand, a 
 man who was not aiming at regal power, but actually reigning. 
 And their action is not only of itself a glorious and godlike 
 exploit, but it is also one put forth for our imitation ; espe- 
 cially since by it they have acquired such glory as appears 
 hardly to be bounded by heaven itself. For although in the 
 veiy consciousness of a glorious action there is a certain re- 
 ward, still I do not consider immortality of glory a thing to be 
 despised by one who is himself mortal. 
 
 XLY. Recollect then, O Marcus Antonius, that day on 
 which you abolished the dictatorship. Set before you the joy 
 of the senate and people of Rome; compare it with this in- 
 famous market held by you and by your friends ; and then you 
 will understand how great is the difference between praise and 
 profit. But in truth, just as some people, through some dis- 
 ease which has blunted the senses, have no conception of the 
 niceness of food, so men who are lustful, avaricious, and 
 
 1 It has been explained before that Fuhia bad been the widow of 
 Clodius and of Curio, before she married Antonius. 
 
THE SECOND PHILIPPIC. 345 
 
 criminal, have no taste for true glory. But if praise can not 
 allure you to act rightly, still can not even fear turn you 
 away from the most shameful actions? You are not afraid 
 of the courts of j ustice. If it is because you are innocent, I 
 praise you ; if because you trust in your power of overbear- 
 ing them by violence, are you ignorant of what that man has 
 to fear, who on such an account as that does not fear the 
 courts of justice? 
 
 But if you are not afraid of brave men and illustrious citi- 
 zens, because they are prevented from attacking you by your 
 armed retinue, still, believe me, your own fellows will not long 
 endure you. And what a life is it, day and night to be fear- 
 ing danger from one's own people ! Unless, indeed, you have 
 men who are bound to you by greater kindnesses than some of 
 those men by whom he was slain were bound to Caesar ; or un- 
 less there are points in which you can be compared with him. 
 
 In that man were combined genius, method, memory, lit- 
 erature, prudence, deliberation, and industry. He had per- 
 formed exploits in war which, though calamitous for the re- 
 public, were nevertheless mighty deeds. Having for many 
 years aimed at being a king, he had with great labor, and 
 much personal clanger, accomplished what he intended. He 
 had conciliated the ignorant multitude by presents, by monu- 
 ments, by largesses of food, and by banquets; he had bound 
 his own party to him by rewards, his adversaries by the ap- 
 pearances of clemency. Why need I say much on such a sub- 
 ject ? He had already brought a free city, partly by fear, part- 
 ly by patience, into a habit of slavery. 
 
 XL VI. With him I can, indeed, compare you as to your J'£ 
 desire to reign ; but in all other respects you are in no degree 
 to be compared to him. But from the many evils which by 
 him have been burned into the republic, there is still this good, 
 that the Roman people has now learned how much to believe 
 every one, to whom to trust itself, and against whom to guard. 
 Do you never think on these things ? And do you not under- 
 stand that it is enough for brave men to have learned how no- 
 ble a thing it is as to the act, how grateful it is as to the ben- 
 efit done, how glorious as to the fame acquired, to slay a ty- 
 rant % When men could not bear him, do you think they will 
 bear you ? Believe me, the time will come when men will race 
 with one another to do this deed, and when no one will wait 
 for the tardy arrival of an opportunity. 
 
 P2 
 
34G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Consider, I beg you, Marcus Antonius, do some time or oth- 
 er consider the republic : think of the family of which you 
 are born, not of the men with whom you are living. Be rec- 
 onciled to the republic. However, do you decide on your con- 
 duct. As to mine, I myself will declare what that shall be. I 
 defended the republic as a young man, I will not abandon it 
 now that I am old. I scorned the sword of Catiline, I will 
 not quail before yours. No, I will rather cheerfully expose 
 my own person, if the liberty of the city can be restored by 
 my death. 
 
 May the indignation of the Roman people at last bring forth 
 what it has been so long laboring with. In truth, if twenty 
 years ago in this very temple I asserted that death could not 
 come prematurely upon a man of consular rank, with how 
 much more truth must I now say the same of an old man *? 
 To me, indeed, O conscript fathers, death is now even desira- 
 ble, after all the honors which I have gained, and the deeds 
 which I have done. I only pray for these two things : one, 
 that dying I may leave the Roman people free. No greater 
 boon than this can be granted me by the immortal gods. The 
 other, that every one may meet with a fate suitable to his de- 
 serts and conduct toward the republic. 
 
 THE THIRD PHILIPPIC, OR THIRD SPEECH OF M. T. CICERO 
 AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. a t 
 
 ID' 
 
 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. *^ 
 
 After the composition of the last speech, Octavius, considering that he 
 had reason to be offended with Antonius, formed a plot for his assas- 
 sination by means of some slaves, which however was discovered. In 
 the mean time, Antonius began to declare more and more openly 
 against the conspirators. He erected a statue in the forum to Caesar, 
 with the inscription, " To the most worthy Defender of his Country." 
 Octavius, at the same time, was trying to win over the soldiers of his 
 uncle Julius, and outbidding Antonius in all his promises to them, so 
 that he soon collected a formidable army of veterans. But as he had 
 no public office to give him any color for his conduct, he paid great 
 court to the republican party, in hopes to get his proceedings author- 
 ized by the senate ; and he kept continually pressing Cicero to return 
 to Rome and support him. Cicero, however, for some time kept aloofj 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 347 
 
 suspecting partly his abilities, on account of his exceeding youth, and 
 partly his sincerity in reconciling himself to his uncle's murderers ; 
 however, at last he returned, after expressly stipulating that Octavius 
 should employ ail his forces in defense of Brutus and his accomplices. 
 
 Antonius left Rome about the end of September, in order to engage in his 
 service four legions of Caesar's, which were on their return from Mace- 
 donia. But when they arrived at Brundusium three of them refused to 
 follow him, on which he murdered all their centurions, to the number 
 of three hundred, who were all put to death in his lodgings, in the 
 sight of himself and Fulvia his wife, and then returned to Rome with 
 the one legion which he had prevailed on ; while the other three le- 
 gions declared as yet for neither party. On his arrival in Rome he 
 published many very violent edicts, and summoned the senate to meet 
 on the twenty-fourth of October ; then he adjourned it to the twenty- 
 eighth ; and a day or two before it met, he heard that two out of the 
 three legions had declared for Octavius, and encamped at Alba. And 
 this news alarmed him so much, that he abandoned his intention of 
 proposing to the senate a decree to declare Octavius a public enemy, 
 and after distributing some provinces among his friends, he put on his 
 military robes, and left the city to take possession of Cisalpine Gaul, 
 which had been assigned to him by a pretended law of the people, 
 ajjainst the will of the senate. 
 
 On the news of his departure Cicero returned to Rome, where he arrived 
 on the ninth of December. He immediately conferred with Pansa, one 
 of the consuls elect (Hirtius his colleague was ill), as to the measures 
 to be taken. He was again addressed with earnest solicitations by the 
 friends of Octavius, who, to confirm his belief in his good intentions, 
 allowed Casca, who had been of the slayers of Caesar, and had himself 
 given him the first blow, to enter on his office as tribune of the people 
 on the tenth of December. 
 
 The new tribunes convoked the senate for the nineteenth ; on which oc- 
 casion Cicero had intended to be absent ; but receiving the day before 
 the edict of Decimus Brutus, by which he forbade Antonius to enter 
 his province (immediately after the death of Caesar he had taken pos- 
 session of Cisalpine Gaul, which had been conferred on him by Caesar), 
 and declared that he would defend it against him by force, and preserve 
 it in its duty to the senate, he thought it necessary to procure for Bru- 
 tus a resolution of the senate in his favor. He went down therefore 
 very early, and, in a very full house, delivered the following speech. 
 
 I. We have been assembled at length, O conscript fathers, 
 altogether later than the necessities of the republic required ; 
 but still we are assembled ; a measure which I, indeed, have 
 been every day demanding; inasmuch as I saw that a nefa- 
 rious war against our altars and our hearths, against our 
 lives and our fortunes, was, I will not say being prepared, 
 but being actually waged by a profligate and desperate man. 
 People are waiting for the first of January. But Antonius 
 is not waiting for that day, who is now attempting with an 
 army to invade the province of Decimus Brutus, a most 
 
348 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 illustrious and excellent man. And when he has procured 
 reinforcements and equipments there, he threatens that he 
 will come to this city. What is the use then of waiting, or 
 of even a delay for the very shortest time ? For although the 
 first of January is at hand, still a short time is a long one for 
 people who are not prepared. For a day, or I should rather 
 eay an hour, often brings great disasters, if no precautions 
 are taken. And it is not usual to wait for a fixed day for 
 holding a council, as it is for celebrating a festival. But if 
 the first of January had fallen on the day when Antonius 
 first fled from the city, or if people had not waited for it, 
 we should by this time have no war at all. For we should 
 easily have crushed the audacity of that frantic man by the 
 authority of the senate and the unanimity of the Roman 
 people. And now, indeed, I feel confident that the consuls 
 elect will do so, as soon as they enter on their magistracy. 
 For they are men of the highest courage, of the most con- 
 summate wisdom, and they will act in perfect harmony with 
 each other. But my exhortations to rapid and instant action 
 are prompted by a desire not merely for victory, but for 
 speedy victory. 
 
 For how long are we to trust to the prudence of an individ- 
 .ual to repel so important, so cruel, and so nefarious a war? 
 Why is not the public authority thrown into the scale as 
 quickly as possible ? 
 
 II. Caius Caesar, a young man, or, I should rather say, 
 almost a boy, endued with an incredible and godlike degree 
 of wisdom and valor, at the time when the phrensy of Anto- 
 nius was at its height, and when his cruel and mischievous 
 return from Brundusium was an object of apprehension to 
 all, while we neither desired him to do so, nor thought of 
 such a measure, nor ventured even to wish it (because it did 
 not seem practicable), collected a most trustworthy army from 
 the invincible body of veteran soldiers, and has spent his own 
 patrimony in doing so. Although I have not used the expres- 
 sion which I ought, — for he has not spent it, — he has invest- 
 ed it in the safety of the republic. 
 
 And although it is not possible to requite him with all the 
 thanks to which he" is entitled, still we ought to feel all the 
 gratitude toward him which our minds are capable of con- 
 ceiving. For who is so ignorant of public affairs, so entirely 
 indifferent to all thoughts of the republic, as not to see that, 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 349 
 
 if Marcus Antonius could have come with those forces which 
 he made sure that he should have, from Brundusium to Rome, 
 as he threatened, there would have been no description of 
 cruelty which he would not have practiced? A man who in 
 the house of his entertainer at Brundusium ordered so many 
 most gallant men and virtuous citizens to be murdered, and 
 whose wife's face was notoriously besprinkled with the blood 
 of men dying at his and her feet. "VVho is there of us, or 
 what eood man is there at all, whom a man stained with this 
 barbarity would ever have spared ; especially as he was com- 
 ing hither much more angry with all virtuous men than he had 
 been with those whom he had massacred there? And from 
 this calamity Caesar has delivered the republic by his own in- 
 dividual prudence (and, indeed, there were no other means by 
 which it could have been done). And if he had not been born 
 in this republic we should, owing to the wickedness of Anto- 
 nius, now have no republic at all. 
 
 For this is what I believe, this is my deliberate opinion, 
 that if that one young man had not checked the violence and 
 inhuman projects of that frantic man, the republic would have 
 been utterly destroyed. And to him we must, O conscript 
 fathers (for this is the first time, met in such a condition, that, 
 owing to his good service, we are at liberty to say freely w r hat 
 we think and feel), we must, I say, this day give authority, so 
 that he may be able to defend the republic, not because that 
 defense has been voluntarily undertaken by him, but also be- 
 cause it has been intrusted to him by us. 
 
 III. Nor (since now after a long interval we are allowed to 
 speak concerning the republic) is it possible for us to be silent 
 about the Martial legion. For what single man has ever 
 been braver, what single man has ever been more devoted to 
 the republic than the whole of the Martial legion ? which, as 
 soon as it had decided that Marcus Antonius was an enemv of 
 the Roman people, refused to be a companion of his insanity ; 
 deserted him though consul ; which, in truth, it would not 
 have done if it had considered him as consul, who, as it saw, 
 was aiming at nothing and preparing nothing but the slaugh- 
 ter of the citizens, and the destruction of the state. And that 
 legion has encamped at Alba. What city could it have se- 
 lected either more suitable for enabling it to act, or more faith- 
 ful, or full of more gallant men, or of citizens more devoted to 
 the republic? 
 
350 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 The fourth legion, imitating the virtue of this legion, uiid< r 
 the leadership of Lucius Egnatuleius, the quaestor, a most vir- 
 tuous and intrepid citizen, has also acknowledged the author- 
 ity and joined the army of Caius Caesar. 
 
 We, therefore, O conscript fathers, must take care that 
 those things which this most illustrious young man, this most 
 excellent of all men has of his own accord done, and still is 
 doing, be sanctioned by our authority ; and the admirable 
 unanimity of the veterans, those most brave men, and of the 
 Martial and of the fourth legion, in their zeal for the re-estab- 
 lishment of the republic, be encouraged by our praise and 
 commendation. And let us pledge ourselves this day that 
 their advantage, and honors, and rewards shall be cared for 
 by us as soon as the consuls elect have entered on their mag- 
 istracy. 
 
 IV. And the things which I have said about Caesar and 
 about his army, are, indeed, already well known to you. For 
 by the admirable valor of Caesar, and by the firmness of the 
 veteran soldiers, and by the admirable discernment of those 
 legions which have followed our authority, and the liberty of 
 the Roman people, and the valor of Caesar, Antonius has 
 been repelled from his attempts upon our lives. But these 
 things, as I have said, happened before ; but this recent edict 
 of Decimus Brutus, which has just been issued, can certainly 
 not be passed over in silence. For he promises to preserve 
 the province of Gaul in obedience to the senate and people of 
 Rome. O citizen, born for the republic; mindful of the name 
 he bears ; imitator of his ancestors ! Nor, indeed, was the 
 acquisition of liberty so much an object of desire to our an- 
 cestors when Tarquinius was expelled, as, now that Antonius 
 is driven away, the preservation of it is to us. Those men 
 had learned to obey kings ever since the foundation of the 
 city, but we from the time when the kings were driven out 
 have forgotten how to be slaves. And that Tarquinius, whom 
 our ancestors expelled, was not either considered or called 
 cruel or impious, but only The Proud. That vice which we 
 have often borne in private individuals, our ancestors could 
 not endure even in a king. 
 
 Lucius Brutus could not endure a proud king. Shall Deci- 
 mus Brutus submit to the kingly power of a man who is wick- 
 ed and impious? What atrocity did Tarquinius ever commit 
 equal to the innumerable acts of the sort which Antonius has 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 351 
 
 done and is still doing ? Again, the kings were used to con- 
 sult the senate ; nor, as is the case when Antonius holds a 
 senate, were armed barbarians ever introduced into the coun- 
 cil of the king. The kings paid due regard to the auspices, 
 which this man, though consul and augur, has neglected, not 
 only by passing laws in opposition to the auspices, but also 
 by making his colleague (whom he himself had appointed ir- 
 regularly, and had falsified the auspices in order to do so) 
 join in passing them. Again, what king was ever so pre- 
 posterously impudent as to have all the profits, and kind- 
 nesses, and privileges of his kingdom on sale? But what 
 immunity is there, what rights of citizenship, what rewards 
 that this man has not sold to individuals, and to cities, and to 
 entire provinces ? We have never heard of any thing base or 
 sordid being imputed to Tarquinius. But at the house of 
 this man gold was constantly being weighed out in the spin- 
 ning room, and money was being paid, and in one single 
 house every soul who had any interest in the business was 
 selling the whole empire of the Roman people. We have 
 never heard of any executions of Roman citizens by the or- 
 ders of Tarquinius ; but this man both at Suessa murdered 
 the man whom he had thrown into prison, and at Brundusium 
 massacred about three hundred most gallant men and most 
 virtuous citizens. Lastly, Tarquinius was conducting a war 
 in defense of the Roman people at the very time when he was 
 expelled. Antonius was leading an army against the Roman 
 people at the time when, being abandoned by the legions, he 
 cowered at the name of Caesar and at his army, and neglect- 
 ing the regular sacrifices, he offered up before daylight vows 
 Adiich he could never mean to perform ; and at this very mo- 
 ment he is endeavoring to invade a province of the Roman 
 people. The Roman people, therefore, has already received 
 and is still looking for greater services at the hand of Deci- 
 mus Brutus than our ancestors received from Lucius Brutus, 
 the founder of this race and name which we oujrht to be so 
 anxious to preserve. 
 
 V. But, while all slavery is miserable, to be slave to a man 
 who is profligate, unchaste, effeminate, never, not even while 
 in fear, sober, is surely intolerable. He, then, who keeps 
 this man out of Gaul, especially by his own private authority, 
 judges, and judges most truly, that he is not consul at all. 
 We must take care, therefore, O conscript fathers, to sanction 
 
352 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the private decision of Decimus Brutus by public authority. 
 Nor, indeed, ought you to have thought Marcus Antonius 
 consul at any time since the Lupercalia. For on the day 
 when he, in the sight of the Roman people, harangued the 
 mob, naked, perfumed, and drunk, and labored moreover to 
 put a crown on the head of his colleague, on that day he 
 abdicated not only the consulship, but also his own free- 
 dom. At all events he himself must at once have become 
 a slave, if Caesar had been willing to accept from him that 
 ensign of royalty. Can I then think him a consul, can I 
 think him a Roman citizen, can I think him a freeman, can 
 I even think him a man, who on that shameful and wick- 
 ed day showed what he was willing to endure while Caesar 
 lived, and what he was anxious to obtain himself after he 
 was dead ? 
 
 Nor is it possible to pass over in silence the virtue and the 
 firmness and the dignity of the province of Gaul. For that 
 is the flower of Italy ; that is the bulwark of the empire of 
 the Roman people ; that is the chief ornament of our dignity. 
 But so perfect is the unanimity of the municipal towns and 
 colonies of the province of Gaul, that all men in that district 
 appear to have united together to defend the authority of this 
 order, and the majesty of the Roman people. Wherefore, O 
 tribunes of the people, although you have not actually brought 
 any other business before us beyond the question of protection, 
 in order that the consuls may be able to hold the senate with 
 safety on the first of January, still you appear to me to have 
 acted with great wisdom and great prudence in giving an op- 
 portunity of debating the general circumstances of the repub- 
 lic. For when you decided that the senate could not be held 
 with safety without some protection or other, you at the same 
 time asserted by that decision that the wickedness and au- 
 dacity of Antonius was still continuing its practices within 
 our walls. 
 
 VI. Wherefore, I will embrace every consideration in my 
 opinion which I am now going to deliver, a course to which 
 you, I feel sure, have no objection; in order that authority 
 may be conferred by us on admirable generals, and that hope 
 of reward may be held out by us to gallant soldiers, and that 
 a formal decision may be come to, not by words only, but also 
 by actions, that Antonius is not only not a consul, but is even 
 an enemy. For if he be consul, then the legions which have 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 353 
 
 deserted the consul deserve beating 1 to death. Csesar id wick- 
 ed, Brutus is impious, since they of their own heads have lev- 
 ied an army against the consul. But if new honors are to be 
 sought out for the soldiers on account of their divine and im- 
 mortal merits, and if it is quite impossible to show gratitude ^ 
 enough to the generals, who is there who must not think that 
 man a public enemy, whose conduct is such that those who 
 are in arms against him are considered the saviors of the re- 
 public ? 
 
 Again, how insulting is he in his edicts ! how ignorant ! 
 how like a barbarian ! In the first place, how has he heaped 
 abuse on Caesar, in terms drawn from his recollection of his 
 own debauchery and profligacy. For where can we find any 
 one who is chaster than this young man ! who is more mod- 
 est? where have we among our youth a more illustrious exam- 
 ple of the old-fashioned strictness? Who, on the other hand, is 
 more profligate than the man who abuses him"? He reproach- 
 es the son of Caius Cassar with his want of noble blood, when 
 even his natural 2 father, if he had been alive, would have been 
 made consul. His mother is a woman of Aricia. You might 
 suppose he was saying a woman of Tralles, or of Ephesus. 
 Just see how we all who come from the municipal towns — 
 that is to say, absolutely all of us — are looked down upon ; for 
 how few of us are there who do not come from those towns? 
 and what municipal town is there which he does not despise 
 who looks with such contempt on Aricia; a town most an- 
 cient as to its antiquity ; if we regard its rights, united with 
 us by treaty; if we regard its vicinity, almost close to us; if 
 we regard the high character of its inhabitants, most honora- 
 ble ? It is from Aricia that we have received the Yoconian 
 and Atinian laws; from Aricia have come many of those mag- 
 istrates who have filled our curule chairs, both in our fathers' 
 recollection and in our own ; from Aricia have sprung many 
 of the best and bravest of the Roman knights. But if you dis- 
 approve of a wife from Aricia, why do you approve of one 
 from Tusculum ? Although the father of this most virtuous 
 and excellent woman, Marcus Atius Balbus, a man of the high- 
 
 1 Riddle (Diet. Lat. in voce) says, that this was the regular punishment 
 for deserters, and was inflicted by their comrades. 
 
 3 Cnaeus Octavius, the real father of Octavius Caesar, had been pnctoi 
 and governor of Macedonia, and whs intending to stand for the consul- 
 ship when he died. 
 
354 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 est character, was a man of praetorian rank ; but the father of 
 your wife, — a good woman, at all events a rich one, — a fellow 
 of the name of Bambalio, was a man of no account at all. 
 Nothi g could be lower than he was, a fellow who got his 
 surname as a sort of insult, derived 1 from the hesitation of 
 his speech and the stolidity of his understanding. Oh, but 
 your grandfather was nobly born. Yes, he was that Tudita- 
 nus who used to put on a cloak and buskins, and then go and 
 scatter money from the rostra among the people. I wish he 
 had bequeathed his contempt of money to his descendants ! 
 You have, indeed, a most glorious nobility of family! But 
 how does it happen that the son of a woman of Aricia ap- 
 pears to you to be ignoble, when you are accustomed to boast 
 of a descent on the mother's side which is precisely the same? 2 
 Besides, what insanity is it for that man to say any thing 
 about the want of noble birth in men's wives, when his father 
 married Numitoria of Fregellae, the daughter of a traitor, and 
 when he himself has begotten children of the daughter of a 
 freedman. However, those illustrious men Lucius Philippus, 
 who has a wife who came from Aricia, and Caius Marcellus, 
 whose wife is the daughter of an Arician, may look to this ; 
 and I am quite sure that they have no regrets on the score of 
 the dignity of those admirable women. 
 
 VII. Moreover, Antonius proceeds to name Quint us Cice- 
 ro, my brother's son, in his edict ; and is so mad as not to per- 
 ceive that the way in which he names him is a panegyric on 
 him. For what could happen more desirable for this young 
 man, than to be known by every one to be the partner of Caj- 
 sar's counsels^ and the enemy of the phrensy of Antonius? Bui 
 this gladiator has dared to put in writing that he had design- 
 ed the murder of his father and of his uncle. Oh the marvel- 
 ous impudence, and audacity, and temerity of such an asser- 
 tion ! to dare to put this in writing against that young man. 
 whom I and my brother, on account of his amiable manners 
 and pure character, and splendid abilities, vie with one an- 
 other in loving, and to whom we incessantly devote our eyes 
 and ears, and affections! And as to me, he does not know 
 whether he is injuring or praising me in those same edicts 
 When he threatens the most virtuous citizens with the sanul 
 
 1 Bambalio is derived from the Greek word fiafi^uAu, to lisp. 
 
 2 Julia, the mother of Antonius and sister of Lucius Caesar, was al* 
 a native of Aricia. 
 
 I 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 355 
 
 punishment which I inflicted on the most wicked and infa- 
 mous of men, he seems to praise me as if he were desirous of 
 copying me ; but when he brings up again the memory of that 
 most illustrious exploit, then he thinks that he is exciting some 
 odium against me in the breasts of men like himself. 
 
 VIII. But what is it that he has done himself? When he 
 had published all these edicts, he issued another, that the sen- 
 ate was to meet in a full house on the twenty-fourth of No- 
 vember. On that day he himself was not present. But what 
 were the terms of his edict 1 These, I believe, are the exact 
 words of the end of it : " If any one fails to attend, all men 
 will be at liberty to think him the adviser of my destruction 
 and of most ruinous counsels." What are ruinous counsels? 
 those which relate to the recovery of the liberty of the Roman 
 people ? Of those counsels I confess that I have been and still 
 am an adviser and prompter to Caesar. Although he did not 
 stand in need of any one's advice ; but still I spurred on the 
 willing horse, as it is said. For what good man would not 
 have advised putting you to death, when on your death de- 
 pended the safety and life of every good man, and the liberty 
 and dignity of the Roman people ? 
 
 But when he had summoned us all by so severe an edict, 
 why did he not attend himself? Do you suppose that he was 
 detained by any melancholy or important occasion 1 He was 
 detained drinking and feasting. If, indeed, it deserves to be 
 called a feast, and not rather gluttony. He neglected to at- 
 tend on the day mentioned in his edict ; and he adjourned the 
 meeting to the twenty-eighth. He then summoned us to at- 
 tend in the Capitol ; and at that temple he did arrive himself, 
 coming up through some mine left by the Gauls. Men came, 
 having been summoned, some of them indeed men of high dis- 
 tinction, but forgetful of what was due to their dignity. For 
 the day was such, the report of the object of the meeting such, 
 such too the man who had convened the senate, that it was 
 discreditable for a senate to feel no fear for the result. And 
 yet to those men who had assembled he did not dare to say a 
 single word about Caesar, though he had made up his mind 1 
 to submit a motion respecting him to the senate. There was 
 a man of consular rank who had brought a resolution ready 
 
 1 He had intended to propose to the senate to declare Octavius a pub- 
 lic enemy. We must recollect that in these orations Cicero, even when 
 he speaks of Caius Caesar, means Octavius. 
 
356 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 drawn up. Is it not now admitting that he is himself an ent 
 my, when he does not dare to make a motion respecting a man 
 who is leading an army against him while he is consul f For 
 it is perfectly plain that one of the two must be an enemy ; 
 nor is it possible to come to a different decision respecting ad- 
 verse generals. If then Caius Caesar be an enemy, why does 
 the consul submit no motion to the senate? If he does not 
 deserve to be branded by the senate, then what can the con- 
 sul say, who, by his silence respecting him, has confessed that 
 he himself is an enemy 1 ? In his edicts he styles him Sparta- 
 cus, while in the senate he does not venture to call him even 
 a bad citizen. 
 
 IX. But in the most melancholy circumstances what mirth 
 does he not provoke? I have committed to memory some 
 short phrases of one edict, which he appears to think partic- 
 ularly clever ; but I have not as yet found any one who has 
 understood what he intended by them. " That is no insult 
 which a worthy man does." Now, in the first place, what is 
 the meaning of " worthy ?" For there are many men worthy 
 of punishment, as he himself is. Docs he mean what a man 
 does who is invested with any dignity V if so, what insult can 
 be greater? Moreover, what is the meaning of "doing an 
 insult?" Who ever uses such an expression? Then comes, 
 "Nor any fear which an enemy threatens." What then? is 
 fear usually threatened by a friend ? Then came many simi- 
 lar sentences. Is it not better to be dumb, than to say what 
 no one can understand? Now see why his tutor, exchanging 
 pleas for plows, has had given to hint in the public domain 
 of the Roman people two thousand acres of land in the Leon- 
 tine district, exempt from all taxes, for making a stupid man 
 still stupider at the public expense. 
 
 However, these perhaps are trifling matters. I ask now, 
 why all on a sudden he became so gentle in the senate, after 
 having been so fierce in his edicts? For what was the object 
 of threatening Lucius Cassius, a most fearless tribune of the 
 people, and a most virtuous and loyal citizen, with death if 
 he came to the senate? of expelling Deciinus Carfulenus, a 
 man thoroughly attached to the republic, from the senate by 
 violence and threats of death? of interdicting Titus Canutius, 
 
 1 It is quite impossible to give a proper idea of Cicero's meaning here. 
 He is arguing on the word d^gnys. from which ckgnitas is derived. But 
 we have no means of keeping up the play on the words in English. 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 357 
 
 by whom he had been repeatedly and deservedly harassed by 
 most legitimate attacks, not only from the temple itself but 
 from all approach to it? What was the resolution of the 
 senate which he was afraid that they would stop by the inter- 
 position of their veto % That, I suppose, respecting the sup- 
 plication in honor of Marcus Lepidus, a most illustrious man ! 
 Certainly there was a great danger of our hindering an ordi- 
 nary compliment to a man on whom we were every day think- 
 ing of conferring some extraordinary honor. However, that 
 he might not appear to have had no reason at all for ordering 
 the senate to meet, he was on the point of bringing forward 
 some motion about the republic, when the news about the 
 fourth legion came ; which entirely bewildered him, and hast- 
 ening to flee awav, he took a division on the resolution for de- 
 creeing this supplication, though such a proceeding had never 
 been heard of before. 1 
 
 X. But what a setting out was his after this ! what a jour- 
 ney when he was in his robe as a general ! How did he shun 
 all eyes, and the light of day, and the city, and the forum ! 
 How miserable was his flight ! how shameful! how infamous! 
 Splendid, too, were the decrees of the senate passed on the 
 evening of that very day ; very religiously solemn was the 
 allotment of the provinces ; and heavenly indeed was the op- 
 portunity, when every one got exactly wdiat he thought most 
 desirable. You are acting admirably, therefore, O tribunes 
 of the people, in bringing forward a motion about the protec- 
 tion of the senate and consuls ; and most deservedly are we 
 all bound to feel and to prove to you the greatest gratitude 
 for your conduct. For how can we be free from fear and 
 danger while menaced by such covetousness and audacity 1 
 And as for that ruined and desperate man, what more hostile 
 decision can be passed upon him than has already been passed 
 by his own friends'? His most intimate friend, a man con- 
 nected with me too, Lucius Lentulus, and also Publius Naso, 
 a man destitute of covetousness, have shown that they think 
 that they have no provinces assigned them, and that the al- 
 lotments of Antonius are invalid. Lucius Philippus, a man 
 thoroughly worthy of his father and grandfather and ances- 
 tors, has done the same. The same is the opinion of Marcus 
 
 1 The general proceeding on such occasions being to ask each senator's 
 opinion separately, which gave those who chose an opportunity for pro- 
 nouncing some encomium on the person honored. 
 
358 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Turanius, a man of the greatest integrity and purity of life. 
 The same is the conduct of Publius Oppius ; and those very 
 men, — who, influenced by their friendship for Marcus Anto- 
 nius, have attributed to him more power than they would 
 perhaps really approve of, — Marcus Piso, my own connection, 
 a most admirable man and virtuous citizen, and Marcus Ve- 
 hilius, a man of equal respectability, have both declared that 
 they would obey the authority of the senate. Why should I 
 speak of Lucius China? whose extraordinary integrity, proved 
 under many trying circumstances, makes the glory of his pres- 
 ent admirable conduct less remarkable ; he has altogether dis- 
 regarded the province assigned to him ; and so lias Caius Ces- 
 tius, a man of great and firm mind. 
 
 Who are there left then to be delighted with this heaven- 
 sent allotment ? Lucius Antonius and Marcus Antonius ! O 
 happy pair ! for there is nothing that they wished for more. 
 Caius Antonius has Macedonia. Happy, too, is he ! For he 
 was constantly talking about this province. Caius Calvisius 
 has Africa. Nothing could be more fortunate, for he had 
 only just departed from Africa, and, as if he had divinCd that 
 he should return, he left two lieutenants at Utica. Then 
 Marcus Iccius has Sicily, and Quintus Cassius Spain. I do 
 not know what to suspect. I fancy the lots which assigned 
 these two provinces, were not quite so carefully attended to 
 by the gods. 
 
 XI. O Caius Caesar (I am speaking of the young man), 
 what safety have you brought to the republic ! How unfore- 
 seen has it been ! how sudden ! for if he did these things when 
 flying, what would he have done when he was pursuing? In 
 truth, he had said in a harangue that he would be the guardian 
 of the city ; and that he would keep his army at the gates of 
 the city till the first of May. W'hat a fine guardian (as the 
 proverb goes) is the wolf of the sheep ! Would Antonius have 
 been a guardian of the city, or its plunderer and destroyer 1 ? 
 And he said too that he would come into the city and go out 
 as he pleased. What more need I say? Did he not say, in 
 the hearing of all the people, while sitting in front of the tem- 
 ple of Castor, that no one should remain alive but the con- 
 queror? 
 
 On this day, O conscript fathers, for the first time after a 
 long interval do we plant our foot and take possession of liberty. 
 Liberty, of which, as long as I could be, I was not only the 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 359 
 
 defender, T)ut even the savior. But when I could not be so, 
 I rested ; and I bore the misfortunes and misery of that period 
 without abjeetness, and not without some dignity. But as for 
 this most foul monster, who could endure him, or how could 
 any one endure him ! What is there in Antonius except lust, 
 and cruelty, and wantonness, and audacity 1 ? Of these mate- 
 rials he is wholly made up. There is in him nothing ingen- 
 uous, nothing moderate, nothing modest, nothing virtuous. 
 Wherefore, since the matter has come to such a crisis that the 
 question is whether he is to make atonement to the republic 
 for his crimes, or we are to become slaves, let us at last, I be- 
 seech you, by the immortal gods, O conscript fathers, adopt 
 our fathers' courage, and our fathers' virtue, so as either to 
 recover the liberty belonging to the Roman name and race, or 
 else to prefer death to slavery. We have borne and endured 
 many things which ought not to be endured in a free city : 
 some of us out of a hope of recovering our freedom, some from 
 too great a fondness for life. But if we have submitted to 
 these things, which necessity and a sort of force which may 
 seem almost to have been put on us by destiny, have com- 
 pelled us to endure ; though, in point of fact, we have not en- 
 dured them ; are we also to bear with the most shameful and 
 inhuman tyranny of this profligate robber ? 
 
 XII. What will he do in his passion, if ever he has the 
 power, who, when he is not able to show his anger against 
 any one, has been the enemy of all good men 1 What will he 
 not dare to do when victorious, who, without having gained 
 any victory, has committed such crimes as these since the 
 death of Caesar % has emptied his well-filled house ! has pillaged 
 his gardens ? has transferred to his own mansion all their or- 
 naments ? has sought to make his death a pretext for slaugh- 
 ter and conflagration ? who, while he has carried two or three 
 resolutions of the senate which have been advantageous to the 
 republic, has made every thing else subservient to his own ac- 
 quisition of gain and plunder? who has put up exemptions 
 and annuities to sale? who has released cities from obliga- 
 tions'? who has removed whole provinces from subjection to 
 the Roman empire ? who has restored exiles 1 who has passed 
 forged laws in the name of Caesar, and has continued to have 
 forged decrees engraved on brass and fixed up in the Capitol, 
 and has set up in his own house a domestic market for all 
 things of that sort? who has imposed laws on the Roman 
 
360 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 . 
 
 people ? and who, with armed troops and guards, has exclude' 
 both the people and the magistrates from the forum? who has 
 filled the senate with armed men f and has introduced arme 
 men into the temple of Concord when he was holding a senat 
 there? who ran down to Brundusium to meet the legions, an 
 then murdered all the centurions in them who were wel 
 affected to the republic? who endeavored to come to Rome 
 with his army to accomplish our massacre and the utter de- 
 struction of the city? 
 
 And he, now that he has been prevented from succeeding 
 in this attempt by the wisdom and forces of Caesar, and the 
 unanimity of the veterans, and the valor of the legions, even 
 now that his fortunes are desperate, does not diminish his 
 audacity, nor, mad that he is, does he cease proceeding in his 
 headlong career of fury. He is leading his mutilated army 
 into Gaul ; with one legion, and that too wavering in its 
 fidelity to him, he is waiting for his brother Lucius, as he can 
 not find any one more nearly like himself than him. But now 
 what slaughter is this man, who has thus become a captain 
 instead of a matador, a general instead of a gladiator, making, 
 wherever he sets his foot ! He destroys stores, he slays the 
 flocks and herds, and all the cattle, wherever he finds them ; 
 his soldiers revel in their spoil ; and he himself, in order to 
 imitate his brother, drowns himself in wine. Fields are laid 
 waste ; villas are plundered ; matrons, virgins, well-born boys 
 are carried off and given up to the soldiery ; and Marcus 
 Antonius has done exactly the same wherever he has led his 
 army. 
 
 XIII. Will you open your gates to these most infamous 
 brothers? will you ever admit them into the city? will you 
 not rather, now that the opportunity is offered to you, now 
 that you have generals ready, and the minds of the soldiers 
 eager for the service, and all the Roman people unanimous, 
 and all Italy excited with the desire to recover its liberty, — 
 will you not, I say, avail yourself of the kindness of the im- 
 mortal gods? You will never have an opportunity if you 
 neglect this one. He will be hemmed in in the rear, in the 
 front, and in flank, if he once enters Gaul. Nor must he b< 
 attacked by arms alone, but by our decrees also. Mighty i{ 
 the authority, mighty is the name of the senate when all it* 
 members arc inspired by one and the same resolution. D< 
 you not see how the forum is crowded ? how the Roman pea 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC. 361 
 
 pit? \S on tiptoe with the hope of recovering its liberty? which 
 now, beholding us, after a long interval, meeting here in num- 
 bers, hopes too that we are also met in freedom. 
 
 It was in expectation of this day that I avoided the wicked 
 army of Marcus Antonius, at a time when he, while inveigh- 
 in o- against me, was not aware for what an occasion I was 
 reserving myself and my strength. If at that time I had 
 chosen to reply to him, while he was seeking to begin the 
 massacre with me, I should not now be able to consult the 
 welfare of the republic. But now that I have this opportunity, 
 I will never, O conscript fathers, neither by day nor by night, 
 cease considering what ought to be thought concerning the 
 liberty of the .Roman people, and concerning your dignity. 
 And whatever ought to be planned or clone, I not only will 
 never shrink from, but I will offer myself for, ana beg to have 
 intrusted to me. This is what I did before while it was in 
 my power; when it was no longer in my power to do so, I 
 did nothing. But now it is not only in my power, but it is 
 absolutely necessary for me, unless we prefer being slaves to 
 fighting with all our strength and courage to avoid being 
 slaves. The immortal gods have given us these protectors, 
 Csesar for the city, Brutus for Gaul. For if he had been able 
 to oppress the city we must have become slaves at once ; if 
 he had been able to get possession of Gaul, then it would not 
 have been long before every good man must have perished and 
 all the rest have been enslaved. 
 
 XIV. Now then that this opportunity is afforded to you, O 
 conscript fathers, I entreat you in the name of the immortal 
 gods, seize upon it ; and recollect at last that you are the 
 chief men of the most honorable council on the whole face of 
 the earth. Give a token to the Roman people that your wis- 
 dom shall not fail the republic, since that too professes that 
 its. valor shall never desert it either. There is no need for my 
 warning you : there is no one so foolish as not to perceive 
 that if we go to sleep over this opportunity we shall have to 
 endure a tyranny which will be not only cruel and haughty, 
 but also ignominious and flagitious. You know the insolence 
 of Antonius; you know his friends; you know his whole 
 household. To be slaves to lustful, wanton, debauched, profli- 
 gate, drunken gamblers, is the extremity of misery combined 
 with the extremity of infamy. And if now (but may the im- 
 mortal gods avert the omen !) that worst of fates shall befall 
 
 Q 
 
j#2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the republic, then, as brave gladiators take care to perish with 
 honor, let us too, who are the chief men of all countries and 
 nations, take care to fall with dignity rather than to live as 
 slaves with ignominy. 
 
 There is nothing more detestable than disgrace; nothing 
 more shameful than slavery. We have been born to glory 
 and to liberty ; let us either preserve them or die with dignity. 
 Too long have we concealed what we have felt : now at length 
 it is revealed : every one has plainly shown what are his feel- 
 ings to both sides, and what are his inclinations. There are 
 impious citizens, measured by the love I bear my country, too 
 many ; but in proportion to the multitude of well-affected 
 ones, very few ; and the immortal gods have given the repub- 
 lic an incredible opportunity and chance for destroying them. 
 For, in addition to the defenses which we already have, there 
 will soon be added consuls of consummate prudence, and vir- 
 tue, and concord, who have already deliberated and pondered 
 for many months on the freedom of the Roman people. With 
 these men for our advisers and leaders, with the gods assisting 
 us, with ourselves using all vigilance and taking great precau- 
 tions for the future, and with the Roman people acting with 
 unanimity, we shall indeed be free in a short time, and the 
 recollection of our present slavery will make liberty sweeter. 
 
 XV. Moved by these considerations, since the tribunes of 
 the people have brought forward a motion to insure that the 
 senate shall be able to meet in safety on the first of January, 
 and that we may be able to deliver our sentiments on the gen- 
 eral welfare of the state with freedom, I give my vote that 
 Caius Ransa and Aulus Ilirtius, the consuls elect, do take care 
 that the senate be enabled to meet in safety on the first of 
 January; and, as an edict has been published by Decimus 
 Brutus, imperator and consul elect, I vote that the senate 
 thinks that Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul, deserves 
 excellently well of the republic, inasmuch as he is upholding 
 the authority of the senate, and the freedom and empire of the 
 Roman people ; and as he is also retaining the province of 
 Gallia Citerior, a province full of most virtuous and brave 
 men, and of citizens most devoted to the republic, and his 
 army, in obedience to the senate, I vote that the senate judges 
 that he, and his army, and the municipalities and colonies of 
 the province of Gaul, have acted and are acting properly, and 
 regularly, and in a manner advantageous to the republic And 
 
THE THIRD PHILIPPIC 363 
 
 the senate thinks that it will be for the general interests of 
 the republic that the provinces which are at present occupied 
 by Decimus Brutus and by Lucius Plancus, both imperators, 
 and consuls elect, and also by the officers who are in command 
 of provinces, shall continue to be held by them in accordance 
 with the provisions of the Julian law, until each of these of- 
 ficers has a successor appointed by a resolution of the senate ; 
 and that they shall take care to maintain those provinces and 
 armies in obedience to the senate and people of Rome, and as . t 
 a defense to the republic. And since, by the exertions and 
 valor and wisdom of Caius Csesar, and by the admirable una- 
 nimity of the veteran soldiers, who, obeying his authority, have 
 been and are a protection to the republic, the Roman people 
 has been defended, and is at this present time being defended, 
 from the most serious dangers. And as the Martial legion has 
 encamped at Alba, in a municipal town of the greatest loy- 
 alty and courage, and has devoted itself to the support of the 
 authority of the senate, and of the freedom of the Roman 
 people ; and as the fourth legion, behaving with equal wisdom 
 and with the same virtue, under the command of Lucius Eg' 
 natuleius the quaestor, an illustrious citizen, has defended and 
 is still defending the authority of the senate and the freedom 
 of the Roman people ; I give my vote, That it is and shall be 
 an object of anxious care to the senate to pay due honor and 
 to show due gratitude to them for their exceeding services to 
 the republic : and that the senate hereby orders that when . 
 Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, the consuls elect, have en' 
 tered on their office, they take the earliest opportunity of con 
 suiting this body on these matters, as shall seem to them ex- 
 pedient for the republic, and worthy of their own integrity 
 and loyalty. 
 
3G4 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 THE FOURTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MAR- 
 CUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE FOURTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 After delivering the preceding speech in the senate, Cicero proceeded to 
 the forum, where he delivered the following speech to the people, to 
 give them information of what had been done. 
 
 I. The great numbers in which you are here met this day, 
 O Romans, and this assembly, greater than, it seems to me, I 
 ever remember, inspires me with both an exceeding eagerness 
 to defend the republic, and witb a great hope of re-establishing 
 it. Although my courage indeed has never failed ; what has 
 been unfavorable is the time ; and the moment that that has 
 appeared to show any dawn of light, I at once have been the 
 leader in the defense of your liberty. And if I had attempted 
 to have done so before, I should not be able to do so now. For 
 this day, O Romans (that you may not think it is but a trifling 
 business in which we have been engaged), the foundations have 
 been laid for future actions. For the senate has no longer 
 been content with styling Antonius an enemy in words, but it 
 has shown by actions that it thinks him one. And now I am 
 much more elated still, because you too with such great una- 
 nimity and with such a clamor have sanctioned our declaration 
 that he is an enemy. 
 
 And indeed, O Romans, it is impossible but that cither the 
 men must be impious who have levied armies against the con- 
 sul, or else that he must be an enemy against whom they have 
 rightly taken arms. And this doubt the senate has this day 
 removed — not indeed that there really was any ; but it has 
 prevented the possibility of there being any. Caius Caesar, 
 Avho has upheld and who is still upholding the republic and 
 your freedom by his zeal and wisdom, and at the expense of 
 his patrimonial estate, has been complimented with the high- 
 est praises of the senate. 
 
 I praise you, — yes, I praise you greatly, O Romans, when 
 you follow with the most grateful minds the name of that 
 
THE FOURTH PHILIPPIC. 365 
 
 most illustrious youth, or rather boy ; for his actions belong 
 to immortality, the name of youth only to his age. I can rec- 
 ollect many things ; I have heard of many things ; I have read 
 of many things ; but in the whole history of the whole world 
 I have never known any thing like this. For, when we were 
 weighed down with slavery, when the evil was daily increas- 
 ing^when we had no defense, while we were in dread of the 
 pernicious and fatal return of Marcus Antonius from Brundu- 
 sium, this young man adopted the design which none of us 
 had ventured to'hope for, which beyond all question none of 
 us were acquainted with, of raising an invincible army of his 
 father's soldiers, and so hindering the phrensy of Antonius, 
 spurred on as it was by the most inhuman counsels, from the 
 power of doing mischief to the republic. 
 
 II. For who is there who does not see clearly that, if Cae- 
 sar had not prepared an army, the return of Antonius must 
 have been accompanied by our destruction? For, in truth, 
 he returned in such a state of mind, burning with hatred of 
 you all, stained with the blood of the Eoman citizens, whom 
 he had murdered at Suessa and at Brundusium, that he 
 thought of nothing but the utter destruction of the republic. 
 And what protection could have been found for your safety 
 and for your liberty if the army of Caius Caesar had not been 
 composed of the bravest of his father's soldiers? And with 
 respect to his praises and honors, — and he is entitled to divine 
 and everlasting honors for his godlike and undying services, — 
 the senate hasjust consented to my proposals, and has decreed 
 that a motion be submitted to it at the very earliest opportu- 
 nity. 
 
 Now who is there who does not see that by this decree An- 
 tonius has been adjudged to be an enemy ? For what else can 
 we call him, when the senate decides that extraordinary hon- 
 ors are to be devised for those men who are leading armies 
 against him ? What ? did not the Martial legion (which ap- 
 pears to me by some divine permission to have derived its 
 name from that god from whom we have heard that the Eo- 
 man people descended) decide by its resolutions that Antonius 
 was an enemy before the senate had come to any resolution ? 
 For if he be not an enemy, we must inevitably decide that 
 those men w r ho have deserted the consul are enemies. Admi- 
 rably and seasonably, O Eomans, have you by your cries sanc- 
 tioned the noble conduct of the men of the Martial legion, who 
 
366 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have come over to the authority of the senate, to your liberty, 
 and to the whole republic ; and have abandoned that enemy 
 and robber and parricide of his country. Nor did they dis- 
 play only their spirit and courage in doing this, but their cau- 
 tion and wisdom also. They encamped at Alba, in a city con- 
 venient, fortified, near, full of brave men and loyal and virtu- 
 ous citizens. The fourth legion imitating the virtue of this 
 Martial legion, under the leadership of Lucius Egnatuleius, 
 whom the senate deservedly praised a little while ago, has also 
 joined the army of Caius Caesar. 
 
 III. What more adverse decisions, O Marcus Antonius, 
 can you want f Cassar, who has levied an army against you, 
 is extolled to the skies. The legions are praised in the most 
 complimentary language, which have abandoned you, which 
 were sent for into Italy by you ; and which, if you had chosen 
 to be a consul rather than an enemy, were wholly devoted to 
 you. And the fearless and honest decision of those legions is 
 confirmed by the senate, is approved of by the whole Roman 
 people, — unless, indeed, you to-day, O Romans, decide that 
 Antonius is a consul and not an enemy. I thought, O Ro- 
 mans, that you did think as you show you do. What 1 do 
 you suppose that the municipal towns, and the colonies, and 
 the prefectures have any other opinion % All men are agreed 
 with one mind; so that every one who wishes the state to be 
 saved must take up every sort of arms against that pestilence. 
 What % does, I should like to know, does the opinion of Deci- 
 mus Brutus, O Romans, which you can gather from his edict, 
 which has this day reached us, appear to any one deserving 
 of being lightly esteemed ? Rightly and truly do you say No, 
 O Romans. For the family and name of Brutus has been by 
 some especial kindness and liberality of the immortal gods 
 given to the republic, for the purpose of at one time establish- 
 ing, and at another of recovering, the liberty of the Roman 
 people. What then has been the opinion which Decimus 
 Brutus has formed of Marcus Antonius? He excludes him 
 from his province. He opposes him with his army. He 
 rouses all Gaul to war, which is already roused of its own ac- 
 cord, and in consequence of the judgment which it has itself 
 formed. If Antonius be consul, Brutus is an enemy. Can 
 wo then doubt which of these alternatives is the fact \ 
 
 IV. And just as you now with one mind and one voice 
 affirm that you entertain no doubt, so did the senate just now 
 
THE FOURTH PHILIPPIC. 367 
 
 decree that Decimus Brutus deserved excellently well of the 
 republic, inasmuch as he was defending the authority of the 
 senate and the liberty and empire of the Roman people. De- 
 fending it against whom ? Why, against an enemy. For 
 what other sort of defense deserves praise ? In the next place 
 the province of Gaul is praised, and is deservedly compli- 
 mented in most honorable language by the senate for resisting 
 Antonius. But if that province considered him the consul, 
 and still refused to receive him, it would be guilty of great 
 wickedness. For ail the provinces belong to the consul of 
 right, and are bound to obey him. Decimus Brutus, impera- 
 tor and consul elect, a citizen born for the republic, denies 
 that he is consul ; Gaul denies it ; all Italy denies it ; the 
 senate denies it ; you deny it. Who then think that he is 
 consul except a few robbers I Although even they themselves 
 do not believe what they say; nor is it possible that they 
 should differ from the judgment of all men, impious and des- 
 perate men though they be. But the hope of plunder and 
 booty blinds their minds ; men whom no gifts of money, no 
 allotment of land, nor even that interminable auction has sat- 
 isfied ; who have proposed to themselves the city, the proper- 
 ties and fortunes of all the citizens as their booty ; and who, 
 as long as there is something for them to seize and carry off, 
 think that nothing will be wanting to them ; among whom 
 Marcus Antonius (O ye immortal gods, avert, I pray you, and 
 efface this omen), has promised to divide this city. May 
 things rather happen, O Romans, as you pray that they should, 
 and may the chastisement of this phrensy fall on him and on 
 his friend. And, indeed, I feel sure that it will be so. For 
 I think that at present not only men but the immortal gods 
 have all united together to preserve this republic. For if the 
 immortal gods foreshow us the future, by means of portents 
 and prodigies, then it has been openly revealed to us that 
 punishment is near at hand to him, and liberty to us. Or if 
 it was impossible for such unanimity on the part of all men to 
 exist without the inspiration of the gods, in either case how 
 can we doubt as to the inclinations of the heavenly deities ! 
 
 It only remains, O Romans, for you to persevere in the sen- 
 timents which you at present display. 
 
 V. I will act, therefore, as commanders are in the habit of 
 doing when their army is ready for battle, who, although they 
 see their soldiers ready to engage, still address an exhortation 
 
368 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 to them ; and in like manner I will exhort you who are al- 
 ready eager and burning to recover your liberty. You have 
 not — you have not, indeed, O Romans, to war against an en- 
 emy with whom it is possible to make peace on any terms 
 whatever. For he does not now desire your slavery, as he 
 did before, but he is angry now and thirsts for your blood. 
 No sport appears more delightful to him than bloodshed, and 
 slaughter, and the massacre of citizens before his eyes. You 
 have not, O Romans, to deal with a wicked and profligate man, 
 but with an unnatural and savage beast. And, since he has 
 fallen into a well, let him be buried in it. For if he escapes 
 out of it, there will be no inhumanity of torture which it will 
 be possible to avoid. But he is at present hemmed in, press- 
 ed, and besieged by those troops which we already have, and 
 will soon be still more so by those which in a few days the 
 new consuls will levy. Apply yourselves then to this busi- 
 ness, as you are doing. Never have you shown greater una- 
 nimity in any cause ; never have you been so cordially united 
 with the senate. And no wonder. For the question now is 
 not in what condition we are to live, but whether we are to 
 live at all, or to perish with torture and ignominy. 
 
 Although nature, indeed, has appointed death for all men : 
 but valor is accustomed to ward off any cruelty or disgrace in 
 death. And that is an inalienable possession of the Roman 
 race and name. Preserve, I beseech you, O Romans, this at- 
 tribute which your ancestors have left you as a sort of inherit- 
 ance. Although all other things are uncertain, fleeting, trans- 
 itory ; virtue alone is planted firm with very deep roots ; it 
 can not be undermined by any violence; it can never be 
 moved from its position. By it your ancestors first subdued 
 the whole of Italy ; then destroyed Carthage, overthrew Nu- 
 mantia, and reduced the most mighty kings and most warlike 
 nations under the dominion of this empire. 
 
 VI. And your ancestors, O Romans, had to deal with an 
 enemy who had also a republic, a senate-house, a treasury, 
 harmonious and united citizens, and with whom, if fortune 
 had so willed it, there might have been peace and treaties on 
 settled principles. But this enemy of yours is attacking your 
 republic, but has none himself; is eager to destroy the senate, 
 that is to 6ay, the council of the whole world, but has no pub- 
 lic council himself; he has exhausted your treasury, and has 
 none of his own. For how can a man be supported by the 
 
THE FOURTH PHILIPPIC. 369 
 
 unanimity of his citizens, who has no city at all 1 And what 
 principles of peace can there be with that man who is full of 
 incredible cruelty, and destitute of faith 1 
 
 The whole then of the contest, O Romans, which is now 
 before the Roman people, the conqueror of all nations, is with 
 an assassin, a robber, a Spartacus. 1 For as to his habitual 
 boast of being like Catilina, he is equal to him in wickedness, 
 but inferior in energy. He, though he had no army, rapidly 
 levied one. This man has lost that very army which he had. 
 As, therefore, by my diligence, and the authority of the senate, 
 and your own zeal and valor, you crushed Catilina, so you 
 will very soon hear that this infamous piratical enterprise of 
 Antonius has been put down by your own perfect and unex- 
 ampled harmony with the senate, and by the good fortune and 
 valor of your .armies and generals. I, for my part, as far as 
 I am able to labor, and to effect any thing by my care, and 
 exertions, and vigilance, and authority, and counsel, will omit 
 nothing which I may think serviceable to your liberty. Nor 
 could I omit it without wickedness after all your most ample 
 and honorable kindness to me. However, on this day, en- 
 couraged by the motion of a most gallant man, and one most 
 firmly attached to you, Marcus Servilius, whom you see before 
 you, and his colleagues also, most distinguished men, and most 
 virtuous citizens ; and partly, too, by my advice and my ex- 
 ample, we have, for the first time after a long interval, fired 
 up again with a hope of liberty. 
 
 1 Spartacus was the general of the gladiators and slaves it: the Servile 
 war. 
 
 Q2 
 
370 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 THE FIFTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS 
 
 ANTONIUS. 
 
 OTHERWISE CALLED THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The new consuls Hirtius and Pansa were much attached to Cicero, had 
 consulted him a great deal, and professed great respect for his opinion ; 
 but they were also under great obligations to Julius Caesar, and, con- 
 sequently, connected to some extent with his party and with Antonius ; 
 on which account they wished, if possible, to employ ^noderate meas- 
 ures only against him. 
 
 As soon as they had entered on their office, they convoked the senate to 
 meet for the purpose of deliberating on the general welfare of the re- 
 public. They both spoke themselves with great firmness, promising 
 to be the leaders in defending the liberties of Rome, and exhorting the 
 senate to act with courage. And then they called on Quintus Fufius 
 Calenus, who had been consul a.u.c 707, and who was Pansa's father- 
 in-law, to deliver his opinion first. He was known to be a firm friend 
 of Antonius. Cicero wished to declare Antonius a public enemy at 
 once ; but Calcnus proposed, that before they proceeded to acts of open 
 hostility against him, they should send an embassy to admonish him to 
 desist from his attempts upon Gaul, and to submit to the authority of 
 the senate. Piso and others supported this motion, on the ground that 
 it was cruel and unjust to condemn a man without giving him a fair 
 chance of submitting, and without hearing what he had to say. It was 
 in opposition to Calenus's motion that Cicero made the following 
 speech, substituting for his proposition one to declare Antonius an 
 enemy, and to offer pardon to those of his army who returned to their 
 duty by the first of February, to thank Decimus Brutus for his conduct 
 in Gaul, to decree a statue to Marcus Lepidus 1 for his services to the 
 republic and his loyalty, to thank Caius Caesar (Octavius) and to grant 
 him a special commission as general, to make him a senator and pro- 
 praetor, and to enable him to stand for any subsequent magistracy as 
 if he had been qusestor, to thank Lucius Egnatuleius, and to vote 
 thanks and promise rewards to the Martial and the fourth legion. 
 
 I. Nothing, O conscript fathers, has ever seemed to me lon- 
 ger than these calends of January ; and I think that for the 
 
 1 Lepidus had not in reality done any particular service to the repub- 
 lic (he was afterward one of the triumviri), but he was at the head of the 
 best army in the empire; and so was able to be of the most important 
 service to either party, and, therefore, Cicero hoped to attach him to his 
 side by this compliment, 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC 371 
 
 last few days you have all been feeling the same thing. For 
 those who are waging war against the republic have not wait- 
 ed for this day. But we, while it would have been most es- 
 pecially proper for us to come to the aid of the general safety 
 with our counsel, were not summoned to the senate. How- 
 ever, the speech just addressed to us by the consuls has re- 
 moved our complaints as to what is past, for they have spoken 
 in such a manner that the calends of January seem to have 
 been long wished for rather than really to have arrived late. 
 
 And while the speeches of the consuls have encouraged my 
 mind, and have given me a hope, not only of preserving our 
 safety, but even of recovering our former dignity ; on the other 
 hand, the opinion of the man who has been asked for his opin- 
 ion first would have disturbed me, if I had not confidence in 
 your virtue and firmness. For this day, O conscript fathers, 
 has dawned upon you, and this opportunity has been afforded 
 you of proving to the Eoman people how much virtue, how 
 much firmness, and how much dignity exists in the counsels 
 of this order. Recollect what a day it was thirteen days ago ; 
 how great was then your unanimity, and virtue, and firmness ; 
 and what great praise, what great glory, and what great grat- 
 itude you earned from the Eoman people. And on that day, 
 O conscript fathers, you resolved that no other alternative 
 was in your power, except either an honorable peace or a nec- 
 essary war. 
 
 Is Marcus Antonius desirous of peace ! Let him lay down 
 his arms, let him implore our pardon, let him deprecate our 
 vengeance: he will find no one more reasonable than me; 
 though, while seeking to recommend himself to impious citi- 
 zens, he has chosen to be an enemy instead of a friend to me. 
 There is, in truth, nothing which can be given to him while 
 waging war ; there will perhaps be something which may be 
 granted to him if he comes before us as a suppliant. 
 
 II. But to send embassadors to a man respecting whom 
 you passed a most dignified and severe decision only thirteen 
 days ago, is not an act of lenity, tut, if I am to speak my real 
 opinion, of downright madness. In the first place, you praised 
 those generals who, of their own head, had undertaken war 
 against him ; in the next place, you praised the veterans who, 
 though they had been settled in those colonies by Antonius, 
 preferred the liberty of the Eoman people to the obligations 
 which they were under to him. Is it not so 1 Why was the 
 
372 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Martial legion ? why was the fourth legion praised 1 For if 
 they have deserted the consul, they ought to be blamed ; if 
 they have abandoned an enemy to the republic, then they are 
 deservedly praised. 
 
 But as at that time you had not yet got any consuls, you 
 passed a decree that a motion concerning the rewards for the 
 soldiers and the honors to be conferred on the generals should 
 be submitted to you at the earliest opportunity. Are you 
 then going now to arrange rewards for those men who have 
 taken arms against Antonius, and to send embassadors to An- 
 tonius ? so as to deserve to be ashamed that the legions should 
 have come to more honorable resolutions than the senate : if, 
 indeed, the legions have resolved to defend the senate agaiusfc 
 Antonius, but the senate decrees to send embassadors to An- 
 tonius. Is this encouraging the spirit of the soldiers, or damp- 
 ing their virtue? 
 
 This is what we have gained in the last twelve days, tha" 
 the man whom no single person except Cotyla was then found 
 to defend, has now advocates, even of consular rank. Would 
 that they had all been asked their opinion before me (although 
 I have my suspicions as to what some of those men who will 
 be asked after me, are intending to say) ; I should find it easier 
 to speak against them if any argument appeared to have been 
 advanced. 
 
 For there is an opinion in some quarters, that some one in- 
 tends to propose to decree Antonius that farther Gaul, which 
 Plancus is at present in possession of. What else is that but 
 supplying an enemy with all the arms necessary for civil war : 
 first of all with the sinews of war, money in abundance, of 
 which he is at present destitute ; and secondly, with as much 
 cavalry as he pleases ? Cavalry do I say ? He is a likely 
 man to hesitate, I suppose, to bring with him the barbarian 
 nations; — a man who does not see this is senseless; he who 
 does see it, and still advocates such a measure, is impious. 
 Will you furnish a wicked and desperate citizen with an army 
 of Gauls and Germans, withlnoney, and infantry, ami cavalry, 
 and all sorts of resources ? All these excuses arc no excuse 
 a t all: — "He is a friend of mine." Let him first be a friend 
 of his country : — " He is a relation of mine." Can any rela- 
 tionship be nearer than that of one's country, in which even 
 one's parents are comprised? "He has given me money:" — 
 I should like to see the man who will dare to say that. Hut 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 373 
 
 when I have explained what is the real object aimed at, it 
 will be easy for you to decide which opinion you ought to 
 agree with and adopt. 
 
 III. The matter at issue is, whether power is to be given 
 to Marcus Antonius of oppressing the republic, of massacring 
 the virtuous citizens, of plundering the city, of distributing 
 the lands among his robbers, of overwhelming the Roman peo- 
 ple in slavery ; or, whether he is not to be allowed to do all 
 this. Do you doubt what you are to do? " Oh, but all this 
 does not apply to Antonius." Even Cotyla would not ven- 
 ture to say that. For what does not apply to him ! A man 
 who, while he says that he is defending the acts of another, 
 perverts all those laws of his which we might most properly 
 praise. Caesar wished to drain the marshes : this man has 
 given all Italy to that moderate man Lucius Antonius to dis- 
 tribute. — Whatl has the Roman people adopted this law? 
 — What? could it be passed with a proper regard for the 
 auspices? But this conscientious augur acts in reference to 
 the auspices without his colleagues. Although those auspices 
 do not require any interpretation ; — for who is there who is 
 ignorant that it is impious to submit any motion to the peo- 
 ple while it is thundering ? The tribunes of the people car- 
 ried laws respecting the provinces in opposition to the acts of 
 Caesar ; Caesar had extended the provisions of his law over 
 two years ; Antonius over six years. Has then the Roman 
 people adopted this law ? What ? was it ever regularly pro- 
 mulgated ? What ? was it not passed before it was even 
 drawn up ? Did we not see the deed done before we even 
 suspected that it was going to be done ! » Where is the Caecil- 
 ian and Didian law ? What is become of the law that such 
 bills should be published on three market-days? What is 
 become of the penalty appointed by the recent Junian and 
 Licinian law? Can these laws be ratified without the de- 
 struction of all other laws ! Has any one had a right of 
 entering the forum? Moreover, what thunder, and what a 
 storm that was ! so that even if the consideration of the aus- 
 pices had no weight with Marcus Antonius, it would seem 
 strange that he could endure and bear such exceeding vio- 
 lence of tempest, and rain, and whirlwind. When therefore 
 he, as augur, says that he carried a law while Jupiter was not 
 only thundering, but almost uttering an express prohibition 
 of it by his clamor from heaven, will he hesitate to confess 
 
374 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 that it was carried in violation of the auspices V "What ? doe? 
 the virtuous augur think that it has nothing to do with the 
 auspices, that he carried the law with the aid of that col- 
 league whose election he himself vitiated by giving notice of 
 the auspices 1 
 
 IV. But perhaps we, who are his colleagues, may be the 
 interpreters of the auspices? Do we also want interpreters 
 of arms ? In the first place, all the approaches to the forum 
 were so fenced round, that even if no armed men were stand- 
 ing in the way, still it would have been impossible to enter 
 the forum except by tearing down the barricades. But the 
 guards were arranged in such a manner, that, as the access of 
 an enemy to a city is prevented, so you might in this instance 
 see the burgesses and the tribunes of the people cut off by 
 forts and works from all entrance to the forum. On which 
 account I give my vote that those laws which Marcus Anto- 
 nius is said to have carried were all carried by violence, and 
 in violation of the auspices ; and that the people is not bound 
 by them. If Marcus Antonius is said to have carried any 
 law about confirming the acts of Caesar and abolishing the 
 dictatorship forever, and of leading colonies into any lands, 
 then I vote that those laws be passed over again, with a due 
 regard to the auspices, so that they may bind the people. 
 For although they may be good measures which he passed ir- 
 regularly and by violence, still they are not to be accounted 
 laws, and the whole audacity of this frantic gladiator must be 
 repudiated by our authority. But that squandering of the 
 public money can not possibly be endured by which he got rid 
 of seven hundred millions of sesterces by forged entries and 
 deeds of gifts, so that it seems an absolute miracle that so 
 vast a sum of money belonging to the Roman people can have 
 disappeared in so short a time. What? are those enormous 
 profits to be endured which the household of Marcus Anto- 
 nius has swallowed up ? He was continually selling forged 
 decrees; ordering the names of kingdoms and states, and 
 grants of exemptions to be engraved on brass, having received 
 bribes for such orders. And his statement always was, that 
 he was doing these things in obedience to the memoranda of 
 ' Caesar, of which he himself was the author. In the interior 
 of his house there was going on a brisk market of the whole 
 republic. His wife, more fortunate for herself than for her 
 husband, wa* holding an auction of kingdoms and provinces: 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 375 
 
 exiles were restored without any law, as if by law : and un- 
 less all these acts are rescinded by the authority of the sen- 
 ate, now that we have again arrived at a hope of recovering 
 the republic, there will be no likeness of a free city left to us* 
 
 Nor is it only by the sale of forged memoranda and auto- 
 graphs that a countless sum of money was collected together 
 in that house, while Antonius, whatever he sold, said that he 
 was acting in obedience to the papers of Caesar ; but he even 
 took bribes to make false entries of the resolutions of the sen- 
 ate ; to seal forged contracts ; and resolutions of the senate 
 that had never been passed were entered on the records of 
 that treasury. Of all this baseness even foreign nations were 
 witnesses. In the mean time treaties were made ; kingdoms 
 given away"; nations and provinces released from the burdens 
 of the state ; and false memorials of all these transactions were 
 fixed up all over the Capitol, amid the groans of the Eoman 
 people. And by all these proceedings so vast a sum of money 
 was collected in one house, that if it were all made available, 
 the Roman people would never want money again. 
 
 V. Moreover, he passed a law to regulate judicial proceed- 
 ings, this chaste and upright man, this upholder of the tribu- 
 nals and the law. And in this he deceived us. He used to 
 say that he appointed men from the front ranks of the army, 
 common soldiers, men of the Alauda, 1 as judges. But he has 
 in reality selected gamesters; he has selected exiles; he has 
 selected Greeks. Oh the fine bench of judges ! Oh the admi- 
 rable dignity of that council ! I do long to plead in behalf 
 of some defendant before that tribunal — Cyda of Crete; a 
 prodigy even in that island ; the most audacious and aban- 
 doned of men. But even suppose he were not so. Does he 
 understand Latin? Is he qualified by birth and station to 
 be a judge! Does he — which is most important — does he 
 know any thing about our laws and manners ? Is he even 
 acquainted with any of the citizens'? Why, Crete is better 
 known to you than Rome is to Cyda. In fact, the selection 
 and appointment of the judges has usually been confined to 
 our own citizens. But who ever knew, or could possibly have 
 known this Gortynian judge? For Lysiades, the Athenian, 
 we most of us do know. For he is the son of Phsedrus, an 
 eminent philosopher. And, besides, he is a witty man, so that 
 he will be able to get on very well with Marcus Curius, who 
 
 1 It has been already explained that this was the name of one legion. 
 
376 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 will be one of his colleagues, and with whom he is in the habit 
 of playing. I ask if Lysiades, when summoned as a judge, 
 should not answer to his name, and should have an excuse 
 alleged for him that he is an Areopagite, and that he is not 
 bound to act as a judge at both Rome and Athens at the same 
 time, will the man who presides over the investigation admit 
 the excuse of this Greekling judge, at one time a Greek, and 
 at another a Eoman? Or will he disregard the most ancient 
 laws of the Athenians ? 
 
 And what a bench will it be, O ye good gods ! A Cretan 
 judge, and he the most worthless of men. Whom can a de- 
 fendant employ to propitiate him? How is he to get at 
 him? He comes of a hard nation. But the Athenians are 
 merciful. I dare say that Curius, too, is not cruel, inasmuch 
 as he is a man who is himself at the mercy of fortune every 
 day. There are besides other chosen judges who will perhaps 
 be excused. For they have a legitimate excuse, that they have 
 left their country in banishment, and that they have not been 
 restored since. And would that madman have chosen these 
 men as judges, would he have entered their names as such in 
 the treasury, would he have trusted a great portion of the re- 
 public to them, if he had intended to leave the least semblance 
 of a republic? 
 
 VI. And I have been speaking of those judges who are 
 known. Those whom you are less acquainted with I have 
 been unwilling to name. Know then that dancers, harp-play- 
 ers, the whole troop, in fact, of Antonius's revelers, have all 
 been pitchforked into the third decury of judges. Now you 
 see the object of passing so splendid and admirable a law, 
 amidst excessive rain, storm, wind, tempest, and whirlwind, 
 amidst thunder and lightning; it was that he might have 
 those men for our judges whom no one would like to have for 
 guests. It is the enormity of his wickedness, the conscious- 
 ness of his crimes, the plunder of that money of which the 
 account was kept in the temple of Ops, which have been the 
 real inventors of this third decury. And infamous judges 
 were not sought for, till all hope of safety for the guilty was 
 despaired of, if they came before respectable ones. But what 
 must have been the impudence, what must have been the iniq- 
 uity of a man who dared to select those men as judges, by 
 the selection of whom a double disgrace was stamped on the 
 republic : one, because the judges were so infamous ; the other. 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 377 
 
 because by this step it was revealed and published to the world 
 how many infamous citizens we had in the republic? These 
 then, and all other similar laws, I should vote ought to be an- 
 nulled, even if they had been passed without violence, and with 
 all proper respect for the auspices. But now why need I vote 
 that they ought to be annulled, when I do not consider that 
 they were ever legally passed ? 
 
 Is not this, too, to be marked with the deepest ignominy, 
 and with the severest animadversion of this order, so as to be 
 recollected by all posterity, that Marcus Antonius (the first 
 man who has ever done so since the foundation of the cit}') 
 has openly taken armed men about with him in this city % A 
 thing which the kings never did, nor those men who, since 
 the kings have been banished, have endeavored to seize on 
 kingly power. I can recollect Cinna ; I have seen Sylla ; 
 and lately Ca?sar. For these three men are the only ones 
 since the city was delivered by Lucius Brutus, who have had 
 more power than the entire republic. I can not assert that no 
 man in their trains had weapons. This I do say, that they 
 had not many, and that they concealed them. But this pest 
 was attended by an army of armed men. Classitius, Mus'tela, 
 and Tiro, openly displaying their swords, led troops of fellows 
 like themselves through the forum. Barbarian archers occu- 
 pied their regular place in the army. And when they arrived 
 at the temple of Concord, the steps were crowded, the litters 
 full of shields were arranged ; not because he wished the shields 
 to be concealed, but that his friends might not be fatigued by 
 carrying the shields themselves. 
 
 VII. And what was most infamous not only to see, but 
 even to hear of, armed men, robbers, assassins were stationed 
 in the temple of Concord ; the temple was turned into a 
 prison ; the doors of the temple were closed, and the conscript 
 fathers delivered their opinions while robbers were standing 
 among the benches of the senators. And if I did not come 
 to a senate-house in this state, he, on the first of September, 
 said that he would send carpenters and pull down my house. 
 It was an important affair, I suppose, that was to be dis- 
 cussed. He made some motion about a supplication. I at- 
 tended the day after. He himself did not come. I deliv- 
 ered my opinion about the republic, not indeed with quite so 
 much freedom as usual, but still with more than the threats 
 of personal danger to myself made perhaps advisable. But 
 
378 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 that violent and furious man (for Lucius Fiso had done the 
 same thing with great credit thirty davs before) threatened 
 me with his enmity, and ordered me to attend the senate on 
 the nineteenth of September. In the mean time he spent the 
 whole of the intervening seventeen days in the villa of Scip- 
 io, at Tibur, declaiming against me to make himself thirst)-. 
 For this is his usual object in declaiming. * When the day 
 arrived on which he had ordered me to attend, then he came 
 with a regular army in battle array to the temple of Concord, 
 and out of his impure mouth vomited forth an oration against 
 me in my absence. On which day, if my friends had not 
 prevented me from attending the senate as I was anxious to 
 do, he would have begun a massacre by the slaughter of me. 
 For that was what he had resolved to do. And when once 
 he had dyed his sword in blood, nothing would have made 
 him leave off but pure fatigue and satiety. In truth, his 
 brother, Lucius Antonius, was present, an Asiatic gladiator, 
 who had fought as a Mirmillo, 1 at Mylasa ; he was thirsting 
 for my blood, and had shed much of his own in that glad- 
 iatorial combat. He was now valuing our property in his 
 mind, taking notice of our possessions in the city and in the 
 country ; his indigence united with his covetousness was threat- 
 ening all our fortunes ; he was distributing our lands to whom- 
 soever and in whatever shares he pleased ; no private indi- 
 vidual could get access to him, or find any means to pro- 
 pitiate him, and induce him to act with justice. Every for- 
 mer proprietor had just so much property as Antonius left 
 him after the division of his estate. And although all these 
 proceedings can not be ratified, if you annul his laws, still 
 I think that they ought all to be separately taken note of, 
 article by article ; and that we ought formally to decide that 
 the appointment of septemvirs was null and void; and that 
 nothing is ratified which is said to have been done by them. 
 
 VIII. But who is there who can consider Marcus Anto- 
 nius a citizen, rather than a most foul and barbarous enemy, 
 who, while sitting in front of the temple of Castor, in the 
 hearing of the Roman people, said that no one should survive 
 except those who were victorious? Do you suppose, O con- 
 script fathers, that he spoke with more violence than he would 
 net'? And what are we to think of his having ventured to 
 
 1 The mirmillo was the gladiator who fought with the retiarius ; ho 
 Wore a Gallic helmet with a fish for a crest. 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 379 
 
 Say that, after he had given up his magistracy, he should still 
 be at the city with his army? that he should enter the city 
 as often as he pleased? What else was this but threatening 
 the Eoman people with slavery ?^ And what was the object 
 of his journey to Brundusium? and of that great haste? 
 What was his hope, except to lead that vast army to the city, 
 or rather into the city? What a proceeding was that selec- 
 tion of the centurions! What unbridled fury of an intem- 
 perate mind ! For when those gallant legions had raised an 
 outcry against his promises, he ordered those centurions to 
 come to him to his house, whom he perceived to be loyally 
 attached to the republic, and then he had them all murdered 
 before his own eyes and those of his wife, whom this noble 
 commander had taken with him to the army. What dis- 
 position do you suppose that this man will display toward 
 us whom he hates, when he was so cruel to those men whom 
 he had never seen? And how covetous will he be with re- 
 spect to the money of rich men, when he thirsted for even the 
 blood of poor men ? whose property, such as it was, he imme- 
 diately divided among his satellites and boon companions. 
 
 And he in a fury was now moving his hostile standards 
 against his country from Brundusium, when Caius Caesar, by 
 the kind inspiration of the immortal gods, by the greatness 
 of his own heavenly courage, and wisdom, and genius, of his 
 own accord, indeed, and prompted by his own admirable vir- 
 tue, but still with the approbation of my authority, went down 
 to the colonies which had been founded by his father ; con- 
 voked the veteran soldiery ; in a few days raised an army ; and 
 checked the furious advance of this bandit. But after the 
 Martial legion saw this admirable leader, it had no other 
 thoughts but those of securing our liberty. And the fourth 
 legion followed its example. 
 
 IX. And Antonius, on hearing of this news, after he had 
 summoned the senate, and provided a man of consular rank 
 to declare his opinion that Caius Caesar was an enemy of his 
 country, immediately fainted away. ^ And afterward, without 
 either performing the usual sacrifices, or offering the custom- 
 ary vows, he, I will not say went forth, but took to flight 
 in his robe as a general. But which way did he flee ? To 
 the province of our most resolute and bravest citizens ; men 
 who could never have endured him if he had not come bring- 
 ing war in his train, an intemperate, passionate, insolert, 
 
380 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 proud man, always making demands, always plundering, al- 
 ways drunk. But he, whose worthlessness even when quiet 
 was more than any one could endure, has declared war upon 
 the province of Gaul ; he is besieging Mutina, a valiant and 
 splendid colony of the Roman people ; he is blockading Dec- 
 imus Brutus, the general, the consul elect, a citizen born not 
 for himself, but for us and the republic Was then Han- 
 nibal an enemy, and is Antonius a citizen? What did the 
 one do like an enemy, that the other has not done, or is not 
 doing, or planning, and thinking of 1 ? AVhat was there in the 
 whole of the journey of the Antonii ; except depopulation, 
 devastation, slaughter, and rapine? Actions which Hannibal 
 never did, because he was reserving many things for his own 
 use, these men do, as men who live merely for the present 
 hour ; they never have given a thought not only to the for- 
 tunes and welfare of the citizens, but not even to their own 
 advantage. 
 
 Are we then, O ye good gods, to resolve to send embassa- 
 dors to this man? Are those men who propose this acquaint- 
 ed with the constitution of the republic, with the laws of war, 
 with the precedents of our ancestors ? Do they give a thought 
 to what the majesty of the Roman people and the severity 
 of the senate requires? Do you resolve to send embassadors? 
 If to beg his mercy, he will despise you ; if to declare your 
 commands, he will not listen to them ; and last of all, how- 
 ever severe the message may be which we give the embassa- 1 
 dors, the very name of embassadors will extinguish this ar- 
 dor of the Roman people which we see at present, and break 
 the spirit of the municipal towns and of Italy. To say no- 
 thing of these arguments, though they are weighty, at all 
 events that sending of an embassy will cause delay and slow- 
 ness to the war. Although those who propose it should say, 
 as I hear that some intend to say, — "Let the embassadors 
 go, but let war be prepared for all the same." Still the very 
 name of embassadors will damp men's courage, and delay the 
 rapidity of the war. 
 
 X. The most important events, O conscript fathers, are oft- 
 en determined by, very trivial moving influences in every cir- 
 cumstance that can happen in the republic, and also in war, 
 and especially in civil war, which is usually governed a great 
 deal by men's opinions and by reports. ISo one will ask what 
 is the commission with which we have sent the embassadors; 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 381 
 
 the mere name of an embassy, and that sent by us of our 
 own accord, will appear an indication of fear. Let him depart 
 from Mutina ; let him cease to attack Brutus ; let him retire 
 from Gaul. He must not be begged in words to do so ; he 
 must be compelled by arms. For we are not sending to Han- 
 nibal to desire him to retire from before Sa^untum ; to whom 
 the senate formerly sent Publius Valerius Flaccus and Quin- 
 tus Basbius Tampilus ; who, if Hannibal did not comply, were 
 ordered to proceed to Carthage. Whither do we order our 
 embassadors to proceed, if Antonius does not comply? Are 
 we sending an embassy to our own citizen, to beg him not to 
 attack a general and a colony of the Roman people? Is it 
 so? Is it becoming to us to beg this by means of embassa- 
 dors? What is the difference, in the name of the immortal 
 gods, whether he attacks this city itself, or whether he attacks 
 an outpost of this city, a colony of the Roman people, estab- 
 lished for the sake of its being a bulwark and protection 
 to us? The siege of Saguntum was the cause of the second 
 Punic war, which Hannibal carried on against our ancestors. 
 It was quite right to send embassadors to him. They were 
 sent to a Carthaginian, they were sent on behalf of those who 
 were the enemies of Hannibal, and our allies. "What is there 
 resembling that case here? We are sending to one of our 
 own citizens to beg him not to blockade a general of the Eo- 
 man army, not to attack our arm} r and our colony, — in short, 
 not to be an enemy of ours. Come ; suppose he obeys, shall 
 we either be inclined, or shall we be able by any possibility, to 
 treat him as one of our citizens ? 
 
 XL On the nineteenth of December, you overwhelmed him 
 with your decrees ; you ordained that this motion should be 
 submitted to you on the first of January, which you see is 
 submitted now, respecting the honors and rewards to be con- 
 ferred on those who have deserved or do deserve well of the 
 republic. And the chief of those men you have adjudged to 
 be the man who really has done so, Caius Cresar, who had 
 diverted the nefarious attacks of Marcus Antonius against this 
 city, and compelled him to direct them against Gaul; and 
 next to him you consider the veteran soldiers who first fol- 
 lowed Caesar ; then those excellent and heavenly-minded le- 
 gions the Martial and the fourth, to whom you Have promised 
 honors and rewards, for having not only abandoned their con- 
 sul, but for having even declared war against him. And on 
 
382 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the same day, having a decree brought before you and pub*, 
 lished on purpose, you praised the conduct of Decimus Brutus, 
 a most excellent citizen, and sanctioned with your public au- 
 thority this war which he had undertaken of his own head. 
 
 What else, then, did you do on that day except pronounce 
 Antonius a public enemy? After these decrees of yours, will 
 it be possible for him to look upon you with equanimity, or 
 for you to behold him without the most excessive indignation? 
 He has been excluded and cut off and wholly separated from 
 the republic, not merely by his own wickedness, as it seems to 
 me, but by some especial good fortune of the republic. And 
 if he should comply with the demands of the embassadors and 
 return to Eome, do you suppose that abandoned citizens will 
 ever be in need of a standard around which to rally? But 
 this is not what I am so much afraid of. There are other 
 things which I am more apprehensive of and more alarmed 
 at. He never will comply with the demands of the embassa- 
 dors. I know the man's insanity and arrogance ; I know the 
 desperate counsels of his friends, to which he is wholly given 
 up. Lucius his brother, as being a man who has fought 
 abroad, leads on his household. Even suppose him to be in 
 his senses himself, which he never will be ; still he will not be 
 allowed by these men to act as if he were so. In the mean 
 time, time will be wasted. The preparations for war will 
 cool. How is it that the war has been protracted as long as 
 this, if it be not by procrastination and delay 1 
 
 From the very first moment after the departure, or rather 
 after the hopeless flight of that bandit, that the senate could, 
 have met in freedom, I have always been demanding that we 
 should be called together. The first day that we were called 
 together, when the consuls elect were not present, I laid, in 
 my opinion, amidst the greatest unanimity on your part, the 
 foundations of the republic ; later, indeed, than they should 
 have been laid ; for I could not do so before ; but still if no 
 time had been lost after that day, we should have no war at 
 all now. Every evil is easily crushed at its birth ; when it 
 has become of long standing, it usually gets stronger. But 
 then every body was waiting for the first of January ; perhaps 
 not very wisely. 
 
 XII. However, let us say no more of what is past. Are 
 we still to allow any farther delay while the embassadors are 
 on their road to him? and while they are coming back again I 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 383 
 
 and the time spent in waiting for them will make men doubt 
 about the war. And while the fact of the war is in doubt, 
 how can men possibly be zealous about the levies for the 
 army ? 
 
 Wherefore, O conscript fathers, I give my vote that there 
 should be no mention made of embassadors. I think that the 
 business that is to be done must be done without any delay. 
 and instantly. I say that it is necessary that we should de- 
 cree that there is sedition abroad, that we should suspend the 
 regular courts of justice, order all men to wear the garb of 
 war, and enlist men in all quarters, suspending all exemptions 
 from military service in the city and in all Italy, except in 
 Gaul. And if this be done, the general opinion and report of 
 your severity will overwhelm the insanity of that wicked glad- 
 iator. He will feel that he has undertaken a war against the 
 republic ; he will experience the sinews and vigor of a unan- 
 imous senate. For at present he is constantly saying that it 
 is a mere struggle between parties. Between what parties? 
 One party is defeated ; the other is the heart of Caius Caesar's 
 party. Unless, indeed, we believe that the party of Cassar is 
 attacked by Pansa and Hirtius the consuls, and by Caius Cas- 
 par's son. But this war has been kindled, not by a struggle 
 between parties, but by the nefarious hopes of the most aban- 
 doned citizens ; by whom all our estates and properties have 
 been marked down, and already distributed according as every 
 one has thought them desirable. 
 
 I have read the letter of Antonius which he sent to one of 
 the septemviri, a thorough-paced scoundrel, a colleague of his 
 own. " Look out, and see what you take a fancy to ; what 
 you do fancy you shall certainly have." See to what a man 
 we are sending embassadors ; against what a man we are de- 
 laying to make war ; a man who does not even let us draw 
 lots for our fortunes, but hands us over to each man's caprice 
 in such a way, that he has not left even himself any thing un- 
 touched, or which has not been promised to somebody. With 
 this man, O conscript fathers, we must wage war, — war, I say, 
 and that instantly. We must reject the slow proceedings of 
 embassadors. 
 
 Therefore, that we may not have a number of decrees to 
 pass every day, I give my vote that the whole republic should 
 be committed to the consuls ; and that they should have a 
 :harge given them to defend the republic, and to take care 
 
38-4 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 "that the republic suffer no injury." And I give my yote 
 that those men who are in the army of Antonius be not 
 visited with blame, if they leave him before the first of Feb- 
 ruary. 
 
 If you adopt these proposals 01 mine, O conscript fathers, 
 you will in a short time recover the liberty of the Eoman 
 people and your own authority. But if you act with more 
 mildness, still you will pass those resolutions, but perhaps you 
 will pass them too late. As to the general welfare of the re- 
 public, on which you, O consuls, have consulted us, I think 
 that I have proposed what is sufficient. 
 
 XIII. The next question is about honors. And to this 
 point I perceive that I must speak next. But I will preserve 
 the same order in paying respect to brave men, that is usual- 
 ly preserved in asking their opinions. 
 
 Let us, therefore, according to the usages of our ancestors, 
 begin with Brutus, the consul elect; and, to say nothing of 
 his former conduct, — which has indeed been most admirable, 
 but still such as has been praised by the individual judgments 
 of men, rather than by public authority, — what words can 
 we find adequate to his praise at this very time ? For such 
 great virtue requires no reward except this one of praise and 
 glory ; and even if it were not to receive that, still it would 
 be content with itself, and would rejoice at being laid up in 
 the recollection of grateful citizens, as if it were placed in the 
 full light. The praise then of our deliberate opinion, and of 
 our testimony in his favor, must be given to Brutus. There- 
 fore, O conscript fathers, I give my vote that a resolution of 
 the senate be passed in these words : 
 
 " As Decimus Brutus, imperator, consul elect, is maintain- 
 ing the province of Gaul in obedience to the senate and peo- 
 ple of Rome ; and as he has enlisted and collected in so short 
 a time a very numerous army, being aided by the admirable 
 zeal of the municipal towns and colonies of the province of 
 Gaul, which has deserved and still does deserve admirably 
 well of the republic ; he has acted rightly and virtuously,' and 
 greatly for the advantage of the republic. And that most 
 excellent service done by Decimus Brutus to the republic, is 
 and always will be grateful to the senate and people of Borne. 
 Therefore, the senate and the Roman people is of opinion that 
 the exertions, and prudence, and virtue of Decimus Brutus, 
 imperator and consul elect, and the incredible zeal and una 
 
iRE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 385 
 
 uiniity of the province of Gaul, have been a great assistance 
 to the republic, at a most critical time." 
 
 What honor, O conscript fathers, can be too great to be due 
 to such a mighty service as this of Brutus, and to such im- 
 portant aid as he has afforded the republic ! For if Gaul had 
 been open to Marcus Antonius — if after having overwhelmed 
 the municipal towns and colonies unprepared to resist him, he 
 had been able to penetrate into that farther Gaul — what great 
 danger would have hung over the republic ! That most in- 
 sane of men, that man so headlong and furious in all his 
 courses, would have been likely, I suppose, to hesitate at wag- 
 ing war against us ? not only with his own army, but with all 
 the savage troops of barbarism ; so that even the wall of the 
 Alps would not have enabled us to check his phrensy. These 
 thanks then will be deservedly paid to Decimus Brutus, who, 
 before any authority of yours had been interposed, acting on 
 his own judgment and responsibility, refused to receive him 
 as consul, but repelled him from Gaul as an enemy, and pre- 
 ferred to be besieged himself rather than to allow this city to 
 be so. Let him therefore have, by your decree, an everlasting 
 testimony to this most important and glorious action ; and let 
 Gaul, 1 which always is and has been a protection to this em- 
 pire and to the general liberty, be deservedly and truly praised 
 for not having surrendered herself and her power to Antonius, 
 but for having opposed him with them. 
 
 XIV. And, fart herm ore, I give my vote that the most am. 
 pie honors be decreed to Marcus Lepidus, as a reward for his 
 eminent services to the republic. He has at all times wished 
 the Roman people to be free ; and he gave the greatest proof 
 of his inclination and opinion on that day, when, while An. 
 tonius was placing the diadem on Caesar's head, he turned his 
 face away, and by his groans and sorrow showed plainly what 
 -a hatred of slavery he had, how desirous he was for the Ro- 
 man people to be free, and how he had endured those things 
 which he had endured, more because of the necessity of the 
 times, than because they harmonized with his sentiments, 
 And who of us can forget with what great moderation he be- 
 haved during that crisis of the city which ensued after the 
 death of Cassar ? These are great merits ; but I hasten to 
 
 1 The English reader must recollect that what is called Gaul in these 
 orations, is Cisalpine Gaul, containing what we now call the North (A 
 Jtalv. coming down as far south as Modena and Ravenna. 
 
336 CICERO'S ORATIONS- 
 
 speak of greater still. For (O ye immortal gods !) what 
 could happen more to be admired by foreign nations, or more 
 to be desired by the Roman people, than, at a time when there 
 was a most important civil w r ar, the result of which we were 
 all dreading, that it should be extinguished by prudence rather 
 than that arms and violence should be able to put every thing 
 to the hazard of a battle? And if Caesar had been guided 
 by the same principles in that odious and miserable war, we 
 should have — to say nothing of their father — the two sons of 
 Cnaeus Pompeius, that most illustrious and virtuous man, safe 
 among us ; men whose piety and filial affection certainly ought 
 not to have been their ruin. Would that Marcus Lepidus had 
 been able to save them all ! He showed that he would have 
 done so, by his conduct in cases where he had the power ; when 
 he restored Sextus Pompeius to the state, a great ornament to 
 the republic, and a most illustrious monument of his clemen- 
 cy. Sad was that picture, melancholy was the destiny then 
 of the Roman people. For after Pompeius the father was 
 dead, he who was the light of the Roman people, the son too, 
 who was wholly like his father, was also slain. Put all these 
 calamities appear to me to have been effaced by the kindness 
 of the immortal gods, Sextus Pompeius being preserved to the 
 republic. 
 
 XV. For which cause, reasonable and important as it is, 
 and because Marcus Lepidus, by his humanity and wisdom, 
 has changed a most dangerous and extensive civil war into 
 peace and concord, I give my vote, that a resolution of the 
 senate be drawn up in these words : 
 
 "Since the affairs of the republic have repeatedly been well 
 and prosperously conducted by Marcus Lepidus, imperator, 
 and Pontifex Maximus, and since the Roman people is fully 
 aware that kingly power is very displeasing to him ; and sinco 
 by his exertions, and virtue, and prudence, and singular clem- 
 ency and humanity, a most bitter civil war has been extinguish- 
 ed; and Sextus Pompeius Magnus, the son of Cnaeus, having 
 submitted to the authority of this order and laid down his arms, 
 and, in accordance with the perfect good-will of the senate 
 and people of Rome, has been restored to the state by Marcus 
 Lepidus, imperator, and Pontifex Maximus ; the senate and 
 people of Rome, in return for the important and numerous 
 services of Marcus Lepidus to the republic, declares that it 
 places great hopes of future tranquillity and peace and con- 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 387 
 
 cord, in his virtue, authority, and good fortune ; and the senate 
 and people of Rome will ever remember his services to the 
 republic ; and it is decreed by the vote of this order, That a 
 gilt equestrian statue be erected to him in the Rostra, or in 
 whatever other place in the forum he pleases." 
 
 And this honor, O conscript fathers, appears to me a very 
 great one, in the first place, because it is just ; — for it is not 
 merely given on account of our hopes of the future, but it is 
 paid, as it were, in requital of his ample services already done. 
 Nor are we able to mention any instance of this honor having 
 been conferred on any one by the senate by their own free and 
 voluntary judgment before. 
 
 XVI. I come now to Caius Caesar, O conscript fathers ; if 
 he had not existed, which of us could have been alive now ? 
 That most intemperate of men, Antonius, was flying from 
 Brundusium to the city, burning with hatred, with a disposi- 
 tion hostile to all good men, with an army. What w r as there 
 to oppose to his audacity and wickedness? We had not as 
 yet any generals, or any forces. There was no public council, 
 no liberty ; our necks were at the mercy of his nefarious cru- 
 elty ; we were all preparing to have recourse to flight, though 
 flight itself had no escape for us. Who was it — what god was 
 it, who at that time gave to the Roman people this godlike 
 young man, who, while every means for completing our de- 
 struction seemed open to that most pernicious citizen, rising 
 up on a sudden, beyond every one's hope, completed an army 
 fit to oppose to the fury of Marcus Antonius before any one 
 suspected that he was thinking of any such step % Great hon- 
 ors were paid to Cnaeus Pompeius when he was a young man, 
 and deservedly ; for he came to the assistance of the republic ; 
 but he was of a more vigorous age, and more calculated to meet 
 the eager requirements of soldiers seeking a general. He had 
 also been already trained in other kinds of war. For the cause 
 of Sylla was not agreeable to all men. The multitude of the 
 proscribed, and the enormous calamities that fell on so many 
 municipal towns, show this plainly. But Caesar, though many 
 years younger, armed veterans who were now eager to rest ; 
 he has embraced that cause which was mo^t agreeable to the 
 senate, to the people, to all Italy > — in short, to gods and men. 
 And Pompeius came as a reinforcement to the extensive com' 
 „ mand and victorious army of Lucius Sylla ; Caesar had no 
 one to join himself to. He, of his own accord, was the au- 
 
388 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 thor and executor of his plan of levying an army, and array- 
 ing a defense for us. Pompeius found the whole Picene dis- 
 trict hostile to the party of his adversaries; but Caesar has 
 levied an army against Antonius from men who were An- 
 tonius's own friends, but still greater friends to liberty. It 
 was owing to the influence of Pompeius that Sylla was en- 
 abled to act like a king. It is by the protection afforded us 
 by Csesar that the tyranny of Antonius has been put down. 
 
 Let us then confer on Caesar a regular military command, 
 without which the military affairs can not be directed, the 
 army can not be held together, war can not be waged. Let 
 him be made propraetor with all the privileges which have 
 ever been attached to that appointment. That honor, al- 
 though it is a great one for a man of his age, still is not mere- 
 ly of influence as giving dignity, but it confers powers calcu- 
 lated to meet the present emergency. Therefore, let us seek 
 for honors for him which we shall not easily find at the pres- 
 ent day. 
 
 XVII. But I hope that we and the Roman people shall 
 often have an opportunity ofy complimenting and honoring 
 this young man. But at the present moment I give my vote 
 that we should pass a decree in this form : 
 
 " As Caius Caesar, the son of Caius, pontiff and propraetor, 
 lias at a most critical period of the republic exhorted the vet- 
 eran soldiers to defend the liberty of the Roman people, and 
 has enlisted them in his army ; and as the Martial legion and 
 the fourth legion, with great zeal for the republic, and with 
 admirable unanimity, under the guidance and authority of 
 Caius Csesar, have defended and are defending the republic 
 and the liberty of the Roman people ; and as Caius Caesar, 
 propraetor, has gone with his army as a reinforcement to the 
 province of Gaul ; has made cavalry, and archers, and ele- 
 phants, obedient to himself and to the Roman people, and 
 has, at a most critical time for the republic, come to the aid 
 of the safety and dignity of the Roman people ; on these ac- 
 counts, it seems good to the senate that Cains Caesar, the son 
 of Caius, pontiff and propraetor, shall be a senator, and shall 
 deliver his opinions from the bench occupied by men of prae- 
 torian rank; and that, on occasion of his offering himself for 
 any magistracy, he shall be considered of the same legal stand- 
 ■ and qualification as if he had been quaestor the preceding 
 v. ar." 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC. 5589 
 
 For what reason can there be, O conscript fathers, why we 
 should not wish him to arrive at the highest honors at as 
 early an age as possible 1 For when, by the laws fixing the 
 age at which men might be appointed to the different magis- 
 tracies, our ancestors fixed a more mature age for the consul- 
 ship, they were influenced by fears of the precipitation of 
 youth ; Caius Caesar, at his first entrance into life, has shown 
 us that, in the case of his eminent and unparalleled virtue, 
 we have no need to wait for the progress of age. Therefore 
 our ancestors, those old men, in the most ancient times, had 
 no laws regulating the age for the different offices; it was 
 ambition which caused them to be passed many years after- 
 wards, in order that there might be among men of the same 
 age different steps for arriving at honors. And it has often 
 happened that a disposition of great natural virtue has been 
 lost before it had any opportunity of benefiting the republic. 
 V But among the ancients, the Rulli, the Decii, the Corvini, 
 and many others, and in more modern times the elder Afri- 
 canus and Titus Flaminius were made consuls very young, 
 and performed such exploits as greatly to extend the empire 
 of the Roman people, and to embellish its name. What more % 
 Did not the Macedonian Alexander, having begun to perform 
 mighty deeds from his earliest youth, die when he was only 
 in his thirty-third year 1 And that age is ten years less than 
 that fixed by our laws for a man to be eligible for the consul- 
 ship. From which it may be plainly seen that the progress 
 of virtue is often swifter than that of age. 
 
 XVILL For as to the fear which those men, who are 
 enemies of Caesar, pretend to entertain, there is not the 
 slightest reason to apprehend that he will be unable to re- 
 strain and govern himself, or that he will be so elated by the 
 honors which he receives from us as to use his power with- 
 out moderation. It is only natural, O conscript fathers, that 
 the man who has learned to appreciate real glory, and who 
 feels that he is considered by the senate and by the Roman 
 knights and the whole Roman people a citizen who is dear 
 to, and a blessing to the republic, should think nothing what- 
 ever deserving of being compared to this glory. Would that 
 it had happened to Caius Caesar — the father, I mean — when 
 he was a young man, to be beloved by the senate and by 
 every virtuous citizen ; but, having neglected to aim at that, 
 he wasted all the power of genius which he had in a most 
 
390 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 brilliant degree, in a capricious pursuit of popular favor. 
 Therefore, as he had not sufficient respect for the senate and • 
 the virtuous part of the citizens, he opened for himself that 
 path for the extension of his power, which the virtue of a free 
 people was unable to bear. 
 
 But the principles of his son are widely different ; who is 
 not only beloved by every one, but in the greatest degree by 
 the most virtuous men. In him is placed all our hope of 
 liberty ; from him already has our safety been received ; for 
 him the highest honors are sought out and prepared. While 
 therefore we are admiring his singular prudence, can we at 
 the same time fear his folly ? For what can be more foolish 
 than to prefer useless power, such influence as brings envy 
 in its train, and a rash and slippery ambition of reigning, 
 to real, dignified, solid glory? Has he seen this truth as a 
 boy, and when he has advanced in age will he cease to see it ? 
 " But he is an enemy to some most illustrious and excellent 
 citizens." That circumstance ought not to cause any fear. 
 Caesar has sacrificed all those enmities to the republic ; he 
 had made the republic his judge; he has made her the di- 
 rectress of all his counsels and actions. For he is come to 
 the service of the republic in order to strengthen her, not to 
 overturn her. I am well acquainted with all the feelings of 
 the young man : there is nothing dearer to him than the re- 
 public, nothing which he considers of more weight than your 
 authority ; nothing which he desires more than the approba- 
 tion of virtuous men ; nothing which he accounts sweeter than 
 genuine glory. 
 
 Wherefore you not only ought not to fear any thing from 
 him, but you ought to expect greater and better things still. 
 Nor ought you to apprehend with respect to a man who has 
 already gone forward to release Decimus Brutus from a siege, 
 that the recollection of his domestic injury Mill dwell in his 
 bosom, and have more weight with him than the safety of 
 the city. I will venture even to pledge my own faith, O con- 
 script fathers, to you, and to the Roman people, and to the re- 
 public, which in truth, if no necessity compelled me to do so, 
 1 would not venture to do, and in doing which on slight 
 grounds, I should be afaid of giving rise to a dangerous opin- 
 ion of my rashness in a most important business ; but I do 
 promise, and pledge myself, and undertake, O conscript fa- 
 thers, that Caius Caasar will always be such a citizen as he ip 
 
THE FIFTH PHILIPPIC 391 
 
 tTii* lay, and as we ought above all things to wish and desire 
 that he may turn out, 
 
 XIX. And as this is the case, I shall consider that I have 
 said enough at present about Caesar. 
 
 Nor do I think that we ought to pass over Lucius Egnatu- 
 leius, a most gallant and wise and firm citizen, and one thor- 
 oughly attached to the republic, in silence; but that we ought 
 to give him our testimony to his admirable virtue, because it 
 was he who led the fourth legion to Caesar, to be a protection 
 to the consuls, and senate, and people of Rome, and the re- 
 public. And for these acts I give my vote : 
 
 "That it be made lawful for Lucius Egnatuleius to stand 
 for, and be elected to, and discharge the duties of any magis- 
 tracy, three years before the legitimate time." 
 
 And by this motion, O conscript fathers, Lucius Egnatu- 
 leius does not get so much actual advantage as honor. For 
 in a case like this it is quite sufficient to be honorably men- 
 tioned. 
 
 But concerning the army of Caius Caesar, I give my vote 
 for the passing of a decree in this form : 
 
 "The senate decrees that the veteran soldiers~\ho have 
 defended and are defending * * * * of Caesar, pontiff ■ 
 and the authority of this order, should, and their children 
 after them, have an exemption from military service. And 
 that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius the consuls, one or both 
 of them, as they think fit, shall inquire what land there is in 
 those colonies in which the veteran soldiers have been settled, 
 which is occupied in defiance of the provisions of the Julian 
 law, in order that that may be divided among these veterans. 
 That they shall institute a separate inquiry about the Campa- 
 nian district, and devise a plan for increasing the advantages 
 enjoyed by these veteran soldiers ; and with respect to the 
 Martial legion, and to the fourth legion, and to those soldiers 
 of the second and thirtv-fifth legion's who have come over to 
 Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius the consuls, and have given 
 in their names, because the authority of the senate and the lib- 
 erty of the Roman people is and .always has been most dear 
 to them, the senate decrees that they and their children shall 
 have exemption from military service, except in the case of 
 any Gallic and Italian sedition ; and decrees farther, that those 
 legions shall have their discharge when this war is termin' 
 «,nd that whatever sum of money Caius Caesar, pontifiV 
 
392 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 prastor, has promised to the soldiers of those legions individ* 
 ually, shall be paid to them. And that Caius Pansa and Au- 
 lus Hirtius the consuls, one or both of them, as it seems good 
 to them, shall make an estimate of the land which can be dis- 
 tributed without injury to private individuals; and that land 
 shall be given and assigned to the soldiers of the Martial le- 
 gion and of the fourth legion, in the largest shares in which 
 land has ever been given and assigned to soldiers." 
 
 I have now spoken, O consuls, on every point concerning 
 which you have submitted a motion to us ; and if the reso- 
 lutions which I have proposed be decreed without delay, and 
 seasonably, you will the more easily prepare those measures 
 which the present time and emergency demand. But instant 
 action is necessary. And if we had adopted that earlier, we 
 should, as I have often said, now have no war at all. 
 
 THE SIXTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS 
 
 ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. 
 ADDRESSED TO THE PEOPLE. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 In respect of the honors proposed by Cicero in the last speech the sen- 
 ate agreed with him, voting to Octavius honors beyond any that Cicero 
 had proposed. But they were much divided about the question of 
 sending an embassy to Antonius ; and the consuls, seeing that a ma- 
 jority agreed with Cicero, adjourned the debate till the next day. The 
 discussion lasted three days, and the senate would at last have adopt- 
 ed all Cicero's measures, if one of the tribunes, Salvius, had not put 
 his veto on them. So that at last the embassy was ordered to be sent, 
 and Servius Sulpicius, Lucius Piso, and Lucius Philippus, appointed 
 as the embassadors ; but they were charged merely to order Antonius 
 to abandon the sie^e of Mutina, and to desist from hostilities against 
 the province of Gaul ; and farther, to proceed to Decinius Brutus in 
 Mutina, and to give him and his army the thanks of the senate and 
 people. 
 
 The length of the debates roused the curiosity of the people, who, being 
 assembled in the forum to learn the result, called on Cicero to come 
 forth and give them an account of what had been done ; on which he 
 went to the rostra, accompanied by Publius Appuleius the tribune, «uid 
 related to them all that had passed in the following speech 
 
THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. 393 
 
 I. I imagine that you have heard, O Romans, what has been 
 done in the senate, and what has been the opinion delivered 
 by each individual. For the matter which has been in dis- 
 cussion ever ^ince the first of January, has been just brought 
 to a conclusion ; with less severity indeed than it ought to 
 have been, but still in a manner not altogether unbecoming. 
 The war has been subjected to a delay, but the cause has not 
 been removed. "Wherefore, as to the question which Publius 
 Appuleius — a man united to me by many kind offices and by 
 the closest intimacy, and firmly attached to your interests — 
 has asked me, I will answer in such a manner that you may 
 be acquainted with the transactions at which you were not 
 present. 
 
 The cause which prompted our most fearless and excellent 
 consuls to submit a motion on the first of January, concern- 
 ing the general state of the republic, arose from the decree 
 which the senate passed by my advice on the nineteenth of 
 December. On that day, O Romans, were the foundations of 
 the republic first laid. For then, after a long interval, the 
 senate was free in such a manner that you too might become 
 free. On which day, indeed, — even if it had been to bring to 
 me the end of my life, — I received a sufficient reward for my 
 exertions, when you all with one heart and one voice cried 
 out together, that the republic had been a second time saved 
 by me. Stimulated by so important and so splendid a decis- 
 ion of yours in my favor, I came into the senate on the first 
 of January, with the feeling that I was bound to show my rec- 
 ollection of the character which you had imposed upon me, 
 and which I had to sustain. 
 
 Therefore, when I saw that a nefarious war was waged 
 against the republic, I thought that no delay ought to be in- 
 terposed to our pursuit of Marcus Antonius ; and I gave my 
 Vote that we ought to pursue with war that most audacious 
 man, who, having committed many atrocious crimes before, 
 was at this moment attacking a general of the Roman people, 
 and besieging your most faithful and gallant colony ; and that 
 a state of civil war ought to be proclaimed ; and I said far- 
 ther, that my opinion was that a suspension of the ordinary 
 forms of justice should be declared, and that the garb of war 
 should be assumed by the citizens, in order that all men might 
 apply themselves with more activity and en^rgv to avenging 
 the injuries of the republic, if they saw th^ a!> the emblems 
 
 R2 
 
394 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 of a regular war had been adopted by the senate. Therefore, 
 this opinion of mine, O Romans, prevailed so much for three 
 days, that although no division was come to, still all, except 
 a very few, appeared inclined to agree with me. But to-day 
 — I know not owing to what circumstance — the senate was 
 more indulgent. For the majority decided on our making ex- 
 periment, by means of embassadors, how much influence the 
 authority of the senate and your unanimity will have upon 
 Antonius. 
 
 II. I am well aware, O Romans, that this decision is disap- 
 proved of by you ; and reasonably too. For to whom are we 
 sending embassadors ? Is it not to him who, after having dis- 
 sipated and squandered the public money, and imposed laws 
 on the Roman people by violence and in violation of the au- 
 spices, — after having put the assembly of the people to flight 
 and besieged the senate, sent for the legions from Brundusium 
 to oppress the republic? who, when deserted by them, has in- 
 vaded Gaul with a troop of banditti? who is attacking Bru- 
 tus? who is besieging Mutina? How can you offer conditions 
 to, or expect equity from, or send an embassy to, or, in short, 
 have any thing in common with, this gladiator? although, O 
 Romans, it is not an embassy, but a denunciation of war if 
 he does not obey. For the decree has been drawn up as if 
 embassadors were being sent to Hannibal. For men are sent 
 to order him not to attack the consul elect, not to besiege Mu- 
 tina, not to \a.y waste the province, not to enlist troops, but to 
 submit himself to the power of the senate and people of Rome. 
 No doubt he is a likely man to obey this injunction, and to 
 submit to the power of the conscript fathers and to yours, who 
 has never even had any mastery over himself. For what has 
 he ever done that showed any discretion, being always led 
 away wherever his lust, or his levity, or his phrensy, or his 
 drunkenness has hurried him? He has always been under 
 the dominion of two very dissimilar classes of men, pimps 
 and robbers ; he is so fond of domestic adulteries and forensic 
 murders, that he would rather obey a most covetous woman 
 than the senate and people of Rome. 
 
 III. Therefore, I will do now before you what I have just 
 done in the senate. I call you to witness, I give notice. I pre- 
 dict beforehand, that Marcus Antonius will do nothing what- 
 ever of those things which the embassadors arc commissioned 
 to command him to do ; but that he wi'l lay waste thi> lands 
 
THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. 395 
 
 and besiege Mutina, and enlist soldiers, wherever he can. For 
 he is a man who has at all times despised the judgment and 
 authority of the senate, and your inclinations and power. "Will 
 he do what it has been just now decreed that he shall do, — - 
 lead his army back across the Rubicon, which is the frontier 
 of Gaul, and yet at the same time not come nearer Koine than 
 two hundred miles I Will he obey this notice? will he al- 
 low himself to be confined by the river Rubicon, and by the 
 limit of two hundred miles'? Antonius is not that sort of 
 man. For if he had been, he would never have allowed mat- 
 ters to come to such a pass, as for the senate to give him no- 
 tice, as it did to Hannibal at the beginning; of the Punic war 
 not to attack Saguntum. But what ignominy it is to be 
 called away from Mutina, and at the same time to be for- 
 bidden to approach the city as if he were some fatal confla- 
 gration ! what an opinion is this for the senate to have of a 
 man ! What 1 As to the commission which is given to the 
 embassadors to visit Decimus Brutus and his soldiers, and to 
 inform them that their excellent zeal in behalf of, and ser- 
 vices done to the republic, are acceptable to the senate and 
 people of Rome, and that that conduct shall tend to their 
 great glory and to their great honor ; do you think that An- 
 tonius will permit the embassadors to enter Mutina? and to 
 depart from thence in safety ? He never will allow it, believe 
 me. I know the violence of the man, I know his impudence, 
 I know his audacity. 
 
 Nor, indeed, ought we to think of him as of a human being, 
 but as of a most ill-omened beast. And as this is the case, 
 the decree which the senate has passed is not wholly improp- 
 er. The embassy has some severity in it ; I only wish it had 
 no delay. For as in the conduct of almost every affair slow- 
 ness and procrastination are hateful, so above all things does 
 this war require promptness of action. We must assist I)eci- 
 mus Brutus ; we must collect all our forces from all quarters ; 
 we can not lose a single hour in effecting; the deliverance of 
 such a citizen without wickedness. Was it not in his power, 
 if he had considered Antonius a consul, and Gaul the province 
 of Antonius, to have given over the legions and the province 
 to Antonius? and to return home himself? and to celebrate 
 a triumph? and to be the first man in this body to deliver his 
 opinion, until he -entered on his magistracy? What was the 
 difficulty of doing that? But as he remembered that he wa* 
 
°\ 
 
 390 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Brutus, and that he was born for your freedom, not for his 
 own tranquillity, what else did he do but — as I may almost 
 say — put his own body in the way to prevent Antonius from 
 entering Gaul ? Ought we then to send embassadors to this 
 man, or legions? However, we will say nothing of what is 
 past. Let the embassadors hasten, as I see that they are about 
 to do. Do you prepare your robes of war. For it lias been 
 decreed, that, if he does not obey the authority of the senate, 
 we are aU to betake ourselves to our military dress. And we 
 shall have to do so. He will never obey. And we shall la- 
 ment that we have lost so many days, when we might have 
 been doing something. 
 
 IV. I have no fear, O Romans, that when Antonius hears 
 that I have asserted, both in the senate and in the assembly 
 of the people, that he never will submit himself to the power 
 of the senate, he will, for the sake of disproving my words, 
 and making me to appear to have had no foresight, alter his 
 behavior and obey the senate. He will never do so. He 
 will not grudge me this part of my reputation ; he will prefer 
 letting me be thought wise by you to being thought modest 
 himself. Need I say more ? Even if he were willing to do 
 so himself, do you think that his brother Lucius would per- 
 mit him % It has been reported that lately at_Tibur, when 
 Marcus Antonius appeared to him to be wavering, lie, i^ueius, 
 threatened his brother with death. And do we suppose that 
 the orders of the senate, and the words of the embassadors, 
 will be listened to by this Asiatic gladiator? It will be im- 
 possible for him to be separated from a brother, especially from 
 one of so much authority. For he is another Africanus among 
 them. He is considered of more influence than Lucius Tre- 
 bellius, of more than Titus Plancus * * * a noble young man. 
 As for Plancus, who, having been condemned by the unan- 
 imous vote of every one, amid the overpowering applause of 
 you yourselves, somehow or other got mixed up in this crowd, 
 and returned with a countenance so sorrowful, that he appear* 
 ed to have been dragged back rather than to have returned, he 
 despises him to such degree, as if lie were interdicted from 
 fire and water. At times he says that that man who set the 
 senate-house on fire has no right to a place in the senate-house. 
 For at this moment he is exceedingly in love with Trcbellius. 
 He hated him some time ago, when he. was opposing an abo- 
 lition of debts ; but now he delights in him, ever since hi- has 
 
THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. 397 
 
 seen that Trebcllius himself can not continue in safety with- 
 out an abolition of debts. For I think that you have heard, 
 O Romans, what indeed you may possibly have seen, that the 
 sureties and creditors of Lucius Trebcllius meet every day. 
 Oh confidence ! for I imagine that Trebellius has taken this 
 surname; what can be greater confidence than defrauding 
 one's creditors? than flying from one's house 1 ? than, because 
 of one's debts, being forced to go to war? What has become 
 of the applauses which lie received on the occasion of Cesar's 
 triumph, and often at the games? Where is the aedileship 
 that was conferred on him by the zealous efforts of all good 
 men? who is there who does not now think that he acted 
 
 virtuously by accident? 
 
 * J * * * * * * 
 
 V. However, I return to your love and especial delight, Lu- 
 cius Antonius, who has admitted you all to swear allegiance 
 to him. Do you deny it ? is there any one of you who does 
 not belong to a tribe? Certainly not. But thirty-five tribes 
 have adopted him for their patron. Do you again cry out 
 against my statement? Look at that gilt statue of him on 
 the left: what is the inscription upon it? "The thirty-five 
 tribes to their patron." Is then Lucius Antonius the patron 
 of the Roman people ? Plague take him ! For I fully assent 
 to your outcry. I won't speak of this bandit whom no one 
 would choose to have for a client ; but was there ever a man 
 possessed of such influence, or illustrious for mighty deeds, as 
 to dare to call himself the patron of the whole Roman people, 
 the conqueror and master of all nations ? We see in the fo- 
 rum a statue of Lucius Antonius ; just as we see one of Quin- 
 tus Tremulus, who conquered the Hernici, before the temple 
 of Castor. Oh the incredible impudence of the man 1 Has 
 he assumed all this credit to himself, because as a mirmillo at 
 Mylasa he slew the Thracian, his friend ? How should we be 
 able to endure him, if he had fought in this forum before the 
 eyes of you all? But, however, this is but one statue. He 
 has another erected by the Roman knights who received horses 
 from the state j 1 and they too inscribe on that, " To their pa- 
 
 1 After the year b.c. 403, there were two classes of Roman knights ; 
 one of which received a horse from the state, and were included in the 
 eighteen centuries of service ; the other class, first mentioned by Livy 
 (v 7) in the account of the siege of Veii, served with their own horses, 
 and instead of having a horee found them, received a certain pay (three 
 
398 CICERO'S ©RATIONS. 
 
 tron." Who was ever before adopted by that order as its pa- 
 tron? If it ever adopted any one as such, it ought to have 
 adopted me. What censor was ever so honored? what im- 
 perator? "But he distributed land among them." Shame 
 on their sordid natures for accepting it ! shame on his dishon- 
 esty for giving it ! 
 
 Moreover, the military tribunes who were in the army- of 
 Caesar have erected him a statue. * * * What order is that ? 
 There have been plenty of tribunes in our numerous legions in 
 so many years. Among them he has distributed the lands of 
 Semurium. The Campus Martius was all that was left, if he 
 had not first fled with his brother. But this allotment of lands 
 was put an end to a little while ago, O Romans, by the dec- 
 laration of his opinion by Lucius Caesar, a most illustrious 
 man and a most admirable senator. For we all agreed with 
 him and annulled the acts of the septeisiTirs. So all the kind, 
 ness of Nucula 1 goes for nothing ; and the patron Antonius is 
 at a discount. For those who had taken possession will de- 
 part with more equanimity. They had not been at any ex- 
 pense ; they had not yet furnished or stocked their domains, 
 partly because they did not feel sure of their title, and partly 
 because they had no money. 
 
 But as for that splendid statue, concerning which, if the 
 times were better, I could not speak without laughing, "To 
 Lucius Antonius, patron of the middle of Janus." 2 Is it so? 
 Is the middle of Janus a client of Lucius Antonius 1 ? Who 
 ever was found in that Janus who would have lent Lucius 
 Antonius a thousand sesterces? 
 
 VI. However, we have been spending too much time in 
 trifles. Let us return to our subject and to the war. Al- 
 
 tirnes that of the infantry), and were not included in the eighteen cen- 
 turies of service. The original knights, to distinguish them from these 
 latter, are often called equitcs cquo publico, sometimes also jiexumines or 
 trossuli. Vide Smith, Diet. Ant. p. 394-396, v. Equites. 
 
 1 He had been one of the septemvirs appointed to preside over the dis- 
 tribution of the lands. 
 
 3 Janus was the name of a street near the temple of Janus, especially 
 frequented by bankers and usurers. It was divided into summits, meatus, 
 and imus. Horace says : 
 
 Haec Janus summus ab imo 
 Etlocet * * * 
 Postquam omnis res mea Janum 
 Ad medium fracta est. 
 
THE SIXTH PHILIPPIC. 399 
 
 though it was not wholly foreign to the subject for some char- 
 acters to be thoroughly appreciated by yOu, in order that you 
 might in silence think over who they were against whom you 
 were to wage war. 
 
 But I exhort you, O Romans, though perhaps other meas . * l 
 ures might have been wiser, still now to wait with calmness 
 for the return of the embassadors. Promptness of action has 
 been taken from our side ; but still some good has accrued to 
 it. For when the embassadors have reported what -they cer- 
 tainly will report, that Antonius will not submit to you nor 
 to the senate, who then will be so worthless a citizen as to 
 think him deserving of being accounted a citizen 1 ? For at 
 present there are men, few indeed, but still more than there 
 ought to be, or than the republic deserves that there should 
 be,"who speak in this way, — " Shall Ave not even wait for the 
 return of the embassadors'?" Certainly the republic itself 
 will force them to abandon that expression and that pretense 
 of clemency. On which account, to confess the truth to you, 
 
 Romans, I have less striven to-day, and labored all the less 
 to-day, to induce the senate to agree with me in decreeing the 
 existence of a seditious war, and ordering the apparel of war 
 to be assumed. I preferred having my sentiments applauded 
 by every one in twenty days' time, to having it blamed to-day 
 by a few. Wherefore, O Romans, wait now for the return of 
 the embassadors, and devour your annoyance for a few days. 
 And when they do return, if they bring back peace, believe 7 7 
 me that 1 have been desirous that they should ; if they bring 
 back war, then allow me the praise of foresight. Ought I not 
 to be provident for the welfare of my fellow-citizens ? Ought 
 
 1 not day and night to think of your freedom and of the safety 
 of the republic 1 For what do I not owe to you, O Romans, 
 since you have preferred for all the honors of the state a man 
 who is his own father to the most nobly born men in the re- 
 public ? Am I ungrateful ? Who is less so 1 I, who, after 
 I had obtained those honors, have constantly labored in the 
 forum with the same exertions as I used while striving for 
 them. Am I inexperienced in state affairs'? Who has had 
 more practice than I, who have now for twenty years been 
 waging war against impious citizens ! 
 
 VII. Wherefore, O Romans, with all the prudence of which 
 I am master, and with almost more exertion than I am ca- 
 pable of, will I put forth my vigilance and watchfulness in 
 
400 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 your behalf. In truth, what citizen is there, especially in 
 this rank in which you have placed me, so forgetful of your 
 kindness, so unmindful of his country, so hostile to his own 
 dignity, as not to be roused and stimulated by your wonderful 
 unanimity ! I, as consul, have held many assemblies of the 
 people ; I have been present at many others ; I have never 
 once seen one so numerous as this one of yours now is. You 
 have all one feeling, you have all one desire, that of averting 
 the attempts of Marcus Antonius from the republic, of extin- 
 guishing his phrensy and crushing his audacity. All orders 
 have the same wish. The municipal towns, the colonies, and 
 all Italy are laboring for the same end. Therefore you have 
 made the senate, which was already pretty firm of its own 
 accord, firmer still by your authority. The time has come, 
 O Romans, later altogether than for the honor of the Roman 
 people it should have been, but still so that the things are 
 now so ripe that they do not admit of a moment's delay. 
 There has been a sort of fatality, if I may say so, which we 
 have borne as it was necessary to bear it. But hereafter if 
 any disaster happens to us it will be of our own seeking. It 
 is impossible for the Roman people to be slaves ; that people 
 whom the immortal gods have ordained should rule over all 
 nations. Matters are now come to a crisis. We are fighting 
 for our freedom. Either you must conquer, O Romans, 
 which indeed you will do if you continue to act with such 
 piety and such unanimity, or you must do any thing rather 
 than become slaves. Other nations can endure slavery. Lib- 
 erty is the inalienable possession of the Roman people 
 
THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 401 
 
 THE SEVENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MAP 
 
 CUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 After the senate had decided on sending them, the embassadors immedi- 
 ately set out, though Servius Sulpicius was in a very bad state of 
 health. In the mean time the partisans of Antonius in the city, with 
 Calenus at their head, were endeavoring to gain over the rest of the 
 citizens, by representing him as eager for an accommodation ; and they 
 kept up a correspondence with him, and published such of his letters 
 as they thought favorable for their views. Matters being in this state, 
 Cicero, at an ordinary meeting of the senate, made the following speech 
 to counteract the machinations of this party, and to warn the citizens 
 generally of the danger of being deluded by them. 
 
 I. We are consulted to-day about matters of small import- 
 ance, but still perhaps necessary, O conscript fathers. The 
 consul submits a motion to us about the Appian road, and 
 about the coinage ; the tribune of the people one about the 
 Luperci. And although it seems easy to settle such matters 
 as those, still my mind can not fix itself on such subjects, 
 beino- anxious about more important matters. For our af- 
 fairs, O conscript fathers, are come to a crisis, and are in a 
 state of almost extreme danger. It is not without reason 
 that I have always feared, and never approved of that send- 
 ing of embassadors. And what their return is to bring us I 
 know not; but who is there who does not see with how 
 much languor the expectation of it infects our minds? For 
 those men put no restraint on themselves who grieve that 
 the senate has revived so as to entertain hopes of its former 
 authority, and that the Roman people is united to this our 
 order; that all Italy is animated by one common feeling; 
 that armies are prepared, and generals ready for the armies ; 
 even already they are inventing replies for Antonius, and 
 defending them. Some pretend that his demand is that all 
 the armies be disbanded. I suppose then we sent embas- 
 sadors to him, not that he should submit and obey this our 
 body, but that he should offer us conditions, impose laws 
 upon us, order us to open Italy to foreign nations; espe- 
 
402 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 cially while we were to leave him in safety from whom there 
 is more danger to be feared than from any nation whatever. 
 Others say that he is willing to give up the nearer Gaul to 
 us, and that he will be satisfied with the farther Gaul. Very 
 kind of him ! in order that from thence he may endeavor 
 to bring not merely legions, but even nations against this 
 city. Others say that he makes no demands now but such 
 as are quite moderate. Macedonia he calls absolutely I is 
 own, since it was from thence that his brother Caius was n - 
 called. But what province is there in which that fire-brand 
 may not kindle a conflagration ? Therefore those same men, 
 like provident citizens and diligent senators, say that I have 
 sounded the charge, and they undertake the advocacy of 
 peace. Is not this the way in which they argue? "Anto- 
 nius ought not to have been irritated ; he is a reckless and a 
 bold man ; there are many bad men besides him." (No 
 doubt, and they may begin and count themselves first.) And 
 they warn us to be on our guard against them. Which 
 conduct then is it which shows the more prudent caution ; 
 chastising wicked citizens when one is able to do so, or fear- 
 ing them? 
 
 II. And these men speak in this way, who on account of 
 their trifling disposition used to be considered friends of the 
 people. From which it may be understood that they in 
 their hearts have at all times been disinclined to a good con- 
 stitution of the state, and they were not friends of the people 
 from inclination. For how comes it to pass that those men 
 who were anxious to gratify the people in evil things, now, 
 on an occasion which above all others concerns the people's 
 interests, because the same thing would be also salutary for 
 the republic, now prefer being wicked to being friends of the 
 people ? This noble cause of which I am the advocate has 
 made me popular, a man who (as you know) have always 
 opposed the rashness of the people. And those men are 
 called, or rather they call themselves, consulars ; though no 
 man is worthy of that name except those who can support 
 so high an honor. Will you favor an enemy ! Will you 
 }let him send you letters about his hopes of success ? Will 
 you be glad to produce them? to read them? Will you 
 even give them to wicked citizens to take copies ot "1 Will 
 you thus raise their courage? Will you thus dam]) the hopes 
 and valor of the good? And then will you think yourself 
 
THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 403 
 
 a consular, or a senator, or even a citizen ? Caius Pansa, 
 a most fearless and virtuous consul, will take what I say in 
 good part. For I will speak with a disposition most friend- 
 ly to him ; but I should not consider him himself a consul, 
 though a man with whom I am most intimate, unless he Mas 
 such a consul as to devote all his vigilance, and cares, and 
 thoughts to the safety of the republic. 
 
 Although long acquaintance, and habit, and a fellowship 
 and resemblance in the most honorable pursuits, has bound 
 us together from his first entrance into life ; and his incredi- 
 ble diligence, proved at the time of the most formidable dan- 
 gers of the civil war, showed that he was a favorer not only 
 of my safety, but also of my dignity ; still, as I said before, if 
 he were not such a consul as I have described, I should ven- 
 ture to deny that he was a consul at all. But now I call him 
 not only a consul, but the most excellent and virtuous consul 
 within my recollection ; not but that there have been others 
 of equal virtue and equal inclination, but still they have not 
 had an equal opportunity of displaying that virtue and incli- 
 nation. But the opportunity of a time of most formidable 
 change has been afforded to his magnanimity, and dignity, and 
 wisdom. And that is the time when the consulship is dis- 
 played to the greatest advantage, when it governs the repub- 
 lic during a time which, if not desirable, is at all events crit- 
 ical and momentous. And a more critical time than the pres- 
 ent, O conscript fathers, never was. 
 
 III. Therefore I, who have been at all times an adviser of 
 peace, and who, though all good men always considered peace, 
 and especially internal peace, desirable, have desired it more 
 than all of them ; — for the whole of the career of my industry 
 has been passed in the forum and in the senate-house, and in 
 warding off dangers from my friends ; it is by this course that 
 I have arrived at the highest honors, at moderate wealth, and 
 at any dignity which we may be thought to have : I therefore, 
 a nursling of peace, as I may call myself, I who, whatever I 
 am (for I arrogate nothing to myself), should undoubtedly not 
 have been such without internal peace : I am speaking in peril : 
 I shudder to think how you will receive it, O conscript fathers; 
 but still, out of regard for my unceasing desire to support and 
 increase your dignity, I beg and entreat you, O conscript fa- 
 thers, although it may be a bitter thing to hear, or an incred- 
 ible thing that it should be said by Marcus Cicero, still to re- 
 
404 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ceive at first, without offense, what I am going to say, and not 
 to reject it before I have fully explained what it is ; — I, who, 
 I will say so over and over again, have always been a pane- 
 gyrist, have always been an adviser of peace, do not wish to 
 have peace with Marcus Antonius. I approach the rest of 
 my speech with great hope, O conscript fathers, since I have 
 now passed by that perilous point amid your silence. 
 
 Why then do I not wish for peace? Because it would be 
 shameful ; because it would be dangerous ; because it can not 
 possibly be real. And while I explain these three points to 
 you, I beg of you, O conscript fathers, to listen to my words 
 with the same kindness which you usually show to me. 
 
 What is more shameful than inconsistency, fickleness, and 
 levity, both to individuals, and also to the entire senate? 
 Moreover, what can be more inconsistent than on a sudden to 
 be willing to be united in peace with a man whom you have 
 lately adjudged to be an enemy, not by words, but by actions 
 and by many formal decrees ? Unless, indeed, when you were 
 decreeing honors to Caius Caesar, well deserved indeed by and 
 fairly due to him, but still unprecedented and never to be for- 
 gotten, for one single reason, — because he had levied an army 
 against Marcus Antonius, — you were not judging Marcus An- 
 tonius to be an enemy; and unless Antonius was not pro- 
 nounced an enemy by you, when the veteran soldiers were 
 praised by your authority, for having followed Caesar ; and 
 unless you did not declare Antonius an enemy when you prom- 
 ised exemptions and money and lands to those brave legions, 
 because they had deserted him who was consul while he was 
 an enemy. 
 
 IV. What? when you distinguished with the highest praises 
 Brutus, a man born under some omen, as it were, of his race 
 and name, for the deliverance of the republic, and his army 
 which was waging war against Antonius on behalf of the lib- 
 erty of the Roman people, and the most loyal and admirable 
 province of Gaul, did you not then pronounce Antonius an 
 enemy? What? when you decreed that the consuls, one or 
 both of them, should go to the war, what war was there if 
 Antonius was not an enemy"? Why then was it that most 
 gallant man, my own colleague and intimate friend, Aulus 
 Hirtius the consul, has set out? And in what delicate health 
 he is ; how wasted away ! But the weak state of his body 
 could not repress the vigor of his mind. He thought it fair, 
 
THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 405 
 
 I suppose, to expose to danger in defense of the Roman peo- 
 ple that life which had been preserved to him by their prayers. 
 What ! when you ordered levies of troops to be made through- 
 out all Italy, when you suspended all exemptions from service, 
 was he not by those steps declared to be an enemy'? You see 
 manufactories of arms in the city ; soldiers, sword in hand, 
 are following the consul ; they are in appearance a guard to 
 the consul, but in fact and reality to us ; all men are giving 
 in their names, not only without any shirking, but with the 
 greatest eagerness ; they are acting in obedience to your au- 
 thority. Has not Antonius been declared an enemy by such 
 acts ? 
 
 " Oh, but we have sent embassadors to him." Alas, wretch- 
 ed that I am ! why am I compelled to find fault with the sen- 
 ate whom I have always praised f Why 1 Do you think, 
 O conscript fathers, that you have induced the Roman people 
 to approve of the sending embassadors ? Do you not perceive, 
 do you not hear, that the adoption of my opinion is demanded 
 by them 1 that opinion which you, in a full house, agreed to 
 the day before, though the day after you allowed yourselves 
 to be brought down to a groundless hope of peace. Moreover, 
 how shameful it is for the legions to send out embassadors to 
 the senate, and the senate to Antonius ! Although that is 
 not an embassy ; it is a denunciation that destruction is pre- 
 pared for him if he do not submit to this order. AVhat is the 
 difference ? At all events, men's opinions are unfavorable to 
 the measure ; for all men see that embassadors have been sent, 
 but it is not all who are acquainted with the terms of your 
 decree. 
 
 V. You must, therefore, preserve your consistency, your 
 wisdom, your firmness, your perseverance. You must go 
 back to the old-fashioned severity, if at least the authority of 
 the senate is anxious to establish its credit, its honor, its re- 
 nown, and its dignity, things which this order has been too 
 long deprived of. But there was some time ago some excuse 
 for it, as being oppressed ; a miserable excuse indeed, but still 
 a fair one ; now there is none. We appeared to have been 
 delivered from kingly tyranny ; and afterward we were op- 
 pressed much more severely by domestic enemies. We did in- 
 deed turn their arms aside ; we must now wrest them from 
 their hands. And if we can not do so (I will say what it 
 becomes one who is both a senator and a Roman to say), let 
 
40C CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 us die. For how just will be the shame, how great will be 
 the disgrace, how great the infamy to the republic, if Marcus 
 Antonius can deliver his opinion in this assembly from the 
 consular bench. For, to say nothing of the countless acts of 
 wickedness committed by him while consul in the city, during 
 which time he has squandered a vast amount of public money, 
 restored exiles without any law, sold our revenues to all sorts 
 of people, removed provinces from the empire of the Roman 
 people, given men kingdoms for bribes, imposed laws on the 
 city by violence, besieged the senate, and, at other times, ex- 
 cluded it from the senate-house by force of arms ; — to say no- 
 thing, I say, of all this, do you not consider this, that he who 
 has attacked Mutina, a most powerful colony of the Roman 
 people — who has besieged a general of the Roman people, 
 who is consul elect — who has laid waste the lands, — do you 
 not consider, I say, how shameful and iniquitous a thing it 
 would be for that man to be received into this order, by which 
 he has been so repeatedly pronounced an enemy for these very 
 reasons ? 
 
 I have said enough of the shamefulness of such a proceed- 
 ing ; I will now speak next, as I proposed, of the danger of 
 it ; which, although it is not so important to avoid as shame, 
 still offends the minds of the greater part of mankind even more. 
 
 VI. Will it then be possible for you to rely on the certainty 
 of any peace, when you see Antonius, or rather the Antonii, 
 in the city? Unless, indeed, you despise Lucius: I do not 
 despise even Caius. But, as I think, Lucius will be the domi- 
 nant spirit, — for he is the patron of the iive-and-thirty tribes, 
 whose votes he took away by his law, by which he divided the 
 magistracies in conjunction with Caius Caesar* He is the 
 patron of the centuries of the Roman knights, which also he 
 thought fit to deprive of the suffrages : he is the patron of the 
 men who have been military tribunes ; he is the patron of the 
 middle of Janus. O ye gods ! who will be able to support 
 this man's power 1 ? especially when he has brought all his de- 
 pendents into the lands. Who ever was the patron of all the 
 tribes? and of the Roman knights? and of the military trib. 
 unes? Do you think that the power of even the Gracchi was 
 greater than that of this gladiator will be? whom I have 
 called gladiator, not in the sense in which sometimes Marcus 
 Antonius too is called gladiator, but as nun call him who are 
 speaking plain Latin. He has fought in Asia as a mirmillo. 
 
THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 407 
 
 After having equipped his own companion and intimate friend 
 in the armor of a Thracian, he slew the miserable man as he 
 was dying; but he himself received a palpable wound, as the 
 scar proves. 
 
 What will the man who murdered his friend in this way, 1 V^ 
 when he has an opportunity, do to an enemy 1 and if he did 
 such a thing as this for the fun of the thing, what do you 
 think he will do when tempted by the hope of plunder? 
 Will he not again meet wicked men in the decuries? will he 
 not again tamper with those men who have received lands? 
 will he not again seek those who have been banished? will 
 he not, in short, be Marcus Antonius ; to whom, on the occa- 
 sion of every commotion, there will be a rush of all profligate 
 citizens? Even if there be no one else except those who are 
 with him now, and these who in this body now openly speak 
 in his favor, will they be too small in number? especially 
 when all the protection which we might have had from good 
 men is lost, and when those men are prepared to obey his 
 nod ? But I am afraid, if at this time we fail to adopt wise 
 counsels, that that party will in a short time appear too nu- 
 merous for us. Nor have I any dislike to peace ; only I do 
 dread war disguised under the name of peace. Wherefore, if 
 we wish to enjoy peace we must first wage war. If we shrink 
 from war, peace we shall never have. 
 
 VII. But it becomes your prudence, O conscript fathers, 
 to provide as far forward as possible for posterity. That is 
 the object for which we were placed in this garrison, and a$ 
 it were on this watch-tower ; that by our vigilance and fore-, 
 sight we might keep the Eoman people free from fear. It 
 would be a shameful thing, especially in so clear a case aa 
 this, for it to be notorious that wisdom was wanting to the 
 chief council of the whole world. We have such consuls, 
 there is such eagerness on the part of the Roman people, w<# 
 have such an unanimous feeling of all Italy in our favor, such 
 generals, and such armies, that the republic can not possibly 
 suffer any disaster without the senate being in fault. I, foi 
 my part, will not be wanting. I will warn you, I will fore- 
 warn you, I will give you notice, I will call gods and men to 
 witness what I do really believe. Nor will I display my good 
 faith alone, which perhaps may seem to be enough, but which 
 in a chief citizen is not enough : I will exert all my care, and 
 prudence, and vigilance. 
 
408 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 I have spoken about the danger. I will now proceed to 
 prove to you that it is not possible for peace to be firmly ce- 
 mented ; for of the propositions which I promised to establish 
 this is the last. 
 
 VIII. What peace can there be between Marcus Antonius 
 and (in the first place) the senate? with what face will he be 
 able to look upon you, and with what eyes will you, in turn, 
 look upon him? Which of you does not hate him? which of 
 you does not he hate? Come, are you the only people who 
 hate him, and whom he hates ? What ? what do you think 
 of those men who are besieging Mutina, who are levying troops 
 in Gaul, who are threatening your fortunes? will they ever 
 be friends to you, or you to them ? Will he embrace the 
 Roman knights? For, suppose their inclinations respecting, 
 and their opinions of Antonius were very much concealed, 
 when they stood in crowds on the steps of the temple of Con- 
 cord, when they stimulated you to endeavor to recover your 
 liberty, when they demanded arms, the robe of war, and war, 
 and who, with the Roman people, invited me to meet in the 
 assembly of the people, will these men ever become friends to 
 Antonius? will Antonius ever maintain peace with them? 
 For why should I speak of the whole Roman people? which, 
 in a full and crowded forum, twice, with one heart and one 
 voice, summoned me into the assembly, and plainly showed 
 their excessive eagerness for the recovery of their liberty. So, 
 desirable as it was before to have the Roman people for our 
 comrade, we now have it for our leader. 
 
 What hope then is there that there ever can be peace be- 
 tween the Roman people and the men who are besieging Mu- 
 tina and attacking a general and army of the Roman people ! 
 Will there be peace with the municipal towns, whose great 
 zeal is shown by the decrees which they pass, by the soldiers 
 whom they furnish, by the sums which they promise, so that 
 in each town there is such a spirit as leaves no one room to 
 wish for a senate of the Roman people ? The men of Firmi- 
 um deserve to be praised by a resolution of our order, who 
 set the first example of promising money ; we ought to return 
 a complimentary answer to the Marrucini, who have passed a 
 vote that all who evade military service are to be branded 
 with infamy. These measures are adopted all over Italy. 
 There is great peace between Antonius and these men, and 
 between thmi and him ! What greater discord can there 
 
THE SEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 400 
 
 possibly be ? And in discord civil peace can not by any pos- 
 sibility exist. To say nothing of the mob, look at Luciu§ 
 Nasidius, a Roman knight, a man of the very highest accom- 
 plishments and honor, a citizen always eminent, whose watch- 
 fulness and exertions for the protection of my life I felt in my 
 consulship ; who not only exhorted his neighbors to become 
 soldiers, but also assisted them from his own resources ; will 
 it be possible ever to reconcile Antonius to such a man as 
 this, a man whom we ought to praise by a formal resolution 
 of the senate? "What? will it be possible to reconcile him to 
 Caius Caesar, who prevented him from entering the city, or 
 to Decimus Brutus, who has refused him entrance into Gaul? 
 Moreover, will he reconcile himself to, or look mercifully on 
 the provice of Gaul, by which he has been excluded and re- 
 jected? You will see every thing, O conscript fathers, if you 
 do not take care, full of hatred and full of discord, from which 
 civil wars arise. Do not then desire that which is impossi- 
 ble ; and beware, I entreat you by the immortal gods, O con- 
 script fathers, that out of hope of present peace you do not 
 lose perpetual peace. 
 
 "What now is the object of this oration ? For we do not 
 yet know what the embassadors have done. But still we 
 ought to be awake, erect, prepared, armed in our minds, so 
 as not to be deceived by any civil or supplicatory language, 
 or by any pretense of justice. He must have complied with 
 all the prohibitions and all the commands which we have 
 sent him, before he can demand any thing. He must have 
 desisted from attacking Brutus and his army, and from plun- 
 dering the cities and lands of the province of Gaul ; he must 
 have permitted the embassadors to go to Brutus, and led his 
 army back on this side of the Rubicon, and yet not come 
 within two hundred miles of this city. He must have sub- 
 mitted himself to the power of the senate and of the Roman 
 people. If he does this, then we shall have an opportunity of 
 deliberating without any decision being forced upon us either 
 way. If he does not obey the senate, then it will not be the 
 senate that declares war against him, but he who will have 
 declared it against the senate. 
 
 But I warn you, O conscript fathers, the liberty of the 
 Roman people, which is intrusted to you, is at stake. The 
 life and fortune of every virtuous man is at stake, against 
 which Antonius has long been directing his insatiable covet- 
 
 S 
 
410 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 ousness, united to his savage cruelty. Your authority is at 
 stake, which you will wholly lose if you do not maintain it 
 now. Beware how you let that foul and deadly beast escape 
 now that you have got him confined and chained. You too, 
 Pansa, I warn (although you do not need counsel, for you 
 have plenty of wisdom yourself: but still, even the most skill- 
 ful pilots receive often warnings from the passengers in terri- 
 ble storms), not to allow this vast and noble preparation 
 which you have made to fall away to nothing. You have 
 such an opportunity as no one ever had. It is in your power 
 so to avail yourself of this wise firmness of the senate, of this 
 zeal of the equestrian order, of this ardor of the Roman peo- 
 ple, as to release the Roman people from fear and danger for- 
 ever. As to the matters to which your motion before the 
 senate refers, I agree with Publius Servilius. 
 
 THE EIGHTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MAR- 
 CUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC, 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 After the embassy to Antonius had left Rome, the consuls zealously ex- 
 erted themselves in preparing for war, in case he should reject the de- 
 mands of the embassadors. Hirtius, though in bad health, left Rome 
 first, at the head of an army containing, among others, the Martial and 
 the fourth legions ; intending to join Octavius, and hoping with his 
 assistance to prevent his gaining any advantage over Brutus till Pansa 
 could join them. And he gained some ad.'ar.iages over Antonius at 
 once. 
 
 About the beginning of February the two remaining embassadors (for 
 Servius Sulpicius had died just as they arrived at Antonius's camp) 
 returned, bringing word that Antonius would comply with none of the 
 commands of the senate, nor allow them to proceed to Decimus Brutus ; 
 and bringing also (contrarj' to their duty) demands from him, of which 
 the principal were, that his troops were to be rewarded, all the acts of 
 himself and Dolabella to be ratified, as also all that he had done respect- 
 ing Caesar's papers ; that no account was to be required of him of the 
 money in the temple of Ops ; and that he should have the farther Gaul 
 with an army of six legions. 
 
 Pansa summoned the senate to receive the report of the embassadors, 
 when Cicero made a severe speech, proposing very vigorous measures 
 against Antonius; which, however, Calenus and his party wee still 
 numerous enough to mitigate very greatly ;*' and even ranpa voted 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC. 411 
 
 against him and in favor of the milder measures ; though they could 
 not prevail against Cicero to have a second embassy sent to Antonius, 
 and though Cicero carried his point of ordering the citizens to assume 
 the sagupi, or robe of war, which he also (waving his privilege as a 
 man of consular rank) wore himself. The next day the senate met 
 again, to draw up in form the decrees on which they had resolved the 
 day before ; when Cicero addressed the following speech to them, ex- 
 postulating with them for their wavering the day before. 
 
 I. Matters were carried on yesterday, O Caius Pansa, in a 
 more irregular manner than the beginning of your consulship 
 required. You did not appear to me to make sufficient re- 
 sistance to those men, to whom you are not in the habit of 
 yielding. For while the virtue of the senate was such as it 
 usually is, and while all men saw that there was war in 
 reality, and some thought that the name ought to be kept 
 back ; on the division, your inclination inclined to lenity. 
 The course which we proposed therefore was defeated, at your 
 instigation, on account of the harshness of the word war. 
 That urged by Lucius Caesar, a most honorable man, pre- 
 vailed, which, taking away that one harsh expression, was 
 gentler in its language than in its real intention. Although 
 he, indeed, before he delivered his opinion at all, pleaded his 
 relationship to Antonius in excuse for it. He had done the 
 same in my consulship, in respect of his sister's husband, as 
 he did now in respect of his sister's son; so that he was moved 
 by the grief of his sister, and at the same time he wished to 
 provide for the safety of the republic. 
 
 And yet Caasar himself in some degree recommended you, 
 O conscript fathers, not to agree with him, when he said that 
 he should have expressed quite different sentiments, worthy 
 both of himself and of the republic, if he had not been ham- 
 pered by his relationship to Antonius. He, then, is his uncle ; 
 are you his uncles too, you who voted with him? 
 
 But on what did the dispute turn 1 Some men, in deliver- 
 ing their opinion, did not choose to insert the word " war." 
 They preferred calling it "tumult," being ignorant not only 
 of the state of affairs, but also of the meaning of words. For 
 there can be a "war" without a "tumult," but there can not 
 be a "tumult" without a "war." For what is a "tumult," 
 but such a violent disturbance that an unusual alarm is en- 
 gendered by it? from which indeed the name "tumult" 1 is 
 derived. Therefore, our ancestors spoke of the Italian " tu' 
 1 /. e. tumultus, as if it were timor multus. 
 
•112 CICERO'S ORATIOiNS. 
 
 mult," which was a domestic one ; of the Gallic " tumult," 
 which was on the frontier of Italy ; but they never spoke of 
 any other. And that a " tumult" is a more serious thing 
 than a " war" may be seen from this, that during a war ex- 
 empt ions from military service are valid ; but in a tumult 
 they are not. So that it is the fact, as I have said, that war 
 can exist without a tumult, but a tumult can not exist with- 
 out a war. In truth, as there is no medium between war 
 and peace, it is quite plain that a tumult, if it be not a sort of 
 war, must be a sort of peace ; and what more absurd can be 
 said or imagined? However, we have said too much about a 
 word, let us rather look to the facts, O conscript fathers, the 
 appreciation of which, I know, is at times injured by too much 
 attention being paid to words. 
 
 II. We are unwilling that this should appear to be a war. 
 What is the object, then, of our giving authority to the 
 municipal towns and colonies to exclude Antonius ? of our 
 authorizing soldiers to be enlisted without any force, without 
 the terror of any fine, of their own inclination and eagerness'? 
 of permitting them to promise money for the assistance of 
 the republic ? For if the name of war be taken away, the 
 zeal of the municipal towns will be taken away too. And 
 the unanimous feeling of the Eoman people which at present 
 pours itself into our cause, if we cool upon it, must inevita- 
 bly be damped. 
 
 But why need I say more? Decimus Brutus is attacked 
 Is not that war? Mutina is besieged. Is not even that war? 
 Gaul is laid waste. What peace can be more assured than 
 this? Who can think of calling that war? We have sent 
 forth a consul, a most gallant man, with an army, who. 
 though he was in a weak state from a long and serious ill- 
 ness, still thought he ought not to make any excuse when 
 he was summoned to the protection of the republic. Caius 
 Caisar, indeed, did not wait for our decrees ; especially as 
 that conduct of his was not unsuited to his age. tic under- 
 took war against Antonius of his own accord ; for there was 
 not yet time to pass a decree ; and he saw that, if he let slip 
 the opportunity of waging Avar, when the republic was crushed 
 it would be impossible to pass any decrees at all. They and 
 their arms, then, are now at peace. He is not an enemy 
 whose garrison Ilirtius has driven from Claterna ; he is not 
 an enemy who is in arms resisting a consul, and attacking a 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC. 413 
 
 consul elect ; and those are not the words of an enemy, nor 
 is that warlike language, which Pansa read just now out of 
 his colleague's letters : " I drove out the garrison." " I got 
 possession of Claterna." The cavalry were routed." " A bat- 
 tle was fought." "A good many men were slain." What 
 peace can be greater that this 1 Lcviejs of troops are ordered 
 throughout all Italy; all exemptions from service are sus- 
 pended ; the robe of war is to be assumed to-morrow ; the 
 consul has said that he shall come down to the senate-house 
 with an armed guard. 
 
 Is not this war? Ay, it is such a war as has never been. 
 For in all other wars, and most especially in civil wars, it was 
 a difference as to the political state of the republic which gave 
 rise to the contest. Sylla contended against Sulpicius about 
 the force of laws which Sylla said had been passed by violence. 
 Cinna warred against Octavius because of the votes of the new 
 citizens. Again, Sylla was at variance with Cinna and Ma- 
 rius, in order to prevent unworthy men from attaining power, 
 and to avenge the cruel death of most illustrious men. The 
 causes of all these wars arose from the zeal of different parties, 
 for what they considered the interest of the republic. Of the 
 last civil war I can not bear to speak : I do not understand 
 the cause of it : I detest the result. 
 
 III. This is the fifth civil war (and all of them have fallen 
 upon our times) : the first which has not only not brought dis- 
 sensions and discord among the citizens, but which has been 
 signalized by extraordinary unanimity and incredible concord. 
 All of them have the same wish, all defend the same objects, 
 all are inspired with the same sentiments. When I say all, I 
 except those whom no one thinks worthy of being citizens at 
 all. What, then, is the cause of war, and what is the object 
 aimed at? We are defending the temples of the immortal 
 gods, we are defending the walls of the city, we are defending 
 the homes and habitations of the Roman people, the house- 
 hold gods, the altars, the hearths and the sepulchres of our 
 forefathers; we are defending our laws, our courts of justice, 
 our freedom, our wives, our children, and our country. On 
 the other hand, Marcus Antonius labors and fights in order to 
 throw into confusion and overturn all these things ; and hopes 
 to have reason to think the plunder of the republic sufficient 
 cause for the war, while he squanders part of our fortunes ? and 
 distributes the rest among his parricidal followers. 
 
414 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 While, then, the motives for war are so different, a most 
 miserable circumstance is what that fellow promises to his 
 band of robbers. In the first place our houses ; for he de- 
 clares that he will divide the city among them; and after that 
 he will lead them out at whatever gate and settle them on 
 whatever lands they please. All the Caphons, 1 all the Saxas, 
 and the other plagues which attend Antonius, are marking out 
 for themselves in their own minds most beautiful houses, and 
 gardens, and villas, at Tusculum and Alba ; and those clown- 
 ish men — if indeed they are men, and not rather brute beasts 
 — are borne on in their empty hopes as far as the waters and 
 Puteoli. So Antonius has something to promise to his fol- 
 lowers. What can we do ? Have we any thing of the sort ? 
 May the gods grant us a better fate! for our express object is 
 to prevent any one at all from hereafter making similar prom- 
 ises. I say this against my will, still I must say it ; — the auc- 
 tion sanctioned by Caesar, O conscript fathers, gives many 
 wicked men both hope and audacity. For they saw some men 
 become suddenly rich from having been beggars. Therefore, 
 those men who are hanging over our property, and to whom 
 Antonius promises every thing, are always longing to see an 
 auction. "What can we do? What do we promise our sol- 
 diers? Things much better and more honorable. For prom- 
 ises to be earned by wicked actions are pernicious both to 
 those w r ho expect them, and to those who promise them. We 
 promise to our soldiers freedom, rights, laws, justice, the em- 
 pire of the world, dignity, peace, tranquillity. The promises 
 then of Antonius are bloody, polluted, wicked, odious to god- 
 and men, neither lasting nor salutary; ours, on the other hand, 
 are honorable, upright, glorious, full of happiness, and full of 
 piety. 
 
 IV. Hero also Quintus Fufius, a brave and energetic man, 
 and a friend of mine, reminds me of the advantages of peace. 
 As if, if it were necessary to praise peace, I could not do it 
 myself quite as well as he. For is it once only that I have 
 defended peace? Have I not at all times labored for tran- 
 quillity ? which is desirable for all good men, hut especially 
 for me. For what course could my industry pursue without 
 forensic causes, without laws, without courts of justice? and 
 these things can have no existence when civil peace is taken 
 away. But I want to know what you mean, O Calejjus ? Do 
 1 These were the names of officers devoted to Antonius 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC. 415 
 
 you call slavery peace? Our ancestors used to take up arms 
 not merely to secure their freedom, but also to acquire em- 
 pire ; you think that we ought to throw away our arms, in 
 order to become slaves. What juster cause is there for wag- 
 ing war than the wish to repel slavery? in which, even if 
 one's master be not tyrannical, yet it is a most miserable 
 thing that he should be able to be so if he chooses. In truth, 
 other causes are just, this is a necessary one. Unless, perhaps, 
 you think that this does not apply to you, because you expect 
 that you will be a partner in the dominion of Antonius. 
 And there you make a two-fold mistake : first of all, in pre- 
 ferring your own to the general interest ; and in the next place, 
 in thinking that there is any thing either stable or pleasant 
 in kingly_power. Even if it has before now been advanta- 
 geous to you, it will not always be so. Moreover, you used 
 to complain of that former master, who was a man ; what do 
 you think you will do when your master is a beast? And 
 you say that you are a man who have always been desirous 
 of peace, and have always wished for the preservation of all 
 the citizens. Very honest language ; that is, if you mean all 
 citizens who are virtuous, and useful, and serviceable to the 
 republic ; but if you wish those who are by nature citizens, 
 but by inclination enemies, to be saved, what difference is 
 there between you and them? Your father, indeed, with 
 whom I as a youth was acquainted, w r hen he was an old man, 
 ■ — a man of rigid virtue and wisdom, — used to give the great- 
 est praise of all citizens who had ever lived to Publius Nas- 
 ica, who slew Tiberius Gracchus. By his valor, and wis- 
 dom, and magnanimity he thought that the republic had been 
 saved. What am I to say ? Have we received any other doc- 
 trine from our fathers? Therefore, that citizen — if you had 
 lived in those times — would not have been approved of by 
 you, because he did not wish all the citizens to be safe. " Be- 
 cause Lucius Opimius the consul has made a speech con- 
 cerning the republic, the senators have thus decided on that 
 matter, that Opimius the consul shall defend the republic." 
 The senate adopted these measures in words, Opimius follow- 
 ed them up by his arms. Should you then, if you had lived 
 in those times, have thought him a hasty or a cruel citizen? 
 or should you have thought Quintus Metellus one, whose four 
 eons were all men of consular rank ? or Publius Lentulus the 
 chief of the senate, and many other admirable men, who, with 
 
416 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Lucius Opimius the consul, took arm«, and pursued Gracchus 
 to the Aventine f and in the battle which ensued, Lentulus re- 
 ceived a severe wound, Gracchus was slain, and so was Mar- 
 cus Fulvius, a man of consular rank, and his two youthful sons. 
 Those men, therefore, are to be blamed ; for they did not wish 
 all the citizens to be safe. 
 
 V. Let us come to instances nearer our own time. The 
 senate intrusted the defense of the republic to Caius Marius 
 and Lucius Valerius the consuls. Lucius Saturninus, a trib- 
 une of the people, and Caius Glaucia the praetor, were slain. 
 On that day, all the Scauri, and Metelli, and Claudii, and 
 Catuli, and Scaevolse, and Crassi took arms. Do you think 
 either those consuls or those other most illustrious men de- 
 serving of blame % I myself wished Catiline to perish. Did 
 you who wish every one to be safe, wish Catiline to be safe 1 
 There is this difference, O Calenus, between my opinion and 
 yours. I wish no citizen to commit such crimes as deserve 
 to be punished with death. You think that, even if he has 
 committed them, still he ought to be saved. If there is any 
 thing in our own body which is injurious to the rest of the 
 body, we allow that to be burned and cut out, in order that a 
 limb may be lost in preference to the whole body. And so 
 in the body of the republic, whatever is rotten must be cut 
 off in order that the whole may be saved. Harsh language! 
 This is much more harsh, "Let the worthless, and wicked, 
 and impious be saved ; let the innocent, the honorable, the 
 virtuous, the whole republic be destroyed." In the case of 
 one individual, O Quintus Fufius, I confess that you saw more 
 than I did. I thought Publius Clodius a mischievous, wick- 
 ed, lustful, impious, audacious, criminal citizen. You, on the 
 other hand, called him religious, temperate, innocent, modest ; 
 a citizen to be preserved and desired. In this one particular 
 I admit that you had great discernment, and that I made a 
 great mistake. For as for your saying that I am in the habit 
 of arguing against you with ill temper, that is not the case. I 
 confess that I argue with vehemence, but not with ill temper. 
 I am not in the habit of getting angry with my friends every 
 now and then, not even if they deserve it. Therefore, I can 
 differ from you without using any insulting language, though 
 not without feeling the greatest grief of mind. For is the dis- 
 sension between you and me a trifling one, or on a trifling 
 subject? Is it merely a case of my favoring this man, and 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC. 417 
 
 you that man ? Yes ; I indeed favor Decimus Brutus, you 
 favor Marcus Antonius ; I wish a colony of the Roman people 
 to be preserved, you are anxious that it should be stormed and 
 destroyed. 
 
 VI. Can you deny this, when you interpose every sort of 
 delay calculated to weaken Brutus, and to improve the posi- 
 tion of Antonius ! For how long will you keep on saying 
 that you are desirous of peace ! Matters are progressing rap- 
 idly ; the works have been carried on ; severe battles are tak- 
 ing place. We sent three chief men of the city to interpose. 
 Antonius has despised, rejected, and repudiated them. And 
 still you continue a persevering defender of Antonius. And 
 Calenus, indeed, in order that he may appear a more con- 
 scientious senator, says that he ought not to be a friend to 
 him ; since, though Antonius was under great obligations to 
 him, he still had acted against him. See how great is his af- 
 fection for his country. Though he is angry with the indi- 
 vidual, still he defends Antonius for the sake of his country. 
 
 When you are so bitter, O Quintus Fufius, against the peo- 
 ple of Marseilles, I can not listen to you with calmness. For 
 how Ions; are you jroinir to attack Marseilles ? Does not even 
 
 O */ C O 
 
 a triumph put an end to the war 1 ? in which was carried an 
 imajre of that citv, without whose assistance our forefathers 
 never triumphed over the Transalpine nations. Then, indeed, 
 did the Roman people groan. Although they had their own 
 private griefs because of their own affairs, still there was no 
 citizen who thought the miseries of this most loval city uncon- 
 nected with himself. Csesar himself, who had been the most 
 angry of all men with them, still, on account of the unusually 
 high character and loyalty of that city, was every day relax- 
 ing something of his displeasure. And is there no extent of 
 calamity by which so faithful a city can satiate you 1 ? Again, 
 perhaps, you will say that I am losing my temper. But I am 
 speaking without passion, as I always do, though not without 
 great indignation. I think that no man can be an enemy to 
 that city, who is a friend to this one. What your object is, 
 O Calenus, I can not imagine. Formerly we were unable to 
 deter you from devoting yourself to the gratification of the 
 people ; now we are unable to prevail on you to show any 
 regard for their interests. I have argued loner enough with 
 Fufius, saying every thing without hatred, but nothing with- 
 out indignation. But I suppose that a man who can bear tha 
 
 S2 
 
418 CICERO S ORATIONS. 
 
 jcomplaint of his son-in-law with indifference, will bear that of 
 his friend with great equanimity. 
 
 VII. I come now to the rest of the men of consular rank, 
 of whom there is no one (I say this on my own responsibili- 
 ty), who is not connected with me in some way or other by 
 kindnesses conferred or received ; some in a great, some in 
 a moderate degree, but every one to some extent or other. 
 What a disgraceful day was yesterday to us ! to us consulars, 
 I mean. Are we to send embassadors again % What % would 
 he make a truce % Before the very face and eyes of the em- 
 bassadors he battered Mutina with his engines. He displayed 
 his works and his defenses to the embassadors. The siege 
 was not allowed one moment's breathing-time, not even while 
 the embassadors should be present. Send embassadors to this 
 man ! What for ? in order to have great fears for their return % 
 In truth, though on the previous occasion I had voted against 
 the embassadors being decreed, still I consoled myself with 
 this reflection, that, when they had returned from Antonius 
 despised and rejected, and had reported to the senate, not mere- 
 ly that he had not withdrawn from Gaul, as we had voted that 
 he should, but that he had not even retired from before Muti- 
 na, and that they had not been allowed to proceed on to Deci- 
 mus Brutus, all men would be inflamed with hatred and stim- 
 ulated by indignation, so that we should reinforce Decimus 
 Brutus with arms, and horses, and men. But we have become 
 even more languid since we have become acquainted with, not 
 only the audacity and wickedness of Antonius, but also with 
 his insolence and pride. Would that Lucius Caesar were in 
 health ; that Servius Sulpicius were alive. This cause would 
 be pleaded much better by three men, than it is now by me 
 single-handed. What I am going to say I say with grief, 
 rather than by way of insult. We have been deserted — we 
 have, I say, been deserted, O conscript fathers, by our chiefs. 
 But, as I have often said before, all those who in a time of such 
 danger have proper and courageous sentiments shall be men 
 of consular rank. The embassadors ought to have brought 
 us back courage, they have brought us back fear. Not, in- 
 deed, that they have caused me any fear: let them have as 
 high an opinion as they please of the man to whom they 
 were sent; from whom they have even brought hack com- 
 mands to us. 
 
 VIII. O ye immortal gods! where are the habits and vir- 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC: 419 
 
 tues of our forefathers ? Caius Popillius, in the time of our 
 ancestors, when he had been sent as embassador to Antiochus 
 the kins;', and had given him notice, in the words of the senate, 
 to depart from Alexandria, which he was besieging, on the 
 king's seeking to delay giving his answer, drew a line round 
 him where he was standing with his rod, and stated that he 
 should report him to the senate if he did not answer him as 
 to what he intended to do before he moved oat of that line 
 which surrounded him. He did well. For he had brought 
 with him the countenance of the senate, and the authority of 
 the Roman people ; and if a man does not obey that, we are 
 not to receive commands from him in return, but he is to be 
 utterly rejected. Am I to receive commands from a man who 
 despises the commands of the senate? Or am I to think that 
 he has any thing in common with the senate, who besieges a 
 general of the Roman people in spite of the prohibition of the 
 senate? But what commands they are! With what arro- 
 gance, with what stupidity, with what insolence are they con- 
 ceived ! But what made him charge our embassadors with 
 them when he was sending Cotyla to us, the ornament and 
 bulwark of his friends, a man of sedilitian rank ? if, indeed, he 
 really was an redile at the time when the public slaves flogged 
 him with thongs at a banquet by command of Antonius. 
 
 But what modest commands they are! We must be iron- 
 hearted men, O conscript fathers, to deny any thing to this 
 man! "I give up both provinces," says he; "I disband my 
 army ; I am willing to become a private individual." For 
 these are his very words. He seems to be coming to him- 
 self. " I am willing to forget everv thing ; to be reconciled to 
 every body." But what does he add ? " If you give booty 
 and land to my six legions, to my cavalry, and to my praeto- 
 rian cohort." He even demands rewards for those men for 
 whom, if he were to demand pardon, he would be thought 
 the most impudent of men. He adds farther, " Those men 
 to whom the lands have been given which he himself and Dol- 
 abella distributed, are to retain them." This is the Campa- 
 nian and Leontine district, both which our ancestors consid- 
 ered a certain resource in times of scarcity. 
 
 IX. He is protecting the interests of his buffoons and game- 
 sters and pimps. He is protecting Capho's and Saxa's inter- 
 ests too, pugnacious and muscular centurions, whom he placed 
 among his troops of male and female buffoons. Besides all 
 
420 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this, he demands " that the decrees of himself and his colleague 
 concerning Caesar's writings and memoranda are to stand." 
 Why is he so anxious that every one should have what he has 
 bought, if he who sold it all has the price which he received 
 for it? "And that his accounts of the money in the temple 
 of Ops arc not to be meddled with." That is to say, that 
 those seven hundred millions of sesterces are not to be recov- 
 ered from him. " That the septemviri are to be exempt from 
 blame or from prosecution for what they have done." It was 
 Nucula, I imagine, who put him in mind of that ; he was 
 afraid, perhaps, of losing so many clients. He also wishes to 
 make stipulations in favor of " those men who are with him 
 who may have done any thing against the laws." He is here 
 taking care of Mustela and Tiro ; he is not anxious about 
 himself. For what has he done? has he ever touched the 
 public money, or murdered a man, or had armed men about 
 him? But what reason has he for taking so much trouble 
 about them? For he demands, "that his own judiciary law 
 be not abrogated." And if he obtains that, what is there that 
 he can fear ? can he be afraid that any one of his friends may 
 be convicted by Cydas, or Lysiades, or Curius? However, 
 he does not press us with many more demands. " I give up," 
 says he, "Gallia Togata; I demand Gallia Comata" 1 — he 
 evidently wishes to be quite at his ease — "with six legions, 
 and those made up to their full complement out of the army 
 of "Deciruus Brutus;" — not only out of the troops whom he 
 has enlisted himself; "and he is to keep possession of it as 
 long as Marcus Brutus and Caius Cassius, as consuls, or as 
 proconsuls, keep possession of their provinces." In the coini- 
 tia held by him, his brother Caius (for it is his year) has 
 already been repulsed. " And I myself," says he, " am to re- 
 tain possession of my province five years." But that is ex- 
 pressly forbidden by the law of Caesar, and you defend the acts 
 of Caesar. 
 
 X. "Were you, O Lucius Piso, and you, O Lucius Philippus, 
 you chiefs of the city, able, I will not say to endure in your 
 minds, but even to listen with your ears to these commands of 
 
 1 The province between the Alps and the Rubicon was called Gallia 
 Citcrior, or Cisalpina, from its situation ; al.^o Tagata, from the inhab- 
 itants wearing the Roman toga. The other was called Ulterior^ and by 
 Cicero often Ultima, or Transalpina ; and also Comata, from the fashion 
 of the inhabitants wearing long hair. 
 
THE EIGHTH PHILIPPIC. 421 
 
 his ? But, I suspect there was some alarm at work ; nor, while 
 in his power, could you feel as embassadors, or as men of con- 
 sular rank, nor could you maintain your own dignity, or that 
 of the republic. And nevertheless, somehow or other, owing 
 to some philosophy, I suppose, you did what I could not have 
 done, — you returned without any very angry feelings. Marcus 
 Antonius paid you no respect, though you were most illustri- 
 ous men, embassadors of the Eoman people. As for us, what 
 concessions did not we make to Cotvla the embassador of Mar- 
 cus Antonius ? though it was against the law for even the gates 
 of the city to be opened to him, yet even this temple was opem 
 ed to him. He was allowed to enter the senate ; here yester- 
 day he was taking down our opinions and every word we said 
 in his note-books ; and men who had been preferred to the 
 highest honors sold themselves to him in utter disregard of 
 their own dignity. 
 
 O ye immortal gods ! how great an enterprise is it to up- 
 hold the character of a leader in the republic ; for it requires 
 one to be influenced not merely by the thoughts but also by 
 the eyes of the citizens. To take to one's house the embassa- 
 dor of an enemy, to admit him to one's chamber, even to con- 
 fer apart with him, is the act of a man who thinks nothing 
 of his dignity, and too much of his danger. But what is 
 danger? For if one is engaged in a contest where every thing 
 is at stake, either liberty is assured to one if victorious, or 
 death if defeated ; the former of which alternatives is desir- 
 able, and the latter some time or other inevitable. But a base 
 flight from death is worse than, any imaginable death. For I 
 will never be induced to believe that there are men who envy 
 the consistency or diligence of others, and who are indignant 
 at the unceasing desire to assist the republic being approved 
 by the senate and people of Borne. That is what we were 
 all bound to do ; and that was not only in the time of our an- 
 cestors, but even lately, the highest praise of men of consular 
 rank, to be vigilant, to be anxious, to be always either think- 
 ing, or doing, or saying something to promote the interests of 
 the republic. 
 
 I, O conscript fathers, recollect that Quintus Scsevola the 
 aucur, in the Marsic war, when he was a man of extreme old 
 age, and quite broken down in constitution, every day, as soon 
 as it was daylight, used to give every one an opportunity of 
 consulting him- nor, throughout all that war, did any one 
 
422 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ever see him in bed ; and, though old and weak, he was the 
 first man to come into the senate-house. I wish, above all 
 things, that those who ought to do so would imitate his indus- 
 try ; and, next to that, I wish that they would not en\y the 
 exertions of another. 
 
 XI. In truth, O conscript fathers, now we have begun to 
 entertain hopes of liberty again, after a period of six years, 
 during which we have been deprived of it, having endured 
 slavery longer than prudent and industrious prisoners usually 
 do, what watchfulness, what anxiety, what exertions ought 
 We to shrink from, for the sake of delivering the Roman peo- 
 ple? In truth, O conscript fathers, though men who have 
 had the honors conferred on them that we have, usually wear 
 their gowns, while the rest of the city is in the robe of war, 
 still I decided that at such a momentous crisis, and when the 
 whole republic was in so disturbed a state, we would not differ 
 in our dress from you and the rest of the citizens. For we 
 men of consular rank are not in this war conductino- ourselves 
 in such a manner that the Roman people will be likely to 
 look with equanimity on the ensigns of our honor, when some 
 of us are so cowardly as to have cast away all recollection of 
 the kindnesses which they have received from the Roman peo- 
 ple; some are so disaffected to the republic that they openly 
 allege that they favor this enemy, and easily bear having our 
 embassadors despised and insulted by Antonius, while they 
 wish to support the embassador sent by Antonius. For they 
 said that he ought not to be prevented from returning to An- 
 tonius, and they proposed an amendment to my proposition of 
 not receiving him. Well, I will submit to them. Let Yarius, 
 return to his general, but on condition that he never returns 
 to Kome. And as to the others, if they abandon their errors, 
 and return to their duty to the republic, I think they may bo 
 pardoned and left unpunished. 
 
 Therefore, I give my vote, "That of those men who aro 
 with Marcus Antonius, those who abandon his army, and come 
 over either to Caius Pansa or Aulus Ilirtius the consuls; or 
 to Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul elect ; or to Caius 
 Caesar, propraetor, before the first of March next, shall not be 
 liable to prosecution for having been with Antonius. Thai, 
 if any one of those men who are now with Antonius shall do 
 any thing which appears entitled to honor or to reward, Caius 
 Pansa and Aulus Ilirtius the consuls, one or both of therm 
 
THE NINTH PHILIPPIC. 423 
 
 shall, if they think fit, make a motion to the senate respecting 
 that man's honor or reward, at the earliest opportunity. That, 
 if, after this resolution of the senate, any one shall go to An- 
 tonius except Lucius Varius, the senate will consider that that 
 man has acted as an enemy to the republic." 
 
 THE NINTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS 
 
 ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE NINTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Servius Sulpicius, as has been already said, had died on his embassy to 
 Marcus Antonius, before Mutina ; and the day after the delivery of 
 the preceding speech, Pansa again called the senate together to delib- 
 erate on the honors to be paid to his memory. He himself proposed 
 a public funeral, a sepulchre, and a statue. Servilius opposed the 
 statue, as due only to those who had been slain by violence while in 
 discharge of their duties as embassadors. Cicero delivered the follow- 
 ing oration in support of Pansa's proposition, which was carried. 1 
 
 I. I wish, O conscript fathers, that the immortal gods had 
 granted to us to return thanks to Servius Sulpicius while 
 alive, rather than thus to devise honors for him now that he 
 is dead. Nor have I any doubt, but that if that man had been 
 able himself to give us his report of the proceedings of his em- 
 bassy, his return would have been acceptable to you and salu- 
 tary to the republic. Not that either Lucius Piso or Lucius 
 Philippus have been deficient in either zeal or care in the per- 
 formance of so important a duty and so grave a commission ; 
 but, as Servius Sulpicius was superior in age to them, and in 
 wisdom to every one, he, being suddenly taken from the busi- 
 ness, left the whole embassy crippled and enfeebled. 
 
 But if deserved honors have been paid to any embassador 
 after death, there is no one by whom they can be found to 
 have been ever more fully deserved than by Servius Sulpicius. 
 The rest of those men who have died while engaged on an 
 embassy, have gone forth, subject indeed to the usual uncer- 
 
 1 Sulpicius was of about the same age as Cicero, and an early friend 
 of his, and he enjoyed the reputation of being the first lawyer of his time, 
 or of all who ever had studied law as a profession in Rome. 
 
424 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tainties of life, but without any especial danger or fear of 
 death. Servius Sulpicius set out with some hope indeed of 
 reaching Antonius, but with none of returning. But though 
 he was so very ill that if any exertion were added to his bad 
 state of health, he would have no hope of himself, still he did 
 not refuse to try, even while at his last gasp, to be of some 
 service to the republic. Therefore neither the severity of the 
 winter, nor the snow, nor the length of the journey, nor the 
 badness of the roads, nor his daily increasing illness, delayed 
 him. And when he had arrived where he might meet and 
 confer with the man to whom he had been sent, he departed 
 this life in the midst of his care and consideration as to how 
 he might best discharge the duty which he had undertaken. 
 
 As therefore, O Caius Pansa, you have done well in other 
 respects, so you have acted admirably in exhorting us this 
 day to pay honor to Servius Sulpicius, and in yourself making 
 an eloquent oration in his praise. And after the speech which 
 we have heard from you, I should have been content to say 
 nothing beyond barely giving my vote, if I did not think it 
 necessary to reply to Publius Servilius, who has declared his 
 opinion that this honor of a statue ought to be granted to no 
 one who has not been actually slain with a sword while per- 
 forming the duties of his embassy. But I, O conscript fathers, 
 consider that this was the feeling of our ancestors, that they 
 considered that it was the cause of death, and not the manner 
 of it, which was a proper subject for inquiry. In fact, they 
 thought fit that a monument should be erected to any man 
 whose death was caused by an embassy, in order to tempt 
 men in perilous wars to be the more bold in undertaking the 
 office of an embassador. What we ought to do, therefore, is, 
 not to scrutinize the precedents afforded by our ancestors, but 
 to explain their intentions from which the precedents them- 
 selves arose. 
 
 II. Lar Tolumnius, the king of Veii, slew four embassadors 
 of the Roman people, at Fidenae, whose statues were standing 
 in the rostra till within my recollection. The honor was well 
 deserved. For our ancestors gave those men who had en- 
 countered death in the cause of the republic an imperishable 
 memory in exchange for this transitory life. We sec in the 
 rostra the statue of Cnauis Octavius, an illustrious and great 
 man, the first man who brought the consulship into that 
 family, which afterward abounded in illustrious men. There 
 
THE NINTH PHILIPPIC 425 
 
 was no one then who envied him, because he was a new man ,* 
 there was no one who did not honor his virtue. But yet 
 the embassy of Octavius was one in which there was no 
 suspicion of clanger. For having been sent by the senate to 
 investigate the dispositions of kings and of free nations, and 
 especially to forbid the grandson of king Antiochus, the one 
 who had carried on war against our forefathers, to maintain 
 fleets and to keep elephants, he was slain at Laodicea, in the 
 gymnasium, by a man of the name of Leptines. On this a 
 statue was given to him by our ancestors as a recompense for 
 his life, which might ennoble his progeny for many years, and 
 which is now the only memorial left of so illustrious a family. 
 But in his case, and in that of Tullus Cluvius, 1 and Lucius 
 Roscius, and Spurius Antius, and Caius Fulcinius, who were 
 slain by the king of Yeii, it was not the blood that was shed 
 at their death, but the death itself which was encountered in 
 the service of the republic, which was the cause of their being 
 thus honored. 
 
 III. Therefore, O conscript fathers, if it had been chance 
 which had caused the death of Servius Sulpicius, I should 
 sorrow indeed over such a loss to the republic, but I should 
 consider him deserving of the honor, not of a monument, but 
 of a public mourning. But, as it is, who is there who doubts 
 that it was the embassy itself which caused his death ? For 
 he took death away with him ; though, if he had remained 
 among us, his own care, and the attention of his most excel- 
 lent son and his most faithful wife, might have warded it off. 
 But he, as he saw that, if he did not obey your authority, he 
 should not be acting like himself; but that if he did obey, 
 then that duty, undertaken for the welfare of the republic, 
 would be the end of his life ; preferred dying at a most crit- 
 ical period of the republic, to appearing to have done less serv- 
 ice to the republic than he might have done. 
 
 He had an opportunity of recruiting his strength and 
 taking care of himself in many cities through which his 
 journey lay. He was met by the liberal invitation of many 
 entertainers, as his dignity deserved, and the men too who 
 were sent with him exhorted him to take rest, and to think 
 of his own health. But he, refusing all delay, hastening 
 on, eager to perform your commands, persevered in this his 
 constant purpose, in spite of the hindrances of bis JLljuess. 
 1 There is some corruption of the text be r e- 
 
42G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 And as Antonius was above all things disturbed by his arrival, 
 because the commands which were laid upon him by your 
 orders had been drawn up by the authority and wisdom of 
 Servius Sulpicius, he showed plainly how he hated the senate 
 by the evident joy which he displayed at the death of the ad- 
 viser of the senate. 
 
 Leptines then did not kill Octavius, nor did the king of 
 Veii slay those whom I have just named, mere clearly than 
 Antonius killed Servius Sulpicius. Surely he brought the 
 man death, who was the cause of his death. Wherefore, I 
 think it of consequence, in order that posterity may recollect 
 it, that there should be a record of what the judgment of the 
 senate was concerning this war. For the statue itself will be 
 a witness that the war was so serious a one, that the death 
 of an embassador in it gained the honor of an imperishable 
 memorial. 
 
 IV. But if, O conscript fathers, you would only recollect 
 the excuses alleged by Servius Sulpicius why he should not 
 be appointed to this embassy, then no doubt will be left on 
 your minds that we ought to repair by the honor paid to the 
 dead the injury which we did to him while living. For it is 
 you, O conscript fathers (it is a grave charge to make, but it 
 must be uttered), it is you, I say, who have deprived Servius 
 Sulpicius of life. For when you saw him pleading his illness 
 as an excuse more by the truth of the fact than by any labored 
 plea of words, you were not indeed cruel (for what can be 
 more impossible for this order to be guilty of than that), but 
 as you hoped that there was nothing that could not be accom- 
 plished by his authority and wisdom, you opposed his excuse 
 with great earnestness, and compelled the man, who had al- 
 ways thought your decisions of the greatest weight, to abandon 
 his own opinion. But when there was added the exhortation 
 of Pansa,.the consul, delivered with more weight than the ears 
 of Servius Sulpicius had learned to resist, then at last he led me 
 and his own son aside, and said that he was bound to prefer 
 your authority to his own life. And we, admiring his virtue, 
 did not dare to oppose his determination. His son was moved 
 with extraordinary piety and affection, and my own grief did 
 not fall far short of his agitation ; but each of us was com- 
 pelled to yield to his greatness of mind, and to the dignity of his, 
 language, when he, indeed, amid the loud praises and congrat-51 
 illations of you all, promised to do whatever you wished, and 
 
THE NINTH PHILIPPIC. 427 
 
 not to avoid the danger which might be incurred by the adop- 
 tion of the opinion of which he himself had been tiie author. 
 And we the next day escorted him early in the morning as he 
 hastened forth to execute your commands. And he, in truth, 
 when departing, spoke with me in such a manner that his lan- 
 guage seemed like an omen of his fate. 
 
 V. Restore then, O conscript fathers, life to him from whom 
 you have taken it. For the life of the dead consists in the 
 recollection cherished of them by the living. Take ye care 
 that he, whom you without intending it sent to his death, 
 shall from you receive immortality. And if you by your de- 
 cree erect a statue to him in the rostra, no forgetfulness of 
 posterity will ever obscure the memoiy of his embassy. For 
 the remainder of the life of Servius Sulpicius will be recom- 
 mended to the eternal recollection of all men by many and 
 splendid memorials. The praise of all mortals will forever 
 celebrate his wisdom, his firmness, his lovaltv. his admirable 
 vigilance and prudence in upholding the interests of the pub- 
 lic. Nor will that admirable, and incredible, and almost god- 
 like skill of his in interpreting the laws and explaining the 
 principles of equity be buried in silence. If all the men of 
 all ages, who have ever had any acquaintance with the law 
 in this city, were got together into one place, they would not 
 deserve to be compared to Servius Sulpicius. Xor was he 
 more skillful in explaining the law than in laying down the 
 principles of justice. Those maxims which were derived from 
 laws, and from the common law, he constantly referred to the 
 original principles of kindness and equity. Xor was he more 
 fond of arranging the conduct of lawsuits than of prevent- 
 ing disputes altogether. Therefore he is not in want of this 
 memorial which a statue will provide ; he has other and bet- 
 ter ones. For this statue will be only a witness of his honor- 
 able death ; those actions will be the memorial of' his glori- 
 ous life. So that this will be rather a monument of the grat- 
 itude of the senate, than of the glory of the man. 
 
 The affection of the son, too, will appear to have great 
 influence in moving; us to honor the father ; for although, 
 being overwhelmed with grief, he is not present, still you 
 ought to be animated with the same feelings as if he were 
 present. But he is in such distress, that no father ever sor- 
 rowed more over the loss of an only son than he grieves for 
 the death of his father. Indeed, I think that it concerns also 
 
428 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the fame of Servius Sulpicius the son, that he should appear 
 to have paid all due respect to his father. Although Servius 
 Sulpicius could leave no nobler monument behind him than 
 his son, the image of his own manners, and virtues, and wis- 
 dom, and piety, and genius ; whose grief can either be allevi- 
 ated by this honor paid to his father by you, or by no conso- 1 
 lation at all. 
 
 VI. But when I recollect the many conversations which 
 in the days of our intimacy on earth I have had with Servius 
 Sulpicius, it appears to me, that if there be any feeling in 
 the dead, a brazen statue, and that too a pedestrian one, will | 
 be more acceptable to him than a gilt equestrian one, such as 
 was first erected to Lucius Sylla. For Servius was wonder- 
 fully attached to the moderation of our forefathers, and was 
 accustomed to reprove the insolence of this age. As if, there- 
 fore, I were able to consult himself as to what he would wish, 
 so I give my vote for a pedestrian statue of brass, as if I 
 were speaking by his authority and inclination ; which by 
 the honor of the memorial will diminish and mitigate the 
 great grief and regret of his fellow-citizens. And it is certain 
 that this my opinion, O conscript fathers, will be approved of 
 by the opinion of Publius Servilius, who has given his vote 
 that a sepulchre be publicly decreed to Servius Sulpicius, but 
 has voted against the statue. For if the death of an embas- 
 sador happening without bloodshed and violence requires no 
 honor, why does he vote for the honor of a public funeral, 
 which is the greatest honor that can be paid to a dead man ? 
 If he grants that to Servius Sulpicius which was not given 
 to Cnams Octavius, why does he think that we ought not to 
 give to the former what was given to the latter \ Our ances- 
 tors, indeed, decreed statues to many men ; public sepulchres 
 to few. But statues perish by weather, by violence, by lapse 
 of time ; but the sanctity of the sepulchres is in the soil itself, 
 which can neither be moved nor destroyed by any violence ; 
 and while other things are extinguished, so sepulchres become 
 holier by age. 
 
 Let, then, that man be distinguished by that honor also, a 
 man to whom no honor can be given which is not deserved. 
 Let us be grateful in paying respect in death to him to whom 
 we can now show no other gratitude. And by that same 
 step let the audacity of Marcus Antonius, waging a nefarious 
 war, be branded with infamy. For when these honors have 
 
/J> 
 
 THE NINTH PHILIPPIC. 429 
 
 been paid to Servius Sulpicius, the evidence of his embassy 
 having been insulted and rejected by Antonius will remain for 
 everlasting. 
 
 YII. On which account I give my vote for a decree in this 
 form : "As Servius Sulpicius Rufus, the son of Quintus, of the 
 Lemonian tribe, at a most critical period of the republic, and 
 being ill with a very serious and dangerous disease, preferred 
 the authority of the senate and the safety of the republic to 
 his own life, and struggled against the violence and severity 
 of his illness, in order to arrive at the camp of Antonius, to 
 which the senate had sent him ; and as he, when he had al- 
 most arrived at the camp, being overwhelmed by the violence 
 of the disease, has lost his life in discharging a most import- 
 ant office of the republic ; and as his death has been in strict 
 correspondence to a life passed with the greatest integrity and 
 honor, during which he, Servius Sulpicius, has often been of 
 great service to the republic, both as a private individual and 
 in the discharge of various magistracies ; and as he, being such 
 a man, has encountered death on behalf of the republic while 
 employed on an embassy ; — the senate decrees that a brazen 
 pedestrian statue of Servius Sulpicius be erected in the rostra 
 in compliance with the resolution of this order, and that his 
 children and posterity shall have a place round this statue 
 of five feet in every direction, from which to behold the games 
 and gladiatorial combats, because he died in the cause of the 
 republic; and that this reason be inscribed on the pedestal of 
 the statue ; and that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius the con- 
 suls, one or both of them, if it seem good to them, shall com- 
 mand the quaestors of the city to let out a contract for niak- i 
 ing that pedestal and that statue, and erecting them in the 
 rostra ; and that whatever price they contract for, they shall 
 take care the amount is given and paid to the contractor ; 
 and as in old times the senate has exerted its authority with 
 respect to the obsequies of, and honors paid to brave men, it 
 now decrees that he shall be carried to the tomb on the day 
 of his funeral with the greatest possible solemnity. And as// 
 Servius Sulpucius Rufus, the son of Quintus of the Lemonian 
 tribe, has deserved so well of the republic as to be entitled to 
 be complimented with all those distinctions ; the senate is of 
 opinion, and thinks it for the advantage of the republic, that 
 the consule aedile should suspend the edict which usually pre- 
 vails with respect to funerals in the case of the funeral of 
 
430 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Scrvius Sulpicius Rufus, the son of Quintus of the Lemonian 
 tribe ; and that Caius Pansa, the consul, shall assign him a 
 place for a tomb in the Esquiline plain, or in whatever place 
 shall seem good to him, extending thirty feet in every direc- 
 tion, where Servius Sulpicius may be buried; and that that 
 shall be his tomb, and that of his children and posterity, as 
 having been a tomb most deservedly given to them by the 
 public authority." 
 
 THE TENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MARCUS 
 
 ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Soon after the delivery of the last speech, dispatches were received from 
 Brutus by the consuls, giving an account of his success against Caius 
 Antonius in Macedonia ; stating that he had secured Macedonia, Illyr- 
 icum, and Greece, with the armies in those countries ; that Caius An- 
 tonius had retired to Apollonia with seven cohorts ; that a legion under 
 Lucius Piso had surrendered to young Cicero, who was commanding 
 his cavalry ; that Dolabella's cavalry had deserted to him ; and that Ya- 
 tinius had surrendered Dyrrachium and its garrison to him. He like- 
 wise praised Quintus Hortensius, the proconsul of Macedonia, as hav- 
 ing assisted him in gaining over the Grecian provinces and the armies 
 in those districts. 
 
 As soon as Pansa received the dispatches, he summoned the senate to 
 have them read ; and in a set speech greatly extolled Brutus, and 
 moved a vote of thanks to him ; but Calenus, who followed him, de- 
 clared his opinion that as Brutus had acted without any public commis- 
 sion or authority, he should be required to give up his army to the 
 proper governors of the provinces, or to whoever the senate should ap- 
 point to receive it. After he had sat down, Cicero rose, and delivered 
 the following speech. 
 
 I. We all, O Pansa, ought both to feel and to show the 
 greatest gratitude to you, who, — though we did not expect 
 that you would hold any senate to-day, — the moment that 
 you received the letters of Marcus Brutus, that most excellent 
 citizen, did not interpose oven the slightest delay to our en- 
 joying the most excessive delight and mutual congratulation 
 at the earliest opportunity. And not only ought this action 
 of yours to be grateful to us all, but also the speech which 
 
THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 431 
 
 you addressed to us after the letters had been read. For you 
 showed plainly, that that was true which I have always felt 
 to be so, that no one envied the virtue of another who was 
 confident of his own. Therefore I, who have been connected 
 with Brutus by many mutual good offices and by the greatest 
 intimacy, need not say so much concerning him ; for the part 
 that I had marked out for myself your speech has anticipated 
 me in. But r O conscript fathers, the opinion delivered by 
 the man who was asked for his vote before me, has imposed 
 upon me the necessity of saying rather more than I otherwise 
 should have said; and I differ from him so repeatedly at 
 present, that I am afraid (what certainly ought not to be the 
 case) that our continual disagreement may appear to diminish 
 our friendship. 
 
 What can be the meaning of this argument of yours, O Ca- 
 lenus ? what can be your intention? How is it that you have 
 never once since the first of January been of the same opinion 
 with him who asks you your opinion first 1 How is it that 
 the senate has never yet been so full as to enable you to find 
 one single person to agree with your sentiments ? Why are 
 you always defending men who in no point resemble you? 
 why, when both your life and your fortune invite you to tran- 
 quillity and dignity, do you approve of those measures, and 
 defend those measures, and declare those sentiments, which 
 are adverse both to the general tranquillity and to your own 
 individual dignity ? 
 
 II. For to say nothing of former speeches of yours, at all 
 events I can not pass over in silence this which excites my 
 most especial wonder. What war is there between you and 
 the Bruti ? Why do you alone attack those men whom we 
 are all bound almost to worship? Why are you not indig- 
 nant at one of them being besieged, and why do you — as far 
 as your vote goes — strip the other of those troops which by 
 his own exertions and by his own danger he has got together 
 by himself, without any one to assist him, for the protection 
 of the republic, not for himself? What is your meaning in 
 this? What are your intentions? Is it possible that you 
 should not approve of the Bruti, and should approve of An- 
 tonius ? that you should hate those men whom every one 
 else considers most dear ? and that you should love with the 
 greatest constancy those whom every one else hates most bit- 
 terly ? You have a most ample fortune ; you are in the high- 
 
432 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 est rank of honor ; your son, as I both hear and hope, is 
 born to glory, — a youth whom I favor not only for the sake 
 of the republic, but for your sake also. I ask, therefore, 
 would you rather have him like Brutus or like Antonius? 
 and I will let you choose whichever of the three Antonii you 
 please. God forbid ! you will say. Why, then, do you not 
 favor those men and praise those men whom you wish your 
 own son to resemble'? For by so doing you will be both con- 
 sulting the interests of the republic, and proposing him an 
 example for his imitation. 
 
 But in this instance, I hope, O Quintus Fufius, to be al- 
 lowed to expostulate with you, as a senator who greatly dif- 
 fers from you, without any prejudice to our friendship. For 
 you spoke in this matter, and that too from a written paper ; 
 for I should think you had made a slip from want of some 
 appropriate expression, if I were not acquainted with your 
 ability in speaking. You said "that the letters of Brutus 
 appeared properly and regularly expressed." What else is 
 this than praising Brutus's secretary, not Brutus'? You both 
 ought to have great experience in the affairs of the republic, 
 and you have. When did you ever see a decree framed in 
 this manner? or in what resolution of the seiuue passed on 
 such occasions (and they are innumerable), did you ever hear 
 of its being decreed that the letters had been Avell drawn 
 up? And that expression did not — as is often the case with 
 other men — fall from you by chance, but you brought it 
 with you written down, deliberated on, and carefully medi- 
 tated on. 
 
 III. If any one could take from you this habit of dispar- 
 aging good men on almost every occasion, then what qualities 
 would not be left to you which every one would desire for 
 himself? Do, then, recollect yourself; do at last soften and 
 quiet that disposition of yours; do take the advice of good 
 men, with many of whom you are intimate ; do converse with 
 that wisest of men, your own son-in-law, oftener than with 
 yourself; and then you will obtain the name of a man of the 
 ^ery highest character. Do you think it a matter of no con- 
 sequence (it is a matter in which I, out of the friendship 
 which I feel for you, constantly grieve in your stead), that this 
 should be commonly said out of doors, and should be a com- 
 mon topic of conversation among the Roman people, that the 
 man who delivered his opinion first did not find a single per- 
 
THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 433 
 
 son to agree with him ? And that I think will be the case 
 to-day. 
 
 You propose to take the legions away from Brutus : — which 
 legions'? Why, those which he has gained over from the 
 wickedness of Caius Antonius, and has by his own authority 
 gained over to the republic. Do you wish then that he should 
 again appear to be the only person strijDped of his authority, 
 and as it were banished by the senate? And you, O con- 
 script fathers, if you abandon and betray Marcus Brutus, 
 what citizen in the world will you ever distinguish ? "Whom 
 will you ever favor 1 ? Unless, indeed, you think that those 
 men who put a diadem on a man's head deserve to be pre- 
 served, and those who have abolished the very name of kingly 
 power deserve to be abandoned. And of this divine and im- 
 mortal glory of Marcus Brutus I will say no more ; it is al- 
 ready embalmed in the grateful recollection of all the citizens, 
 but it has not yet been sanctioned by any formal act of pub- 
 lic authority. Such patience ! O ye good gods ! such modera- 
 tion ! such tranquillity and submission under injury ! A ma» 
 who, while he was praetor of the city, was driven from the 
 city, was prevented from sitting as judge in legal proceedings, 
 when it was he who had restored all law to the republic ; and, 
 though he might have been hedged round by the daily con- 
 course of all virtuous men, who were constantly flocking round 
 him in marvelous numbers, he preferred to be defended in his 
 absence by the judgment of the good, to being present and 
 protected by their force ; — who was not even present to cele- 
 brate the games to Apollo, which had been prepared in a man- 
 ner suitable to his own dignity and to that of the Roman 
 people, lest he should open any road to the audacity of most 
 wicked men. 
 
 IV. Although, what games or what days were ever more 
 joyful than those on which at every verse that the actor utter- 
 ed, the Roman people did honor to the memory of Brutus, 
 with loud shouts of applause 1 ? The person of their liberator 
 was absent, the recollection of their liberty was present, in 
 which the appearance of Brutus himself seemed to be visible. 
 But the man himself I beheld on those very days of the games, 
 in the country-house of a most illustrious young man, Lucul- 
 lus, his relation, thinking of nothing but the peace and con- 
 cord of the citizens. I saw him again afterward at Velia, 
 departing from Italy, in order that there might be no pretext 
 
 T 
 
434 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 for civil war on his account. Oh what a sight was that! 
 grievous, not only to men but to the very waves and shores. 
 That its savior should be departing from his country ; that its 
 destroyers should be remaining in their country ! The fleet of 
 Cassius followed a few days afterward ; so that I was ashamed, 
 O conscript fathers, to return into the city from which those 
 men were departing. But the design with which I returned 
 you heard at the beginning, and since that you have known 
 by experience. Brutus, therefore, bided his time. For, as long 
 as he saw you endure every thing, he himself behaved with 
 incredible patience ; after that he saw you roused to a desire 
 of liberty, he prepared the means to protect you in your liberty. 
 
 But what a pest, and how great a pest was it which he re- 
 sisted "1 For if Caius Antonius had been able to accomplish 
 what he intended in his mind (and he would have been able 
 to do so if the virtue of Marcus Brutus had not opposed his 
 wickedness), we should have lost Macedonia, Illyricum, and 
 Greece. Greece would have been a refuge for Antonius if 
 defeated, or a support to him in attacking Italy ; which at 
 present, being not only arrayed in arms, but embellished by the 
 military command and authority and troops of Marcus Bru- 
 tus, stretches out her right hand to Italy, and promises it her 
 protection. And the man who proposes to deprive him of 
 his army, is taking away a most illustrious honor, and a most 
 trustworthy guard from the republic. I wish, indeed, that 
 Antonius may hear this news as speedily as possible, so that 
 he may understand that it is not Decimus Brutus whom he 
 is surrounding with his ramparts, but he himself who is really 
 hemmed in. 
 
 V. He possesses three towns only on the whole face of the 
 earth. He has Gaul most bitterly hostile to him ; he has 
 even those men the people beyond the Fo, in whom he placed 
 the greatest reliance, entirely alienated from him ; all Italy 
 is his enemy. Foreign nations, from the nearest coast of 
 Greece to Egypt, are occupied by the military command and 
 armies of most virtuous and intrepid citizens. His only hope 
 was in Caius Antonius ; who being in age the middle one be- 
 tween his two brothers, rivaled both of them in vices. He 
 hastened away as if he were being driven away by the senate 
 into Macedonia, not as if he were prohibited from proceeding 
 thither. What a storm, O ye immortal gods! what a con- 
 flagration ! what a devastation! what a pestilence to Greece 
 
THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 435 
 
 would that man have been, if incredible and godlike virtue 
 had not checked the enterprise and audacity of that frantic 
 man. What promptness was there in Brutus's conduct ! what 
 prudence! what valor! Although the rapidity of the move- 
 ment of Caius Antonius also is not despicable ; for if some 
 vacant inheritances had not delayed him on his march, you 
 might have said that he had flown rather than traveled. 
 When we desire other men to go forth to undertake any 
 public business, we are scarcely able to get them out of the 
 city ; but we have driven this man out by the mere fact of 
 our desiring to retain him. But what business had he with. 
 Apollonia ? what business had he with Dyrrachium ? or with 
 Illyricum? "What had he to do with the army of Publius 
 Vatinius, our general? He, as he said himself, was the suc- 
 cessor of Hortensius. The boundaries of Macedonia are well 
 defined ; the condition of the proconsul is well known ; the 
 amount of his army, if he has any at all, is fixed. But what 
 had Antonius to do at all with Illyricum and with the legions 
 of Vatinius ? 
 
 But Brutus had nothing to do with them either. For that, 
 perhaps, is what some worthless man may say- All the le> 
 gions, all the forces which exist any where, belong to the Ro- 
 man people. Nor shall those legions which have quitted Mar" 
 cus Antonius be called the legions of Antonius rather than of 
 the republic; for he loses all power over his army, and all the 
 privileges of military command, who uses that military com- 
 mand and that army to attack the republic. 
 
 VI. But if the republic itself could give a decision, or if 
 all rights were established by its decrees, would it adjudge the 
 legions of the Roman people to Antonius or to Brutus? The 
 one had flown with precipitation to the plunder and destruc- 
 tion of the allies, in order, wherever he went, to lay waste, 
 and pillage, and plunder every thing, and to employ the army 
 of the Roman people against the Roman people itself. The 
 other had laid down this law for himself, that wherever he 
 came he should appear to come as a sort of light and hope of 
 safety. Lastlv, the one was seeking aids to overturn the re- 
 public ; the other to preserve it. Nor, indeed, did we see this 
 more clearly than the soldiers themselves ; from whom so 
 much discernment in judging was not to have been expected. 
 
 He writes, that Antonius is at Apollonia with seven co- 
 horts, and he is either by this time taken prisoner (may the 
 
430 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 gods grant it!) or, at all events, like a modest man, he does 
 not come near Macedonia, lest he should seem to act in op- 
 position to the resolution of the senate. A levy of troops has 
 been held in Macedonia, by the great zeal and diligence of 
 Quint us Ilortensius ; whose admirable courage, worthy both 
 of himself and of his ancestors, you may clearly perceive from 
 the letters of Brutus. The legion which Lucius Piso, the 
 lieutenant of Antonius, commanded, has surrendered itself to 
 Cicero, my own son. Of the cavalry, which was being led 
 into Syria in two divisions, one division has left the quaestor 
 who was commanding it, in Thessaly, and has joined Brutus ; 
 and Cnasus Domitius, a young man of the greatest virtue and 
 wisdom and firmness, has carried off the other from the Syrian 
 lieutenant in Macedonia. But Publius Yatinius, who has be- 
 fore this been deservedly praised by us, and who is justly enti- 
 tled to farther praise at the present time, has opened the gates 
 of Dyrrachium to Brutus, and has given him up his army. 
 
 The Roman people then is now in possession of Macedonia, 
 and niyricum, and Greece. The legions there are all devoted 
 to us, the light-armed troops are ours, the cavalry is ours, and, 
 above all, Brutus is ours, and always will be ours — a man 
 born for the republic, both by his own most excellent virtues, 
 and also by some especial destiny of name and family, both on 
 his father's and on his mother's side. 
 
 VII. Does any one then fear war from this man, who, until 
 we commenced the war, being compelled to do so, preferred 
 lying unknown in peace to flourishing in war 1 Although he, 
 in truth, never did lie unknown, nor can this expression pos- 
 sibly be applied to such great eminence in virtue. For he was 
 the object of regret to the state ; he was in every one's mouth, 
 the subject of every one's conversation. But he was so far re- 
 moved from an inclination to war, that, though he was burn- 
 ing with a desire to see Italy free, he preferred being wanting 
 to the zeal of the citizens, to leading them to put every thing 
 to the issue of war. Therefore, those very men, if there be 
 any such, who find fault with the slowness of Brutus' s move- 
 ments, nevertheless at the same time admire his moderation 
 and his patience. 
 
 But I see now what it is they mean : nor, in truth, do they 
 use much disguise. They say that they are aliraid how the 
 veterans may endure the idea of Brutus having an army. As 
 if there were any difference between the troops of Aulus Hip- 
 

 THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 437 
 
 tlus, of Caius Pansa, of Decimus Brutus, of Caius Caesar, and 
 this army of Marcus Brutus. For if these four armies which 
 I have mentioned are praised because they have taken up 
 arms for the sake of the liberty of the Roman people, what 
 reason is there why this army of Marcus Brutus should not 
 be classed under the same head ! Oh, but the very name of 
 Marcus Brutus is unpopular among the veterans. — More than 
 that of Decimus Brutus? — I think not; for although the ac. 
 tion is common to both the Bruti, and although their share in 
 the glory is equal, still those men who were indignant at that 
 deed were more angry with Decimus Brutus, because they 
 said, that it was more improper for it to be executed by him. 
 What now are all those armies laboring at, except to effect 
 the release of Decimus Brutus from a siege? And who are 
 the commanders of those armies? Those men, I suppose, 
 who wish the acts of Caius Cassar to be overturned, and the 
 cause of the veterans to be betrayed. 
 
 VIII. If Caesar himself were alive, could he, do you im- 
 agine, defend his own acts more vigorously than that most 
 gallant man Hirtius defends them ? or, is it possible that any 
 one should be found more friendly to the cause than his son ? 
 But the one of these, though not long recovered from a very 
 long attack of a most severe disease, has applied all the energy 
 and influence which he had to defending the liberty of those 
 men by whose prayers he considered that he himself had been 
 recalled from death ; the other, stronger in the strength of his 
 virtue than in that of his age, has set out with those very 
 veterans to deliver Decimus Brutus. Therefore, those men 
 who are both the most certain and at the same time the most 
 energetic defenders of the acts of Caesar, are waging war for 
 the safety of Decimus Brutus ; and they are followed by the 
 veterans. For they see that they must fight to the uttermost 
 for the freedom of the Roman people, not for their own ad- 
 vantages. What reason, then, is there why the army of Mar- 
 cus Brutus should be an object of suspicion to those men who 
 with the whole of their energies desire the preservation of 
 Decimus Brutus? 
 
 But, moreover, if. there were any thing which were to be 
 feared from Marcus Brutus, would not Pansa perceive it? Or 
 if he did perceive it, would not he, too, be anxious about it ? 
 Who is either more acute in his conjectures of the future, or 
 more diligent in warding off danger? But you have already 
 
438 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 seen his zeal for, and inclination toward Marcus Brutus. He 
 has already told us in his speech what we ought to decree, 
 and how we ought to feel with respect to Marcus Brutus. 
 And he was so far from thinking the army of Marcus Brutus 
 dangerous to the republic, that he considered it the most im- 
 portant and the most trusty bulwark of the republic. Either, 
 then, Pansa does not perceive this (no doubt he is a man of 
 dull intellect), or he disregards it. For he is clearly not anx- 
 ious that the acts which Caesar executed should be ratified, — 
 he, who in compliance with our recommendation is going to 
 bring forward a bill at the comitia centuriata for sanctioning 
 and confirming them. 
 
 IX. Let those, then, who have no fear, cease to pretend to 
 be alarmed, and to be exercising their foresight in the cause 
 of the republic. And let those who really are afraid of every 
 thing, cease to be too fearful, lest the pretense of the one party 
 and the inactivity of the other be injurious to us. What, in 
 the name of mischief! is the object of always opposing the 
 name of the veterans to every good cause ? For even if I 
 were attached to their virtue, as indeed I am, still, if they 
 were arrogant I should not be able to tolerate their airs. 
 While we are endeavoring to break the bonds of slavery, shall 
 any one hinder us by saying that the veterans do not approve 
 of it? For they are not, I suppose, beyond all counting, who 
 are ready to take up arms in defense of the common freedom ! 
 There is no man, except the veteran soldiers, who is stimulated 
 by the indignation of a freeman to repel slavery ! Can the 
 republic then stand, relying wholly on veterans, without a 
 great reinforcement of the youth of the state ! AY horn, indeed, 
 you ought to be attached to, if they be assistants to you in 
 the assertion of your freedom, but whom you ought not to 
 follow if they be the advisers of slavery. 
 
 Lastly (let me at last say one true word, one word worthy 
 of myself!) — if the inclinations of this order are governed by 
 the nod of the veterans, and if all our words and actions are 
 to be referred to their will, death is what we should wish for, 
 which has always, in the minds of Roman citizens, been pref- 
 erable to slavery. All slavery is miserable; but some may 
 have been unavoidable. Do you think, then, that there is 
 never to be a beginning of our endeavors to recover our free- 
 dom? Or, when we would not bear that fortune which was 
 unavoidable, and which seemed almost as if appointed by 
 
THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 439 
 
 destiny, shall we tolerate the voluntary bondage ? All Italy 
 is burning with a desire for freedom. The city can not en- 
 dure slavery any longer. We have given this warlike attire 
 and these arms to the Roman people much later than they 
 have been demanded of us by them. 
 
 X. We have, indeed, undertaken our present course of ac- 
 tion with a great and almost certain hope of liberty. But 
 even if I allow that the events of war are uncertain, and that 
 the chances of Mars are common to both sides, still it is worth 
 while to fight for freedom at the peril of one's life. For life 
 does not consist wholly in breathing ; there is literally no life 
 at all for one who is a slave. All nations can endure slavery. 
 Our state can not. Nor is there any other reason for tlii-, 
 except that those nations shrink from toil and pain, and are 
 willing to endure any thing so long as they may be free from 
 those evils ; but we have been trained and bred up by our 
 forefathers in such a manner, as to measure 'all our designs 
 and all our actions by the standard of dignity and virtue. 
 The recovery of freedom is so splendid a thing that we must 
 not shun even death when seeking to recover it. But if im- 
 mortality were to be the result of our avoidance of present 
 danger, still slavery would appear still more worthy of being 
 avoided, in proportion as it is of longer duration. But as all 
 sorts of death surround us on all sides night and day, it does 
 not become a man, and least of all a Roman, to hesitate to 
 give up to his country that breath which he owes to nature. 
 
 Men flock together from all quarters to extinguish a general 
 conflagration. The veterans were the first to follow the au- 
 thority of Caesar, and to repel the attempts of Antonius ; after- 
 ward the Martial legion checked his phrensy ; the fourth legion 
 crushed it. Being thus condemned by his own legions, he 
 burst into Gaul, which he knew to be adverse and hostile to 
 him both in word and deed. The armies of Aulus Hirtius 
 and Caius Caesar pursued him ; and afterward the levies of 
 Pansa roused the city and all Italy. He is the one enemy of 
 all men. Although he has with him Lucius his brother, a 
 citizen very much beloved by the Roman people, the regret 
 for whose absence the city is unable to endure any longer! 
 What can be more foul than that beast"? what more savage? 
 who appears born for the express purpose of preventing Mar- 
 cus Antonius from being the basest of all mortals. They have 
 with them Trebellius, who, now that all debts are canceled, is 
 
440 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 become reconciled to them ; and Titus Plancus, and other like 
 them; who are striving with all their hearts, and whose sole 
 object is, to appear to have been restored against the will of 
 the republic. Saxa and Capho, themselves rustic and clown- 
 ish men, men who never have seen and who never wish to see 
 this republic firmly established, are tampering with the igno- 
 rant classes ; men who are not upholding the acts of Caesar 
 but those of Antonius ; who are led away by the unlimited oc- 
 cupation of the Campanian district ; and who I marvel are not 
 somewhat ashamed when they see that they have actors and 
 actresses for their neighbors. 
 
 XI. Why then should we be displeased that the army of 
 Marcus Brutus is thrown into the scale to assist us in over- 
 whelming these pests of the commonwealth ? It is the army, 
 I suppose, of an intemperate and turbulent man. I am more 
 afraid of his being too patient ; although in all the counsels 
 and actions of that man there never has been any thing either 
 too much or too little. The whole inclinations of Marcus 
 Brutus, O conscript fathers, the whole of his thoughts, the 
 whole of his ideas, are directed toward the authority of the 
 senate and the freedom of the Eoman people. These are the 
 objects which he proposes to himself; these are what he de- 
 sires to uphold. He has tried what he could do by patience ; 
 as he did nothing, he has thought it necessary to encounter 
 force by force. And, O conscript fathers, you ought at this 
 time to grant him the same honors which on the nineteenth 
 of December you conferred by my advice on Decimus Brutus 
 and Caius Ca?sar, whose designs and conduct in regard to the 
 republic, while they also were but private individuals, was ap- 
 proved of and praised by your authority. And you ought to 
 do the same now with respect to Marcus Brutus, by whom an 
 unhoped for and sudden reinforcement of legions and cavalry, 
 and numerous and trusty bands of allies, have been provided 
 for the republic. 
 
 Quintus Hortensius also ought to have a share of your 
 praise, who, being governor of Macedonia, joined Brutus as a 
 most faithful and untiring assistant in collecting that army. 
 For I think that a separate motion ought to be made respect- 
 ing Marcus Appuleius, to whom Brutus bears witness in his 
 letters that he has been a prime assistant to him in his endeav- 
 ors to get together and equip his army. And since this is the 
 case, 
 
THE TENTH PHILIPPIC. 441 
 
 " As Caius Pansa the consul has addressed to us a speech 
 concerning the letters which have been received from Quintus 
 Caepio Brutus, 1 proconsul, and have been read in this assem- 
 bly, I give my vote in this matter thus : 
 
 a Since, by the exertions and wisdom and industry and val- 
 or of Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, at a most critical pe- 
 riod of the republic, the province of Macedonia, and Illyricum, 
 and all Greece, and the legions and armies and cavalry, have 
 been preserved in obedience to the consuls and senate and peo- 
 ple of Koine ; Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, has acted 
 well, and in a manner advantageous to the republic, and suit- 
 able to his own dignity and to that of his ancestors, and to 
 the principles according to which alone the affairs of the re- 
 public can be properly managed ; and that conduct is and will 
 be grateful to the senate and people of Eome. 
 
 "And moreover, as Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, is 
 occupying and defending and protecting the province of Mac- 
 edonia, and Illyricum, and all Greece, and is preserving them 
 in safety; and as he is in command of an army which he 
 himself has levied and collected, he is at liberty if he has need 
 of any, to exact money for the use of the military service, 
 which belongs to the public, and can lawfully be exacted, and 
 to use it, and to borrow money for the exigencies of the war 
 from whomsoever he thinks fit, and to exact corn, and to en- 
 deavor to approach Italy as near as he can with his forces. , 
 And as it has been understood from the letters of Quintus 
 Caepio Brutus, proconsul, that the republic has been greatly 
 benefited by the energy and valor of Quintus Hortensius, pro- 
 consul, and that all his counsels have been in harmony with 
 those of Quintus Caepio Brutus, proconsul, and that that har- 
 mony has been of the greatest service to the republic ; Quin- 
 tus Hortensius has acted well and becomingly, and in a man- 
 ner advantageous to the republic. And the senate decrees 
 that Quintus Hortensius, proconsul, shall occupy the province 
 of Macedonia with his quaestors, or proquaestors and lieuten- 
 ants, until he shall have a successor regularly appointed by a 
 resolution of the senate." 
 
 1 Brutus had been adopted by his maternal uncle Quintus Servilius 
 Caepio ; so that his legal designation was what is given in the text now, 
 as Cicero is proposing a formal vote — though at all other times we see 
 that he calls him Marcus Brutus. 
 
 T2 
 
442 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 THE ELEVENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST 
 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT- 
 
 A. short time after the delivery of the preceding speech, news came t<j 
 Rome of Dolabella (the colleague of j\ntonius) having been very sue 
 cessful in Asia. He had left Rome before the expiration of his con- 
 sulship to take possession of Syria, which Antonius had contrived to 
 have allotted him ; and he hoped to prevail on the inhabitants of the 
 province of Asia also to abandon Trebonius (who had been one of the 
 slayers of Caesar, and was governor of Asia), and submit to him. Tre- 
 bonius was residing at Smyrna ; and Dolabella arrived before the walls 
 of that town with very few troops, requesting a free passage through 
 Trebonius's province. Trebonius refused to admit him into the town, 
 but promised that he would permit hiin to enter Epbesus. Dolabella, 
 however, effected an entry into Smyrna by a nocturnal surprise, and 
 seized Trebonius, whom he murdered with great cruelty. 
 
 As soon as the news of this event reached Rome, the consul summoned 
 the senate, which at once declared Dolabella a public enemy, and con- 
 fiscated his estate. Calenus was the mover of this decree. But besides 
 this motion there was' another question to be settled, namely, who was 
 to be appointed to conduct the war against Dolabella. Some proposed 
 to send Publius Servilius ; others, that the two consuls should be sent, 
 and should have the two provinces of Asia and Syria allotted to them ; 
 and this last proposition Pansa himself was favorable to ; and it was 
 supported not only by his friends, but also by the partisans of Anto- 
 nius, who thought it would draw off the consuls from their present 
 business of relieving Decimus Brutus. But Cicero thought that it 
 would be an insult to Cassius, who was already in those countries, to 
 supersede him as it were, by sending any one else to command there ; 
 and so he exerted all his influence to procure a decree intrusting the 
 command to him ; though Servilia, the mother-in-law of Cassius, and 
 other of Cassius's friends, begged him not to disoblige Pansa. He 
 persevered, however, and made the following speech in support of his 
 opinion. 
 
 It appears that Cicero failed in his proposition through the influence of 
 Pansa; but before any orders came from Rome, Cassius had defeated 
 Dolabella near Laodicea, and he killed himself to avoid failing into the 
 hands of his conqueror. 
 
 I. Amid the great grief, O conscript fathers, or rather mis- 
 ery which we have suffered at the cruel and melancholy death 
 of Caius Trebonius, a most virtuous citizen and a most mod- 
 

 THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC 443 
 
 erate man, there is still a circumstance or two in the case 
 which I think will turn out beneficial to the republic. For 
 we have now thoroughly seen what great barbarity these men 
 are capable of who have taken up wicked arms against their 
 country. For these two, Dolabella and Antonius, are the 
 very blackest and foulest monsters that have ever lived since 
 the birth of man ; one of whom has now done what he wish- 
 ed ; and as to the other, it has been plainly shown what he 
 intended. Lucius Cinna was cruel ; Caius Marias was unre- 
 lenting in his anger ; Lucius Sylla was fierce ; but still the in- 
 humanity of none of these men ever went beyond death ; and 
 that punishment indeed was thought too cruel to be inflicted 
 on citizens. 
 
 Here now you have a pair equal in wickedness ; unprece- 
 dented, unheard of, savage, barbarous. Therefore those men 
 whose vehement mutual hatred and quarrel you recollect a 
 short time ago, have now been united in singular unanimity 
 and mutual attachment by the singularity of their wicked na- 
 tures and most infamous lives. Therefore, that which Dola- 
 bella has now done in a case in which he had the power, An- 
 tonius threatens many with. But the former, as he was a 
 long way from our counsels and armies, and as he was not 
 yet aware that the senate had united with the Roman people, 
 relying on the forces of Antonius, has committed those wicked 
 actions which he thought were already put in practice at Rome 
 by his accomplice in wickedness. What else then do you think 
 that this man is contriving or wishing, or what other object 
 do you think he has in the war? All of us who have either 
 entertained the thoughts of freemen concerning the republic, 
 or have given utterance to opinions worthy of ourselves, he 
 decides to be not merely opposed to him, but actual enemies. 
 And he plans' inflicting bitterer punishments on us than on 
 the enemy ; he thinks death a punishment imposed by nature, 
 but torments and tortures the proper inflictions of anger. 
 What sort of enemy then must we consider that man who, if 
 he be victorious, requires one to think death a kindness if he 
 spares one the tortures with which it is in his power to ac- 
 company it ? 
 
 II. Wherefore, O conscript fathers, although you do not 
 need any one to exhort you (for you yourself have of your 
 own accord warmed up with the desire of recovering your 
 freedom), still defend, I warn you, your freedom with so much 
 
444 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the more zeal and courage, in proportion as the punishments 
 of slavery with which you see the conquered are threatened 
 are more terrible. Antonius has invaded Gaul ; Dolabella, 
 Asia ; each a province with which he had no business what- 
 ever. Brutus has opposed himself to the one, and at the peril 
 of his own life has checked the onset of that frantic man wish- 
 ing to harass and plunder every thing, has prevented his far- 
 ther progress, and has cut him off from his return. By allow- 
 ing himself to be besieged he has hemmed in Antonius on each 
 side. 
 
 The other has forced his way into Asia. With what object? 
 If it was merely to proceed into Syria, he had a road open to 
 him which was sure, and was not long. What was the need 
 of sending forward some Marsian, they call him Octavius, 
 with a legion ; a wicked and necessitous robber ; a man to 
 lay waste the lands, to harass the cities, not from any hope 
 of acquiring any permanent property, which they who know 
 him say that he is unable to keep (for I have not the honor 
 of being acquainted with this senator myself), but just as 
 present food to satisfy his indigence? Dolabella followed 
 him, without any one having any suspicion of war. For how 
 could any one think of such a thing? Very friendly confer- 
 ences with Trebonius ensued ; embraces, false tokens of the 
 greatest good- will, were there full of simulated affection ; the 
 pledge of the right hand, which used to be a witness of good 
 faith, was violated by treachery and wickedness ; then came 
 the nocturnal entry into Smyrna, as if into an enemy's city — 
 Smyrna, which is a city of our most faithful and most ancient 
 allies ; then the surprise of Trebonius, who, if he were sur- 
 prised by one who was an open enemy, was very careless ; if 
 by one who up to that moment maintained the appearance of 
 a citizen, was miserable. And by his example fortune wished 
 us to take a lesson of what the conquered party had to fear. 
 He handed over a man of consular rank, governing the prov- 
 ince of Asia with consular authority, to an exiled armorer; 1 
 he would not slay him the moment that he had taken him, 
 fearing, I suppose, that his victory might appear too merciful ; 
 
 1 The Latin is Samiarius, or as some read it Samarii/s. Orellius says, 
 " perhaps it means some sort of trade, for I doubt its having been a Ro- 
 man proper name." Nizollius says, "Samanus *xul — proverbium" Fac- 
 ciolatti calls him a man whose business it Ttm to #lean the arms of the 
 guards, &c, with Samian chalk. 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 445 
 
 but after having attacked that most excellent man with in- 
 sultino- words from his impious mouth, then he examined him 
 with scourges and tortures concerning the public money, and 
 that for two days together. Afterward he cut off his head, 
 and ordered it to be fixed on a javelin and carried about ; and 
 the rest of his body, having been dragged through the street 
 and town, he threw into the sea. 
 
 We, then, have to war against this enemy by whose most 
 foul cruelty all the savageness of barbarous nations is sur- 
 passed. Why need I speak of the massacre of Eoman citizens ? 
 of the plunder of temples ! "Who is there who can possibly 
 deplore such circumstances as their atrocity deserves ! And 
 now he is ranging all over Asia, he is triumphing about as a 
 king, he thinks that we are occupied in another quarter by 
 another war, as if it were not one and the same war against 
 this outrageous pair of impious men. 
 
 III. You see now an image of the cruelty of Marcus Anto- 
 nius in Dolabella ; this conduct of his is formed on the model 
 of the other. It is by him that the lessons of wickedness 
 have been taught to Dolabella. Do you think that Antonius, 
 if he had the power, would be more merciful in Italy than 
 Dolabella has proved in Asia 1 To me, indeed, this latter ap- 
 pears to have gone as far as the insanity of a savage man could 
 go ; nor do I believe that Antonius either would omit any de- 
 scription of punishment, if he had only the power to inflict it. 
 
 Place then before your eyes, O conscript fathers, that spec- 
 tacle, miserable indeed, and tearful, but still indispensable to 
 rouse your minds properly: the nocturnal attack upon the 
 most beautiful city in Asia ; the irruption of armed men into 
 Trebonius's house, when that unhappy man saw the swords 
 of the robbers before he heard what was the matter ; the en- 
 trance of Dolabella, raging, — his ill-omened voice, and infamous 
 countenance, — the chains, the scourges, the rack, the armorer 
 who was both torturer and executioner; all which they say 
 that the unhappy Trebonius endured with great fortitude. A 
 great praise, and in my opinion indeed the greatest of all , 
 for it is the part of a wise man to resolve beforehand that 
 whatever can happen to a brave man is to be endured with 
 patience if it should happen. It is indeed a proof of altogeth- 
 er greater wisdom to act with such foresight as to prevent any 
 such thing from happening ; but it is a token of no less coup 
 age to bear it bravely if it should befall one. 
 
440 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 And Dolabella was indeed so wholly forgetful of the claims 
 of humanity (although, indeed, he never had any particu- 
 lar recollection of it), as to vent his insatiable cruelty, not 
 only on the living man, but also on the dead carcass, and, 
 as he could not sufficiently glut his hatred, to feed his eyes 
 also on the lacerations inflicted, and the insults offered to his 
 corpse. 
 
 IV. O Dolabella, much more wretched than he whom you 
 intended to be the most wretched of all men ! Trebonius en- 
 dured great agonies ; many men have endured greater still, 
 from severe disease, whom, however, we are in the habit of 
 calling not miserable, but afflicted. His sufferings, which 
 lasted two days, were long ; but many men have had suffer- 
 ings lasting many years ; nor are the tortures inflicted by ex- 
 ecutioners more terrible than those caused by disease are 
 sometimes. There are other tortures, — others, I tell you, O 
 you most abandoned and insane man, which are far more 
 miserable. For in proportion as the vigor of the mind ex- 
 ceeds that of the body, so also are the sufferings which rack 
 the mind more terrible than those which are endured by the 
 body. He, therefore, who commits a wicked action is more 
 wretched than he who is compelled to endure the wickedness 
 of another. Trebonius was tortured by Dolabella ; and so, in- 
 deed, was Regulus by the Carthaginians. If on that account 
 the Carthaginians were considered very cruel for such behav- 
 ior to an enemy, what must we think of Dolabella, who treat- 
 ed a citizen in such a manner ! Is there any comparison ? or 
 can we doubt which of the two is most miserable ? he whose 
 death the senate and Roman people wish to avenge, or he who 
 has been adjudged an enemy by the unanimous vote of the 
 senate? For in every other particular of their lives, who 
 could possibly, without the greatest insult to Trebonius, com- 
 pare the life of Trebonius to that of Dolabella ? Who is ig- 
 norant of the wisdom, and genius, and humanity, and inno- 
 cence of the one, and of his greatness of mind as displayed 
 in his exertions for the freedom of his country .' The other, 
 from his very childhood, has taken delight in cruelty ; and, 
 moreover, such has been the shameful nature of his lusts, that 
 he has always delighted in the very fact of doing those things 
 which he could not even be reproached with by a modest 
 enemy. 
 
 And this man, O ye immortal gods, was once my relation J 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 447 
 
 For his vices were unknown to one who did not inquire into 
 6uch things : nor perhaps should I now be alienated from him 
 if he hacT not been discovered to be an enemy to you, to the 
 walls of his country, to this city, to our household gods, to 
 the altars and hearths of all of us, — in short, to human na- 
 ture and to common humanity. But now, having received 
 this lesson from him, let us be the more diligent and vigilant 
 in being on our guard against Antonius. 
 
 V. Indeed, Dolabella had not with him any great number 
 of notorious and conspicuous robbers. But you see there are 
 with Antonius, and in what numbers. In the first place, 
 there is his brother Lucius — what a fire-brand, O ye immortal 
 gods ! what an incarnation of crime and wickedness ! what a 
 gulf, what a whirlpool of a man ! What do you think that 
 man incapable of swallowing up in his mind, or gulping down 
 in his thoughts? Who do you imagine there is whose blood 
 he is not thirsting for? who, on whose possessions and for- 
 tunes he is not fixing his most impudent eye?, his hopes, and 
 his whole heart? What shall we say of Censorinus? who, 
 as far as words go, said indeed that he wished to be the city 
 praetor ; but who, in fact, was unwilling to be so. AYhat of 
 Bestia, who professes that he is a candidate for the consulship 
 in the place of Brutus ? May Jupiter avert from us this 
 most detestable omen ! But how absurd is it for a man to 
 stand for the consulship who can not be elected praetor ! un- 
 less, indeed, he thinks his conviction may be taken as an 
 equivalent to the praetorship. Let this second Caesar, this 
 great Vopiscus, 1 a man of consummate genius, of the highest 
 influence, who seeks the consulship immediately after having 
 heen aedile, be excused from obedience to the laws. Although, 
 indeed, the laws do not bind him, on account, I suppose, of 
 his exceeding dignity. But this man has been acquitted five 
 times when I have defended him. To win a sixth city vic- 
 tory is difficult, even in the case of a gladiator. However, 
 this is the fault of the judges ; not mine. I defended him 
 with' perfect good faith ; they were bound to retain a most 
 illustrious and excellent citizen in the republic ; who now, 
 however, appears to have no other object except to make us 
 understand that those men whose judicial decisions we an- 
 nulled, decided rightly and in a manner advantageous to the 
 republic. 
 
 1 Vopiscus is another name of Bestia. 
 
448 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Nor is this the case with respect to this man alone ; there 
 are other men in the same camp honestly condemned and 
 shamefully restored ; what counsel do you imagine can be 
 adopted by those men who are enemies to all good men, that 
 is not utterly cruel 1 There is besides a fellow called Saxa ; I 
 don't know who he is ; some man whom Caesar imported from 
 the extremity of Celtiberia and gave us for a tribune of the 
 people. Before that, he was a measurer of ground for camps ; 
 now he hopes to measure out and value the city. May the 
 evils which this foreigner predicts to us fall on his own head, 
 and may we escape in safety ! With him is the veteran Capho ; 
 nor is there any man whom the veteran troops hate more cor- 
 dially : to these men, as if in addition to the dowry which they 
 had received during our civil disasters, Antonius had given 
 the Campanian district, that they might have it as a sort of 
 nurse for their other estates. I only wish they would be con- 
 tented with them ! We would bear it then, though it would 
 not be what ought to be borne; but still it would be worth 
 our while to bear any thing, as long as we could escape this 
 most shameful war. 
 
 VI. What more*? Have you not before your eyes those 
 ornaments of the camp of Marcus Antonius? In the first 
 place, these two colleagues of the Antonii and Dolabella, Nu- 
 cula and Lento, the dividers of all Italy according to that law 
 which the senate pronounced to have been carried by vio- 
 lence ; one of whom has been a writer of farces, and the other 
 an actor of tragedies. Why should I speak of Domitius the 
 Apulian? whose property we have lately seen advertised, so 
 great is the carelessness of his agents. But this man lately 
 was not content with giving poison to his sister's son, he act- 
 ually drenched him with it. But it is impossible for these 
 men to live in any other than a prodigal manner, who hope for 
 our property while they are squandering their own. I have 
 seen also an auction of the property of Publius Decius, an il- 
 lustrious man ; who, following the example of his ancestors, 
 devoted himself for the debts of another. But at that auction 
 no one was found to be a purchaser. Ridiculous man to think 
 it possible to escape from debt by selling other people's prop- 
 erty ! For why should I speak of Trebellius 1 on whom the 
 furies of debts seem to have wreaked their vengeance; for we 
 have seen one table 1 avenging another. Why should I speak of 
 
 1 It is impossible to give the force of the original here, which plays or 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 449 
 
 Plancus? whom that most illustrious citizen Aquila has driven 
 from Pollentia, — and that too with a broken leg; and I wish 
 he had met with that accident earlier, so as not to be liable to 
 return hither. 
 
 I had almost passed over the light and glory of that army, /^ 
 Caius Annius Cimber, the son of Lysidicus, a Lysidicus him- 
 self in the Greek meaning of the word, since he has broken 
 all laws, unless perhaps it is natural for a Cimbrian to slay a 
 German. 1 When Antonius has such numbers with him, and 
 those too men of that sort, w r hat crime will he shrink from, 
 when Dolabella has polluted himself with such atrocious mur- 
 ders without at all an equal troop of robbers to support him? 
 Wherefore, as I have often at other times differed against my 
 will from Quintus Fuiius, so on this occasion I gladly agree 
 with his proposition. And from this you may see that my 
 difference is not with the man, but with the cause which he 
 sometimes advocates. 
 
 Therefore, at present I not only agree with Quintus Fufius, 
 but I even return thanks to him ; for he has given utterance 
 to opinions which are upright, and dignified, and worthy of 
 the republic. He has pronounced Dolabella a public enemy ; 
 he has declared his opinion that his property ought to be con- 
 fiscated by public authority. And though nothing could be 
 added to this (for, indeed, what could he propose more severe 
 or more pitiless ?), nevertheless, he said that if any of those men 
 who were asked their opinion after him proposed any more 
 severe sentence, he would vote for it. Who can avoid prais- 
 ing such severity as this ? 
 
 VII. Now, since Dolabella has been pronounced a public en- 
 emy, he must be pursued by war. For he himself will not re- 
 main quiet. He has a legion with him ; he has troops of run- 
 away slaves, he has a wicked band of impious men ; he him- 
 self is confident, intemperate, and bent on falling by the death 
 of a gladiator. Wherefore, since, as Dolabella was voted an 
 
 the word tabula. The Latin is, "vindicem enim novarum tabularum no- 
 vam tabularu vidimus ;" nova tabula, meaning, as is well known, a law 
 for the abolition of debts ; nova tabula in the singular, an advertisement 
 of (Trebellius's) property being to be sold. 
 
 1 Here too is a succession of puns. Lysidicus is derived from the 
 Greek Avu>, to loosen, and 61ktj, justice. Cimber is a proper name, and 
 also means one of the nation of the Cimbri ; Germanus is a German, and 
 germanus a brother ; and he means here to impute to Caius Cimber that 
 he had murdered his brother. 
 
450 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 enemy by the decree which was passed yesterday, war must he 
 waged, we must necessarily appoint a general. 
 
 Two opinions have been advanced ; neither of which do T 
 approve. The one, because I always think it dangerous unless 
 it be absolutely necessary; the other, because I think it wholly 
 unsuited to the emergency. For an extraordinary commission 
 is a measure suited rather to the fickle character of the mob ; 
 one which does not at all become our dignity or this assembly. 
 In the war against Antiochus, a great and important war, 
 when Asia had fallen by lot to Lucius Scipio as his province, 
 and when he was thought to have hardly spirit and hardly 
 visor enough for it ; and when the senate was inclined to 
 intrust the business to his colleague Caius Laelius, the father 
 of this Lselius, who was surnamed the Wise ; Publius Africa- 
 nus, the elder brother of Lucius Scipio, rose up, and entreated 
 them not to cast such a slur on his family, and said that in his 
 brother there was united the greatest possible valor, with the 
 most consummate prudence ; and that he too, notwithstand- 
 ing his age, and all the exploits which he had performed, 
 would attend his brother as his lieutenant. And after he had 
 said this, nothing was changed in respect to Scipio' s province; 
 nor was any extraordinary command sought for any more in 
 that war than in those two terrible Punic wars which had pre^ 
 ceded it, which were carried on and conducted to their termi- 
 nation either by the consuls or by dictators ; or than in the 
 war with Pyrrhus, or in that with Philippus, or afterward in 
 the Achaean war, or in the third Punic war ; for which last 
 the Roman people took great care to select a suitable general, 
 Publius Scipio, but at the same time it appointed him to the 
 consulship in order to conduct it. 
 
 VIII. War was to be waged against Aristonicus in the con- 
 sulship of Publius Licinius and Lucius Valerius. The people 
 was consulted as to whom it wished to have the management 
 of that war. Crassus, the consul and Pontiiex Maxim ub, 
 threatened to impose a fine upon Flaccus his colleague, the 
 priest of Mars, if he deserted the sacrifices. And though the 
 people remitted the fine, still they ordered the priest to submit 
 to the commands of the pontiff. But even then the Roman 
 people did not commit the management of the war to a pri- 
 vate individual; although there was Africanus, who the year 
 before had celebrated a triumph over the people of Numan- 
 tia; and who was far superior to all men in martial renown 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 451 
 
 and military skill; yet he only gained the votes of two trib- 
 unes. And accordingly the Roman people intrusted the man- 
 agement of the war to Crassus the consul rather than to the 
 private individual Africanus. As to the commands given to 
 Cnseus Pompeius, that most illustrious man, that first of men, 
 they were carried by some turbulent tribunes of the people. 
 For the war against Sertorius was only given by the senate to 
 a private individual because the consuls refused it ; when Lu- 
 cius Philippus said that he sent the general in the place of 
 the two consuls, not as proconsul. 
 
 What then is the object of these comitia? or what is the 
 meaning of this canvassing which that most wise and dig- 
 nified citizen, Lucius Caesar, has introduced into the senate? 
 He has proposed to vote a military command to one who is 
 certainly a most illustrious and unimpeachable man, but still 
 only a private individual. And by doing so he has imposed 
 a heavy burden upon us. Suppose I agree ; shall I by so 
 doing countenance the introduction of the practice of can- 
 vassing into the senate-house % Suppose I vote against, it ; 
 shall I appear as if I were in the comitia to have refused an 
 honor to a man who is one of my greatest friends ? But if 
 we are to have the comitia in the senate, let us ask for votes, 
 let us canvass ; let a voting-tablet be given us, just as one is 
 given to the people. Why do you, O Caesar, allow it to be so 
 managed that either a most illustrious man, if your proposi- 
 tion be not agreed to, shall appear to have received a repulse, 
 or else that one of us shall appear to have been passed over, 
 if, while we were men of equal dignity, we are not considered 
 worthy of equal honor 1 
 
 But (for this is what I hear is said), I myself gave by my 
 own vote an extraordinary commission to Caius Caesar; Ay, 
 indeed, for he had given me extraordinary protection ; when I 
 say me, I mean he had given it to the senate and to the Ro- 
 man people. Was I to refuse giving an extraordinary military 
 command to that man from whom the republic had received 
 protection which had never even been thought of, but that 
 still was of so much consequence that without it she could 
 not have been safe ? There were only the alternatives of 
 taking his army from him, or giving him such a command. 
 For on what principle or by what means can an army be 
 retained by a man who has not been invested with any mili- 
 tary command? We must not, therefore, think that a thing 
 
45'2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 has been given to a man which has, in fact, not been taken 
 away from him. You would, O conscript fathers, have taken 
 a command away from Caius Caesar, if you had not given 
 him one. The veteran soldiers, who, following his authority 
 and command and name, had taken up arms in the cause of 
 the republic, desired to be commanded by him. The Martial 
 legion and the fourth legion had submitted to the authority 
 of the senate, and had devoted themselves to uphold the dig- 
 nity of the republic, in such a way as to feel that they had 
 a right to demand Gaius Caesar for their commander. It was 
 the necessitv of the war that invested Caius Caesar with mill- 
 tary command ; the senate only gave him the ensigns of it. 
 But I beg you to tell me, O Lucius Caesar, — I am aware that 
 I am arguing with a man of the greatest experience, — when 
 did the senate ever confer a military command on a private in- 
 dividual who was in a state of inactivity, and doing nothing % 
 IX. However, I have been speaking hitherto to avoid the 
 appearance of gratuitously opposing a man who is a great 
 friend of mine, and who has showed me great kindness. Al- 
 though, can one deny a thing to a person who not only does 
 not ask for it, but who even refuses it ! But, O conscript 
 fathers, that proposition is unsuited to the dignity of the con- 
 suls, unsuited to the critical character of the times : namely, 
 the proposition that the consuls, for the sake of pursuing Dol- 
 abella, shall have the provinces of Asia and Syria allotted to 
 them. I will explain why it is inexpedient for the republic ; 
 but first of all, consider what ignominy it fixes on the consuls. 
 When a consul elect is being besieged, when the safety of the 
 republic depends upon his liberation, when mischievous and 
 parricidal citizens have revolted from the republic, and when 
 we are carrying on a war in which we are fighting for our 
 dignity, for our freedom, and for our lives ; and when, if any 
 one falls into the power of Antonius, tortures and torments 
 are prepared for him ; and when the struggle for all these ob- 
 jects has been committed and intrusted to our most admirable 
 and gallant consuls, — shall any mention be made of Asia and 
 Syria, so that we may appear to have given any injurious 
 cause for others to entertain suspicion of us, or to bring us 
 into unpopularity? They do indeed propose it, "after hav- 
 ing liberated Brutus," — for those were the last words of the 
 proposal ; say rather, after having deserted, abandoned, and 
 betrayed him. 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 453 
 
 But I say that any mention whatever of any provinces has 
 been made at a most unseasonable time. For although your 
 mind, O Caius Pansa, be ever so intent, as indeed it is, on 
 effecting the liberation of the most brave and illustrious of all 
 men, still the nature of things would compel you inevitably 
 sometimes to turn your thoughts to the idea of pursuing An- 
 lonius, and to divert some portion of your care and attention 
 to Asia and Syria. But if it were possible, I could wish you 
 to have more minds than one, and yet to direct them all upon 
 Mutina. But since that is impossible, I do wish you, with 
 that most virtuous and all-accomplished mind which you have 
 got, to think of nothing but Brutus. And' that, indeed, is 
 what you are doing ; that is what you are especially striving 
 at ; but still no man can, I will not say do two things, espe- 
 cially two most important things, at one time, but he can not 
 even do entire justice to them both in his thoughts. It is our 
 duty rather to spur on and inflame that excellent eagerness of 
 yours, and not to transfer any portion of it to another object 
 of care in a different direction. 
 
 X. Add to these considerations the way men talk, the way /"" 
 in which they nourish suspicion, the way in which they take 
 dislikes. Imitate me whom you have always praised ; for I 
 rejected a province fully appointed and provided by the sen- 
 ate, for the purpose of discarding all other thoughts, and de- 
 voting all my efforts to extinguishing the conflagration that 
 threatened to consume my country. There was no one except 
 me alone, to whom, indeed, you would, in consideration of 
 our intimacy, have been sure to communicate any thing which 
 concerned your interests, who would believe that the province 
 had been decreed to you against your will. I entreat you, 
 check, as is due to your eminent wisdom, this report, and do 
 not seem to be desirous of that which you do not in reality 
 care about. And you should take the more care of this point, 
 because your colleague, a most illustrious man, can not fall 
 under the same suspicion. He knows nothing of all that is 
 going on here ; he suspects nothing ; he is conducting the 
 war; he is standing in battle array; he is fighting for his 
 blood and for his life ; he will hear of the province being de- 
 creed to him before he could imagine that there had been time 
 for such a proceeding. I am afraid that our armies too, 
 which have devoted themselves to the republic, not from any 
 compulsory lew. but of their own voluntarv zeal, will be 
 
454 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 checked in their ardor, if they suppose that we are thinking 
 of any thing but instant war. 
 
 But if provinces appear to the consuls as things to be de- 
 sired, as they often have been desired by many illustrious men ; 
 first restore us Brutus, the light and glory of the state ; whom 
 we ought to preserve like that statue which fell from heaven, 
 and is guarded by the protection of Vesta : which, as long as 
 it is safe, insures our safety also. Then we will raise you, if 
 it be possible, even to heaven on our shoulders ; unquestiona- 
 bly we will select for you the most worthy provinces. But at 
 present let us apply ourselves to the business before us. And 
 the question is, whether we will live as freemen, or die ; for 
 death is certainly to be preferred to slavery. What more need 
 1 say ? Suppose that proposition causes delay in the pursuit 
 of Dolabella 1 ? For when will the consul arrive? Are we 
 waitino- till there is not even a vestige of the towns and cities 
 of Asia left ! " But they will send some one of their officers." 
 — That will certainly be a step that I shall quite approve of; 
 I who just now objected to giving any extraordinary military 
 command to ever so illustrious a man if he were only a private 
 individual. "But they will send a man worthy of such a 
 charge." Will they send one more worthy than Publius Ser- 
 vilius 1 ? But the city has not such a man. What then he 
 himself thinks ought to be given to no one, not even by the 
 senate, can I approve of that being conferred by the decision 
 of one man? We have need, O conscript fathers, of a man 
 ready and prepared, and of one who has a military command 
 legally conferred on him ; and of one who, besides this, has 
 authority, and a name, and an army, and a courage which 
 has been already tried in his exertions for the deliverance of 
 the republic. 
 
 XL Who then is that man? Either Marcus Brutus, or 
 Caius Cassius, or both of them. I would vote in plain words, 
 as there are many precedents for, one consul or both, if we 
 had not already hampered Brutus sufficiently in Greece, and 
 if we had not preferred having his reinforcement approach 
 nearer to Italy rather than move farther off toward Asia; 
 not so much in order to receive succor ourselves from that 
 army, as to enable that army to receive aid across the water. 
 Besides, O conscript fathers, even now Caius Antonius is de- 
 taining Marcus Brutus, for lie occupies Apollonia, a large and 
 important city; he occupies, as I believe, Byllis ; lie occupies 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 455 
 
 Amantia ; he is threatening Epirus ; he is pressing on IUyri- 
 cum ; he has with him several cohorts, and he has cavalry. 
 If Brutus be transferred from this district to any other war, 
 we shall at all events lose Greece. We must also provide for 
 the safety of Brundusium and all that coast of Italy. Al- 
 though I marvel that Antonius delays so long; for he is ac- 
 customed usually to put on his marching dress, and not to 
 endure the fear of a siege for any length of time. But if 
 Brutus has finished that business, and perceives that he can 
 better serve the republic by pursuing Dolabella than by re- 
 maining in Greece, he will act of his own head, as he has hith- 
 erto done ; nor amid such a general conflagration will he wait 
 for the orders of the senate when instant help is required. 
 For both Brutus and Cassius have in many instances been a 
 senate to themselves. For it is quite inevitable that in such 
 a confusion and disturbance of all things men should be guided 
 by the present emergency rather than by precedent. Nor will 
 this be the first time that either Brutus or Cassius has con- 
 sidered the safety and deliverance of his country his most holy 
 law and his most excellent precedent. Therefore, if there 
 were no motion submitted to us about the pursuit of Dola- 
 bella, still I should consider it equivalent to a decree, when 
 there were men of such a character for virtue, authority, and 
 the greatest nobleness, possessing armies, one of which is 
 already known to us, and the other has been abundantly 
 heard of. 
 
 XII. Brutus then, you may be sure, has not waited for our 
 decrees, as he was sure of our desires. For he is not gone to 
 his own province of Crete ; he has flown to Macedonia, which 
 belonged to another; he has accounted every thing his own 
 which you have wished to be yours; he has enlisted new le- 
 gions ; he has received old ones ; he has gained over to his 
 own standard the cavalry of Dolabella, and, even before that 
 man was polluted with such enormous parricide, he, of his 
 own head, pronounced him his enemy. For if he were not 
 one, by what right could he himself have tempted the cavalry 
 to abandon the consul % What more need I say? Did not 
 Caius Cassius, a man endowed with equal greatness of mind 
 and with equal wisdom, depart from Italy with the deliberate 
 object of preventing Dolabella from obtaining possession of 
 Syria? By what law? By what right? By that which 
 Jupiter himself has sanctioned, that every thing which was 
 
456 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 advantageous to the republic should be considered legal and 
 just. 
 
 For law is nothing but a correct principle drawn from the 
 inspiration of the gods, commanding what is honest, and for- 
 bidding the contrary. Cassius, therefore, obeyed this law 
 when he went into Syria ; a province which belonged to an- 
 other, if men were to abide by the written laws ; but which, 
 when these were trampled under foot, was his by the law of 
 nature. But in order that they may be sanctioned by your 
 authority also, I now give my vote, that, 
 
 " As Publius Dolabella, and those who have been the min- 
 isters of and accomplices and assistants in his cruel and in- 
 famous crime, have been pronounced enemies of the Roman 
 people by the senate, and as the senate has voted that Publius 
 Dolabella shall be pursued with war, in order that he who has 
 violated all laws of men and gods by a new and unheard-of 
 and inexpiable wickedness, and has committed the most in- 
 famous treason against his country, may suffer the punish- 
 ment which is his due, and which he has well deserved at the 
 hands of gods and men ; the senate decrees that Caius Cassius, 
 proconsul, shall have the government of Syria as one appoint- 
 ed to that province with all due form ; and that he shall re- 
 ceive their armies from Quintus Marcius Crispus, proconsul, 
 from Lucius Statius Murcus, proconsul, from Aulus Allienus, 
 lieutenant, and that they shall deliver them up to him ; and 
 that he, with these troops and with any more which he may 
 have got from other quarters, shall pursue Dolabella with war 
 both by sea and land ; that, for the sake of carrying on war, 
 he shall have authority and power to buy ships, and sailors, 
 and money, and whatever else may be necessary or useful for 
 the carrying on of the war, in whatever places it seems fitting 
 to him to do so, throughout Syria. Asia, Bithynia, and Pon- 
 tus ; and that, in whatever province he shall arrive for the 
 purpose of carrying on that war, in that province as soon as 
 Caius Cassius, proconsul, shall arrive in it, the power of Caius 
 Cassius, proconsul, shall be superior to that of him who may 
 be the regular governor of the province at the time. That 
 king Deiotarus the father, and also king Deiotarus the son, 
 if they assist Caius Cassius, proconsul, with their armies and 
 treasures, as they have heretofore often assisted the generals 
 of the Roman people, will do a thing which will be grateful 
 fco the senate and people of Pome ; and that also, if the rest 
 
THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 457 
 
 of the kings and tetrarchs and governors in those districts do 
 the same, the senate and people of Rome will not be forgetful 
 of their loyalty and kindness ; and that Caius Pansa and Au- 
 lus Hirtius the consuls, one or both of them, as it seems good 
 to them, as soon as they have re-established the republic, shall 
 at the earliest opportunity submit a motion to this order about 
 the consular and praetorian provinces ; and that, in the mean 
 time, the provinces should continue to be governed by those 
 officers by whom they are governed at present, until a suc- 
 cessor be appointed to each by a resolution of the senate." 
 
 XLTL By this resolution of the senate you will inflame the 
 existing ardor of Cassius, and you will give him additional 
 arms ; for you can not be ignorant of his disposition, or of the 
 resources which he has at present. His disposition is such as 
 you see; his resources, which you have heard stated to you, 
 are those of a gallant and resolute man, who, even while Tre- 
 bonius was alive, would not permit the piratical crew of Dola- 
 bella to penetrate into Syria. Allienus, my intimate friend 
 and connection, who went thither after the death of Trebo- 
 nius, will not permit himself to be called the lieutenant of 
 Dolabella. The army of Quintus Cascilius Bassns, a man in- 
 deed without any regular appointment, but a brave and emi- 
 nent man, is vigorous and victorious. The army of Deiotarus 
 the king, both father and son, is very numerous, and equipped 
 in our fashion. Moreover, in the son there is the greatest 
 hope, the greatest vigor of genius and a good disposition, and 
 the most eminent valor. "Why need I speak of the father? 
 whose good-will toward the Roman people is coeval with his 
 life ; who has not only been the ally of our commanders in 
 their wars, but has also served himself as the general of his 
 own troops. What great things have Sylla, and Murena, 
 and Servilius, and Lucullus said of that man ; what compli- 
 mentary, what honorable and dignified mention have they often 
 made of him in the senate ! Why should I speak of Cnasus 
 Pompeius ? who considered Deiotarus the only friend and real 
 well-wisher from his heart, the only really loyal man to the 
 Roman people in the whole world % We were generals, Mar- 
 cus Bibulus and I, in neighboring provinces bordering on his 
 kingdom ; and we were assisted by that same monarch both 
 with cavalry and infantry. Then followed this most misera- 
 ble and disastrous civil war ; in which I need not say what 
 Deiotarus ought to have done, or what would have been the 
 
 U 
 
458 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 most proper course which he could have adopted, especially 
 as victory decided for the party opposed to the wishes of Deio- 
 tarus. And if ir- that war he committed any error, he did sc 
 in common with the senate. If his judgment was the right 
 one, then even though defeated it does not deserve to be blamed. 
 To these resources other kings and other levies of troops will 
 be added. Nor will fleets be wanting to us ; so greatly do the 
 Tynans esteem Cassius, so mighty is his name in Syria and 
 Phoenicia. 
 
 XIV. The republic, O conscript fathers, has a general ready 
 against Dolabella, in Caius Cassius, and not ready only, but 
 also skillful and brave. He performed great exploits before 
 the arrival of Bibulus, a most illustrious man, when he de- 
 feated the most eminent generals of the Parthians and their 
 innumerable armies, and delivered Syria from their most for- 
 midable invasion. I pass over his greatest and most extraor- 
 dinary glory ; for as the mention of it is not yet acceptable to 
 every one, we had better preserve it in our recollection than 
 by bearing testimony to it with our voice. 
 
 I have noticed, O conscript fathers, that some people have 
 said before now, that even Brutus is too much extolled by me, 
 that Cassius is too much extolled ; and that by this proposi- 
 tion of mine absolute power and quite a principality is con- 
 ferred upon Cassius. Whom do I extol 1 ? Those who are 
 themselves the glory of the republic. What ? have I not at 
 all times extolled Decimus Brutus whenever I have delivered 
 my opinion at all? Do you then find fault with me? or 
 should I rather praise the Antonii, the disgrace and infamy 
 not only of their own families, but of the Roman name ? or 
 should I speak in favor of Censorinus, an enemy in time of 
 war, an assassin in time of peace ? or should I collect all the 
 other ruined men of that band of robbers ? But I am so far 
 from extolling those enemies of tranquillity, of concord, of the 
 laws, of the courts of justice, and of liberty, that I can not 
 avoid hating them as much as I love the republic. "Beware," 
 says one, "how you offend the veterans." For this is what I 
 am most constantly told. But I certainly ought to protect 
 the rights of the veterans; of those at least who are well dis- 
 posed; but surely I ought not to fear them. And those vet- 
 erans who have taken up arms in the cause of the republic, 
 ami have followed Caius Caesar, remembering the kindnesses 
 which they received from his father, and who at this day aiy 
 

 THE ELEVENTH PHILIPPIC. 459 
 
 i 
 
 defending the republic to their own great personal danger, — 
 those I ought not only to defend, but to seek to procure addi- 
 tional advantages for them. But those also who remain quiet, 
 such as the sixth and eighth legion, I consider worthy of great 
 glory and praise. But as for those companions of Antonius, 
 who after they have devoured the benefits of Caesar, besiege 
 the consul elect, threaten this city with fire and sword, and 
 have given themselves up to Saxa and Capho, men born for 
 crime and plunder, who is there who thinks that those men 
 ought to be defended 1 Therefore the veterans are either good 
 men, whom we ought to load with distinctions ; or quiet men, 
 whom we ought to preserve ; or impious ones, against whose 
 phrensy we have declared war and taken up legitimate arms. 
 
 XV. Who then are the veterans whom we are to be fearful 
 of offending? Those who are desirous to deliver Decimus 
 Brutus from siege? for how can those men, to whom the safe- 
 ty of Brutus is dear, hate the name of Cassius? Or those 
 men who abstain from taking arms on either side ? I have 
 no fear of any of those men who delight in tranquillity becom- 
 ing a mischievous citizen. But as for the third class, whom 
 I call not veteran soldiers, but infamous enemies, I wish to 
 inflict on them the most bitter pain. Although, O conscript 
 fathers, how long are we to deliver our opinions as it may 
 please the veterans ! why are we to yield so much to their 
 haughtiness ! why are we to make their arrogance of such im- 
 portance as to choose our generals with reference to their 
 pleasure ? But I (for I must speak, O conscript fathers, what 
 I feel) think that we ought not so much to regard the veter- 
 ans, as to look at what the young soldiers, the flower of Italy 
 — at what the new legions, most eager to effect the deliver- 
 ance of their country — at what all Italy will think of your 
 wisdom. For there is nothing which flourishes forever. Age 
 succeeds age. The legions of Caesar have flourished for a long 
 time ; but now those who are flourishing are the legions of 
 Pansa, and the legions of Hirtius, and the legions of the son 
 of Casar, and the legions of Plancus. They surpass the vet- 
 erans in number ; they have the advantage of youth ; more- 
 over, they surpass them also in authority. For they are en- 
 gaged in waging that war which is approved of by all nations. 
 Therefore, rewards have been promised to these latter. To 
 the former they have been already paid ; — let them enjoy 
 them. But let these others have those rewards given to them 
 
400 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 which we have promised them. For that is what I hope that 
 the immortal gods will consider just. 
 
 And as this is the case, I give my vote for the proposition 
 which I have made to you, O conscript fathers, being adopted 
 by you. 
 
 THE TWELFTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST MAR- 
 CUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Decimus Brutus was in such distress in Mutina, that his friends began 
 to be alarmed, fearing that, if he fell into the hands of Antonius, he 
 would be treated as Trebonius had been. And, as the friends of An- 
 tonius gave out that he was now more inclined to come to terms with 
 the senate, a proposition was made and supported by Pansa, to send a 
 second embassy to him. And even Cicero at first consented to it, and 
 allowed himself to be nominated with Servilius and throe other senators, 
 all of consular rank ; but on more mature reflection he was convinced 
 that he had been guilty of a blunder, and that the object of Antonius 
 and his friends was only to gain time for Ventidius to join him with 
 his three legions. Accordingly, at the next meeting of the senate, he 
 delivered the following speech, retracting his former sanction of the 
 proposed embassy. And he spoke so strongly against it, that the meas- 
 ure was abandoned, and Pansa soon afterward marched with Ins army 
 to join Hirtius and Octavius, with the intention of forcing Antonius 
 to a battle. 
 
 I. Although, O conscript fathers, it seems very unbecom- 
 ing for that man whose counsels you have so often adopted in 
 the most important affairs, to be deceived and deluded, and to 
 commit mistakes ; yet I console myself, since I made the mis- 
 take in company with you, and in company also with a consul 
 of the greatest wisdom. For when two men of consular rank 
 had brought us hope of an honorable peace, they appeared, as 
 being friends and extremely intimate with Marcus Antonius, 
 to be aware of some weak point about him with which we 
 were unacquainted. His wife and children are in the house 
 of one ; the other is known every day to send letters to, to re- 
 ceive letters from, and openly to favor Antonius. 
 
 These men, then, appeared likely to have some reason for 
 exhorting us to peace, which they had done for some time. 
 
THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 461 
 
 The consul, too, added the weight of his exhortation ; and 
 what a consul! If we look for prudence, one who was not 
 easily to be deceived ; if for virtue and courage, one who 
 would never admit of peace unless Antonius submitted and 
 confessed himself to be vanquished ; if for greatness of mind, 
 one who would prefer death to slavery. You, too, O conscript 
 fathers, appeared to be induced to think not of accepting but 
 of imposing conditions, not so much because you were forget- 
 ful of your most important and dignified resolutions, as be- 
 cause you had hopes suggested you of a surrender on the part 
 of Antonius, which his friends preferred to call peace. My 
 own hopes, and I imagine yours also, were increased by the 
 circumstance of my hearing that the family of Antonius was 
 overwhelmed with distress, and that his wife was incessantly 
 lamenting. And in this assembly, too, I saw that the parti- 
 sans, on whose countenance my eyes are always dwelling, 
 looked more sorrowful than usual. And if that is not so, 
 why on a sudden has mention been made of peace by Piso 
 and Calenus of all people in the world, why at this particular 
 moment, why so unexpectedly? Piso declares that he knows 
 nothing, that he has not heard any thing. Calenus declares 
 that no news has been brought. And they make that state- 
 ment now, after they think that we are involved in a pacific 
 embassy. What need have we, then, of any new determina- 
 tion, if no new circumstances have arisen to call for one % 
 II. "We have been deceived, — we have, I say, been deceived, 
 
 conscript fathers. It is the cause of Antonius that has been 
 pleaded by his friends, and not the cause of the public. And 
 
 1 did indeed see that, though through a sort of mist ; the safe- 
 ty of Decimus Brutus had dazzled my eyesight. But if in war, 
 substitutes were in the habit of being given, I would gladly al- 
 low mvself to be hemmed in, so Ions; as Decimus Brutus might 
 be released. But we were caught by this expression of Quin- 
 tus Fufius ; " Shall we not listen to Antonius, even if he re- 
 tires from Mutinal Shall we not, even if he declares that he 
 will submit himself to the authority of the senate ?" It seem- 
 ed harsh to say that. Thus it was that we were broken ; we 
 yielded. Does he then retire from Mutina? "I don't know." 
 Is he obeying the senate? "I think so," says Calenus, "but 
 so as to preserve his own dignity at the same time." You 
 then, O conscript fathers, are to make great exertions for the 
 express purpose of losing your own dignity,, which is very 
 
462 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 great, and of preserving that of Antonius, which neither has 
 nor can have any existence ; and of enabling him to recover 
 that by your conduct, which he has lost by his own. " But, 
 however, that matter is not open for consideration now ; an 
 embassy has been appointed." But what is there which is 
 not open for consideration to a wise man, as long as it can be 
 remodeled? Any man is liable to a mistake ; but no one but 
 a downright fool will persist in error. For second thoughts, 
 as people say, are best. The mist which I spoke of just now 
 is dispelled : light has arisen : the case is plain : we see every 
 thing, and that not by our own acuteness, but we are warned 
 by our friends. 
 
 You heard just now what was the statement made by a 
 most admirable man. I found, said he, his house, his wife, 
 his children, all in great distress. Good men marveled at 
 me, my friends blamed me for having been led by the hope 
 of peace to undertake an embassy. And no wonder, O Pub- 
 lius Servilius. For by your own most true and most weighty 
 arguments Antonius was stripped, I do not say of all dignity, 
 but of even every hope of safety. Who would not wonder if 
 you were to go as an embassador to him? I judge by my 
 own case ; for with regard to myself I see how the same de- 
 sign as you conceived is found fault with. And are we the 
 only people blamed ? What 1 did that most gallant man 
 speak so long and so precisely a little while ago without any 
 reason? What was he laboring for, except to remove from 
 himself a groundless suspicion of treachery? And whence 
 did that suspicion arise? From his unexpected advocacy of 
 peace, which he adopted all on a sudden, being taken in by 
 the same error that we were. 
 
 But if an error has been committed, O conscript fathers, 
 owing to a groundless and fallacious hope, let us return into 
 the right road. The best harbor for a penitent is a change 
 of intention. 
 
 III. For what, in the name of the immortal gods I what 
 good can our embassy do to the republic ? What good, do I 
 say? What will you say if it will even do us harm ? Will 
 do us harm? What if it already has done us harm ! Do you 
 suppose that that most energetic and fearless desire shown by 
 the Roman people for recovery of their liberty has been damp- 
 ed and weakened by hearing of this embassy for peace? What 
 do you think the municipal towns feel? and the colonies? 
 
 ? 
 
THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 463 
 
 AHiat do you think will be the feelings of all Italy ? Do you 
 suppose that it will continue to glow with the same zeal with 
 which it burned before to extinguish this common conflagra- 
 tion ? Do we not suppose that those men will repent of hav- 
 ing professed and displayed so much hatred to Antonius, who 
 promised us money and arms ; who devoted themselves wholly, 
 body, heart, and soul, to the safety of the republic? How will 
 Capua, which at the present time feels like a second Rome, 
 approve of this design of yours? That city pronounced them 
 impious citizens, cast them out, and kept them out. Anto- 
 nius was barely saved from the hands of that city, which made 
 a most gallant attempt to crush him. Need I say more? Are 
 we not by these proceedings cutting the sinews of our own le- 
 gions ; for what man can engage with ardor in a war, when 
 the hope of peace is suggested to him 1 Even that godlike 
 and divine Martial legion will grow languid at and be cowed 
 by the receipt of this news, and will lose that most noble title 
 of Martial ; their swords will fall to the ground ; their weap- 
 ons will drop from their hands. For, following the senate, it 
 will not consider itself bound to feel more bitter hatred against 
 Antonius than the senate. 
 
 I am ashamed for this legion, I am ashamed for the fourth 
 legion, which, approving of our authority with equal virtue, 
 abandoned Antonius, not looking upon him as their consul 
 and general, but as an enemy and attacker of their country. 
 I am ashamed for that admirable army which is made up of 
 two armies; which has now been reviewed, and which has 
 started for Mutina, and which, if it hears a w r ord of peace, 
 that is to say, of our fear, even if it does not return, will at 
 all events halt. For who, when the senate recalls him and 
 sounds a retreat, will be eager to engage in battle ? l 
 
 TV. For what can be more unreasonable than for us to 
 pass resolutions about peace without the knowledge of those 
 men who wage the war? And not only without their knowl- 
 edge, but even against their will ? Do you think that Aulus 
 Hirtius, that most illustrious consul, and that Caius Caesar, a 
 man born by the especial kindness of the gods for this especial 
 crisis, whose letters, announcing their hope of victory, I hold 
 in my hand, are desirous of peace ? They are anxious to 
 conquer ; and they wish to obtain that most delightful and 
 
 1 Compare St. Paul, — " For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, 
 who shall prepare himself to the battle 1" 1 Cor. xiv. 8. 
 
464 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 i. 
 beautiful condition of peace, as the consequence of victory, 
 not of some agreement. What more? With what feelings 
 do you think that Gaul will hear of this proceeding? For 
 that province performs the chief part in repelling, and man- 
 aging, and supporting this war. Gaul, following the mere 
 nod, for I need not say the command of Decimus Brutus, has 
 strengthened the beginning of the war with her arms, her 
 men, and her treasures: she has exposed the whole of her 
 body to the cruelty of Marcus Antonius : she is drained, laid 
 waste, attacked with fire and sword. She is enduring all the 
 injuries of war with equanimity, contented as long as she can 
 ward off the danger of slavery. And, to say nothing of the 
 other parts of Gaul (for they are all alike), the people of Pa- 
 tavium have excluded some men who were sent to them by 
 Antonius, and have driven out others, and have assisted our 
 generals with money and soldiers, and with what was above 
 all things wanting, arms. The rest have done the same ; even 
 those who formerly were of the party of Antonius, and who 
 were believed to have been alienated from the senate by the 
 injuries of many years. Men, who indeed there is no great 
 reason to wonder at being faithful noAv, after the freedom of 
 the republic has been shared with them, when, even before 
 they had been admitted to those privileges, they always be- 
 haved with loyalty and good faith. 
 
 Y. All these men, then, who are now sanguine of victory, 
 we are to meet with the name of peace ; that is to say, with a 
 complete despair of victory. 
 
 What more 1 What if it is even absolutely impossible for 
 there to be any real peace at all ? For what sort of peace is 
 that in which nothing can be granted to the man with whom 
 one is making peace ? Antonius has been invited to peace by 
 us by many circumstances ; but he has preferred war. Em- 
 bassadors were sent. I opposed it, indeed, but still they were 
 sent. Commands were taken to him : he did not obey them. 
 He was ordered not to besiege Brutus, and to retire from be- 
 fore Mutina. He attacked that town even more vigorously. 
 And shall we send an embassy to treat of peace to a man 
 who lias rejected embassadors of peace? Do we suppose that 
 when we talk to him face to face he will be more moderate in 
 his demands than he was when he sent commands to the sen- 
 ate? But at that time he demanded things which appeared 
 indeed unreasonable, but still such as it might have been pos- 
 
THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 4Go 
 
 sible to concede ; he had not at that time been branded by 
 such heavy and such numerous decisions and condemnations 
 of yours. At present he is demanding things which we can 
 not by any possibility grant, unless we are willing first to con- 
 fess ourselves defeated in war. 
 
 We have pronounced that resolutions of the senate which 
 have been produced by him are forged. Can we now pro- 
 nounce them genuine ? We have declared that laws have 
 been carried by him by means of violence, and in a manner 
 contrary to the auspices, and that neither the burgesses nor 
 the common people are bound by them. Do you consider it 
 possible that those laws should be re-established ? You have 
 judicially decided that Antonius has embezzled seven hundred 
 millions of sesterces of the public money. Can he now be re- 
 leased from the charge of peculation? Exemptions, grants of 
 the freedom of the city, priesthoods, kingdoms have been sold 
 by him. Can those tablets again be put up which you took 
 down by your decrees"? 
 
 VI. But if we can rescind those decrees which we have 
 passed, can we also efface the memory of the facts? For 
 where will any posterity forget to whose wickedness it was 
 owing that we have been arrayed in these unseemly garments'? 
 Although the blood of the centurions of the Martial legion 
 shed at Brundusium be washed out. can the notoriety of that 
 inhuman act be washed out too ? To pass over things which 
 happened in the interval, what lapse of time will ever efface 
 the foul memorials of his military works around Mutina, 
 the tokens of his wickedness, the traces of his piratical 
 conduct ? 
 
 What then, in the name of the immortal gods! have we 
 which we can grant in the way of concession to this polluted 
 and impious parricide ? Are we to yield up to him the far- 
 ther Gaul, and an army? This is not making peace, but only 
 deferring war. Indeed, it is not only prolonging the war, but 
 even conceding the victory. Is it not a victory for him to 
 enter this city with his troops, on any conditions whatever ? 
 At present we are masters of every thing by our arms ; we 
 are of great influence from the authority of this order ; num- 
 bers of desperate citizens are absent, following their infamous 
 leader; and still we can not bear the countenances or support 
 the language of those men who are left behind in the city out 
 of their number. What do you think will be the result when 
 
 U2 
 
466 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 such numbers force their way into the city at one time ? when 
 we have laid aside our arms, and they have not laid aside 
 theirs 1 ? Must we not be defeated for everlasting, in conse- 
 quence of our own counsels? 
 
 Place before your eyes Marcus Antoni us, as a man of con- 
 sular rank ; add to him Lucius, hoping to obtain the consul- 
 ship ; join to them all the rest, and those too not confined to 
 our order, who are fixing their thoughts on honors and com- 
 mands. Do not despise the Tiros, and the Numisii, or the 
 Mustellre, or the Seii. A peace made with those men will not 
 be peace, but a covenant of slavery. That was an admirable 
 expression of Lucius Piso, a most honorable man, and one 
 which has been deservedly praised by you, O Pansa, not only 
 in this order, but also in the assembly of the people. He said, 
 that he would depart from Italy, and leave his household gods 
 and his native home, if (but might the gods avert such a dis- 
 aster!) Antonius overwhelmed the republic. 
 
 VII. I ask, therefore, of you, O Lucius Piso, whether you 
 would not think the republic overwhelmed if so many men of 
 such impiety, of such audacity, and such guilt, were admitted 
 into it? Can you think that men whom we could hardly bear 
 when they were not yet polluted with such parricidal treasons, 
 will be able to be borne by the city now that they are im- 
 mersed in every sort of wickedness"? Believe me, we must 
 either adopt your plan, and retire, depart, embrace a life of 
 indigence and wandering, or else we must offer our throats to 
 those robbers, and perish in our country. What has become, 
 O Caius Pansa, of those noble exhortations of yours, by which 
 the senate was roused, and the Roman people stimulated, not 
 only hearing but also learning from you that there is nothing 
 more disgraceful to a Roman than slavery ? Was it for this 
 that we assumed the garb of war, and took arms, and roused 
 up all the youth all over Italy, in order that, while we had a 
 most flourishing and numerous army, we might send embas- 
 sadors to treat for peace ? If that peace is to be received by 
 others, why do we not wait to be entreated for it? If our 
 embassadors are to beg it, what is it that we are afraid of ? 
 Shall I make one of this embassy, or shall I be mixed up with 
 this design, in which, even if I should dissent from the rest 
 of my colleagues, the Roman people will not know it I The 
 result will be, that if any thing be granted or conceded, it will 
 be my danger if Antonius commits any pffenses, <inco the 
 
THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 467 
 
 power to commit them Avill seem to have been put in his 
 hands by me. 
 
 But even if it had been proper to entertain any idea of 
 peace with the piratical crew of Marcus Antonius, still I was 
 the last person who ought to have been selected to negotiate 
 such a peace. I never voted for sending embassadors. Before 
 the return of the last embassadors I ventured to say, that 
 peace itself, even if they did bring it, ought to be repudiated, 
 since war would be concealed under the name of peace ; I was 
 the chief adviser of the adoption of the garb of war ; I have 
 invariably called that man a public enemy, when others have 
 been calling him only an adversary ; I have always pronounced 
 this to be a war, while others have styled it only a tumult. 
 Nor have I done this in the senate alone ; I have always acted 
 in the same way before the people. Nor have I spoken against 
 himself only, but also against the accomplices in and agents of 
 his crimes, whether present here, or there with him. In short, 
 I have at all times inveighed against the whole family and 
 party of Antonius. Therefore, as those impious citizens began 
 to congratulate one another the moment the hope of peace 
 was presented to them, as if they had gained the victory, so also 
 they abused me as unjust: they made complaints against me; 
 they distrusted Servilius also ; they recollected that Antonius 
 had been damaged by his avowed opinions and propositions ; 
 they recollected that Lucius Cassar, though a brave and con- 
 sistent senator, is still his uncle ; that Calenus is his agent ; 
 that Piso is his intimate friend ; they think that you yourself, 
 O Pansa, though a most vigorous and fearless consul, are now 
 become more mercifully inclined. Not that it really is so, or 
 that it possibly can be so. But the fact of a mention of peace 
 having been made by you, has given rise to a suspicion in the 
 hearts of many, that you have changed your mind a little. 
 The friends of Antonius are annoyed at my being included 
 among these persons ; and we must no doubt yield to them, 
 since we have once begun to be liberal. 
 
 VIII. Let the embassadors go, with all our good wishes ; 
 but let those men go at whom Antonius may take no offense. 
 But if you are not anxious about what he may think, at all 
 events, O conscript fathers, you ought to have some regard for 
 me. At least spare my eyes, and make some allowance for a 
 just indignation. For with what countenance shall I be able 
 to behold (I do not say, the enemy of my country, for my ha- 
 
468 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tred of him on that score I feel in common with you all), but 
 how shall I bear to look upon that man who is my own most 
 bitter personal enemy, as his most furious harangues against 
 me plainly declare him ? Do you think that I am so complete- 
 ly made of iron as to be able unmoved to meet him, or look at 
 him? who lately, when in an assembly of the people he was 
 making presents to those men who appeared to him the most 
 audacious of his band of parricidal traitors, said that he gave 
 my property to Petissius of Urbinum, a man who, after the 
 shipwreck of a very splendid patrimony, was dashed against 
 these rocks of Antonius. Shall I be able to bear the sight of 
 Lucius Antonius ? a man from whose cruelty I could not have 
 escaped if I had not defended myself behind the walls and gates 
 and by the zeal of my own municipal town. And this same 
 Asiatic gladiator, this plunderer of Italy, this colleague of 
 Lenti and Nucula, when he was giving some pieces of gold to 
 Aquila the centurion, said that he was giving him some of 
 my property. For, if he had said he was giving him some of 
 his own, he thought that the eagle itself would not have be- 
 lieved it. My eyes can not — my eyes, I say, will not bear the 
 sight of Saxa, or Capho, or the two praetors, or the tribune of 
 the people, or the two tribunes elect, or Bestia, or Trebellius, 
 or Titus Plancus. I can not look with equanimity on so 
 many, and those such foul, such wicked enemies ; nor is that 
 feeling caused by any fastidiousness of mine, but by my affec- 
 tion for the republic. But I will subdue my feelings, and keep 
 my own inclinations under restraint. If I can not eradicate 
 my most just indignation, I will conceal it. What ? Do you 
 not think, O conscript fathers, that I should have some regard 
 for my own life ? But that indeed has never been an object of 
 much concern to me, especially since Dolabella has acted in 
 such a way that death is a desirable thing, provided it come with- 
 out torments and tortures. But in your eyes and in those of the 
 Roman people my life ought not to appear of no consequence. 
 Fori am a man, — unless indeed I am deceived in my estimate 
 of myself, — who by my vigilance, and anxiety, by the (pinions 
 which I have delivered, and by the dangers too of which 1 have 
 encountered great numbers, by reason of the mcsl bitter hatred 
 which all impious icon bear me, have at least (not to seem to 
 say any thing too boastful) conducted myself so as 10 be no 
 injury to the republic. And as this is the case, do you thrak 
 that I ought to have no consideration for my own danger > 
 

 THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 469 
 
 IX. Even here, when I was in the city and at home, nev- 
 ertheless many attempts were made against me, in a place 
 where I have not only the fidelity of my friends but the eyes 
 also of the entire city to guard me. "What do you think will 
 be the case when I have gone on a journey, and that too a 
 long one I Do you think that I shall have no occasion to 
 fear plots then ? There are three roads to Mutina ; a place 
 which my mind longs to see, in order that I may behold as 
 speedily as possible that pledge of freedom of the Roman 
 people Decimus Brutus ; in whose embrace I would willingly 
 yield up my parting breath, when all my actions for the last 
 many months, and all my opinions and propositions have re- 
 sulted in the end which I proposed to myself. There are, as 
 I have said, three roads ; the Flaminian road, along the Adri- 
 atic ; the Aurelian road, along the Mediterranean coast ; the 
 Midland road, which is called the Cassian. 
 
 Now, take notice, I beg of you, whether my suspicion of 
 danger to myself is at variance with a reasonable conjecture. 
 The Cassian road goes through Etruria. Do we not know 
 then, O Pahsa, over what places the authority of Lenti Cae- 
 sennius, as a septemvir, prevails at present 1 He certainly is 
 not on our side either in mind or bodv. But if he is at home, 
 or not far from home, he is certainly in Etruria ; that is, in 
 my road. "Who, then, will undertake to me that Lenti will 
 be content with exacting one life alone ? Tell me besides, O 
 Pansa, where Ventidius is, — a man to whom I have always 
 been friendly before he became so openly an enemy to the re- 
 public and to all good men. I may avoid the Cassian road, 
 and take the Flaminian. What if, as it is said, Yentidius 
 has arrived at Ancona ? Shall I be able in that case to reach 
 Ariminum in safety 1 The Aurelian road remains ; and here 
 too I shall find a protector ; for on that road are the poses- 
 sions of Publius Clodius. His whole household will come out 
 to meet me ; and will invite me to partake of their hospital- 
 ity, on account of my notorious intimacy with their master? 
 
 X. Shall I then trust myself to those roads — I who lately, 
 on the day of the feast of Terminus, did not dare even to go 
 into the suburbs and return by the same road on the same 
 day? I can scarcely defend myself within the walls of my 
 own house without the protection of my friends ; therefore I 
 remain in the city ; and if I am allowed to do so I w r ill re- 
 main. This is my proper place, this is my beat, this is my 
 
470 CICERO'S ORATIONS* 
 
 post as a sentinel, this is my station as a defender of the city. 
 Let others occupy camps and kingdoms, and engage in the 
 conduct of the war ; let them show the active hatred of the 
 enemy ; we, as we say, and as we have always hitherto done, 
 will, in common with you, defend the city and the affairs of 
 the city. Nor do I shrink from this office ; although I see 
 the Roman people shrink from it for me. No one is less 
 timid than I am ; no one more cautious. The facts speak for 
 themselves. This is the twentieth year that I have been a 
 mark for the attempts of all wicked men ; therefore, they 
 have paid to the republic (not to say to me) the penalty of 
 their wickedness. As yet the republic has preserved me in 
 safety for itself. I am almost afraid to say what I am going 
 to say ; for I know that any accident may happen to a man ; 
 but still, when I was once hemmed in by the united force of 
 many most influential men, I yielded voluntarily, and fell in 
 such a manner as to be able to rise again in the most honor- 
 able manner. 
 
 Can I, then, appear as cautious and as prudent as I ought 
 to be if I commit myself to a journey so full of enemies and 
 dangers to me ? Those men who are concerned in the gov- 
 ernment of the republic ought at their death to leave behind 
 them glory, and not reproaches for their fault, or grounds for 
 blaming their folly. What good man is there who does not 
 mourn for the death of Trebonius? Who is there who does 
 not grieve for the loss of such a citizen and such a man? 
 But there are men who say (hastily indeed, but still they do 
 say so), that he deserves to be grieved for less because he did 
 not take precautions against a desperately wicked man. In 
 truth, a man who professes to be himself a defender of many 
 men, wise men say, ought in the first place to show himself 
 able to protect his own life. I say, that when one is fenced 
 round by the laws and by the fear of justice, a man is not 
 bound to be afraid of every thing, or to take precautions 
 against all imaginable designs ; for who would dare to attack 
 a man in daylight, on a military road, or a man who was well 
 attended, or an illustrious man 1 But these considerations 
 have no bearing on the present time, nor in my case; for not 
 only would a man who offered violence to me have no fear of 
 punishment, but he would even hope to obtain glory and re- 
 wards from those bands of robbers. 
 
 XI. These dangers I. can guard against in the city; *t i* 
 
THE TWELFTH PHILIPPIC. 471 
 
 easy for me to look around and see where I am going out 
 from, whither I am going, what there is on my right hand, 
 and on my left. Shall I be able to do the same on the roads 
 of the Apennines 1 in which, even if there should be no am- 
 bush, as there easily may be, still my mind will be kept in 
 such a state of anxiety as not to be able to attend to the duties 
 of an embassy. But suppose I have escaped all plots against 
 me, and have passed over the Apennines ; still I have to en- 
 counter a meeting and conference with Antonius. What place 
 am I to select ? If it is outside the camp, the rest may look 
 to themselves, — I think that death would come upon me in- 
 stantly. I know the phrensy of the man ; I know his unbridled 
 violence. The ferocity of his manners and the savageness of 
 his nature is not usually softened even by wine. Then, in . 
 flamed by anger and insanity, with his brother Lucius, that 
 foulest of beasts, at his side, he will never keep his sacrilegious 
 and impious hands from me. I can recollect conferences with 
 most bitter enemies, and with citizens in a state of the most 
 bitter disagreement. 
 
 CnaBus Pompeius, the son of Sextus, being consul, in my 
 presence, when I was serving my first campaign in his army, 
 had a conference with Publius Yettius Scato, the general of 
 the Marsians, between the camps. And I recollect that Sex- 
 tus Pompeius, the brother of the consul, a very learned and 
 wise man, came thither from Eome to the conference. And 
 when Scato had saluted him, "What," said he, "am I to call 
 youf — "Call me/' said he, "one who is by inclination a 
 friend, by necessity an enemy." That conference was con- 
 ducted with fairness ; there was no fear, no suspicion ; even 
 their mutual hatred was not great ; for the allies were not 
 6eeking to take our city from us, but to be themselves admit- 
 ted to share the privileges of it. Sylla and Scipio, one at- 
 tended by the flower of the nobility, the other by the allies, 
 had a conference between Cales and Teanum, respecting the 
 authority of the senate, the suffrages of the people, and the 
 privileges of citizenship ; and agreed upon conditions and 
 stipulations. Good faith was not strictly observed at that 
 conference ; but still there was no violence used, and no dan- 
 ger incurred. 
 
 XII. But can we be equally safe among Antonius's pirat- 
 ical crew ? We can not ; or, even if the rest can, I do not 
 believe that I can. W T hat will be the case if we are not to 
 
 
^72 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 confer out of the camp ! What camp is to be chosen for the 
 conference 1 He will never come into our camp ; — much less 
 will we go to his. It follows then, that all demands must be 
 received and sent to and fro by means of letters. We then 
 shall be in our respective camps. On all his demands I shall 
 have but one opinion ; and when I have stated it here, in your 
 hearing, you may think that I have gone, and that I have 
 come back again. — I shall have finished my embassy. As 
 far as my sentiments can prevail I shall refer every demana 
 which Antonius makes to the senate. For, indeed, we havb 
 no power to do otherwise ; nor have we received any com- 
 mission from this assembly, such as, when a war is termim 
 ated, is usually, in accordance with the precedents of youi 
 ancestors, intrusted to the embassadors. Nor, in fact, have 
 we received any particular commission from the senate at all. 
 
 And, as I shall pursue this line of conduct in the council, 
 where some, as I imagine, will oppose it, have I not reason to 
 fear that the ignorant mob may think that peace is delayed 
 by my means'? Suppose now that the new legions do not 
 disapprove of my resolution. For I am quite sure that the 
 Martial legion and the fourth legion will not approve of any 
 thing which is contrary to dignity and honor. What then ? 
 have we no regard for the opinion of the veterans ? For evep 
 they themselves do not wish to be feared by us. — Still, how 
 will they receive my severity? For they have heard many 
 false statements concerning me ; wicked men have circulated 
 among them many calumnies against me. Their advantage 
 indeed, as you all are most perfect witnesses of, I have always 
 promoted by my opinion, by my authority, and by my lan- 
 guage. But they believe wicked men, they believe seditious 
 men, they believe their own party. They are, indeed, brave 
 men ; but by reason of their exploits which they have per- 
 formed in the cause of the freedom of the Roman people and 
 of the safety of the republic, they are too ferocious and too 
 much inclined to brin<>; all our counsels under the swav of 
 their own violence. Their deliberate reflection I am not afraid 
 of, but I confess 1 dread their impetuosity. 
 
 If I escape all these great dangers too, do you think my re- 
 turn will be completely safe? For when I have, according to 
 my usual custom, defended your authority, and have proved 
 my good faith toward the republic, and my firmness; then I 
 shall have to fear, not those men alone who hate me, but those 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 473 
 
 also who envy me. Let my life then be preserved for the 
 republic, let it be kept for the service of my country as long 
 as my dignity or nature will permit ; and let death either be 
 the necessity of fate, or, if it must be encountered earlier, let 
 it be encountered with glory. 
 
 This being the case, although the republic has no need (to 
 say the least of it) of this embassy, still if it be possible for 
 me to go on it in safety, I am willing to go. Altogether, O 
 conscript fathers, I shall regulate the whole of my conduct in 
 this affair, not by any consideration of my own danger, but 
 by the advantage of the republic. And, as I have plenty of 
 time, I think that it behooves me to deliberate upon that over 
 and over again, and to adopt that line of conduct which I shall 
 judge to be most beneficial to the republic. 
 
 THE THIRTEENTH ORATION OF M. T. CICERO AGAINST 
 
 MARCUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Antonius wrote a long letter to Hirtius and to Octavius, to persuade them 
 that they were acting against their true interests and dignity in com- 
 bining with the slayers of Julius Caesar against him. But they, instead 
 of answering this letter, sent it to Cicero at Rome. At the same time 
 Lepidus wrote a public letter to the senate to exhort them to measures 
 of peace ; and to a reconciliation with Antonius ; and took no notice 
 of the public honours which had been decreed to him in compliance 
 with Cicero's motion. The senate was much displeased at this. They 
 agreed, however, to a proposal of Servilius — to thank Lepidus for hia 
 love of peace, but to desire him to leave that to them ; as there could 
 be no peace till Antonius had laid down his arms. But Antonius's 
 friends were encouraged by Lepidus's letter to renew their suggestions 
 of a treaty ; which caused Cicero to deliver the following speech to th«, 
 senate for the purpose of counteracting the influence of their argu. 
 mente. 
 
 I. From the first beginning, O conscript fathers, of thi? 
 war which we have undertaken against those impious and 
 wicked citizens, I have been afraid lest the insidious proposals 
 of peace might damp our zeal for the recovery of our liberty. 
 For the name of peace is sweet ; and the thing itself not only 
 
474 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 pleasant but salutary. For a man seems to have no affection 
 either for the private hearths of the citizens, nor for the pub- 
 lic laws, nor for the rights of freedom, who is delighted with 
 discord and the slaughter of his fellow-citizens, and with civil 
 war; and such a man I think ought to-be erased from the 
 catalogue of men, and exterminated from all human society. 
 Therefore, if Sylla, or Marius, or both of them, or Octavius, 
 or Cinna, or Sylla for the second time, or the other Marius 
 and Carbo, or if any one else has ever wished for civil war, 
 I think that man a citizen born for the detestation of the 
 republic. For why should I sreak of the last man who stir- 
 red up such a war ; a man whose acts, indeed, we defend, 
 while we admit that the*author of them was deservedly slain ? 
 Nothing, then, is more infamous than such a citizen or such a 
 man ; if indeed he deserves to be considered either a citizen 
 or a man, who is desirous of civil war. 
 
 But the first thing that we have to consider, O conscript fa- 
 thers, is whether peace can exist with all men, or whether there 
 be any war incapable of reconciliation, in which any agree- 
 ment of peace is only a covenant of slavery. Whether Sylla 
 was making peace with Scipio, or whether he was only pre- 
 tending to do so, there was no reason to despair, if an agree- 
 ment had been come to, that the city might have been in a 
 tolerable state. If Cinna had been willing to agree with Oc- 
 tavius, the safety of the citizens might still have had an exist- 
 ence in the republic. In the last war, if Pompeius had relax- 
 ed somewhat of his dignified firmness, and Caesar a good deal 
 -of his ambition, we might have had both a lasting peace, and 
 Borne considerable remainder of the republic. 
 
 II. But what is the state of things now? Is it possible 
 for there to be peace with Antonius 1 ? with Censorinus, and 
 Ventidius, and Trebellius, and Bestia, and Nucula, and Mu- 
 natius, and Lento, and Saxa? I have just mentioned a few 
 names as a specimen ; you yourselves see the countless num- 
 bers and savage nature of the rest of the host. Add, besides 
 the wrecks of Caesar's party, the Barbae Cassdi, the Barbatii, 
 the Pollios ; add the companions and fellow-gamblers of An- 
 tonius, Eutrapelus, and Mela, and Coelius, and Pontics, and 
 Crassicius, and Tiro, and Mustela, and Petissius ; I say no- 
 thing of the main body, I am only naming the leaders. To 
 these are added the legionaries of the Alauda and the rest of 
 the veterans, the seminary of the judges of the third decury ,• 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC, 475 
 
 who, having exhausted their own estates, and squandered all 
 the fruits of Caesar's kindness, have now set their hearts on 
 our fortunes. Oh that trustworthy right hand of AntoniuSj 
 with which he has murdered many citizens ! Oh that reg- 
 ularly ratified and solemn treaty which we made with the 
 Antonii ! Surely if Marcus shall attempt to violate it, the 
 conscientious piety of Lucius will call him back from such 
 wickedness. If there is any room allowed these men in this 
 city, there will be no room for the city itself. Place before 
 your eyes, O conscript fathers, the countenances of those men, 
 and especially the countenances of the Antonii. Mark their 
 gait, their look, their face, their arrogance ; mark those friends 
 of theirs who walk by their side, who follow them, who precede 
 them. What breath reeking of wine, what insolence, what 
 threatening language do you not think there will be there? 
 Unless, indeed, the mere fact of peace is to soften them, and 
 unless you expect that, especially when they come into this as- 
 sembly, they will salute every one of us kindly, and address us 
 courteously. 
 
 ILT. Do you not recollect, in the name of the immortal 
 gods! what resolutions you have given utterance to against 
 those men 1 You have repealed the acts of Marcus Antonius ; 
 you have taken down his laws; you have voted that they 
 were carried by violence, and with a disregard of the auspices ; 
 you have called out the levies throughout all Italy ; you have 
 pronounced that colleague and ally of all wickedness a public 
 enemy. What peace can there be with this man ? Even if 
 he were a foreign enemy, still, after such actions as have taken 
 place, it would be scarcely possible, by any means whatever, 
 to have peace. Though seas and mountains, and vast regions 
 lay between you, still you would hate such a man without 
 seeing him. But these men will stick to your eyes, and when 
 they can, to your very throats ; for what fences will be strong 
 enough for us to restrain savage beasts ? — Oh, but the result 
 of war is uncertain. It is at all events in the power of brave 
 men, such as you ought to be, to display your valor (for cer- 
 tainly brave men can do that), and not to fear the caprice of 
 fortune. 
 
 But since it is not only courage but wisdom also which 
 is expected from this order (although these qualities appear 
 scarcely possible to be separated, still let us separate them 
 here), courage bids us fight, inflames our just hatred, urges 
 
47 G CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 us to the conflict, summons us to danger. What says wisdom 1 
 She uses more cautious counsels, she is provident for the fu- 
 ture, she is in every respect more on the defensive. What 
 then does she think? for we must obey her, and we are bound 
 to consider that the best thing which is arranged in the most 
 prudent manner. If she enjoins me to think nothing of more 
 consequence than my life, not to fight at the risk of my life, 
 but to avoid all danger, 1 will then ask her whether I am also 
 to become a slave when I have obeyed all these injunctions'? 
 If she says, yes ; I for one will not listen to that Wisdom, 
 however learned she may be ; but if the answer is, Preserve 
 your life and your safety, Preserve your fortune, " Preserve 
 your estate, still, however, considering all these things of less 
 value than liberty ; therefore enjoy these things if you can do 
 so consistently with the freedom of the republic, and do not 
 abandon liberty for them, but sacrifice them for liberty, as 
 proofs of the injury you have sustained;" — then I shall think 
 that I really am listening to the voice of Wisdom, and I will 
 obey her as a god. Therefore, if when we have received those 
 men we can still be free, let us subdue our hatred to them, 
 and endure peace; but if there can be no tranquillity while 
 those men are in safety, then let us rejoice that an opportu- 
 nity of fighting them is put in our power. For so, either 
 (these men being conquered) we shall enjoy the republic vic- 
 torious, or, if we be defeated (but may Jupiter avert that dis- 
 aster), we shall live, if not with an actual breath, at all events 
 in the renown of our valor. 
 
 IV. But Marcus Lepidus, having been a second time styled 
 Imperator, Pontifex Maximus, a man who deserved excellent- 
 ly well of the republic in the last civil war, exhorts us to 
 peace. No one, O conscript fathers, has greater weight with 
 me than Marcus Lepidus, both on account of his personal vir- 
 tues, and by reason of the dignity of his family. There are 
 also private reasons which influence me, such as great services 
 he has done me, and some kindnesses which I have done him. 
 But the greatest of his services I consider to be his being of 
 such a disposition as he is toward the republic, which has 
 at all times been dearer to me than my life. For when by 
 his influence he inclined Magnus Pompeius, a most admirable 
 young man, the son of one of the greatest of men, to peace, 
 and without arms released the republic from imminent dan- 
 ger of civil war, by so doing he laid me under as great obli 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 47f 
 
 gations as it was in the power of any man to do. There- 
 fore I proposed to decree to him the most ample honors that 
 were in my power, in which you agreed with me ; nor have 
 I ceased both to think and speak in the highest terms of 
 him. The republic has Marcus Lepidus bound to it by many 
 pledges. He is a man of the highest rank, of the greatest 
 honors; he has the most honorable priesthood, and has re- 
 ceived numberless distinctions in the city. There are monu- 
 ments of himself, and of his brother, and of his ancestors ; he 
 has a most excellent wife, children such as any man might de- 
 sire, an ample family estate, untainted with the blood of his 
 fellow-citizens. No citizen has been injured by him ; many 
 have been delivered from misery by his kindness and pity. 
 Such a man and such a citizen may indeed err in his opinion, 
 but it is quite impossible for him in inclination to be unfriend- 
 ly to the republic. 
 
 Marcus Lepidus is desirous of peace. He does well espe- 
 cially if he can make such a peace as he made lately, owing to 
 which the republic will behold the son of Cnaeus Pompeius, 
 and will receive him in her bosom and embrace ; and will 
 think, that not he alone, but that she also is restored to her- 
 self with him. This was the reason why you decreed to him 
 a statue in the rostra with an honorable inscription, and why 
 ■ you voted him a triumph in his absence. For although he had 
 performed great exploits in war, and such as well deserved a 
 triumph, still for that he might not have had that given to 
 him which was not given to Lucius ^Emilius, nor to iEmili- 
 anus Scipio, nor to the former Africanus, nor to Marius, nor 
 to Pompeius, who had the conduct of greater wars than he 
 had, but because he had put an end to a civil war in perfect 
 silence, the first moment that it was in his power, on that ac- 
 count you conferred on him the greatest honors. 
 
 Y. Do you think, then, O Marcus Lepidus, that the An' 
 tonii will be to the republic such citizens as she will find Pom- 
 peius? In the one there is modesty, gravity, moderation, in- 
 tegrity ; in them (and when I speak of them, I do not mean to 
 omit one of that band of pirates), there is lust, and wickedness, 
 and savage audacity capable of every crime. I entreat of 
 you, O conscript fathers, which of you fails to see this which 
 Fortune herself, who is called blind, sees? For, saving the 
 acts of Ca?sar, which we maintain for the sake of harmony, his 
 jwn house will be open to Pompeius, and he will redeem it 
 
478 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 for the same sum for which Antonius bought it. Yes, 1 s*y 
 the son of Cnams Pompeius will buy back his house. O mel- 
 ancholy circumstance! But these things have been already 
 lamented long and bitterly enough. You have voted a sum 
 of money to Cnaeus Pompeius, equal to that which his con- 
 quering enemy had appropriated to himself of his father's 
 property in the distribution of his booty. But I claim per- 
 mission to manage this distribution myself, as due to my con- 
 nection and intimacy with his father. He will buy back the 
 villas, the houses, and some of the estates in the city which 
 Antonius is in possession of. For as for the silver plate, the 
 garments, the furniture, and the wine which that glutton has 
 made away with, those things he will lose without forfeiting 
 his equanimity. The Alban and Firmian villas he will re- 
 cover from Dolabella ; the Tusculan villa he will also recover 
 from Antonius. And these Ansers who are joining in the 
 attack on Mutina and in the blockade of Decimus Brutus will 
 be driven from his Falernian villa. There are many others, 
 perhaps, who will be made to disgorge their plunder, but their 
 names escape my memory. I say, too, that those men who 
 are not in the number of our enemies, will be made to re- 
 store the possessions of Pompeius to his son for the price at 
 which they bought them. It was the act of a sufficiently 
 rash man, not to say an audacious one, to touch a single par- 
 ticle of that property ; but who will have the face to endeav- 
 or to retain it, when its most illustrious owner is restored tc 
 his country 1 ? Will not that man restore his plunder, whe 
 enfolding the patrimony of his master in his embrace, cling' 
 ing to the treasure like a dragon, the slave of Pompeius, th«r 
 freedman of Csesar, has seized upon his estates in the Luca' 
 riian district? And as for those seven hundred millions of ses' 
 terces which you, O conscript fathers, promised to the young 
 man, they will be recovered in such a manner that the son of 
 Cna3us Pompeius will appear to have been established by yow 
 in his patrimony. This is what the senate must do ; the Ro- 
 man people will do the rest with respect to that family which 
 was at one time one of the most honorable it ever saw. In 
 the first place, it will invest him with his father's honor as an 
 augur, for which rank I will nominate him and promote his 
 election, in order that I may restore to the son what I received 
 from the father. Which of these men will the Roman people 
 most willingly sanction as the augur of the all-powerful and 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 479 
 
 all-great Jupiter, whose interpreters and messengers we have 
 been appointed, — Pompeius or Antonius ? It seems indeed, to 
 me, that Fortune has managed this by the divine aid of the 
 immortal gods, that, leaving the acts of Caesar firmly ratified, 
 the son of Cnseus Pompeius might still be able to recover the 
 dignities and fortunes of his father. 
 
 VI. And I think, O conscript fathers, that we ought not to 
 pass over that fact either in silence, — that those illustrious 
 men who are acting as embassadors, Lucius Paullus, Quintus 
 Thermus, and Caius Faimius, whose inclinations toward the 
 republic you are thoroughly acquainted with, and also with 
 the constancy and firmness of that favorable inclination, report 
 that they turned aside to Marseilles for the purpose of confer- 
 ring with Pompeius, and that they found him in a disposition 
 very much inclined to go with his troops to Mutina, if he had 
 not been afraid of offending the minds of the veterans. But 
 he is a true son of that father who did quite as many things 
 wisely as he did bravely. Therefore you perceive that his 
 courage was quite ready, and that prudence was not wanting 
 to him. 
 
 And this, too, is what Marcus Lepidus ought to take care 
 of, — not to appear to act in any respect with more arrogance 
 than suits his character. For if he alarms us with his army, 
 he is forgetting that that army belongs to the senate, and to 
 the Roman people, and to the whole republic, not to himself. 
 "But he has the power to use it as if it were his own." What 
 then ? Does it become virtuous men to do every thing which 
 it is in their power to do? Suppose it to be a base thing? 
 Suppose it to be a mischievous thing? Suppose it be abso- 
 lutely unlawful to do it ? 
 
 But what can be more base, or more shameful, or more ut- 
 terly unbecoming, than to lead an army against the senate, 
 against one's fellow-citizens, against one's country? Or what 
 can deserve greater blame than doing that which is unlawfull 
 But it is not lawful for any one to lead an army against his 
 country? if indeed we say that that is lawful which is per- 
 mitted by the laws or by the usages and established principles 
 of our ancestors. For it does not follow that whatever a man 
 has power to do is lawful for him to do ; nor, if he be not 
 hindered, is he on that account permitted to do so. For to 
 you, O Lepidus, as to your ancestors, your country has given 
 an army to be employed in her cause. With this army you 
 
480 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 are to repel the enemy, you are to extend the boundaries of 
 the empire, you are to obey the senate and people of Rome, 
 if by any ehance they direct you to some other object. 
 
 VII. If these are your thoughts, then are you really Mar- 
 cus Lepidus the Pontifex Maximus, the great-grandson of Mar- 
 cus Lepidus, Pontifex Maximus. If you judge that every tiling- 
 is lawful for men to do that they have power to do, then be- 
 ware lest you seem to prefer acting on precedents set by those 
 who have no connection with you, and these, too, modern prec- 
 edents, to being guided by the ancient examples in your own 
 family. But if you interpose your authority without having 
 recourse to arms, in that case indeed I praise you more ; but 
 beware lest this thing itself be quite unnecessary. For al- 
 though there is all the authority in you that there ought to be 
 in a man of the highest rank, still the senate itself does not 
 despise itself; nor was it ever more wise, more firm, more 
 courageous. We are all hurried on with the most eager zc:il 
 to recover our freedom. Such a general ardor on the part of 
 the senate and people of Rome can not be extinguished by the 
 authority of any one: we hate a man who would extinguish 
 it ; we are angry with him, and resist him ; our arms can not 
 be wrested from our hands ; we are deaf to all signals for re- 
 treat, to all recall from the combat. We hope for the happiest 
 success ; we will prefer enduring the bitterest disaster to being 
 slaves. Caesar has collected an invincible army. Two per- 
 fectly brave consuls are present with their forces. The vari- 
 ous and considerable reinforcements of Lucius Plancus, consul 
 elect, are not wanting. The contest is for the safety of Deci- 
 mus Brutus. One furious gladiator, with a band of most infa- 
 mous robbers, is waging war against his country, against our 
 household gods, against our altars and our hearths, against 
 four consuls. Shall we yield to him? Shall we listen to the 
 conditions which he proposes? Shall we believe it possible 
 for peace to be made with him ? 
 
 VIII. But there is danger of our being overwhelmed. I 
 ihave no fear that the man who can not enjoy his own most 
 abundant fortunes, unless all the good men are saved, will 
 betray his own safety. It is nature which first makes good 
 citizens, and then fortune assists them. For it is for the ad- 
 vantage of all good men that the republic should be safe ; but 
 that advantage appears more clearly in the case of those who 
 are fortunate. Who is more fortunate than Lent ul us, as I 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 481 
 
 hari before, and who is more sensible? The Roman people 
 saw his sorrow and his tears at the Lupercal festival. They 
 saw how miserable, how overwhelmed he was when Antonius 
 placed a diadem on Caesar's head and preferred being his slave 
 to being his colleague. And even if he had been able to ab- 
 stain from his other crimes and wickednesses, still on account 
 of that one single action I should think him worthy of all 
 punishment. For even if he himself was calculated to be a 
 slave, why should he impose a master on us? And if his 
 childhood had borne the lusts of those men who were tyrants 
 over him, was he on that account to prepare a master and a 
 tyrant to lord it over our children ? Therefore since that man 
 was slain, he himself has behaved to all others in the same 
 manner as he wished him to behave to us. 
 
 For in what country of barbarians was there ever so foul 
 and cruel a tyrant as Antonius, escorted by the arms of bar- 
 barians, has proved in this city? When Caesar was exercising 
 the supreme power, we used to come into the senate, if not 
 with freedom, at all events with safety. But under this arch- 
 pirate (for why should I say tyrant ?) these benches were occu- 
 pied by Itureans. On a sudden he hastened to Brundusium, 
 in order to come against this city from thence with a regular 
 army. He deluged Suessa, a most beautiful town, now of 
 municipal citizens, formerly of most honorable colonists, with 
 the blood of the bravest soldiers. At Brundusium he mas- 
 sacred the chosen centurions of the Martial legion in the lap 
 of his wife, who was not only most avaricious but also most 
 cruel. After that with what fury, with what eagerness did he 
 hurry on to the city, that is to say, to the slaughter of every 
 virtuous man ! But at that time the immortal gods brought 
 to us a protector whom we had never seen nor expected. 
 
 IX. For the incredible and godlike virtue of Caesar checked 
 the cruel and frantic onslaught of that robber, whom then that 
 madman believed that he was injuring with his edicts, igno- 
 rant that all the charges which he was falsely alleging against 
 that most righteous young man, were all very appropriate tc 
 the recollections of his own childhood. He entered the city, 
 with what an escort, or rather with what a troop ! when on 
 the right hand and on the left, amid the groans of the Eoman 
 people, he was threatening the owners of property, taking notes 
 of the houses, and openly promising to divide the city among 
 his followers. He returned to his soldiers; then came that 
 
 X 
 
4^2 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mischievous assembly at Tibur. From thence he hurried to 
 the city; the senate was convened at the Capitol. A decree 
 with the authority of the consuls was prepared for proscribing 
 the young man ; when all on a sudden (for he was aware that 
 the Martial legion had encamped at Alba) news is brought 
 him of the proceedings of the fourth legion. 
 
 Alarmed at that, he abandoned his intention of submitting 
 a motion to the senate respecting Caesar. He departed not by 
 the regular roads, but by the by-lanes, in the robe of a gen- 
 eral; and on that very self-same day he trumped up a count 
 less number of resolutions of the senate ; all of which he pub* 
 lished even before they were drawn up. From thence it was 
 not a journey, but a race and flight into Gaul. He thought 
 that Caesar was pursuing him with the fourth legion, with the 
 Martial legion, with the veterans, whose very name he could 
 not endure for fright. Then, as he was making his way into 
 Gaul, Decimus Brutus opposed him ; who preferred being him- 
 self surrounded by the waves of the whole war, to allowing 
 him either to retreat or advance ; and who put Mutina on 
 him as a sort of bridle to his exultation. And when he had 
 blockaded that city with his works and fortifications, and 
 when the dignity of a most flourishing colony, and the majes- 
 ty of a consul elect, were both insufficient to deter him from 
 his parricidal treason, then (I call you, and the Roman peo- 
 ple, and all the gods who preside over this city, to witness), 
 against my will, and in spite of my resistance and remon- 
 strance, three embassadors of consular rank were sent to that 
 robber, to that leader of gladiators, Marcus Antonius. 
 
 Who ever was such a barbarian 1 Who was ever so sav- 
 age? so brutal? He would not listen to them ; he gave them 
 no answer; and he not only despised and showed that he con- 
 sidered of no importance those men who were with him, but 
 still more us, by whom these men had been sent. And after- 
 ward what wickedness, or what crime was there which thai 
 traitor abstained from? He blockaded your colonists, and the 
 army of the Roman people, and your general, and your consul 
 elect. He lays waste the lands of a nation of most excellent 
 citizens. Like a most inhuman enemy he threatens all virtu- 
 ous men with crosses and tortures. 
 
 X. Now what peace, O Marcus Lepidus, can exist with this 
 man? when it does not seem that there is even any punishment 
 which' the Roman people can think adequate to Ins crimes 1 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 483 
 
 But if any one lias hitherto been able to doubt the fact, that 
 there can be nothing whatever in common between this order 
 and the Roman people and that most detestable beast, let him 
 at least cease to entertain such a doubt, when he becomes ac- 
 quainted with this letter which I have just received, it having 
 been sent to me by Hirtius the consul. While I read it, and 
 while 1 briefly discuss each paragraph, I beg, O conscript fa- 
 thers, that you will listen to me most attentively, as you have 
 hitherto done. 
 
 " Antonius to Hirtius and Caesar." 
 
 He does not call himself imperator, nor Hirtius consul, nor 
 Caesar propraetor. This is cunningly done enough. He pre- 
 ferred laying aside a title to which he had no right himself, to 
 giving them their proper style. 
 
 " When I heard of the death of Caius Trebonius, I was not 
 more rejoiced than grieved." 
 
 Take notice why he says he rejoiced, why he says that he 
 was grieved ; and then you will be more easily able to decide 
 the question of peace. 
 
 " It was a matter of proper rejoicing that a wicked man had 
 paid the penalty due to the bones and ashes of a most illustri- 
 ous man, and that the divine power of the gods had shown it- 
 self before the end of the current year, by showing the chas- 
 tisement of that parricide already inflicted in some cases, and 
 impending in others." 
 
 O you Spartacus ! for what name is more fit for you ? you 
 whose abominable wickedness is such as to make even Catiline 
 seem tolerable. Have you dared to write that it is a matter of 
 rejoicing that Trebonius has suffered punishment? that Tre- 
 bonius was wicked? What was his crime, except that on the 
 ides of March he withdrew you from the destruction which you 
 had deserved? Come; you rejoice at this; let us see what it 
 is that excites your indignation. 
 
 " That Dolabella should at this time have been pronounced 
 a public enemy because he has slain an assassin ; and that the 
 son of a buffoon should appear dearer to the Roman people 
 than Caius Caesar, the father of his country, are circumstances 
 to be lamented." 
 
 Why should you be sad because Dolabella has been pro- 
 nounced a public enemy? Why? Are you not aware that 
 you yourself — by the fact of an enlistment having taken place 
 "11 over Italy, and of the consuls being: sent forth to war, ar 1 
 
484 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 of Caesar having received great honors, and of the garb of war 
 having been assumed — have also been pronounced an enemy? 
 And what reason is there, O you wicked man, for lamenting 
 that Dolabella has been declared an enemy by the senate? a 
 body which you indeed think of no consequence at all ; but 
 you make it your main object in waging war utterly to de- 
 stroy the senate, and to make all the rest of those who are 
 either virtuous or wealthy follow the fate of the highest order 
 of all. But he calls him the son of a buffoon. As if that 
 noble Roman knight the father of Trebonius were unknown 
 to us. And does he venture to look down on any one because 
 of the meanness of his birth, when he has himself children by 
 Padia? 
 
 XI. "But it is the bitterest thing of all that you, O Aulus 
 Hirtius, who have been distinguished by Ca j sa?-"s kindness, and 
 who have been left by him in a condition whirib you yourself 
 marvel at. * * * " 
 
 1 can not indeed deny that Aulus Hirtius was distinguished 
 by Caesar, but such distinctions are only of value- when con- 
 ferred on virtue and industry. But you, who can not deny 
 that you also were distinguished by Caesar, what would yoi? 
 have been if he had not showered so many kindnesses on you? 
 Where would your own good qualities have borne you % Where 
 would your birth have conducted you? You would have spent 
 the whole period of your manhood in brothels, and cook-shops, 
 and in gambling and drinking, as you used to do when you 
 were always burying your brains and your beard in the laps 
 of actresses. 
 
 " And you too, O boy — " 
 
 He calls him a boy whom he has not only experienced and 
 shall again experience to be a man, but one of the bravest of 
 men. It is indeed the name appropriate to his age ; but he is 
 the last man in the world who ought to use it, when it is his 
 own madness that has opened to this boy the path to glory. 
 
 " You who owe every thing to his name — " 
 
 He does indeed owe every thing, and nobly is he paying it. 
 For if he was the father of his country, as you call him (1 will 
 see hereafter what my opinion of that matter is), why is not 
 this youth still more truly our father, to whom it certainly is 
 owing that we are now enjoying life, saved out of your most 
 guilty hands'? 
 
 "Are taking pains to have Dolabella legally condemned." 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 485 
 
 A base action, truly ! by which the authority of this most 
 honorable order is defended against the insanity of a most in 
 human gladiator. 
 
 " And to effect the release of this poisoner from blockade." 
 
 Do you dare to call that man a poisoner who has found a 
 remedy against your own poisoning tricks? and whom you are 
 besieging in such a manner, O you new Hannibal (or if there 
 was ever any abler general than he), as to blockade yourself, 
 and to be unable to extricate yourself from your present posi- 
 tion, should you be ever so desirous to do so ? Suppose you 
 retreat; they will all pursue you from all sides. Suppose you 
 stay where you are; you will be caught. You are very right, 
 certainly, to call him a poisoner, by whom you see that your 
 present disastrous condition has been brought about. 
 
 " In order that Cassius and Brutus may become as power- 
 ful as possible." 
 
 "Would you suppose that he is speaking of Censorinus, or of 
 Ventidius, or of the Antonii themselves? But why should they 
 be unwilling that those men should become powerful, who are 
 not only most excellent and nobly born men, but who are also 
 united with them in the defense of the republic ? 
 
 " In fact, you look upon the existing circumstances as you 
 did on the former ones." 
 
 What can he mean? 
 
 " You used to call the camp of Pompeius the senate." 
 
 XII. Should we rather call your camp the senate? In 
 which you are the only man of consular rank, you whose 
 whole consulship is effaced from every monument and regis- 
 tex , and two praetors, who are afraid that they will lose some- 
 thing by us, — a groundless fear. For we are maintaining all 
 the grants made by Caesar ; and men of praetorian rank, Phil- 
 adelphus Annius, and that innocent Gallius ; and men of aedi- 
 litian rank, he on whom I have spent so much of my lungs 
 and voice, Bestia, and that patron of good faith and cheater 
 of his creditors, Trebellius, and that bankrupt and ruined man 
 Quintus. Caelius, and that support of the friends of Antonius 
 Cotyla Yarius, whom Antonius for his amusement caused at a 
 banquet to be flogged with thongs by the public slaves. Men 
 of septemviral rank, Lento and Nucula, and then that delight 
 and darling of the Roman people, Lucius Antonius. And for 
 tribunes, first of all two tribunes elect, Tuilus Hostilius, who 
 was so full of his privileges as to write up his name on th* 
 
48(i CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 gate of Rome ; and who, when he found himself unable to be- 
 tray his general, deserted him. The other tribune elect is a 
 man of the name of Yiseius ; I know nothing about him ; but 
 I hear that he is (as they say) a bold robber ; who, however, 
 they say was once a bathing-man at Pisaurum, and a very 
 good hand at mixing the water. Then there are others too, 
 of tribunitian rank: in the first place, Titus Plancus; a man 
 who, if he had had any affection for the senate, would never 
 have burned the senate-house. Having been condemned for 
 which wickedness, he returned to that city by force of arms 
 from which he was driven by the power of the law. But, 
 however, this is a case common to him and to many others 
 who are very unlike him. But this is quite true which men 
 are in the habit of saying of this Plancus in a proverbial way, 
 that it is quite impossible for him to die unless his legs are 
 broken. 1 They are broken, and still he lives. But this, like 
 many others, is a service that has been done us by Aquila. 
 
 XIII. There is also in that camp Decius, descended, as I 
 believe, from the great Decius Mus ; accordingly he gained 2 
 the gifts of Ceesar. And so after a long interval the recollec- 
 tion of the Decii is renewed by this illustrious man. And how 
 can I pass over Saxa Decidius, a fellow imported from the 
 most distant nations, in order that we might see that man 
 tribune of the people whom we had never beheld as a citizen ? 
 There is also one of the Sasernae ; but all of them have such 
 a resemblance to one another, that I may make a mistake as 
 to their first names. Nor must I omit Exitius, the brother 
 of Philadelphus the quasstor ; lest, if I were to be silent about 
 that most illustrious young man, I should seem to be envying 
 Antonius. There is also a gentleman of the name of Asinius, 
 a voluntary senator, having been elected by himself, lie saw 
 the senate-house open after the death of Caesar, he changed 
 his shoes, and in a moment became a conscript father. Sex- 
 tus Albedius I do not know, but still I have not fallen in with 
 any one so fond of evil-speaking, as to deny that he is worthy 
 of a place in the senate of Antonius- 
 
 I dare say that I have passed over some names ; bnt still I 
 could not refrain from mentioning those who did occur to me. 
 
 1 That is, without being crucified like a slave. 
 
 3 The Latin here is " Itaque Csesaris munera rosit," — playing on the 
 name nius, mouse ; but Orellius thinks the whole passage corrupt, and 
 indeed there is evident corruption in the text here in many placet 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 487 
 
 Relying then on this senate, he looks down on the senate ' 
 which supported Pompeius, in which ten of us were men of 
 consular rank ; and if they were all alive now this war would 
 never have arisen at all. Audacity would have succumbed to 
 authority. But what great protection there would have been 
 in the rest may be understood from this, that I, when left 
 alone of all that band, with your assistance crushed and broke 
 the audacity of that triumphant robber. 
 
 XIV. But if Fortune had not taken from us not only Ser- 
 vius Sulpicius, and before him, his colleague Marcus Marcel- 
 lus, — what citizens! What men! If the republic had been 
 able to retain the two consuls, men most devoted to their 
 countrv, who were driven together out of Italv ; and Lucius 
 Afranius, that consummate general; and Publius Lentulus, 
 a citizen who displayed his extraordinary virtue on other occa- 
 sions, and especially in the securing my safe return ; and Bib- 
 ulus, whose constant and firm attachment to the republic has 
 at all times been deservedly praised ; and Lucius Domitius, 
 that most excellent citizen ; and Appius Claudius, a man 
 equally distinguished for nobleness of birth and for attach- 
 ment to the state ; and Publius Scipio, a most illustrious man, 
 closely resembling his ancestors. Certainly with these men 
 of consular rank, 1 the senate which supported Pompeius was 
 not to be despised. 
 
 Which, then, was more just, which was more advantageous 
 for the republic, that Cnaeus Pompeius, or that Antonius the 
 brother who bought all Pompeius's property, should live? 
 And then what men of praetorian rank were with us! the 
 chief of whom was Marcus Cato, being indeed the chief man 
 of any nation in the world for virtue. Why need I speak of 
 the other most illustrious men? you know them all. I am 
 more afraid lest you should think me tedious for enumerating 
 so many, than ungrateful for passing over any one. And 
 what men of asdilitian rank ! and of tribunitian rank ! and of 
 qusestorian rank ! Why need I make a long story of it ? so 
 great was the dignity of the senators of our party, so great too 
 were their numbers, that those men have need of some very 
 valid excuse who did not join that camp. Now listen to the 
 rest of the letter. 
 
 ' He means Lucius JEmilius Paullus, ?jnd Caius Claudius Marcellus, 
 who were consuls the year after Servius Sulpicius and Marcus Claudius 
 Marcellus, x.v.c. 704. 
 
488 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 XV. "You have the defeated Cicero for your general." 
 
 I am the more glad to hear that word "general," because 
 he certainly uses it against his will ; for as for his saying 
 "defeated," 1 do not mind that; for it is my fate that I can 
 neither be victorious nor defeated without the republic being 
 so at the same time. 
 
 "You are fortifying Macedonia with armies." 
 
 Yes, indeed, and we have wrested one from your brother, 
 who does not in the least degenerate from you. 
 
 " You have intrusted Africa to Varus, who has been twice 
 taken prisoner." 
 
 Here he thinks that he is making out a case against his 
 own brother Lucius. 
 
 " You have sent Capius into Syria." 
 
 Do you not see then, O Antonius, that the whole world is 
 open to our party, but that you have no spot, out of your own 
 fortifications, where you can set your foot % 
 
 " You have allowed Casca to discharge the office of tribune." 
 
 What then'? "Were we to remove a man, as if he had been 
 Marullus, 1 or Caasetius, to whom we own it, that this and 
 many other things like this can never happen for the future ? 
 
 "You have taken away from the Luperci the revenues 
 which Julius Caesar assigned to them." 
 
 Does he dare to make mention of the Luperci f Does he 
 not shudder at the recollection of that day on which, smelling 
 of wine, reeking with perfumes, and naked, he dared to exhort 
 the indignant Roman people to embrace slavery ? 
 
 " You, by a resolution of the senate, have removed the col- 
 onies of the veterans which had been legally settled." 
 
 Have we removed them, or have we rather ratified a law 
 which was passed in the comitia centuriata"? See, rather, 
 whether it is not you who have ruined these veterans ((hose 
 at least who are ruined), and settled them in a place from 
 which they themselves now feel that they shall never be able 
 to make their escape. 
 
 " You are promising to restore to the people of Marseilles 
 what has been taken from them by the laws of war." 
 
 I am not going to discuss the laws of war. It is a discus- 
 sion far more easy to begin than necessary. But take notice 
 of this, O conscript fathers, what a born enemy to the repub- 
 
 1 These two were tribunes of the people, who had been dispossessed 
 of their offices by Julius Caesar. 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 489 
 
 lie Antonius is, who is so violent in his hatred of that city 
 which he knows to have been at all times most firmly attached 
 to this republic. 
 
 XVI. " [Do you not know] that no one of the party of 
 Pompeius, who is still alive, can, by the Hirtian law, possess 
 any rank ?" 
 
 What, I should like to know, is the object of now making 
 mention of the Hirtian law? — a law of which I believe the 
 framer himself repents no less than those against whom it 
 was passed. According to my opinion, it is utterly wrong to 
 call it a law at all ; and, even if it be a law, we ought not to 
 think it a law of Hirtius. 
 
 " You have furnished Brutus with money belonging to 
 Apuleius." 
 
 Well? Suppose the republic had furnished that excellent 
 man with all its treasures and resources, what good man 
 would have disapproved of it 1 For without money he could 
 not have supported an army, nor without an army could he 
 have taken your brother prisoner. 
 
 *' You have praised the execution of Paetus and Menedemus, 
 men who had been presented with the freedom of the citv. 
 and who were united by ties of hospitality to Caesar." 
 
 We do not praise what we have never even heard of; we 
 were very likely, in such a state of confusion, and such a crit- 
 ical period of the republic, to busy our minds about two worth- 
 less Greeklings! 
 
 " You took no notice of Theopompus having been stripped, 
 and driven out by Trebonius, and compelled to flee to Alex- 
 andria." 
 
 The senate has indeed been very guilty! We have taken 
 no notice of that great man Theopompus! Why, who on 
 earth knows or cares where he is, or what he is doing ; or 7 
 indeed, whether he is alive or dead ? 
 
 "You endure the sight of Sergius Galba in your camp, 
 armed with the same dagger with which he slew Caesar." 
 
 I shall make you no reply at all about Galba ; a most gal- 
 lant and courageous citizen. He will meet you face to face ; 
 and he being present, and that dagger which you reproach 
 him with, shall give you your answer. 
 
 " You have enlisted my soldiers, and many veterans, undei 
 the pretense of intending the destruction of those men who 
 slew Caesar ; and then, when they expected no such step, you 
 
 X2 
 
490 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have led them on to attack their quaestor, their general, and 
 their former comrades ! " 
 
 No doubt Ave deceived them ; we humbugged them com- 
 pletely ! no doubt the Martial legion, the fourth legion, and 
 the veterans had no idea what was going on ! They were 
 not following the authority of the senate, or the liberty of the 
 Roman people. — They were anxious to avenge the death of 
 Caesar, which they all regarded as an act of destiny ! No 
 doubt you were the person whom they were anxious to see 
 safe, and happy, and flourishing ! 
 
 XVII. Oh miserable man, not only in fact, but also in the 
 circumstance of not perceiving yourself how miserable you are ! 
 But listen to the most serious charge of all. 
 
 " In fact, what have you not sanctioned, — what have you 
 not done? what would be done if he were to come to life 
 again, by? — " 
 
 By whom % For I suppose he means to bring forward some 
 instance of a very wicked man. 
 
 " Cnaeus Pompeius himself?" 
 
 Oh how base must w r e be, if indeed we have been imitating 
 Cnaeus Porcqieius ! 
 
 " Or his son, if he could be at home I " 
 
 He soon will be at home, believe me ; for in a very few 
 days he will enter on his home, and on his father's villas. 
 
 "Lastly, you declare that peace can not be made unless I 
 either allow Brutus to quit Mutina, or supply him with 
 corn." 
 
 It is others who say that: I say, that even if you were to 
 do so, there never could be peace between this city and you. 
 
 "What? is this the opinion of those veteran soldiers, to 
 whom as yet either course is open ?" 
 
 I do not see that there is any course so open to them, as 
 now to begin and attack that general whom they previously 
 were so zealous and unanimous in defending. 1 
 
 1 There is some difficulty here. Many editors propose to read " offen- 
 derint," which Orellius thinks would hardly he Latin. He says, "An- 
 tonius is here speaking of those veterans who had deserted him indeed, hut 
 who, at the time of his writing this letter, had not acted against him." 
 Therefore, he says it is open to them to hecotne reconciled to him again 
 (wishing to conciliate them, and to alarm his enemies). On the other 
 hand, Cicero replies. Nothing is so open to them now as to do what their 
 duty to the republic requires. That is to say, openly to attack you, whose 
 party they have already abandoned. 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 491 
 
 u Since you yourselves have sold yourselves for flatteries 
 and poisoned gifts." 
 
 Are those men depraved and corrupted, who have been per- 
 suaded to pursue a most detestable enemy with most right- 
 eous war? 
 
 " But you say, you are bringing assistance to troops who 
 are hemmed in. I have no objection to their being saved, and 
 departing wherever you wish, if they only allow that man to 
 be put to death who has deserved it." 
 
 How very kind of him ! The soldiers availing themselves 
 of the liberality of Antonius have deserted their general, and 
 have fled in alarm to his enemy ; and if it had not been for 
 them, Dolabella, in offering the sacrifice which he did to the 
 shade of his general, would not have been beforehand with 
 Antonius in propitiating the spirit of his colleague by a simi- 
 lar ofterins:. 
 
 " You write me word that there has been mention of peace 
 made in the senate, and that five embassadors of consular rank 
 have been appointed. It is hard to believe that those men, 
 who drove me in haste from the city, when 1 offered the fairest 
 conditions, and when I was even thinking of relaxing some- 
 what of them, should now think of acting with moderation or 
 humanity. And it is hardly probable, that those men who 
 have pronounced Dolabella a public enemy for a most right- 
 eous action, should bring themselves to spare us who are in- 
 fluenced bv the same sentiments as he." 
 
 Does it appear a trifling matter, that he confesses himself a 
 partner with Dolabella in all his atrocities'? Do you not see 
 that all these crimes flow from one source L ? He himself con- 
 fesses, shrewdly and correctly enough, that those who have 
 pronounced Dolabella a public enemy for a most righteous ac- 
 tion (for so it appears to Antonius), can not possibly spare him 
 who agrees with Dolabella in opinion. 
 
 XVIII. What can you do with a man who puts on paper 
 and records the fact, that his agreement with Dolabella is so 
 complete, that he would kill Trebonius, and, if he could, Bru- 
 tus and Cassias too, with every circumstance of torture ; and 
 inflict the same punishment on us also? Certainly, a man 
 who makes so pious and fair a treaty is a citizen to be taken 
 care of! He, also, complains that the conditions which he 
 offered, those reasonable and modest conditions, were rejected ; 
 namely, that he was to have the farther Gaul, — the province 
 
492 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 the most suitable of all for renewing and carrying on the war ; 
 that the legionaries of the Alauda should be judges in the 
 third decury ; that is to say, that there shall be an asylum for 
 all crimes, to the indelible disgrace of the republic ; that his 
 own acts should be ratified, his, — when not one trace of his 
 consulship has been allowed to remain ! He showed his re- 
 gard also for the interests of Lucius Antonius, who had been 
 a most equitable surveyor of private and public domains, with 
 Nucula and Lento for his colleagues. 
 
 " Consider then, both of you, whether it is more becoming 
 and more advantageous for your party, for you to seek to 
 avenge the death of Trebonius, or that of Caesar; and wheth- 
 er it is more reasonable for you and me to meet in battle, in 
 order that the cause of the Pompeians, which has so frequent- 
 ly had its throat cut, may the more easily revive ; or to agree 
 together, so as not to be a laughing-stock to our enemies." 
 
 If its throat had been cut, it never could revive. "Which," 
 says he, " is more becoming." In this Avar he talks of what 
 is becoming I "And more advantageous for your party." — 
 "Parties," you senseless man, is a suitable expression for the 
 forum, or the senate house. You have declared a wicked war 
 against your country % you are attacking Mutina ; you are 
 besieging the consul elect ; two consuls are carrying on war 
 against you ; and with them, Caesar, the propraetor ; all Italy 
 is armed against you ; and then do you call yours " a party," 
 instead of a revolt from the republic 1 " To seek to avenge 
 the death of Trebonius, or that of Caesar." We have avenged 
 Trebonius sufficiently by pronouncing Dolabella a public ene- 
 my. The death of Caesar is best defended by oblivion and si- 
 lence. But take notice what his object is. — AVhen he thinks 
 that the death of Caesar ought to be revenged, he is threaten- 
 ing with death, not those only who perpetrated that action, 
 but those also who were not indignant at it. 
 
 XIX. " Men who will count the destruction of either you 
 or me gain to them. A spectacle which as yet fortune herself 
 has taken care to avoid, unwilling to see two armies which be- 
 long to one body fighting, with Cicero acting as master of the 
 show ; a fellow who is so far happy that he has cajoled you 
 both with the same compliments as those with which he boast- 
 ed that he had deceived Caesar." 
 
 He proceeds in his abuse of me, as if he had been very for- 
 tunate in all his former reproaches of me ; but I will brand 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. . 493 
 
 him. with the most thoroughly deserved marks of infamy, and 
 pillory him for the everlasting recollection of posterity. I a 
 " master of the show of gladiators !" indeed he is not wholly 
 wrong, for I do wish to see the worst party slain, and the best 
 victorious. He writes that "whichever of them are destroyed 
 we shall count as so much gain." Admirable gain, when, if 
 you, O Antonius, are victorious (may the gods avert such a 
 disaster !) the death of those men who depart from life untor- 
 tured will be accounted happy ! He says that Hirtius and 
 Caesar " have been cajoled by me by the same compliments." 
 I should like to know what compliment has been as yet paid 
 to Hirtius by me ; for still more and greater ones than have 
 been paid him already are due to Caesar. But do you, O An- 
 tonius, dare to say that Caesar, the father, was deceived by 
 me? You, it was you, I - . who really slew him at the 
 Lupercal games. Why, O most ungrateful of men, have you 
 abandoned your office of priest to him 1 But remark now the 
 admirable wisdom and consistency of this great and illustrious 
 man. 
 
 " I am quite resolved to brook no insult either to myself or 
 to my friends; nor to desert that party which Pompeius hated, 
 nor to allow the veterans to be removed from their abodes ; 
 nor to allow individuals to be draped out to torture, nor to 
 violate the faith which I pledged to Dolabella." 
 
 I say nothing of the rest of this sentence, " the faith pledged 
 to Dolabella," to that most holy man, this pious gentleman 
 will by no means violate. "What faith 1 Was it a pledge to 
 murder every virtuous citizen, to partition the city and Italy, 
 to distribute the provinces among, and to hand them over to 
 be plundered by, their followers ? For what else was there 
 which could have been ratified by treaty and mutual pledges 
 between Antonius and Dolabella, those foul and parricidal 
 traitors ? 
 
 "Nor to violate my treaty of alliance with Lepidus, the 
 most conscientious of men." 
 
 You have any alliance with Lepidus or with any (I will not 
 say virtuous citizen, as he is, but with any) man in his senses ! 
 Your object is to make Lepidus appear either an impious man, 
 or a madman. But you are doing no good (although it is a 
 hard matter to speak positively of another), especially with a 
 man like Lepidus, whom I will never fear, but I shall hope 
 good things of him unless I am prevented from doing so. 
 
494 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Lepidus wished to recall you from your phrensy, not to be 
 the assistant of your insanity. But you seek your friends not 
 only among conscientious men, but among most conscientious 
 men. And you actually, so godlike is your piety, invent a 
 new word to express it which has no existence in the Latin 
 lansuajre. 
 
 "Nor to betray Plancus, the partner of my counsels." 
 
 Plancus, the partner of your counsels ? He, whose ever- 
 memorable and divine virtue brings a light to the republic 
 (unless, mayhap, you think that it is as a reinforcement to 
 you that he has come with those most gallant legions, and 
 with a numerous Gallic force of both cavalry and infantry) ; 
 and who, if before his arrival you have not by your punish- 
 ment made atonement to the republic for your wickedness, 
 will be chief leader in this war. For although the first suc- 
 cors that arrive are more useful to the republic, yet the last 
 are the more acceptable. 
 
 XX. However, at last he recollects himself and begins to 
 philosophize. 
 
 "If the immortal gods assist me, as I trust that they will, 
 going on my way with proper feelings, I shall live happily ; 
 but if another fate awaits me, I have already a foretaste of 
 joy in the certainty of your punishment. For if the Pom* 
 peians when defeated are so insolent, yx>u will be sure to ex- 
 perience what they will be when victorious." 
 
 You are very welcome to your foretaste of joy. For you 
 are at war not only with the Pompeians, but with the entire 
 republic. Every one, gods and men, the highest rank, the 
 middle class, the lowest dregs of the people, citizens and 
 foreigners, men and -women, free men and slaves, all hate 
 you. We saw this the other day on some false news that 
 came ; but we shall soon see it from the way in which true 
 news is received. And if you ponder these things with your- 
 self a little, you will die with more equanimity, and greater 
 comfort. 
 
 " Lastly, this is the sum of my opinion and determination ; 
 I will bear with the insults offered me by my friends, if they 
 themselves are willing to forget that they have offered them ; 
 or if they are prepared to unite with me in avenging Caesar's 
 death." 
 
 Now that they know this resolution of Antonius, do yon 
 thitik that Aulus Ilirtius and Caius Pansa, the consuls, can 
 
THE THIRTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 495 
 
 hesitate to pass over to Antonius? to besiege Brutus? to be 
 eager to attack Mutina % Why do I say Hirtius and Pansa ? 
 Will Caesar, that young man of singular piety, be able to re- 
 strain himself from seeking to avenge the injuries of his father 
 in the blood of Decimus Brutus 1 Therefore, as soon as they 
 had read this letter, the course which they adopted was to ap- 
 proach nearer to the fortifications. And on this account we 
 ought to consider Caesar a still more admirable young man ; 
 and that a still greater kindness of the immortal gods which 
 gave him to the republic, as he has never been misled by the 
 specious use of his father's name ; nor by any false idea of pi- 
 ety and aiFection. He sees clearly that the greatest piety con • 
 sists in the salvation of one's country. But if it were a con- 
 test between parties, the name of which is utterly extinct, then 
 w r ould Antonius and Ventidius be the proper persons to uphold 
 the party of Caesar, rather than in the first place, Caesar, a 
 young man full of the greatest pifcty and the most affectionate 
 recollection of his parent? and next to him Pansa and Hirti- 
 us, who held (if I may use such an expression) the two horns 
 of Caesar, at the time when that deserred to be called a party. 
 But what parties are these, when the one proposes to itself to 
 uphold the authority of the senate, the liberty of the Roman 
 people, and the safety of the republic, while the other fixes its 
 eyes on the slaughter of all good men, and on the partition of 
 the city and of Italy ! 
 
 XXI. Let us come at last to the end. 
 
 "I do not believe that embassadors are coming — " 
 
 He knows me well. 
 
 "Toa place where war exists." 
 
 Especially with the example of Dolabella before our eyes. 
 Embassadors, I should think, will have privileges more re- 
 spected than two consuls against whom he is bearing arms; 
 or than Caesar, whose father's priest he is ; or than the consul 
 elect, whom he is attacking ; or than Mutina, which he is be- 
 sieging ; or than his country, which he is threatening with 
 fire and sword. 
 
 " When they do come I shall see what they demand 1 .' 5 
 
 Plagues and tortures seize you ! Will anyone come to you, 
 unless he be a man like Ventidius ? We sent men t)f the very 
 highest character to extinguish the rising conflagration ; you 
 rejected them. Shall we now send men when the fire has be- 
 come so large and has risen to such a height, and when you 
 
49G CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have left yourself no possible room, not only for peace, but 
 not even for a surrender*? 
 
 I have read you this letter, O conscript fathers, not because 
 I thought it worth reading, but in order to let you see all his 
 parricidal treasons revealed by his own confessions. Would 
 Marcus Lepidus, that man so richly endowed with all the 
 gifts of virtue and fortune, if he saw this letter, either wish 
 for peace with this man, or even think it possible that peace 
 should be made ? " Sooner shall fire and water mingle," as 
 some poet or other says ; sooner shall any thing in the world 
 happen than either the republic become reconciled to the An- 
 tonii, or the Antonii to the republic. Those men are mon- 
 sters, prodigies, portentous pests of the republic. It would 
 be better for this city to be uplifted from its foundations and 
 transported, if such a thing were possible, into other regions, 
 where it should never hear of the actions or the name of the 
 Antonii, than for it to see those men, driven out by the valor 
 of Caesar, and hemmed in by the courage of Brutus, inside 
 these walls. The most desirable thing is victory ; the next 
 best thing is to think no disaster too great to bear in defense 
 of the disrnitv and freedom of one's country. The remaining 
 alternative, I will not call it the third, but the lowest of all, 
 is to undergo the greatest disgrace from a desire of life. 
 
 Since, then, this is the case, as to the letters and messages 
 of Marcus Lepidus, that most illustrious man, I agree with 
 Servilius. And I farther give my vote, that Magnus Pom- 
 peius, the son of Cnseus, has acted as might have been expect- 
 ed from the affection and zeal of his father and forefathers 
 toward the' republic, and from his own previous virtue and 
 industry and loyal principles in promising to the senate and 
 people of Home his own assistance, and that of those men 
 whom lie had with him ; and that that conduct of his is 
 grateful and acceptable to the senate and people of Koine, 
 and that it shall tend to his own honor and dignity. This 
 may either be added to the resolution of the senate which is 
 before us, or it may be separated from it and drawn up by it- 
 self, so as to let Pompeius be seen to be extolled in a distinct 
 resolution of the senate. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 497 
 
 THE FOURTEENTH (AND LAST) ORATION OF M. T. CICERO 
 AGAINST MARCUS ANTONIUS. 
 
 CALLED ALSO THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 After the last speech was delivered, Brutus gained great advantages in 
 Macedonia over Caius Antonius, and took him prisoner. He treated 
 him with great lenity, so much so as to displease Cicero, who remon- 
 strated with him strongly on his design of setting him at liberty. He 
 was also under some apprehension as to the steadiness of Plancus's loy- 
 alty to the senate ; but on his writing to that body to assure them of 
 his obedience, Cicero procured a vote of some extraordinary honors to 
 him. 
 
 Cassius also about the same time was very successful in Syria, of which 
 he wrote Cicero a full account. Meantime reports were being spread 
 in the city by the partisans of Antonius, of his success before Mutina ; 
 and even of his having gained over the consuls. Cicero too was per- 
 sonally much annoyed at a report which they spread of his having 
 formed the design of making himself master of the city and assuming 
 the title of Dictator ; but when Apuleius, one of his friends, and a trib- 
 une of the people, proceeded to make a speech to the people in Cic- 
 ero's justification, the people all cried out that he had never done any 
 thing which was not for the advantage of the republic. About the same 
 time news arrived of a victory gained over Antonius at Mutina. 
 
 Pansa was now on the point of joining Hirtius with four new legions, and 
 Antonius endeavored to surprise him on the road before he could ef- 
 fect that junction. A severe battle ensued, in which Hirtius came to 
 Pansa's aid, and Antonius was defeated w 7 ith great loss. On the re- 
 ceipt of the news the populace assembled about Cicero's house, and 
 carried him in triumph to the Capitol. The next day Marcus Cornu- 
 tus, the praetor, summoned the senate to deliberate on the letters re- 
 ceived from the consuls and Octavius, giving an account of the victory. 
 Servilius declared his opinion that the citizens should relinquish the 
 saguim, or robe of war ; and that a supplication should be decreed in 
 honor of the consuls and Octavius. Cicero rose next and delivered the 
 following speech, objecting to the relinquishment of the robe of war, 
 and blaming Servilius for not calling Antonius an enemy. 
 
 The measures which he himself proposed were carried. 
 
 I. If, O conscript fathers, while I learned from the letters 
 which have been read that the army of our most wicked ene- 
 mies had been defeated and routed, I had also learned what 
 we all wish for above all things, and which we do suppose has 
 resulted from that victory which has been achieved, — namely, 
 
498 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 that Decimus Brutus had already quitted Mutina, — then 1 
 should without any hesitation give my vote for our returning 
 to our usual drees out of joy at the safety of that citizen on 
 account of whose danger it was that we adopted the robe of 
 war. But before any news of that event which the city looks 
 for with the greatest eagerness arrives, we have sufficient re; - 
 son indeed for joy at this most important and most illustrious 
 battle ; but reserve, I beg you, your return to your usual dress 
 for the time of complete victory. But the completion of this 
 war is the safety of Decimus Brutus. 
 
 But what is the meaning of this proposal that our dress 
 shall be changed just for to-day, and that to-morrow we 
 should again come forth in the garb of war ? Eather when 
 we have once turned to that dress which we wish and desire 
 to assume, let us strive to retain it forever ; for this is not 
 only discreditable, but it is displeasing also to "the immortal 
 gods, to leave their altars, which we have approached in the 
 attire of peace, for the purpose of assuming the garb of war. 
 And I notice, O conscript fathers, that there are some who 
 favor this proposal: whose intention and design is, as they see 
 that that will be a most glorious day for Decimus Brutus on 
 which we return to our usual dress out of joy for his safety, 
 to deprive him of this great reward, so that it may not be 
 handed down to the recollection of posterity that the Roman 
 people had recourse to the garb of war on account of the dan- 
 ger of one single citizen, and then returned to their gowns 
 of peace on account of his safety. Take away this reason, 
 smd you will find no other for so absurd a proposal. But 
 do you, O conscript fathers, preserve your authority, adhere 
 to your own opinions, preserve in your recollection what you 
 have often declared, that the whole result of this entire war 
 depends on the life of one most brave and excellent man. 
 
 II. For the purpose of effecting the liberation of Decimus 
 Brutus, the chief men of the state were sent as embassadors, 
 to give notice to that enemy and parricidal traitor to retire 
 from Mutina; for the sake of preserving that same Decimus 
 Brutus, Aulus Ilirtius, the consul, went by lot to conduct the 
 war; a man the weakness of whose bodily health was made 
 up for by the strength of his courage, and encouraged by the 
 hope of victory; Ca-sar, too, after he, with an army levied by 
 his own resources and on his own authority, had delivered 
 the republic from the first dangers that assailed it, in order 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 499 
 
 to prevent any subsequent wicked attempts from being origin- 
 ated, departed to assist in the deliverance of the same Brutus, 
 and subdued some family vexation which he may have felt by 
 his attachment to his country. What other object had Caius 
 Pansa in holding the levies which he did, and in collecting 
 money, and in carrying the most severe resolutions of the 
 senate against Antonius, and in exhorting us, and in inviting 
 the Roman people to embrace the cause of liberty, except to 
 insure the deliverance of Decimus Brutus ! For the Roman 
 people in crowds demanded at his hands the safety of Decimus 
 Brutus with such unanimous outcries, that he was compelled 
 to prefer it not only to any consideration of his own personal 
 advantage, but even to his own necessities. And that end 
 we now, O conscript fathers, are entitled to hope is either at 
 the point of being achieved, or is actually gained ; but it is 
 right for the reward of our hopes to be reserved for the issue 
 and event of the business, lest we should appear either to 
 have anticipated the kindness of the gods by our over precipi- 
 tation, or to have despised the bounty of fortune through our 
 own folly. 
 
 But since the manner of your behavior shows plainly enough 
 what vou think of this matter, I will come to the letters which 
 have arrived from the consuls and the propraetor, after I have 
 said a few words relating to the letters themselves. 
 
 III. The swords, O conscript fathers, of our legions and / 
 armies have been stained with, or rather, I should say, dipped 
 deep in blood in two battles which have taken place under 
 the consuls, and a third, which has been fought under the 
 command of Caesar. If it was the blood of enemies, then 
 great is the piety of the soldiers ; but it is nefarious wicked- 
 ness if it was the blood of citizens. How long, then, is that 
 man, who has surpassed all enemies in wickedness, to be 
 spared the name of enemy ? unless you wish to see the very 
 swords of our soldiers trembling in their hands while they 
 doubt whether they are piercing a citizen or an enemy. You 
 vote a supplication ; you do not call Antonius an enemy. 
 Very pleasing, indeed to the immortal gods will our thanks- 
 givings be, very pleasing too the victims, after a multitude of 
 our citizens has been slain ! " For the victory,'* says the pro- 
 poser of the supplication, "over wicked and audacious men." 
 For that is what this most illustrious man calls them; ex- 
 pressions of blame suited to lawsuits carried on in the city, 
 
500 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 not denunciations of searing infamy such as deserved by in- 
 ternecine war. I suppose they are forging wills, or trespass- 
 ing on their neighbors, or cheating some young men ; for it 
 is men implicated in these and similar practices that we are 
 in the habit of terming wicked and audacious. One man, 
 the foulest of all banditti, is waging an irreconcilable wai 
 against four consuls. He is at the same time carrying on 
 war against the senate and people of Rome. He is (although 
 he is himself hastening to destruction, through the disasters 
 which he has met with) threatening all of us with destruction, 
 and devastation, and torments, and tortures. He declares 
 that that inhuman and savage act of Dolabella's, which no 
 nation of barbarians would have owned, was done by his ad- 
 vice ; and what he himself would do in this city, if this very 
 Jupiter, who now looks down upon us assembled in his tem- 
 ple, had not repelled him from this temple and from these 
 walls, he showed, in the miseries of those inhabitants of Par- 
 ma, whom, virtuous and honorable men as they were, and 
 most intimately connected with the authority of this order, 
 and with the dignity of the Roman people, that villain and 
 monster, Lucius Antonius, that object of the extraordinary 
 detestation of all men, and (if the gods hate those whom they 
 ought) of all the gods also, murdered with every circumstance 
 of cruelty. My mind shudders at the recollection, O conscript 
 fathers, and shrinks from relating the cruelties which Lucius 
 Antonius perpetrated on the children and wives of the citizens 
 of Parma. For whatever infamy the Antonii have willingly 
 undergone in their own persons to their own infamy, they tri- 
 umph in the fact of having inflicted on others by violence. 
 But it is a miserable violence which they offered to them ; 
 most unholy lust, such as the whole life of the Antonii is pol- 
 luted with. 
 
 IV. Is there then any one who is afraid to call those men 
 enemies, whose wickedness he admits to have surpassed even 
 the inhumanity of the Carthaginians? For in what city, when 
 taken by storm, did Hannibal even behave with such ferocity 
 as Antonius did in Parma, which he filched by surprise? Un- 
 less, mayhap, Antonius is not to be considered the enemy of 
 this colony, and of the others toward which he is animated 
 with the same feelings. But if he is beyond all question the 
 enemy of the colonies and municipal towns, then what do you 
 consider him with respect to this city which he is so eager for, 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 501 
 
 to satiate the indigence of his band of robbers'? which that 
 skillful and experienced surveyor of his, Saxa, has already 
 marked out with his rule. Recollect, I entreat you, in the 
 name of the immortal gods, O conscript fathers, what we have 
 been fearing for the last two days, in consequence of infamous 
 rumors carefully disseminated by enemies within the walls. 
 Who has been able to look upon his children or upon his wife 
 without weeping ! who has been able to bear the sight of his 
 home, of his house, and his household gods 1 Already all of 
 us were expecting a most ignominious death, or meditating a 
 miserable flight. And shall we hesitate to call the men at 
 whose hands Ave feared all these things enemies? If any one 
 should propose a more severe designation I will willingly agree 
 to it ; I am hardly content with this ordinary one, and will 
 certainly not employ a more moderate one. 
 
 Therefore, as we are bound to vote, and as Servilius has al- 
 ready proposed a most just supplication for those letters which 
 have been read to you ; I will propose altogether to increase 
 . the number of the days which it is to last, especially as it is 
 to be decreed in honor of three generals conjointly. But first 
 of all I will insist on styling those men imperator by whose 
 valor, and wisdom, and good fortune we have been released 
 from the most imminent danger of slavery and death. Indeed, 
 who is there within the last twenty years who has had a sup- 
 plication decreed to him without being himself styled impera- 
 tor, though he may have performed the most insignificant ex- 
 ploits, or even almost none at all. Wherefore, the senator 
 who spoke before me ought either not to have moved for a 
 supplication at all, or he ought to have paid the usual a^d 
 established compliment to those men to whom even nswjfcdi. 
 extraordinary honors are justly due. d me . 
 
 V. Shall the senate, according to this custom ; e rs, not so 
 now obtained, style a man imperator if he has sliouky ■— nj a 
 sand or two of Spaniards, or Gauls, or Thraciai }- &a 4s 
 that so many legions have been routed, now that\ j * <? v^ ^ 
 titude of enemies has been slain, — ay, enemies,^ *V 4? 
 though our enemies within the city do not fancy th^^o^' 
 sion, — shall we pay to our most illustrious generals ty fy 
 of a supplication, and refuse them the name of im]K 
 For with what great honor, and joy, and exultation 
 the deliverers of this city themselves to enter into this 
 pie, when yesterday, on account of the exploits which xncy 
 
502 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 have performed, the Roman people carried me in an ovation, 
 almost in a triumph from my house to the Capitol, and back 
 again from the Capitol to my own house? That is indeed 
 in my opinion a just and genuine triumph, when men who 
 have deserved well of the republic receive public testimony 
 to their merits from the unanimous consent of the senate. 
 For if, at a time of general rejoicing on the part of the Ro- 
 man people, they addressed their congratulations to one in- 
 dividual, that is a great proof of their opinion of him ; if they 
 gave him thanks, that is a greater still ; if they did both, then 
 nothing more honorable to him can be possibly imagined. 
 
 Are you saying all this of yourself 1 ? some one will ask. It 
 is indeed against my will that I do so ; but my indignation at 
 injustice makes me boastful, contrary to my usual habit. Is 
 it not sufficient that thanks should not be given to men who 
 have well earned them, by men who are ignorant of the very 
 nature of virtue ? And shall accusations and odium be at- 
 tempted to be excited against those men who devote all their 
 thoughts to insuring the safety of the republic? For you 
 well know that there has been a common report for the last 
 few days, that the day before the wine feast, 1 that is to say, 
 on this very day, I was intending to come forth with the 
 fasces as dictator. One would think that this story was in- 
 vented against some gladiator, or robber, or Catiline, and not 
 against a man who had prevented any such step from ever 
 being taken in the republic. Was I, who defeated and over- 
 threw and crushed Catiline, when he was attempting such 
 wickedness, a likely man myself all on a sudden to turn out 
 Catiline ? Under what auspices could I, an augur, take those 
 un -?es? How long should I have been likely to keep them? 
 .out it was j ^ (j e ii V er them as my successor ? The idea of 
 most unhe, lvni g Dee n so wicked as to invent such a tale! or 
 luted with. Relieve it ! In what could such a suspicion, or 
 nn^ e, J^ ^gossip, have originated ? 
 5 ^ ^ o N ^^ c^n, as you know, during the last three or four days 
 ^ J $ ^ of bad news from Mutina has been creeping abroad, 
 ■sfcsloyal part of the citizens, inflated with exultation and 
 
 *9 
 
 <> 
 
 1 There were two wine feasts, Vinalia, at Rome : the vinalia urbana, 
 celebrated on the twenty-third of April ; and the vinalia rustica, on the 
 nineteenth of October. This was the urbana vinalia ; on which occasion 
 the wine-casks which had been tilled in the autumn were tasted for the 
 lir.it time. 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 503 
 
 insolence, began to collect in one place, at that senate-house 
 which has been more fatal to their party than to the republic. 
 There, while they were forming a plan to massacre us, and 
 were distributing the different duties among one another, and 
 settling who was to seize on the Capitol, who on the rostra, 
 who on the gates of the city, they thought that all the citizens 
 would flock to me. And in order to bring me into unpopu- 
 larity, and even into danger of my life, they spread abroad 
 this report about the fasces. They themselves had some idea 
 of bringing the fasces to my house ; and then, on pretense of 
 that having been done by my wish, they had prepared a band 
 of hired ruffians to make an attack on me as on a tyrant, and 
 a massacre of all of you was intended to follow. The fact is 
 already notorious, O conscript fathers, but the origin of all 
 this wickedness will be revealed in its fitting time. 
 
 Therefore Fublius Apuleius, a tribune of the people, who 
 ever since my consulship has been the witness and partaker 
 of, and my assistant in all my designs and all my dangers, 
 could not endure the grief of witnessing my indignation. He 
 convened a numerous assembly, as the whole Roman people 
 were animated with one feeling on the subject. And when 
 in the harangue which he then made, he, as was natural from 
 our great intimacy and friendship, was going to exculpate me 
 from all supicion in the matter of the fasces, the whole as- 
 sembly cried out with one voice, that I had never had any 
 intentions with regard to the republic which were not excel- 
 lent. After this assembly was over, within two or three 
 hours, these most welcome messengers and letters arrived ; 
 so that the same day not only delivered me from a most un- 
 just odium, but increased my credit by that most extraordi- 
 nary act with which the Roman people distinguished me. 
 
 I have made this digression, O conscript fathers, not so 
 much for the sake of speaking of myself (for I should be in a 
 sorry plight if I were not sufficiently acquitted in your eyes 
 without the necessity of making a formal defense), as with 
 the view of warning some men of too groveling and narrow 
 minds, to adopt the line of conduct which I myself have al- 
 ways pursued, and to think the virtue of excellent citizens 
 -worthy of imitation, not of envy. There is a great field in 
 the republic, as Crassus used very wisely to say ; the road to 
 glory is open to many. 
 
 VII. Would that those great men were still alive, who, 
 
501 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 after my consulship, when I myself was willing to yield to 
 them, were themselves desirous to see me in the post of leader. 
 But at the present moment, when there is such a dearth of 
 wise and fearless men of consular rank, how great do you not 
 suppose must be my grief and indignation, when I see some 
 men absolutely disaffected to the republic, others wholly in- 
 different to every thing, others incapable of persevering with 
 any firmness in the cause which they have espoused ; and 
 regulating their opinions not always by the advantage of the 
 republic, but sometimes by hope, and sometimes by fear. 
 But if any one is anxious and inclined to struggle for the 
 leadership — though struggle there ought to be none — he acts 
 very foolishly, if he proposes to combat virtue with vices. 
 For as speed is only outstripped by speed, so among brave 
 men virtue is only surpassed by virtue. Will you, if I am 
 full of excellent sentiments with respect to the republic, adopt 
 the worst possible sentiments yourself for the purpose of ex- 
 celling me! Or if you see a race taking place for the ac- 
 quisition of honors, will you summon all the wicked men you 
 can find to your banner? I should be sorry for you to do 
 so ; first of all, for the sake of the republic, and secondly, for 
 that of your own dignity. But if the leadership of the state 
 were at stake, which I have never coveted, what could be 
 more desirable for me than such conduct on your part ? For 
 it is impossible that I should be defeated by wicked sentiments 
 and measures, — by good ones perhaps I might be, and I will- 
 ingly would be. 
 
 Some people are vexed that the Roman people should see, 
 and take notice of, and form their opinion on these matters* 
 Was it possible for men not to form their opinion of each in- 
 dividual as he deserved? For as the Roman people forma a 
 most correct judgment of the entire senate, thinking that at 
 no period in the history of the republic was this order ever 
 more firm or more courageous; so also they all inquire dili- 
 gently concerning every individual among us; and especially 
 in the case of those among us who deliver our sentiments at 
 length in this place, they are anxious to know what those 
 sentiments are ; and in that way they judge of each one of 
 us, as they think that he deserws. They recollect that on 
 the nineteenth of December I was the main cause of recover- 
 ing our freedom ; that from the first of January to this hour I 
 have never ceased watching over the republic; that day and 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 505 
 
 nitrbt my house and my ears have been open to the instruction 
 and admonition of every one ; that it has been by my letters, 
 and my messengers, and my exhortations, that all men in 
 every part of the empire have been roused to the protection 
 of our country ; that it is owing to the open declaration of 
 my opinion ever since the first of January, that no embas- 
 sadors have been ever sent to Antonius ; that I have always 
 called him a public enemy, and this a war ; so that I, who on 
 every occasion have been the adviser of genuine peace, have 
 been a determined enemy to this pretense of fatal peace. 
 
 Have not I also at all times pronounced Ventidius an en- 
 smy, when others wished to call him a tribune of the peo- 
 ple 1 If the consuls had chosen to divide the senate on my 
 opinion, their arms would long since have been wrested from 
 the hands of all those robbers by the positive authority of the 
 senate. 
 
 VIII. But what could not be done then, O conscript fathers, 
 at present not only can be, but even must be done. I mean, 
 those men who are in reality enemies must be branded in 
 plain language, must be declared enemies by our formal reso- 
 lution. Formerly, when I used the words War or Enemy, 
 men more than once objected to record my proposition among 
 the other propositions. But that can not be done on the 
 present occasion. For in consequence of the letters of Caius 
 Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, the consuls, and of Caius Caesar, 
 propraetor, we have all voted that honors be paid to the im- 
 mortal gods. The very man who lately proposed and carried 
 a vote for a supplication, without intending it pronounced 
 those men enemies ; for a supplication has never been decreed 
 for success in civil war. Decreed, do I say? It has never 
 even been asked for in the letters of the conqueror. Sylla as 
 consul carried on a civil war ; he led his legions into the city 
 and expelled whomsoever he chose; he slew those whom he 
 had in his power : there was no mention made of any suppli- 
 cation. The violent war with Octavius followed. Cinna the 
 conqueror had no supplication voted to him. Sylla as im- 
 perator revenged the victory of Cinna, still no supplication 
 was decreed by the senate. I ask you yourself, O Publius 
 Servilius, did your colleague send you any letters concerning 
 that most lamentable battle of Pharsalia ? Did he wish you 
 to make any motion about a supplication'? Certainly not. 
 But he did afterward when he took Alexandria : when he d»- 
 
 Y 
 
506 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 feated Pharnaces ; but for the battle of Pharsalia he did not 
 even celebrate a triumph. For that battle had destroyed those 
 citizens whose, I will not say lives, but even whose victory 
 might have been quite compatible with the safety and prosper- 
 ity of the state. And the same thing had happened in the 
 previous civil wars. For though a supplication was decreed in 
 my honor when I was consul, though no arms had been had 
 recourse to at all, still that was voted by a new and wholly 
 unprecedented kind of decree, not for the slaughter of enemies, 
 but for the preservation of the citizens. Wherefore, a suppli- 
 cation on account of the atfairs of the republic having been suc- 
 cessfully conducted must, O conscript fathers, be refused by 
 you even though your generals demand it ; a stigma which 
 has never been affixed on any one except Gabinius ; or else, 
 by the mere fact of decreeing a supplication, it is quite inevi- 
 table that you must pronounce those men, for whose defeat you 
 do decree it, enemies of the state. 
 
 IX. What then Servilius did in effect, I do in express 
 terms, when I style those men imperators. By using this 
 name, I pronounce those who have been already defeated, and 
 those who still remain, enemies in calling their conquerors im- 
 perators. For what title can I more suitably bestow on Pan- 
 sa % Though he has, indeed, the title of the highest honor in 
 the republic. What, too, shall I call Hirtius? He, indeed, 
 is consul ; but this latter title is indicative of the kindness of 
 the Roman people; the other of valor and victory. What? 
 Shall I hesitate to call Caesar imperator, a man born for the 
 republic by the express kindness of the gods? He who was 
 the first man who turned aside the savage and disgraceful 
 cruelty of Antonius, not only from our throats, but from our 
 limbs and bowels? What numerous and what important vir- 
 tues, O ye immortal gods, were displayed on that single day. 
 For Pansa was the leader of all in engaging in battle and in 
 combating with Antonius; O general worthy of the Martial 
 legfm, legion worthy of its general! Indeed, if he had been 
 able to restrain its irresistible impetuosity, the whole war 
 would have been terminated by that one battle. But as the 
 legion, eager for liberty, had rushed with too much precipita- 
 tion against the enemy's iin^ of battle, and as Pansa himself 
 was fighting in the front ranks, lie received two dangerous 
 wounds, and was borne out of *he battle, to preserve his life 
 for the republic. But T pronounce -him not only imperator, 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 507 
 
 but a most illustrious imperator ; who, as he had pledged him- 
 self to discharge his duty to the republic either by death or by 
 victory, has fulfilled one half of his promise ; may the immor- 
 tal gods prevent the fulfillment of the other half! 
 
 X. Why need I speak of Hirtius? who, the moment he 
 heard of what was going on, with incredible promptness and 
 courage led forth two legions out of the camp ; that noble 
 fourth legion, which, having deserted Antonius, formerly united 
 itself to the Martial legion; and the seventh, which, eonsi 
 ing wholly of veterans, gave proof in that battle that 
 name of the senate and people of Rome was dear to I 
 diers who preserved the recollection of the kindness of ( a sar. 
 With these twenty cohorts, with no cavalry, while Hirtius 
 himself was bearing the eagle of the fourth legion, — and we 
 never heard of a more noble office being assumed by any gen- 
 eral, — he fought with the three legions of Antonius and with 
 his cavalry, and overthrew, and routed, and put to the sword 
 those impious men who were the real enemies to this temple 
 of the all-good and all-powerful Jupiter, and to the rest of the 
 temples of the immortal gods, and the houses of the city, and 
 the freedom of the Eoman people, and our lives and actual ex. 
 istence ; so that that chief and leader of robbers fled away wiih 
 a very few followers, concealed by the darkness of night, and 
 frightened out of all his senses. 
 
 Oh what a most blessed day was that, which, while the car- 
 casses of those parricidal traitors were strewed about every 
 where, beheld Antonius riving with a few followers, before he 
 reached his place of concealment. 
 
 But will any one hesitate to call Caesar imperatoi 
 certainly his age will not deter any one from agreeing to this 
 proposition, since he has gone beyond his age in virtue. And 
 to me, indeed, the services of Caius Caesar have always ap- 
 peared the more thankworthy, in proportion as tl 
 less to have been expected from a man of his age. For wher 
 we conferred military command on him, we were in en- 
 
 couraging the hope with which his name inspired us; and 
 now that he has fulfilled those hopes, he has sanctioned I 
 authority of our decree by his exploits. This young man of 
 great mind, as Hirtius most truly calls him in his letters, 
 with a few cohorts defended the camp of many legions, and 
 fought a successful battle. And in this manner the republic 
 has on one day been preserved in many places by the valor, 
 
508 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and wisdom, and good fortune of three imperators of the Ro- 
 man people. 
 
 XI. I therefore propose supplications of fifty days in the 
 joint names of the three. The reasons I will embrace in the 
 words of the resolution, using the most honorable language 
 that I can devise. 
 
 But it becomes our good faith and our piety to show plain- 
 ly to our most gallant soldiers how mindful of their services 
 and how grateful for them we arc ; and accordingly I give my 
 vote that our promises, and those pledges too which we prom- 
 ised to bestow on the legions when the war was finished, be 
 repeated in the resolution which we are going to pass this 
 day. For it is quite fair that the honor of the soldiers, es- 
 pecially of such soldiers as those, should be united with that 
 of their commanders. And I wish, O conscript fathers, that 
 it was lawful for us to dispense rewards to all the citizens ,- 
 although we will give those which we have promised with 
 the most careful usury. But that remains, as I well hope, 
 to the conquerors, to whom the faith of the senate is pledged; 
 and, as they have adhered to it at a most critical period of 
 the republic, we are bound to take care that they never have 
 cause to repent of their conduct. But it is easy for us to 
 deal fairly by those men whose very services, though mute, 
 appear to demand our liberality. Tins is a much more praise- 
 worthy and more important duty, to pay a proper tribute of 
 grateful recollection to the valor of those men who have shed 
 their blood in the cause of their countrv. And I wish more 
 suggestions could occur to me in the way of doinsr honor to 
 those men. The two ideas which principally do occur to me, 
 I will at all events not pass over; the one of which has refer- 
 ence to the everlasting glory of those bravest of men ; the oth- 
 er may tend to mitigate the sorrow and mourning of their re- 
 lations. 
 
 XII. I therefore give my vote, O conscript fathers, that 
 the most honorable monument possible be erected to the sol- 
 diers of the Martial legion, and to those soldiers also who 
 died fighting by their side. Great and incredible are the serv- 
 ices done by this legion to the republic. This was the first 
 legion to tear itself from the piratical band of Antonius; this 
 was the legion which encamped at Alba; this was the legion 
 that went over to Caesar; and it was in imitation of the con- 
 duct of this legion that the fourth legion lias earned almost 
 

 THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 509 
 
 equal glory for its virtue. The fourth is victorious without 
 having lost a man ; some of the Martial legion fell in the 
 very moment of victory. Oh happy death, which, due to na 
 ture, has been paid in the cause of one's country ! But I con- 
 sider you men born for your country ; you whose very name 
 is derived from Mars, so that the same god who begot this 
 city for the advantage of the nations, appears to have begotten 
 you for the advantage of this city. Death in flight is infa-. 
 mous ; in victory glorious. In truth, Mars himself seems to 
 select all the bravest men from the battle array. Those im- 
 pious men whom you slew, shall even in the shad - I clow 
 pay the penalty of their parricidal treason. But you, who 
 have poured forth your latest breath in victory, have earn 
 an abode and place among the pious. A brief life 
 allotted to us by nature ; but the memory of a well-spent life 
 is imperishable. And if that memory were no longer than 
 this life, who would be so senseless as to strive to attain even 
 the highest praise and glory by the most enormous labors and 
 dangers ? 
 
 You then have fared most admirably, being the bravest of 
 soldiers while you lived, and now the most holy of warriors, 
 because it will be impossible for your virtue to be buried, 
 either through the forgetfulness of the men of the present age, 
 or the silence of posterity, since the senate and Ronu people 
 will have raised to you an imperishable monument. J may 
 almost say with their own hands. Many armies a 
 times have been great and illustrious in the Punic, and Gallic, 
 and Italian wars ; but to none of them have honors been paid 
 of the description which are now conferred on you. And 1 
 wish that we could pay you even greater honors, since we 
 received from you the greatest possible services. You it was 
 who turned aside the furious Ant cuius from this city ; you it 
 was who repelled him when endeavoring to return. There 
 shall therefore be a vast monument erected with The most 
 sumptuous work, and an inscription engraved upon it, as the 
 everlasting witness of your godlike virtue. And never shall 
 the most grateful language of all who either see or hear of your 
 monument cease to be heard. And in this manner you, in 
 exchange for your mortal condition of life, nave attained im- 
 mortality. 
 
 XIII. But since, O conscript fathers, the gift of glory 
 conferred on these most excellent and gallant citizens by the 
 
510 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 honor of a monument, let us comfort their relations, to whom 
 this indeed is the best consolation. The greatest comfort for 
 their parents is the reflection that they have produced sons 
 who have been such bulwarks of the republic ; for their chil- 
 dren, that they will have such examples of virtue in their fam- 
 ily ; for their wives, that the husbands whom they have lost 
 are men whom it is a credit to praise, and to have a right to 
 mourn for ; and for their brothers, that they may trust that, 
 as they resemble them in their persons, so they do also in their 
 virtues. 
 
 Would that we were able by the expression of our senti- 
 ments and by our votes to wipe away the tears of all these 
 persons ; or that any such oration as this could be publicly 
 addressed to them, to cause them to lay aside their grief and 
 mourning, and to rejoice rather, that, while many various 
 kinds of death impend over men, the most honorable kind of 
 all has fallen to the lot of their friends ; and that they are 
 not unburied, nor deserted ; though even that fate, when in- 
 curred for one's country, is not accounted miserable ; nor 
 burned with equable obsequies in scattered graves, but en- 
 tombed in honorable sepulchres, and honored with public of- 
 ferings ; and with a building which will be an altar of their 
 valor to insure the recollection of eternal ages. 
 
 Wherefore it will be the greatest possible comfort to their 
 relations, that by the same monument are clearly displayed the 
 valor of their kinsmen, and also their piety, and the good faith 
 of the senate, and the memory of this most inhuman war, in 
 which, if the valor of the soldiers had been less conspicuous, 
 the very name of the Koman people would have perished by 
 the parricidal treason of Marcus Antonius. And I think also, 
 O conscript fathers, that those rewards which we promised to 
 bestow on the soldiers when we had recovered the republic, 
 we should give with abundant usury to those who are alive 
 and victorious when the time comes ; and that in the case of 
 the men to whom those rewards were promised, but who have 
 died in the defense of their country, I think those same re- 
 wards should be given to their parents or children, or wives or 
 brothers. 
 
 XIV. But that I may reduce my sentiments into a formal 
 motion, I give my vote that, 
 
 "As Caius Pansa, consul, imperator, set the example of 
 fighting with the enemy in a battle in which the Martial le- 
 
THE FOURTEENTH PHILIPPIC. 511 
 
 gion defended the freedom of the Roman people with admira- 
 ble and incredible valor, and the legions of the recruits be- 
 haved equally well ; and as Caius Pansa, consul, imperator, 
 while engaged in the middle of the ranks of the enemy receiv- 
 ed wounds ; and as Aulus Hirtius, consul, imperator, the mo- 
 ment that he heard of the battle, and knew what was going 
 on, with a most gallant and loyal soul, led his army out of his 
 camp and attacked Marcus Antonius and his army, and put 
 his troops to the sword, with so little injury to his own army 
 that he did not lose one single man ; and as Caius Caesar, 
 propraetor, imperator, with great prudence and energy defend- 
 ed the camp successfully, and routed and put to the sword the 
 forces of the enemy which had come near the camp : 
 
 " On these accounts the senate thinks and declares that the "* 
 Roman people has been released from the most disgraceful and 
 cruel slavery by the valor, and military skill, and prudence, 
 and firmness, and perseverance, and greatness of mind and 
 good fortune of these their generals. And decrees that, as 
 they have preserved the republic, the city, the temples of the 
 immortal gods, the property and fortunes and families of all 
 the citizens, by their own exertions in battle, and at the risk 
 of their own lives ; on account of these virtuous and gallant 
 and successful achievements, Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, 
 the consuls, imperators, one or both of them, or, in their ab- 
 sence, Marcus Cornutus, the city praetor, shall appoint a sup- 
 plication at all the altars for fifty days. And as the valor of $¥ 
 the legions has shown itself worthy of their most illustrious 
 generals, the senate will with great eagerness, now that the 
 republic is recovered, bestow on our legions and armies all the 
 rewards which it formerly promised them. And as the Mar- 
 tial legion was the first to engage with the enemy, and fought 
 in such a manner against superior numbers as to slay many 
 and take some prisoners; and as they shed their blood for 
 their country without any shrinking; and as the soldiers of 
 the other legions encountered death with similar valor in de- 
 fense of the safety and freedom of the Roman people ; — the 
 senate does decree that Caius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, the 
 consuls, imperators, one or both of them if it seems good to 
 them, see to the issuing of a contract for, and to the 
 
 erecting, the most honorable possible monument to those men 
 who shed their blood for the lives and liberties and fortunes 
 of the -Sioman people, and for the city and temples of the im' 
 
512 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 mortal gods ; that for that purpose they shall order the city 
 quaestors to furnish and pay money, in order that it may be 
 a witness for the everlasting recollection of posterity of the 
 wickedness of our most cruel enemies, and the godlike valor 
 of our soldiers. And that the rewards which the senate pre- 
 viously appointed for the soldiers, be paid to the parents or 
 children, or wives or brothers of those men who in this war 
 have fallen in defense of their country ; and that all honors be 
 bestowed on them which should have been bestowed on the 
 soldiers themselves, if those men had lived who gained the 
 victory by their death/' 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE SECOND PLEADING IN THE 
 PROSECUTION OF VERRES. 
 
 ABOUT THE STATUES. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT, 
 
 The subject of this oration is the manner in which Yerres had plundered 
 not only private individuals, but even some temples, of valuable stat- 
 ues, and other works of art. Among the instances given some of the 
 most prominent are the plunder of Heius, a Messanian ; of Philarchus, 
 or Centuripa ; of several other private citizens ; of Antiochus, the king ; 
 and of the temples of Diana, Mercury, and Ceres. A French transla- 
 tor in commenting on this oration says, with reference to the slighting 
 way in which Cicero speaks of the works of art thus stolen : " The 
 Romans struggled for some time against the seductive power of the 
 arts of Greece, to which for many ages they were strangers. At first 
 they really did despise them ; afterward they affected to despise them ; 
 but at last they were forced to bow the head beneath the brilliant yoke 
 of luxury ; and Greece, industrious, learned, and polite, subdued by the 
 admiration which it extorted, the ignorant, unlettered, and rude bar- 
 barians who had conquered her by force. Faithful to the ancient max- 
 ims of the republic, Cicero in this oration speaks only with a sort of 
 disdain of the arts and works of the most famous artists. He even pre- 
 tends sometimes not to be too well acquainted with the names of the 
 most celebrated statuaries ; he often repeats, and with a kind of affec- 
 tation, that he knows very little of painting or sculpture ; and rather 
 _p_rides himself, as one may say, on his ignorance. He seems to regard 
 a taste for art as unworthy of the Romans, and the finest chefs d'uvrrr 
 as children's toys, fit to amuse the trifling and frivolous minds of the 
 Greeks, whose name he usually expresses by a contemptuous dimin- 
 utive (Graculi), but little calculated to fix the attention, or attract tb» 
 esteem or wishes of a Roman mind. 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 513 
 
 ****** * 
 
 In general there runs through these orations a tone more calculated to 
 render Verres ridiculous, than to make one feel how much there was 
 in all his attempts which was odious and horrible. The orator even 
 permitted himself some pleasantries, for which his taste has been, per- 
 haps too severely, called in question. Cicero bad no dislike to puns, 
 and has played a "good deal on the name of Verres, which means a boar. 
 He_jataS-Joo eager to acquire the reputation of a wit. It is true that 
 the person of Verres was sufficiently inviting as a subject for ridicule. 
 He was one of those gross men overloaded with fat, in whom the bulk 
 of body appears to stifle all delicacy of moral feeling. As he had tried 
 to carry off a statue of Hercules which his people could with difficulty 
 move upon its pedestal, Cicero calls this the thirteenth of the labors of 
 Hercules. And playing continually on the name oi Verres, he com- 
 pares him to the boar of Erymanthus. At another time he calls him 
 the drag-net of Sicily, because the name Verres has some resemblance 
 to the word everriuclum, which signifies a drag-net.'' 
 Hortensius endeavored to defend Verres from the charge of having stolen 
 these statues, &c, of which he admits that he had become the possess- 
 or, by contending that he had bought them. But it was contrary to the 
 laws for a magistrate to purchase any such articles in his province ; 
 and Cicero shows also that the prices alleged to have been given are 
 so wholly disproportionate to their value, that it is ridiculous to assert 
 that the things had been purchased and not taken by force. 
 
 I. I come now to what Verres himself calls his passion ; 
 what his friends call his disease, his madness ; what the Si- 
 cilians call his rapine ; what I am to call it, 1 know not. I 
 will state the whole affair to you, and do you consider it ac- 
 cording to its own importance and not by the importance of 
 its name. First of all, O judges, suffer me to make you ac- 
 quainted with the description of this conduct of his; and 
 then, perhaps, you will not be very much puzzled to know by 
 what name to call it. I say that in all Sicily, in all that 
 wealthy and ancient province, that in that number of towns 
 and families of such exceeding riches, there was no silver ves- 
 sel, no Corinthian or Delian plate, no jewel or pearl, nothing 
 made of gold or ivory, no statue of marble or brass or ivory, 
 no picture whether painted or embroidered, that he did not 
 seek out, that he did not inspect, that, if he liked it, he did not 
 take away. I seem to be making a very extensive charge ; 
 listen now to the manner in which I make it. For I am not 
 embracing every thing in one charge for the sake of making 
 an impression, or of exaggerating his guilt. When I pay that 
 he left nothing whatever of the sort in the whole province, 
 know that I am speaking according to the strict waning of 
 the words, and not in the spirit of an accuser, i *vill speak 
 
 Y2 
 
614 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 even more plainly ; I will say that he has left nothing in any 
 one's house, nothing even in the towns, nothing in public 
 places, not even in the temples, nothing in the possession of 
 any Sicilian, nothing in the possession of any Roman citizen ; 
 that he has left nothing, in short, which either came before 
 his eyes or was suggested to his mind, whether private prop- 
 erty or public, or profane or sacred, in all Sicily. 
 
 Where then shall I begin rather than with that city which 
 was above all others in your affection, and which was your 
 chosen place of enjoyment? or with what class of men rather 
 than with your flatterers ? For by that means it will be the 
 more easily seen how you behaved among those men who hate 
 you, who accuse you, who will not let you rest, when you are 
 proved to have plundered among the Mamertines, who are 
 your friends, in the most infamous manner. 
 
 II. Caius Heius is a Mamertine — all men will easily grant 
 me this who have ever been to Messana ; the most accomplished 
 man in every point of view in all that city. His house is the 
 very best in all Messana, — most thoroughly known, most con- 
 stantly open, most especially hospitable to all our fellow-citi- 
 zens. That house before the arrival of Verres was so splendidly 
 adorned, as to be an ornament even to the city. For Messana 
 itself, which is admirable on account of its situation, its forti- 
 fications, and its harbor, is very empty and bare of those things 
 in which Verres delights. There was in the house of Heius a 
 private chapel of great sacredness, handed down to him from 
 his ancestors, very ancient ; in which he had four very beautiful 
 statues, made with the greatest skill, and of very high charac- 
 ter; calculated not only to delight Verres, that clever and 
 accomplished man, but even any one of us whom he calls the 
 mob : — one, a statue of Cupid, in marble, a work of Praxiteles ; 
 for in truth, while I have been inquiring into that man's con- 
 duct, I have learned the names of the workmen ; it was the 
 same workman, as I imagine, who made that celebrated Cupid 
 of the same figure as this which is at Thespiae, on account of 
 which people go to see Thespian, for there is no other reason 
 for going to see it ; and therefore that great man Lucius 
 Mummius, when he carried away from that town the statues 
 of the Muses which are now before the temple of Good For- 
 , tune, and the other statues which were nut consecrated, did 
 not touch this marble Cupid, because it had been consecrated. 
 III. But to return to that private chapel ; there was this 
 
AGAINST VERRES 515 
 
 statue, which I am speaking of, of Cupid, made of marble. On 
 the other side there was a Hercules, beautifully made of brass ; 
 that was said to be the work of Myron, as I believe, and it 
 undoubtedly was so. Also before those gods there were lit- 
 tle altars, which might indicate to any one the holiness of the 
 chapel. There were besides two brazen statues, of no very 
 great size, but of marvelous beauty, in the dress and robes of 
 virgins, which with uplifted hands were supporting some sa- 
 cred vessels which were placed on their heads, after the fashion 
 of the Athenian virgins. They were called the Canephorce, 
 but their maker was .... (who ? who was he ? thank you, 
 you are quite right), they called him Polycletus. Whenever 
 any one of our citizens went to Messana, he used to go and 
 see these statues. They were open every day for people to go 
 to see them. The house was not more an ornament to its 
 master, than it was to the city. 
 
 Caius Claudius, whose aBdileship we know to have been a 
 most splendid affair, used this statue of Cupid, as long as he 
 kept the forum decorated in honor of the immortal gods and 
 the Roman people. And as he was connected by ties of hos- 
 pitality with the Heii, and was the patron of the Mamertine 
 people, — as he availed himself of their kindness to lend him 
 this, so he was careful to restore it. There have lately been 
 noble men of the same kind, O judges ; — why do I say lately? 
 Ay, we have seen some veiy lately, a very little while ago 
 indeed, who have adorned the forum and the public buildings, 
 not with the spoils of the provinces, but with ornaments be- 
 longing to their friends, — with splendid things lent by their own 
 connections, not with the produce of the thefts of guilty men, 
 — and who afterward have restored the statues and decorations, 
 each to its proper owner ; men who have not taken things 
 away out of the cities of our allies for the sake of a four-day 
 festival, under pretense of the shows to be exhibited in their 
 asdileship, and after that carried them off to their own homes, 
 and their own villas. All these statues which I have mention- 
 ed, O judges, Verres took away from Heius, out of his private 
 chapel. He left, I say, not one of those things, nor any thing 
 else, except one old wooden figure, — Good Fortune, as I be- 
 lieve ; that, forsooth, he did not choose to have in his house! 
 
 IV. Oh ! for the good faith of gods and men ! What is the 
 meaning of all this / What a cause is this! What impudence 
 is this ! The statues which I am speaking of, before they were 
 
516 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 taken away by you, no commander ever came to Mcssana with- 
 out seeing. So many praetors, so many consuls as there have 
 been in Sicily, in time of peace, and in time of war ; so many 
 men of every sort as there have been — I do not speak of up- 
 right, innocent, conscientious men, but so many covetous, so 
 many audacious, so many infamous men as there have been, 
 not one of them all was violent enough, or seemed to himself 
 powerful enough or noble enough, to venture to ask for, or to 
 take away, or even to touch any thing in that chapel. Shall 
 Verres take away every thing which is most beautiful every 
 where? Shall it not be allowed to any one besides to have 
 any thing'? Shall that one house of his contain so many 
 wealthy houses'? Was it for this reason that none of his pred- 
 ecessors ever touched these things, that he might be able to 
 carry them off? Was this the reason why Caius Claudius 
 Pulcher restored them, that Caius Verres might be able to 
 steal them ? But that Cupid had no wish for the house of a 
 pimp and the establishment of a harlot ; he was quite content 
 to stay in that chapel where he was hereditary ; he knew that 
 he had been left to Heius by his ancestors, with the rest of the 
 sacred things which he inherited ; he did not require the heir 
 of a prostitute. But why am 1 borne on so impetuously? I 
 shall in a moment be refuted by one word. "I bought it," 
 says he. O ye immortal gods, what a splendid defense ! we 
 sent a broker into the province with military command and 
 with the forces, to buy up all the statues, all the paintings, 
 all the silver plate and gold plate, and ivory, and jewels, and 
 to leave nothing to any body. For this defense seems to me 
 to be got ready for every thing ; that he bought them. In 
 the first place, if I should grant to you that which you wish, 
 namely, that you bought them, since against all this class of 
 accusations you are going to use this defense alone, I ask what 
 sort of tribunals you thought that there would be at Rome, 
 if you thought that any one would grant you this, that you in 
 your praetorship and in your command 1 bought up so many 
 
 1 The Latin word is imperium., " Imperium (as opposed to Potestas) is 
 the power which was conferred by the state upon an individual who was 
 appointed to command an army. . . . The imperium was as necessary lor 
 the governor of a province, as" for a general who merely commanded the 
 armies of the republic . as without it he could not exercise military au- 
 thority. ... It was conferred by a special law, and was limited, it' not hy 
 the terms in which it was conferred, at least by usage. It could not be 
 held or exercised within the city." — Smith. Diet. Ant. p. .508. v ImpcriuJn 
 
AGAINST VERRES 517 
 
 and such valuable things, — every thing, in short, which was 
 of any value in the whole province. 
 
 V. Remark the care of our ancestors, who as yet suspected 
 no sucli conduct as this, but yet provided against the things 
 which might happen in affairs of small importance. They 
 thought that no one who had gone as governor 1 or as lieuten- 
 ant into a province would be so insane as to buy silver, for 
 that was given him out of the public funds ; or raiment, for 
 that was afforded him by the laws; they thought he might 
 buy a slave, a thing which we all use, and which is not pro- 
 vided by the laws. They made a law, therefore, "that no one 
 should buy a slave except in the room of a slave who was 
 dead." If any slave had died at Rome ? No, if any one had 
 died in the place where his master was. For they did not 
 mean you to furnish your house in the province, but to be of 
 use to the province in its necessities. What was the reason 
 why they so carefully kept us from making purchases in the 
 provinces? This was it, O judges, because they thought it a 
 robbery, not a purchase, when the seller was not allowed to 
 sell on his own terms. And they were aware that, in the 
 provinces, if he who was there with the command and power 1 
 of a governor wished to purchase what was in any one's pos- 
 session, and was allowed to do so, it would come to pass that 
 he would set whatever he chose, whether it was to be sold or 
 not, at whatever price he pleased. Some one will say, " Do 
 not deal with Yerres in that manner ; do not try and exam- 
 ine his actions by the standard of old-fashioned conscientious- 
 ness ; allow him to have bought them without being punish- 
 ed for it, provided he bought them in a fair way. not through 
 any arbitrary exercise of power, nor from any one against his 
 will, or by violence." I will so deal with him. If Heius had 
 any thing for sale, if he sold it for the price at which he val- 
 ued it, I give up inquiring why you bought it. 
 
 1 The Latin word in each case is potcstas. ' ; According to Paulus, 
 potestas, as applied to a magistrate, is equivalent to impeiium. . . . But 
 potestas is applied to magistrates who had not the imperium, as, for in- 
 stance, to quaestors and tribunes of the people : and potestas and impe- 
 rium are often opposed in Cicero. Thus it seems that potestas, like m 
 other Roman terms, had both a wider cation and a narrower on* ; 
 
 in its wider signification it might mean ad the power that was delegated 
 to any person by the state, whatever might be the extent of that power ; 
 in its narrower signification, it was on the one hand equivalent to impe- 
 rium, and on the other it expressed the power of those functionaries who 
 had not the imperium." — Smith, Diet. Ant. p. 721, v. Potestas. 
 
518 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 VI. What then are we to do? Are we to use arguments in 
 a case of this sort? We must ask, I suppose, whether Ileius 
 was in debt, whether he had an auction, — if he had, whether 
 he was in such difficulties about money matters, whether he 
 was oppressed by such want, by such necessity, as to strip his 
 private chapel, to sell his paternal gods. But I see that the 
 man had no auction ; that he never sold any thing except the 
 produce of his land; that he not only had no debts, but that 
 he had always abundance of ready money. Even if all these 
 things were contrary to what I say they were, still I say that 
 he would not have sold tilings which had been so many years 
 in the household and chapel of his ancestors. "What will 
 you say if he was persuaded by the greatness of the sum given 
 him for them?" It is not probable that a man, rich as he 
 was, honorable as he was, should have preferred money to his 
 own religious feelings and to the memorials of his ancestors. 
 " That may be, yet men are sometimes led away from their 
 habits and principles by large sums of money." Let us see, 
 then, how great a sum this was which could turn Ileius, a 
 man of exceeding riches, by no means covetous, away from 
 decency, from affection, and from religion. You ordered him, 
 I suppose, to enter in his account-books, "All these statues 
 of Praxiteles, of Myron, of Polycletus, were sold to Verres for 
 six thousand five hundred sesterces." Read the extracts from 
 his accounts — 
 
 [ The accounts of Ileius are read.~\ 
 
 I am delighted that the illustrious names of these workmen, 
 ^hom those men extol to the skies, have fallen so low in the 
 estimation of Verres — the Cupid of Praxiteles for sixteen hun- 
 dred sesterces. From that forsooth has come the proverb, "I 
 had rather buy it than ask for it." 
 
 VII. Some one will say, "What ! do you value those things 
 at a very high price?" But I am not valuing them according 
 to any calculation of my own, or any need which I have for 
 them ; but I think that the matter ought to be looked at by 
 ;• u in this light, — what is the value of these things in the 
 i inion of those men who are judges of these things; at what 
 price they are accustomed to be sold; at what price these 
 very things could be sold, if they were sold openly and free- 
 ly ; lastly, at what price Verres himself values them. For he 
 would never have been so foolish, if he had thought that Cu- 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 510 
 
 pid worth only four hundred denarii, as to allow himself w 
 be made a subject for the common conversation and general 
 reproach of men. "Who then of you all is ignorant at how 
 great a price these things are valued ? Have we not seen at 
 an auction a brazen statue of no great size sold for a hundred 
 and twenty thousand sesterces I What if I were to choose to 
 name men who have bought similar things for no less a price, 
 or even for a higher one? Can I not do so? In truth, the 
 only limit to the valuation of such things is the desire which 
 any one has for them, for it is difficult to set bounds to the 
 price unless you first set bounds to the wish. I see then that 
 Heius was neither led by his inclination, nor by any tempo- 
 rary difficulties, nor by the greatness of the sum given, to sell 
 these statues ; and that you, under the pretense of purchase 
 which you put forward, in reality seized and took away these 
 things by force, through fear, by your power and authority, 
 from that man, whom, along with the rest of our allies in 
 that country, the Roman people had intrusted not only to 
 your power, but also to your upright exercise of it. What 
 can there be, judges, so desirable for me in making this charge, 
 as that Heius should say this same thing? Nothing certain- 
 ly ; but let us not wish for what is difficult to be obtained- 
 Heius is a Mamertine. The state of the Mamertines alone, 
 by a common resolution, praises that man in the name of the 
 city. To all the rest of the Sicilians he is an object of hatred; 
 by the Mamertines alone is he liked. But of that deputation 
 which has been sent to utter his praises, Heius is the chief 
 man ; in truth, he is the chief man of his city, and too much 
 occupied in discharging the public duties imposed upon him 
 :o speak of his private injuries. Though I was aware of and 
 had given weight to these considerations, still, O judges, I 
 trusted myself to Heius. I produced him at the first plead- 
 ing ; and indeed I did it without any danger, for what answer 
 could Heius give even if he turned out a dishonest man, and 
 unlike himself? Could he say that these statues were at his 
 house, and not with Verres ? How could he say any thing of 
 that sort ? If he were the basest of men, and were inclined to 
 lie most shamelessly, he would say this; that he had had them 
 for sale, and that he had sold them at the price he wanted for 
 them. The man the most noble in all his citv, who was es- 
 pecially anxious that you should have a high opinion of his 
 conscientiousness and of his worth, says first, that he spoke in 
 
520 CICEFO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Verres's praise by the public authority of his city, because 
 that commission had been given to him ; secondly, that he 
 had not had these things for sale, and that, if he had been al- 
 lowed to do what he wished, he could never have been in- 
 duced by any terms to sell those things which were in his 
 private chapel, having been left to him and handed down to 
 him from his ancestors. 
 
 VIII. Why are you sitting there, O Yerres? What are 
 you waiting for? Why do you say you are hemmed in and 
 overwhelmed by the cities of Centuripa, of Catina, of Halesa, 
 of Tyndaris, of Enna, of Agyrium, and by all the other cities 
 of Sicily? Your second country, as you used to call it, Mes- 
 sana herself attacks you ; your own Messana, I say; the assist- 
 ant in your crimes, the witness of your lusts, the receiver of 
 your booty and your thefts. For the most honorable man of 
 that city is present, a deputy sent from his home on account 
 of this very trial, the chief actor in the panegyric on you ; 
 who praises you by the public order of his city, for so he has 
 been charged and commanded to do. Although you recollect, 
 O judges, what he answered when he was asked about the ship ; 
 that it had been built by public labor, at the public expense, 
 and that a Mamertine senator had been appointed by the pub- 
 lic authority to superintend its building. Heius in his private 
 capacity flees to you for aid, O judges; he avails himself of 
 this law, the common fortress of our allies, by which this tri- 
 bunal is established. Although there is a law for recovering 
 money which has been unjustly extorted, he says that he docs 
 not seek to recover any money ; which, though it has been taken 
 from him, he does not so much care about ; but he says he 
 does demand back from you the sacred images belonging to 
 his ancestors, he does demand back from you his hereditary 
 household gods. Have you any shame, O Yerres? have you 
 any religion? have you any fear ? You have lived in Heius's 
 house at Messana ; you saw him almost daily performing sa- 
 cred rites in his private chapel before those gods. He is not 
 influenced by money; he does not even ask to have thoso 
 things restored which were merely ornaments. Keep the 
 Canephorne; restore the images of the gods. And because he 
 said this, because after a given time he, an ally and friend of 
 the Roman people, addressed his complaints to you in a mod- 
 erate tone, because he was very attentive to religious obliga- 
 tion not only while demanding back his paternal gods, bnl 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 521 
 
 also in giving his evidence on oath ; know that one of the 
 deputies has been sent back to Messana, that very man who 
 superintended the building of that ship at the public expense, 
 to demand from the senate that Heius should be condemned 
 to an ignominious punishment. 
 
 IX. O most insane of men, what did you think ? that you 
 should obtain what you requested"? Did you not know how 
 greatly he was esteemed by his fellow-citizens ; how great his 
 influence was considered? But suppose you had obtained 
 your request ; suppose that the Mamertines had passed any 
 severe vote against Heius, what do you think would have been 
 the authority of their panegyric, if they had decreed punish- 
 ment to the man who it was notorious had given true evi- 
 dence ? Although, what sort of praise is that, when he who 
 utters it, being questioned, is compelled to give answers inju- 
 rious to him whom he is praising ? "What ! are not those who 
 are praising you, my witnesses'? Heius is an encomiast of 
 yours; he has done you the most serious injury. I will 
 bring forward the rest ; they will gladly be silent about all 
 that they are allowed to suppress ; they will say what they 
 can not help saying, unwillingly. Can they deny that a trans- 
 port of the largest size was built for that man at Messana ? 
 Let them deny it if they can. Can they deny that a Mamer- 
 tine senator was appointed by the public authority to super- 
 intend the building of that ship ! I wish they would deny it. 
 There are other points also which I prefer reserving unmen- 
 tioned at present, in order to give as little time as possible to 
 them for planning and arranging their perjury. Let this 
 praise, then, be placed to your account ; let these men come 
 to your relief with their authority, who neither ought to help 
 you if they were able, nor could do so if they wished; on 
 whom in their private capacity you have inflicted many inju- 
 ries, and put many affronts, while in their city you have dis- 
 honored many families forever by your adulteries and crimes. 
 "But you have been of public service to their city." Not 
 without great injury to the republic and to the province of 
 Sicily. They were bound to supply and they used to supply 
 sixty thousand modii of wheat to the Roman people for pay- 
 ment; that was remitted by you of your own sole authority. 
 The republic was injured because by your means its ri<rht of 
 dominion over one city was disparaged ; the Sicilians were 
 injured, because this quantity was not deducted from the to- 
 
522 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tal amount of the corn to be provided by the island, but was 
 only transferred to the cities of Centuripa and Halesa, whose 
 inhabitants were exempt from that tax ; and on them a great- 
 er burden was imposed than they were able to bear. It was 
 your duty to require them to furnish a ships, in compliance 
 with the treaty. You remitted it for three years. During 
 all those years you never demanded one soldier. You acted 
 as pirates are accustomed to act, who, though they are the 
 common enemies of all men, still select some friends, whom 
 they not only spare, but even enrich with their booty ; and 
 especially such as have a town in a convenient situation, 
 where they often, and sometimes even necessarily, put in with 
 their vessels. 
 
 X. The town of Phaselis, which Publius Servilius took, had 
 not been in former times a city of Cilicians and pirates. The 
 Lycians, a Greek tribe, inhabited it; but because it was in 
 such a situation as it was, and because it projected into the 
 sea, so that pirates from Cilicia often necessarily touched at it 
 when departing on an expedition, and were also often borne 
 thither on their retreats, the pirates connected that city with 
 themselves ; at first by commercial intercourse, and afterward 
 by a regular alliance. The city of the Mamertines was not 
 formerly of bad character; it was even a city hostile to dis- 
 honest men, and detained the luggage of Caius Cato, the one 
 who was consul. But then what sort of a man was he ? a 
 most eminent and most influential man ; who, however, though 
 he had been consul, was convicted. So Caius Cato, the grand- 
 son of two most illustrious men, Lucius Paullus and Marcus 
 Cato, and the son of the sister of Publius Africanus, who, 
 even when convicted, at a time when severe judgments were 
 in the habit of being passed, found the damages to which he 
 was liable only estimated at eighteen thousand sesterces ; with 
 this man, I say, the Mamertines were angry, who have often 
 expended a greater sum than the damages in the action against 
 Cato were laid at, in one banquet for Timarcl tides. But this 
 city was the Phaselis for that robber and pirate of Sicily. 
 Hither every thing was brought from all quarters ; with them 
 it was left ; whatever required to be concealed, they kept 
 separate and stored away. By their agency he contrived 
 every tiling which he wished put on board ship privily, and 
 exported secretly ; and in their harbor he contrived to have a 
 vessel of the largest size built, for him to send to Italy loaded 
 

 AGAINST VERRES. 523 
 
 with plunder. In return for these services, he gave them im- 
 munity from all expense, all labor, all military service, in 
 short, from every thing. For three years they were the only 
 people, not only in Sicily, but, according to my opinion, in 
 the whole world at such a time, who enjoyed excuse, relief, 
 freedom, and immunity from every sort of expense, and trouble, 
 and office. Hence arose that Verrean festival ; hence it was 
 that he ventured to order Sextus Cominius to be dragged be- 
 fore him at a banquet, at whom he attempted to throw a 
 goblet, whom he ordered to be seized by the throat, and to be 
 hurried from the banquet and thrown into a dark prison; 
 hence came that cross, on which, in the sight of many men, 
 he suspended a Roman citizen; that cross which he never 
 ventured to erect any where except among that people, whom 
 he had made sharers in all his crimes and robberies. 
 
 XL Do you, O Mamertines ! dare to come to praise any 
 
 one ? By what authority ? by that which you ought to have 
 
 with the senatorial order ? by that which you ought to have 
 
 with the Eoman people 1 Is there any city, not only in our 
 
 provinces, but in the most distant nations, either so powerful, 
 
 or so free, or so savage and uncivilized? is there any king, 
 
 who would not invite a senator of the Roman people to his 
 
 house and to his home? An honor which is paid not only to 
 
 the man, but in the first place to the Roman people, by whose 
 
 indulgence we have risen to this order, and secondly to the 
 
 authority of this order ; and unless that is respected among 
 
 our allies, where will be the name and dignity of the empire 
 
 among foreign nations ! The Mamertines did not give me 
 
 any public invitation — when I say me, that is a trifle ; but 
 
 when they did not invite a senator of the Roman people, they 
 
 withheld an honor due not to the man but to his order. For 
 
 to Tullius himself, the most splendid and magnificent house 
 
 of Cnasus Pompeius Basilicus was opened; with whom he 
 
 would have lodged even if he had been invited by you. There 
 
 was also the most honorable house of the Percennii, who are 
 
 now also called Pompeius ; where Lucius my brother lodged 
 
 and was received by them with the greatest eagerness. A 
 
 senator of the Roman people, as far as depended on you as a 
 
 body, lay in your town, and passed the night in the public 
 
 streets. No other city ever did such a thing. " Yes," say 
 
 you, a for you were instituting a prosecution against our 
 
 friend." Will you put your own interpretation on what pri. 
 
524 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 vate business I have of my own, by diminishing the honor due 
 to the senate? But I will make my complaint of this con- 
 duct, if ever the time comes that there is anv discussion con- 
 cerning you among that body, which, up to this time, has 
 been affronted by no one but you. With what face have you 
 presented yourself before the eyes of the Roman people ? when 
 you have not yet pulled down that cross, which is even now 
 stained with the blood of a Roman citizen, which is fixed up 
 in your city by the harbor, and have not thrown it into the 
 sea and purified all that place, before you came to Rome, and 
 before this tribunal. On the territory of the Mamertines, con- 
 nected with us by treaty, at peace with us, is that monument 
 of your cruelty raised. Is not your city the only one where, 
 when any one arrives at it from Italy, he sees the cross of a 
 Roman citizen before he sees any friend of the Roman people"? 
 which you are in the habit of displaying to the people of 
 Rhegium, whose city you envy, and to your inhabitants, Ro- 
 man citizens as they are, to make them think less of them- 
 selves, and be less inclined to despise you, when they see the 
 privileges of our citizenship extinguished by such a punish- 
 ment. 
 
 XII. But you say you bought these things? What? did 
 you forget to purchase of the same Heius that Attalic 1 tapes- 
 try, celebrated over the whole of Sicily? You might have 
 bought them in the same way as you did the statues. For 
 what did you do ? Did you wish to spare the account-books ? 
 This escaped the notice of that stupid man ; he thought that 
 what he stole from the wardrobe would be less notorious than 
 what he had stolen from the private chapel. But how did ho 
 get it? I can not relate it more plainly than Heius himself 
 related it before you. When I asked, whether any other part 
 of his property had come to Yerres, he answered that he had 
 sent him orders to send the tapestry to Agrigentum to him. 
 I asked whether he had sent it. He replied as he must, that 
 is, that he had been obedient to the praetor; that he had sent 
 it. — I asked whether it had arrived at Agrigentum ; he said 
 it had arrived. — I asked in what condition it had returned; 
 he said it had not returned yet. — There was a laugh and a 
 murmur from all the people. Did it never occur to you in 
 
 1 Attalus, king of Pergamus, had been the inventor of weaving gold 
 thread into tapestry work, and therefore tapestry with gold threads inter- 
 woven in it was called by his name. 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 525 
 
 this instance to order him to make an entry in his books, that 
 he had sold you this tapestry too, for six thousand five hun- 
 dred sesterces"? Did you fear that your debts would increase, 
 if these things were to cost you six thousand five hundred ses- 
 terces, which you could easily sell for two hundred thousand? 
 It was worth that, believe me. You would have been able to 
 defend yourself if you had given that sum for it. 2so one 
 would then have asked how much it was worth. If you could 
 only prove that you had bought it, you could easily make your 
 cause and your conduct appear reasonable to any one. But as 
 it is, you have no way of getting out of your difficulty about 
 the tapestry. What shall I say next? Did you take away 
 by force some splendid harness, which is said to have belonged 
 to King Hiero, from Philarchus of Centuripa, a wealthy and 
 high-born man, or did you buy it of him ? When I was in 
 Sicily, this is what I heard from the Centuripans and from 
 every body else, for the case was veiy notorious ; people said 
 that you had taken away this harness from Philarchus of Cen- 
 turipa, and other very beautiful harness from Aristus of Pa- 
 normus, and a third set from Cratippus of Tyndarus. Indeed, 
 if Philarchus had sold it to you. you would not, after the pros- 
 ecution was instituted against you, have promised to restore it. 
 But because you saw that many people knew o"f it, you thought 
 that if you restored it to him, you would only have so much 
 the less, but the original transaction would be proved against 
 you nevertheless ; and so you did not restore it. Philarchus 
 said in his evidence, that w r hen he became acquainted with 
 this disease of yours, as your friends call it, he wished to con- 
 ceal from vou the knowledge of the existence of this harness ; 
 that when he was summoned by you, he said that he had not 
 got any; and indeed, that he had removed them to another 
 person's house, that they might not be found ; but that your 
 instinct was so great, that you saw them by the assistance of 
 the very man in whose custody they were deposited ; that then 
 he could not deny that you had found him out, and so that 
 the harness was taken from him against his will, and without 
 any payment. 
 
 XI II. Now, O judges, it is worth your while to know how 
 he was accustomed to find and trace out all these things. 
 There are two brothers, citizens of Cibyra, Tlepolemus and 
 Hiero, one of whom, I believe, was accustomed to model in 
 wax. the other was a painter. I fancy these men, as they had 
 
526 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 become suspected by their fellow-citizens of having plundered 
 the temple of Apollo at Cibyra, fearing a trial and the punish- 
 ment of the law, had fled from their homes. As they had 
 known that Verres was a great connoisseur of such works as 
 theirs, at the time that he, as you learned from the witnesses, 
 came to Cibyra with fictitious bills of exchange, they, when 
 flying from their homes as exiles, came to him when he was 
 in Asia. He has kept them with him ever since that time ; 
 and in the robberies he committed, and in the booty he ac- 
 quired during his lieutenancy, he greatly availed himself of 
 their assistance and their advice. These are the men who 
 were meant when Quint us Tadius made an entry in his books 
 that he had given things by Verres's order to some Greek 
 painters. They were already well known to, and had been 
 thoroughly tried by him, when he took them with him into 
 Sicily. And when they arrived there, they scented out and 
 tracked every thing in so marvelous a manner (you might have 
 thought they were blood-hounds), that, wherever any thing 
 was, they found it out by some means or other. Some things 
 they found out by threatening, some by promising; this by 
 means of slaves, that through freemen ; one thing by a friend, 
 another by an enemy. Whatever pleased them was sure to 
 be lost. They whose plate was demanded had nothing else 
 to hope, than that Tlepolemus and Hiero might not approve 
 of it. 
 
 XIV. I will relate to you this fact, O judges, most truly. 
 I recollect that Pamphilus of Lilybreum, a connection of mine 
 by ties of hospitality, and a personal friend of mine, a man of 
 the highest birth, told me, that when that man had taken from 
 him, by his absolute power, an ewer made by the hand of P>o- 
 ethus, of exquisite workmanship and great weight, he went 
 home very sad in truth, and greatly agitated, because a vessel 
 of that sort, which had been left to him by his father and his 
 forefathers, and which he was accustomed to use on days of 
 festival, and on the arrival of ancient friends, had been taken 
 from him. While I was sitting at home, said he, in great in- 
 dignation, up comes one of the slaves of Venus; he orders me 
 immediately to bring to the prretor some embossed goblets. I 
 was greatly vexed, said he; I had two; I order them both to 
 be taken out of the closet, lest any worse thing should happen, 
 and to be brought after me to the praetor's house. When I 
 got there the praetor was asleep ; the Cibyratic brother* were 
 
 
AGAINST VERRES 527 
 
 walking about, and when they saw me, they said, Pamphilus, 
 where are the cups? I show them with great grief; — they 
 praise them. — I begin to complain that I shall have nothing 
 left of any value at all, if my cups too were taken away. Then 
 they, when they see me vexed, say, Wliat are you willing to 
 give us to prevent these from being taken from you? To make 
 my story short, I said that I would give six hundred sesterces. 
 Meantime the praetor summons us; he asks for the cups. Then 
 they began to say to the praetor, that they had thought from 
 what they had heard, that Pamphilus' s cups were of some 
 value, but that they were miserable things, epiite unworthy of 
 Verres's having them among his plate. He said, he thought^. 
 so too. So Pamphilus saved his exquisite goblets. And in- 
 deed, before I heard this, though I knew that it was a very 
 trifling sort of accomplishment to understand things of that 
 sort, yet I used to wonder that he had any knowledge of them 
 at all, as I knew that in nothing whatever had he any quali- 
 ties like a man. 
 
 XY. But when I heard this, I then for the first time un- 
 derstood that that was the use of these two Cibyratic broth- 
 ers; that in his robberies he used his own hands, but their 
 eyes. But he was so covetous of that splendid reputation of J 
 being thought to be a judge of such matters, that lately (just 
 observe the man's madness), after his case was adjourned, wheu m 
 he was already as good as condemned, and civilly dead, at the 
 time of the games of the circus, when earlv in the morning 
 the couches were spread in preparation for a banquet at the 
 house of Lucius Sisenna, a man of the first consideration, and 
 when the plate was all set out, and when, as was suited to the 
 dignity of Lucius Sisenna, the house was full of honorable 
 men, he came to the plate, and began in a leisurely way to 
 examine and consider every separate piece. Some marveled 
 at the folly of the man, who, while his trial was actually goiv.g 
 on, was increasing the suspicion of that covetousness of which 
 he was accused ; others marveled at his insensibility, that any 
 such things could come into his head, when the time for judg- 
 ment in his cause was so near at hand, and when so many 
 witnesses had spoken against him. But Sisenna's servants, 
 who, I suppose, had heard the evidence which had been given 
 against him, never took their eyes oiF him, and never departed 
 out of reach of the plate. It is the part of a sagacious judge, 
 from small circumstances to form his opinion of every man's 
 
528 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 covetousncFs or incontinence. And will any one believe that 
 this man when praetor, was able to keep either his covetous- 
 ness or his hands from the plate of the Sicilians, when, though 
 a defendant, and a defendant within two days of judgment, a 
 man in reality, and in the opinion of all men as good as already 
 condemned, he could not in a large assembly restrain himself 
 from handling and examining the plate of Lucius Sisenna? 
 
 XYL But that my discourse may return to Lilybseum, from 
 which I have made this digression, there is a man named Dio- 
 des, the son-in-law of Pamphilus, of that Pamphilus from whom 
 the ewer was taken away, whose surname is Popillius. From 
 this man he took away every article on his side-board where 
 his plate was set out. He may say, if he pleases, that he had 
 bought them. In fact, in this case, by reason of the magni- 
 tude of the robbery, an entry of it, I imagine, has been made 
 in the account-books. He ordered Timarchides to value the 
 plate. How did he do it? At as low a price as any one 
 ever valued any thing presented to an actor. Although I 
 have been for some time acting foolishly in saying so much 
 about your purchases, and in asking whether you bought the 
 things, and how, and at what price you bought them, when I 
 can settle all that by one word. Produce me a written list 
 of what plate you acquired in the province of Sicily, from 
 whom, and at what price you bought each article. What 
 will you do ? Though I ought not to ask you for these ac- 
 counts, for I ought to have your account-books and to pro- 
 duce them. But you say that you never kept any accounts 
 of your expenses in these years. Make me out at least this 
 one which I am asking for, the account of the plate, and I 
 will not mind the rest at present. " I have no writings of the 
 sort ; I can not produce any accounts." What then is to be 
 done? What do you think that these judges can do? Your 
 house was full of most beautiful statues already, before your 
 praetorship; many were placed in your villas, many were de- 
 posited with your friends ; many were given and presented to 
 other people; yet you have no accounts speaking of any sin- 
 gle one having been bought. All the plate in Sicily has been 
 laken away. There is nothing left to any one that can be 
 called his own. A scandalous defense is invented, that the 
 praetor bought all that plate; and yet that ('an not he proved 
 by any accounts. If you do produce any accounts, still there 
 is no entry in them how you have acquired tvhat you havo 
 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 529 
 
 got. But of these years during which you say that you 
 bought the greatest number of things, you produce no ac- 
 counts at all. Must you not inevitably be condemned, both 
 by the accounts which you do, and by those which you do not 
 produce ? 
 
 XVII. You also took away at Lilybneum whatever silver 
 vessels you chose from Marcus Crelius, a Roman knight, a 
 most excellent young man. You did not hesitate to take 
 away the whole furniture of Caius Cacurius, a most active 
 and accomplished man, and of the greatest influence in his 
 city. You took away, with the knowledge of every body, a 
 very large and very beautiful table of citron-wood from Quin- 
 tus Lutatius Diodorus, who, owing to the kind exertion of his 
 interest by Quintus Catulus, was made a Roman citizen by 
 Lucius Sylla. I do not object to you that you stripped and 
 plundered a most worthy imitator of yours in his whole char- 
 acter, Apollonius, the son of Nico, a citizen of Drepanum, 
 who is now called Aulus Clodius, of all his exquisitely wrought 
 silver plate ; — I say nothing of that. For he does not think 
 that any injury has been done to him, because you came to * 
 his assistance when he was a ruined man, with the rope round 
 his neck, and shared with him the property belonging to their 
 father, of which he had plundered his wards at Drepanum. 
 I am even very glad if you took any thing from him, and I 
 say that nothing was ever better done by you. But it cer- 
 tainly was not right that the statue of Apollo should have 
 been taken away from Lyso of Lilybaeum, a most eminent 
 man, with whom you have been staying as a guest. But 
 you will say that you bought it — I know that — for six hun- 
 dred sesterces. So I suppose : I know it, I say ; I will pro- 
 duce the accounts ; and yet that ought not to have been done. 
 Will you say that the drinking-vessels with emblems of Lily- 
 baeum on them were bought from Heius, the minor to whom 
 Marcellus is guardian, whom you had plundered of a large 
 sum of money, or will you confess that they were taken by 
 force ? 
 
 But why do I enumerate all his ordinary iniquities in affairs 
 of this sort, which appear to consist only in robberies commit- 
 ted by him, and in losses borne by those whom he plundered'? 
 Listen, if you please, O judges, to an action of such a sort as 
 will prove to you clearly his extraordinary madness andphren- 
 sy, rather than any ordinary covetousness. 
 
 Z 
 
530 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 XVIII. There is a man of Melita, called Diodorus, who 
 has already given evidence before you. He has been now 
 living at Lilybamm many years ; a man of great nobility at 
 home, and of great credit and popularity with the people 
 among whom he has settled, on account of his virtue. It is 
 reported to Verres of this man that he has some exceedingly 
 fine specimens of chased work ; and among them two goblets 
 called Thericlean, 1 made by the hand of Mentor with the most 
 exquisite skill. And when Verres heard of this, he was in- 
 flamed with such a desire, not only of beholding, but also of 
 appropriating them, that he summoned Diodorus, and demand- 
 ed them. He replied, as w r as natural for a man who took great 
 pride in them, that he had not got them at Lilybaeum ; that 
 he had left them at Melita, in the bouse of a relation of his. 
 On this he immediately sends men on whom he can rely to 
 Melita; he writes to certain inhabitants of Melita to search 
 out those vessels for him ; he desires Diodorus to give them 
 letters to that relation of his — the time appeared to him end- 
 less till he could see those pieces of plate. Diodorus, a pru- 
 dent and careful man, who wished to keep his own property, 
 writes to his relation to make answer to those men who came 
 from Verres, that he had sent the cups to Lilybaeum a few 
 days before. In the mean time he himself leaves the place. 
 He preferred leaving his home, to staying in it and losing that 
 exquisitely wrought silver work. But when Verres heard of 
 this, he was so agitated that he seemed to every one to be rav 
 ing, and to be beyond all question mad. Because he could 
 not steal the plate himself, he said that he had been robbed 
 by Diodorus of some exquisitely wrought vessels ; he poured 
 out threats against the absent Diodorus; he used to roar out 
 before people; sometimes he could not restrain his tears. We 
 have heard in the mythology of Eriphyla being so covetous 
 that when she had seen a necklace, made, I suppose, of gold 
 and jewels, she was so excited by. its beauty, that she betrayed 
 her husband for the sake of it. His covetouaness was similar; 
 but in one respect more violent and more senseless, because 
 she was desiring a thing which she had seen, while his wishes 
 were excited not only by his eyes, but even by his ears. 
 
 1 " Thericles was a potter in the time of Aristophanes, who made enrth- 
 cn-ware vessels of a peculiar black clay. In subsequent lime, any gobleta 
 made in imitation of his, whether of wood, silver, or glass, were called 
 Thericlean." — ( Jra-vius. 
 
AGAINPT VERRES. 533 
 
 XIX. He orders Diodorus to be sought for over the whole 
 province. He had by this time struck his camp, packed up 
 his baggage, and left Sicily. Verres, in order by some means 
 or other to bring the man back to the province, devises this 
 plan, if it is to be called a plan, and' not rather a piece of mad- 
 ness. He sets up one of the men he calls his hounds, to say 
 that he wishes to institute a prosecution against Diodorus of 
 Melita for a capital offense. At first all men wondered at 
 such a thing being imputed to Diodorus, a most quiet man, 
 and as far removed as any man from all suspicion, not only 
 of crime, but of even the slightest irregularity. But it soon 
 became evident, that all this was done for the sake of his sil- 
 ver. Verres does not hesitate to order the prosecution to be 
 instituted ; and that, I imagine, was the first instance of his 
 allowing an accusation to be made against an absent man. 
 The matter was notorious over all Sicily, that men w r ere pros- 
 ecuted for capital offenses because the praetor coveted their 
 phased silver plate ; and that prosecutions were instituted 
 against them not only when they were present, but even in 
 their absence. Diodorus goes to Rome, and putting on 
 mourning, calls on all his patrons and friends ; relates the 
 affair to every one. Earnest letters are written to Verres by 
 his father, and by his friends, warning him to take care what 
 he did, and what steps he took respecting Diodorus ; that the 
 matter was notorious and very unpopular ; that he must be 
 out of his senses ; that this one charge would ruin him if he 
 did not take care. At that time he considered his father, if 
 not in the light of a parent, at least in that of a man. He 
 had not yet sufficiently prepared himself for a trial ; it was 
 his first year in the province; he was not, as he was by the 
 time of the affair of Sthenius, loaded with money. And so 
 his phrensy was checked a little, not by shame, but by fear 
 and alarm. He does not dare to condemn Diodorus ; he 
 takes his name out of the list of defendants while he is absent. 
 In the mean time Diodorus, for nearly three years, as long as 
 that man was praetor, was banished from the province .and 
 from his home. Every one else, not only Sicilians, but Ro- 
 man citizens too, settled this in their minds, that, since he had 
 carried his covetousness to such an extent, there was nothing 
 which any one could expect to preserve or retain in his own 
 possession if it was admired ever so little by Verres. 
 
 XX. But after they understood that that brave man, Quin- 
 
532 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tus Arrius, whom the province was eagerly looking for, was 
 not his successor, they then settled that they could keep no- 
 thing so carefully shut up or hidden away, as not to be most 
 open and visible to his covetousness. After that, he took 
 away from an honorable and highly esteemed Roman knight, 
 named Cnaeus Calidius, whose son he knew to be a senator 
 of the Roman people and a judge, some beautiful silver horses 
 which had belonged to Quintus Maximus. I did not mean 
 to say this, O judges, for he bought those, he did not steal 
 them ; I wish I had not mentioned them. Noav he will boast, 
 and have a fine ride on these horses. " I bought them, I have 
 paid the money for them." I have no doubt account-books 
 also will be produced. It is w r ell worth while. Give me 
 then the account-books. You are at liberty to get rid of this 
 charge respecting Calidius, as long as I can get a sight of these 
 accounts ; still, if you had bought them, what ground had 
 Calidius for complaining at Rome, that, though he had been 
 living so many years in Sicily as a trader, you were the only 
 person who had so despised and so insulted him, as to plunder 
 him in common with all the rest of the Sicilians ? what ground 
 had he for declaring that he would demand his plate back 
 again from you, if he had sold it to you of his own free Mill ! 
 Moreover, how could you avoid restoring it to Cnaeus Calidius; 
 especially when he was such an intimate friend of Lueiu< 
 Sisenna, your defender, and as you had restored their prop- 
 erty to the other friends of Sisenna? Lastly, I do not sup- 
 pose you will deny that by the intervention of Potamo, a 
 friend of yours, you restored his plate to Lucius Cordius, an 
 honorable man, but not more highly esteemed than Cnaeus 
 Calidius ; and it was he who made the cause of the rest more 
 difficult to plead before you ; for though you had promised 
 many men to restore them their property, yet, after Cordius 
 had stated in his evidence that you had restored him his, you 
 desisted from making any more restorations, because you saw 
 that you lost your plunder, and yet could not escape the evi- 
 dence against you. Under all other praetors Cnaeus Calidius, 
 a Roman knight, was allowed to have plate finely wrought ; 
 he was permitted to be able from his own stores to adorn ami 
 furnish a banquet handsomely, when he had invited a magis- 
 trate or any superior officer. Many men in power and au- 
 thority have been with Cnaeus Calidius at his house ; no one 
 was ever found so mad as to take from him that admirable 
 
AGATNST VERRES 533 
 
 and splendid plate ; no one was found bold enough to ask for 
 it ; no one impudent enough to beg him to sell it. For it is 
 an arrogant thing, an intolerable thing, O judges, for a prae- 
 tor to say to an honorable, and rich, and well-appointed man 
 in his province, "Sell me those chased goblets." For it is 
 saying, "You do not deserve to have things which are so 
 beautifully made; they are better suited to a man of my 
 stamp." Are you, O Verres, more worthy than Calidius ? 
 whom (not to compare your way of life with his, for they are 
 not to be compared, but) I will compare you with in respect 
 of this very dignity owing to which you make yourself out his 
 superior. You gave eighty thousand sesterces to canvassing 
 agents to procure your election as praetor ; } r ou gave three 
 hundred thousand to an accuser not to press hardly upon you: 
 do you, on that account, look down upon and despise the 
 equestrian order"? Is it on that account that it seemed to 
 you a scandalous thing that Calidius should have any thing 
 that you admired rather than that you should'? 
 
 XXL He has been long boasting of this transaction with 
 Calidius, and telling every one that he bought the things. 
 Did you also buy that censer of Lucius Papirius, a man of 
 the highest reputation, wealth, and honor, and a Roman 
 knight? who stated in his evidence that, when you had begged 
 for it to look at, you returned it with the emblems torn off; 
 so that you may understand that it is all taste in that man, 
 not avarice; that it is the fine work that he covets, not the 
 silver. Nor was this abstinence exercised only in the case 
 of Papirius ; he practiced exactly the same conduct with re- 
 spect to every censer in Sicily ; and it is quite incredible how 
 many beautifully wrought censers there were. I imagine that, 
 when Sicily was at the height of its power and opulence, 
 there were extensive work-shops in that island ; for before that 
 man went thither as pra-tor there was no house tolerably rich, 
 in which there were not these things, even if there was no 
 other silver plate besides ; namely, a large dish with figures 
 and images of the gods embossed on it, a goblet which the 
 women used for sacred purposes, and a censer. And all these 
 were antique, and executed with the most admirable skill, so 
 that one may suspect every thing else in Sicily was on a simi- 
 lar scale of magnificence ; but that though fortune had deprived 
 them of much, those things were still preserved among them 
 winch -»"-ere retained for purposes of religion. I said just now, 
 
534 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 O judges, that there were many censers, in almost every house 
 in fact ; I assert also, that now there is not even one left 
 What is the meaning of this % what monster, what prodigy 
 did we send into the province ? Does it not appear to you 
 that he desired, when he returned to Rome, to satisfy not the 
 covetousness of one man, not his own eyes only, but the insane 
 passion of every covetous man ; for as soon as he ever came 
 into any city, immediately those Cibyratic hounds of his were 
 slipped, to search and find out every thing. If they found 
 any large vessel, any considerable work, they brought it to 
 him with joy ; if they could hunt out any smaller vessel of 
 the same sort, they looked on those as a sort of lesser game, 
 whether they were dishes, cups, censers, or any thing else. 
 What weepings of women, what lamentations do you suppose 
 took place over these things | things which may perhaps seem 
 insignificant to you, but which excite great and bitter indig- 
 nation, especially among women, who grieve when those things 
 are torn from their hands which they have been accustomed 
 to use in religious ceremonies, which they have received from 
 their ancestors, and which have always been in their family. 
 
 XXII. Do not now wait while I follow up this charge from 
 door to door, and show you that he stole a goblet from iEschy- 
 lus the Tyndaritan ; a dish from another citizen of Tyndaris 
 named Thraso ; a censer from Nymphodorus of Agrigentum. 
 "When I produce my witnesses from Sicily he may s-elcct 
 whom he pleases for me to examine about dishes, goblets, and 
 censers. Not only no town, no single house that is tolerably 
 well off will be found to have been free from the injurious 
 treatment of this man; who, even if he had come to a banquet, 
 if he saw any finely wrought plate, could not, O judges, keep 
 his hands from it. There is a man named CnaeuS Pompeius 
 Philo, who was a native of Tyndaris ; he gave Verr.es a sup- 
 per at his villa in the country near Tyndaris ; he did what 
 Sicilians did not dare to do, but what, because he was a citi- 
 zen of Home, he thought he could do with impunity, he put 
 before him a dish on which were some exceedingly beautiful 
 figures. Verres, the moment he saw it, determined to rob bis 
 host's table of that memorial of the Penates and of the gods 
 of hospitality. But yet, in accordance with what I have said 
 before of his great moderation, he restored the rest of the 
 silver after he had torn off the figures ; so free was he from 
 '41 avarice ! What want you more ? Did he not do the same 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 535 
 
 thing to Eupolemus of Calacta, a noble man, connected with, 
 and°an intimate friend of the Luculli ; a man who is now 
 serving in the army under Lucius Lucullus % He was supping 
 with him ; the rest of the silver which he had set before him 
 had no ornament on it, lest he himself should also be left with- 
 out any ornament ; but there were also two goblets, of no 
 large size, but with figures on them. He, as if he had been 
 a professional diner-out, who was not to go away without a 
 present, on the spot, in the sight of all the other guests, tore 
 off the figures. I do not attempt to enumerate all his exploits 
 of this sort ; it is neither necessary nor possible. I only pro- 
 duce to you tokens and samples of each description of his 
 varied and universal rascality. Nor did he behave in these 
 affairs as if he would some day or other be called to account 
 for them, but altogether as if he was either never likely to be 
 prosecuted, or else as if the more he stole, the less would be 
 his danger when he was brought before the court ; inasmuch 
 as he did these things which I am speaking of not secretly, 
 not by the instrumentality of friends or agents, but openly, 
 from his high position, by his own power and authority. 
 
 XXIH. When he had come to Catina, a wealthy, honor- 
 able, influential city, he ordered Dionysiarchus the proagorus, 
 that is to say, the chief magistrate, to be summoned before 
 him ; he openly orders him \o take care that all the silver 
 plate which was in any body's house at Catina, was collected 
 together and brought to him. Did you not hear Philarchus 
 ofXenturipa, a man of the highest position as to noble birth, 
 and virtue, and riches, say the same thing on his oath ; name- 
 ly, that Yerres had charged and commanded him to collect to- 
 gether, and order to be conveyed to him, all the silver plate 
 at Centuripa, by far the largest and wealthiest city in all Sic- 
 ily? In the same manner at Agyrium, all the Corinthian 
 vessels there were there, in accordance with his command, 
 were transported to Syracuse by the agency of Apollodorus, 
 whom you have heard as a witness. But the most extraor- 
 dinary conduct of all was this ; when that painstaking and 
 industrious praetor had arived at Haluntium, he would not 
 himself go up into the town, because the ascent was steep 
 and difficult ; but he ordered Archagathus of Haluntium, one 
 of the noblest men, not merely in his own city, but in ail 
 Sicily, to be summoned before him, and gave him a charge 
 to take care that all the chased silver that there was at 
 
530 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Haluntium, and every specimen of Corinthian work too, 
 should be at once taken down from the town to the sea-side. 
 Archagathus went up into the town. That noble .man, as 
 one who wished to be loved and esteemed by his fellow-cit- 
 izens, was very indignant at having such an office imposed 
 upon him, and did not know what to do. lie announces the 
 commands he has received. He orders every one to produce 
 what they had. There was great consternation, for the tyrant 
 himself had not gone away to any distance ; lying on a litter 
 by the sea-side below the town, he was waiting for Archaga- 
 thus and the silver plate. What a gathering of people do you 
 suppose took place in the town 1 what an uproar ? what 
 weeping of women? they who saw it would have said that 
 the Trojan horse had been introduced, and that the city was 
 taken. Vessels were brought out without their cases ; others 
 were wrenched out of the hands of women ; many people's 
 doors were broken open, and their locks forced. For what 
 else can you suppose ? Even if ever, at a time of war and 
 tumult, arms are demanded of private citizens, still men give 
 them unwillingly, though they know that they are giving 
 them for the common safety. Do not suppose then that any 
 one produced his carved plate out of his house for another 
 man to steal, without the greatest distress. Every tiling is 
 brought down to the shore. The Cibyratic brothers are sum- 
 moned ; they condemn some articles ; whatever they approve 
 of has its figures in relief or its embossed emblems torn off. 
 And so the Haluntines, having had all their ornaments 
 wrenched off, returned home with the plain silver. 
 
 XXIV. Was there ever, O judges, a drag-net of such a 
 sort as this in that province ? People have sometimes during 
 their year of office diverted some part of the public property 
 to their own use, in the most secret manner ; sometimes they 
 even secretly plundered some private citizen of something ; 
 and still they were condemned. And if you ask me, though 
 I am detracting somewhat from my own credit by saying so, 
 I think those were the real accusers, who traced the robberies 
 of such men as this by scent, or by some lightly imprinted 
 footsteps; for what is it that we are doing in respect of Yer. 
 res, who has wallowed in the mud till we can find him out by 
 the traces of his whole body? Is it a great undertaking to 
 say any thing against a man, who while he was passing by a 
 place, having his litter put down to rest for a little time, plun- 
 
AGAINST VLRRES. 537 
 
 dered a whole city, house by house, without condescending to 
 any pretenses, openly, by his own authority, and by an absolute 
 command ! But still, that he might be able to say that he had 
 bought them, he orders Archagathus to give those men, to 
 whom the plate had belonged, some little money, just for form's 
 sake. Archagathus found a few who would accept the money, 
 and those he paid. — And still Verres never paid Archagathus 
 that money. Archagathus intended to claim it at Borne ; 
 but Cmtus Lentulus Marcellinus dissuaded him, as you heard 
 him state himself. Read the evidence of Archagathus, and 
 of Lentulus, — and that you may not imagine that the man 
 wished to heap up such a mass of figures without any reason, 
 just see at what rate he valued you, and the opinion of the 
 Roman people, and the laws, and the courts of justice, and the 
 Sicilian witnesses and traders. After he had collected such a 
 vast number of figures that he had not left one single figure to 
 any body, he established an immense shop in the palace at 
 Syracuse; he openly orders all the manufacturers, and carv- 
 ers, and goldsmiths to be summoned — and he himself had 
 many in his own employ ; he collects a great multitude of 
 men ; he kept them employed uninterruptedly for eight months -if 
 though all that time no vessels were made of any thing but 3 
 gold. In that time he had so skillfully wrought the figures 
 which he had torn off the goblets and censers, into golden gob- 
 lets, or had so ingenious!}' joined them into golden cups, that 
 you would say that they had been made for that very pur- 
 pose ; and he, the prastor, who says that it was owing to his 
 vigilance that peace was maintained in Sicily, was accustomed 
 to^it in his tunic and dark cloak the greater part of the day 
 in this work -shop. 
 
 XXV. I would not venture, O judges, to mention these 
 things, if I were not afraid that you might perhaps say that 
 you had heard more about that man from others in common 
 conversation, than you had heard from me in this trial ; for 
 who is there who has not heard of this work-shop, of the 
 golden vessels, of Verres' s tunic and dark cloak ? Name any 
 respectable man you please out of the whole body of settlers 
 at Syracuse, I will produce him ; there will not be one person 
 who will not say that he has either teen this or heard of it. 
 Alas for the age! alas for the degeneracy of our manners! I 
 will not mention any thing of any great antiquity ; there are 
 many of you, O judges, who knew Lucius Piso, the father of 
 
 Z2 
 
;38 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this Lucius Piso, who was praetor. When he was prastor in 
 Spain, in which province he was slain, somehow or other, 
 while he was practicing his exercises in arms, the golden ring 
 which he had was broken and crushed., As he wanted to get 
 himself another ring, he ordered a goldsmith to be summoned 
 into the forum before his throne of office, at Corduba, and 
 openly weighed him out the gold. He ordered the man to 
 set up his bench in the forum, and to make him a ring in the 
 presence of every one. Perhaps in truth some may say that 
 he was too exact, and to this extent any one who chooses may 
 blame him, but no further. Still such conduct was allowable 
 for him, for he was the son of Lucius Piso, of that man who 
 first made the law about extortion and embezzlement. It is 
 quite ridiculous for me to speak of Verres now, when I have 
 just been speaking of Piso the Thrifty ; still, see what a dif- 
 ference there is between the men ; that man, while he was 
 making some side-boards full of golden vessels, did not care 
 what his reputation was, not only in Sicily, but also at Rome 
 in the court of justice; the other wished all Spain to know to 
 half an ounce how much gold it took to make a praetor's ring- 
 Forsooth, as the one proved his right to his name, so did tha 
 other to his surname. 
 
 XXVI. It is utterly impossible for me either to retain in 
 my memory, or to embrace in my speech, all his exploits. I 
 wish just to touch briefly on the different kinds of deeds done 
 by him, just as here the ring of Piso reminded me of what had 
 otherwise entirely escaped my recollection. From how many 
 honorable men do you imagine that that man tore the golden 
 rings from off their fingers ? He never hesitated to do so 
 whenever he was pleased w r ith either the jewels or the fashion 
 of the ring belonging to any one. I am going to mention an 
 incredible fact, but still one so notorious that I do not think 
 that he himself will deny it. When a letter had been brought 
 to Valentius his interpreter from Agrigentuin, by chance Ver- 
 res himself noticed the impression on the seal; he was pleased 
 with it, he asked where the letter came from ; he was told, 
 from Agrigentum. He sent letters to the men with whom 
 he was accustomed to communicate, ordering that ring to be 
 brought to him as soon as possible. And accordingly, in com- 
 pliance with his letter, it was torn off the finger of a master 
 of a family, a certain Lucius Titius, a Roman citizen. I>ut 
 that covetousness of his is quite beyond belief. For as ho 
 
AGAINST VERRES 539 
 
 wished to provide three hundred couches beautifully covered, 
 with all other decorations for a banquet, for the different 
 rooms which he has, not only at Rome, but in his different 
 villas, he collected such a number, that there was no wealthy 
 house in all Sicily where he did not set up an embroiderer's 
 shop. 
 
 There is a woman, a citizen of Segesta, very rich, and -nobly 
 born, by name Lamia. She, having her house full of spinning 
 jennies, for three years was making him robes and coverlets, 
 all dyed with purple ; Attalus, a rich man at Netum ; Lyso 
 at Lilybaeum ; Critolaus at Enna ; at Syracuse JEschrio, Cle- 
 omenes, and Theomnastus; at Elorum Archonides and Alegis- 
 tus. My voice will fail me before the names of the men whom 
 he employed in this way will ; he himself supplied the purple 
 — his friends supplied only the work, I dare say ; for I have 
 no wish to accuse him in every particular, as if it were not 
 enouo-h for me, with a view to accuse him, that he should 
 have had so much to give, that he should have wished to 
 carry away so many things ; and, besides all that, this thing 
 which he admits, namely, that he should have employed the 
 work of his friends in affairs of this sort. But now do you 
 suppose that brazen couches and brazen candelabra were made 
 at Syracuse for any one but for him the whole of that three 
 years? Pie bought them, I suppose ; but I am informing you 
 so fully, O judges, of what that man did in his province as 
 praetor, that he may not by chance appear to any one to have 
 been careless, and not to have provided and adorned himself 
 sufficiently when he had absolute power. 
 
 XXYII. I come now, not to a theft, not to avarice, not to 
 covetousness, but to an action of that sort that every kind of 
 wickedness seems to be contained in it, and to be in it ; by 
 w r hich the immortal gods were insulted, the reputation and 
 authority of the name of the Roman people was impaired, 
 hospitality was betrayed and plundered, all the kings who 
 were most friendly to us, and the nations which are under 
 their rule and dominion, were alienated from us by his wick- 
 edness. For you know that the kings of Syria, the boyish 
 sons of King Antiochus, have lately been at Rome. And 
 they came not on account of the kingdom of Syria ; for that 
 they had obtained possession of without dispute, as they had 
 received it from their father and-their ancestors ; but they 
 thought that the kingdom of Egypt belonged to them and to 
 
540 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 Selene their mother. "When they, being hindered by the crit- 
 ical state of the republic at that time, were not able to obtain 
 the discussion of the subject as they wished before the senate, 
 they departed for Syria, their paternal kingdom. One of them 
 — the one whose name is Antiochus — wished to make his jour- 
 ney through Sicily. And so, while Verres was praetor, he came 
 to Syracuse. On this Verres thought that an inheritance had 
 come to him, because a man whom he had heard, and on other 
 accounts suspected had many splendid things with him, had 
 come into his kingdom and into his power. He sends him 
 presents — liberal enough — for all domestic uses ; as much wine 
 and oil as he thought fit ; and as much wheat as he could want, 
 out of his tenths. After that he invites the king himself to 
 supper. He decorates a couch abundantly and magnificently. 
 He sets out the numerous and beautiful silver vessels, in which 
 he was so rich ; for he had not yet made all those golden ones. 
 He takes care that the banquet shall be splendidly appointed 
 and provided in every particular. Why need I make a long 
 story of it? The king departed thinking that Verres was 
 superbly provided with every thing, and that lie himself had 
 been magnificently treated. After that, he himself invites the 
 praaetor to supper. He displays all his treasures; much sil- 
 ver, also not a few goblets of gold, which, as is the custom 
 of kings, and especially in Syria, were studded all over with 
 most splendid jewels. There was also a vessel for wine, a 
 ladle hollowed out of one single large precious stone, with a 
 golden handle, concerning which, I think, you heard Quint us 
 Minutius speak, a sufficiently capable judge, and sufficiently 
 credible witness. Verres took each separate piece of plate 
 into his hands, praised it — admired it. The king was delight- 
 ed that that banquet was tolerably pleasant and agreeable to 
 a praetor of the Roman people. After the banquet was over, 
 Verres thought of nothing else, as the facts themselves show- 
 ed, than how he might plunder and strip the king of every 
 thing before he departed from the province. He sends to ask 
 for the most exquisite of the vessels which he had seen at An- 
 tiochus's lodgings. He said that he wished to show them to 
 his engravers. The king, who did not know the man, most 
 willingly sent them, without any suspicion of his intention. 
 Me pends also to borrow the jeweled ladle. lie said that he 
 wished to examine it more attentively ; that also is sent to 
 him. 
 
AGAINST VERRES 541 
 
 XXVIII. Now, O judges, mark what followed; thinga 
 which you have already heard, and which the Roman people 
 will not hear now for the first time, and which have been 
 reported abroad among foreign nations to the farthest cor- 
 ners of the earth. The kings, whom I have spoken of, had 
 brought to Koine a candelabrum of the finest jewels, made 
 with most extraordinary skill, in order to place it in the Cap- 
 itol ; but as they found that temple not yet finished, they 
 could not place it there. Nor were they willing to display 
 it and produce it in common, in order that it might seem 
 more splendid when it was placed at its proper time in the 
 shrine of the great and good Jupiter; and brighter, also, as 
 its beauty would come fresh and untarnished before the eyes * ' 
 of men. They determined, therefore, to take it back with 
 them into Syria, with the intention, when they should hear 
 that the image of the great and good Jupiter was dedicated, 
 of sending embassadors who should bring that exquisite and 
 most beautiful present, with other offerings, to the Capitol. 
 The matter, I know not how, got to his ears. For the king 
 had wished it kept entirely concealed ; not because he feared 
 or suspected any thing, but because he did not wish many to 
 feast their eyes on it before the Roman people. He begs the 
 king, and entreats him most earnestly to send it to him ; he 
 says that he longs to look at it himself, and that he will not 
 allow any one else to see it. Antiochus, being both of a child- 
 like and royal disposition, suspected nothing of that man's 
 dishonesty, and orders his servants to take it as secretly as 
 possible, and well wrapped up, to the praetor's house. And 
 when they brought it there, and placed it on a table, having 
 taken off the coverings, Verres began to exclaim that it was 
 a thing worthy of the kingdom of Syria, worthy of being a 
 royal present, worthy of the Capitol. In truth, it was of such 
 splendor as a thing must be which is made of the most bril- 
 liant and beautiful jewels; of such variety of pattern that 
 the skill of the workmanship seemed to vie with the rich- 
 ness of the materials ; and of such a size that it might easily 
 be seen that it had been made not for the furniture of men, 
 but for the decoration of a most noble temple. And when 
 he appeared to have examined it sufficiently, the servants be- di 
 gin to take it up to carry it back again. He says that he 
 wishes to examine it over and over again ; that he is not half 
 satiated with the sight of it ; he orders them to depart and 
 
542 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 to leave the candelabrum. So they then return to Antiochus 
 empty-handed. 
 
 XXIX. The king at first feared nothing, suspected nothing. 
 One day passed — two days — many days. It was not brought 
 back. Then the king sends to Verres to beg him to return it, 
 if he will be so good. He bids the slaves come again. The 
 king begins to think it strange. He sends a second time. It 
 is not returned. He himself calls on the man ; he begs him 
 to restore it to him. Think of the face and marvelous im- 
 pudence of the man. That thing which he knew, and which 
 he had heard from the king himself was to be placed in the 
 Capitol, which he knew was being kept for the great and good 
 Jupiter, and for the Roman people, that he began to ask and 
 entreat earnestly to have given to him. When the king said 
 that he was prevented from complying by the reverence due 
 to Jupiter Capitolinus, and by his regard for the opinion of 
 men, because many nations were witnesses to the fact of the 
 candelabrum having been made for a present to the god, the 
 fellow began to threaten him most violently. When he sees 
 that he is no more influenced by threats than he had been 
 by prayers, on a sudden he orders him to leave his province 
 before night. He says, that he lias found out that pirates 
 from his kingdom were coming against Sicily. The king. 
 in the most frequented place in Syracuse, in the forum, — 
 in the forum at Syracuse, I say (that no man may suppose I 
 am bringing!; forward a charge about which there is anv ob- 
 scurity, or imagining any thing which rests on mere suspi- 
 cion), weeping, and calling gods and men to witness, began to 
 cry out that Caius Verres had taken from him a candelabrum 
 made of jewels, which he was about to send to the Capitol, 
 and which he wished to be in that most splendid temple as 
 a memorial to the Roman people of his alliance with and 
 friendship for them. He said that he did not care about the 
 other works made of gold and jewels belonging to him which 
 were in Verres' s hands, but that it was a miserable and scan- 
 dalous thing for this to be taken from him. And that, al- 
 though it had long ago been consecrated in the minds and in- 
 tendons of himself and his brother, still, that he then, before 
 that assembled body of Roman citizens, offered, and gave, and 
 dedicated, and consecrated it to the great and good Jupiter, 
 and that he invoked Jupiter himself as a witness of his inten- 
 tion and of his piety. 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 543 
 
 XXX. What voice, what lungs, what power of mine can 
 adequately express the indignation due to this atrocity * The 
 King Antiochus, who had lived for two years at Rome in the 
 eight of all of us, with an almost royal retinue and establish- * 
 ment, — though he had been the friend and ally of the Roman 
 people ; though his father, and his grandfather, and his an- 
 cestors, most ancient and honorable sovereigns, had been our 
 firmest friends ; though he himself is monarch of a most 
 opulent and extensive kingdom, is turned headlong out of a 
 province of the Roman people. How do you suppose that 
 foreign nations will take this? How do you suppose the news 
 of this exploit of yours will be received in the dominions of 
 other kings, and in the most distant countries of the world, 
 when they hear that a king has been insulted by a praetor of 
 the Roman people in his province ? that a guest of the Eoman 
 people has been plundered 1 a friend and ally of the Roman 
 people insultingly driven out? Know that your name and 
 that of the Roman people will be an object of hatred and de- 
 testation to foreign nations. If this unheard-of insolence of 
 Verres is to pass unpunished, all men will think, especially as 
 the reputation of our men for avarice and covetousness has 
 been very extensively spread, that this is not his crime only, 
 but that of those who have approved of it. Many kings, many 
 free cities, many opulent and powerful private men, cherish 
 intentions of ornamenting the Capitol in such a way as the 
 dignity of the temple and the reputation of our empire re- 
 quires. And if they understand that you show a proper in- 
 dignation at this kingly present being intercepted, they will 
 then think that their zeal and their presents will be accept- 
 able to you and to the Roman people. But if they hear that 
 you have been indifferent to the complaint of so great a king, 
 in so remarkable a case, in one of such bitter injustice, they 
 will not be so crazy as to spend their time, and labor, and 
 expense on things which they do not think will be acceptable 
 to you. 
 
 XXXI. And in this place I appeal to yon, O Quintus 
 Catulus j 1 for I am speaking of your most honorable and most 
 splendid monument. You ought to take upon yourself not 
 only the severity of a judge with respect to this crime, but 
 
 1 The Capitol had been burned in the civil war between Marius and 
 Sylla ; and it was now being restored under the superintendence oi 
 Quintus Catulus, to whom that office had been intrusted by the senate 
 
544 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 something like the vehemence of an enemy and an accuser. 
 For, through the kindness of the senate and people of Rome, 
 your honor is connected with that temple. Your name is 
 consecrated at the same time as that temple in the everlast- 
 ing recollection of men. It is by you that this case is to be 
 encountered ; by you, that this labor is to be undergone, in 
 order that the Capitol, as it has been restored more magnifi- 
 cently, may also be adorned more splendidly than it was 
 originally ; that then that fire may seem to have been sent 
 from heaven not to destroy the temple of the great and good 
 Jupiter, but to demand one for him more noble and more 
 magnificent. You have heard Quintus Minucius Rufus say, 
 that King Antiochus staid at his house while at Syracuse; 
 that he knew that this candelabrum had been taken to Ver- 
 res's house ; that he knew that it had not been returned. 
 You heard, and you shall hear from the whole body of Roman 
 settlers at Syracuse, that they will state to you that in their 
 hearing it was dedicated and consecrated to the good and great 
 Jupiter by King Antiochus. If you were not a judge, and 
 this affair were reported to you, it would be your especial 
 duty to follow it up ; to reclaim the candelabrum, and to pros- 
 ecute this cause. So that I do not doubt what ought to be 
 your feelings as judge in this prosecution, when before any 
 one else as judge you ought to be a much more vehement ad- 
 vocate and accuser than I am. 
 
 XXXII. And to you, O judges, what can appear more 
 scandalous or more intolerable than this 1 ? Shall Yerres have 
 at his own house a candelabrum, made of jewels and gold, 
 belonging to the great and good Jupiter? Shall that orna- 
 ment be set out in his house at banquets which will be one 
 scene of adultery and debauchery, with the brilliancy of which 
 the temple of the great and good Jupiter ought to glow and 
 to be lighted up? Shall the decorations of the Capitol be 
 placed in the house of that most infamous debauchee with 
 the other ornaments which he has inherited from Chelidon ? 
 "What do you suppose will ever be considered sacred or holy 
 by him, when he does not now think himself liable to punish- 
 ment for such enormous wickedness? who dares to come into 
 this court of justice, where lie can not, like all others who are 
 arraigned, pray to the great and good Jupiter, and entreat 
 help from him? from whom even the immortal gods are re- 
 claiming their property, before that tribunal which was ap 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 54o 
 
 pointed for the benefit of men, that they might recover what 
 had been extorted unjustly from them I Do we marvel that 
 Minerva at Athens, Apollo at Delos, Juno at Samos, Diana 
 at Perga, and that many other gods besides all over Asia and 
 Greece, were plundered by him, when he could not keep his 
 hands off the Capitol ? That temple which private men are 
 decorating and are intending to decorate out of their own 
 riches, that Caius Verres would not suffer to be decorated by 
 a king ; and, accordingly, after he had once conceived this ne- 
 farious wickedness, he considered nothing in all Sicilv after- 
 ward sacred or hallowed ; and he behaved himself in his prov- 
 ince for three years in such a manner that war was thought 
 to have been declared by him, not only against men, but also 
 against the immortal gods. 
 
 XXXIII. Segesta is a very ancient town in Sicily, O judges, 
 which its inhabitants assert was founded by ^Eneas when he 
 was flying from Troy and coming to this country. And ac- 
 cordingly the Segestans think that they are connected with 
 the Roman people, not only by a perpetual alliance and friend- 
 ship, but even by some relationship. This town, as the state 
 of the Segestans was at war with the Carthaginians on its 
 own account and of its own accord, was formerly stormed 
 and destroyed by the Carthaginians ; and every thing which 
 could be any ornament to the city was transported from 
 thence to Carthage. There was among; the Segestans a stat- 
 ue of Diana, of brass, not only invested with the most sacred 
 character, but also wrought with the most exquisite skill and 
 beauty. "When transferred to Carthage, it only changed its 
 situation and its worshipers ; it retained its former sanctity. 
 For on account of its eminent beauty it seemed, even to their 
 enemies, worthy of being most religiously worshiped. Some 
 ages afterward, Publius Scipio took Carthage in the third Pu- 
 nic war ; after which victory (remark the virtue and careful- 
 ness of the man, so that you may both rejoice at your na- 
 tional examples of most eminent virtue, and may also judge 
 the incredible audacity of Yerres, worthy of the greater ha- 
 tred by contrasting it with that virtue), he summoned all 
 the Sicilians, because he knew that during a long period of 
 time Sicily had repeatedly been ravaged by the Carthagini- 
 ans, and bids them seek for all they had lost, and promises 
 them to take the greatest pains to insure the restoration to 
 the different cities of every thing which had belonged to then*. 
 
546 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 Then those things which had formerly been removed from 
 Himera, and which I have mentioned before, were restored 
 to the people of Thermae ; some things were restored to the 
 Gelans, some to the Agrigentines ; among which was that 
 noble bull, which that most cruel of all tyrants, Phalaris, is 
 said to have had, into which he was accustomed to put men 
 for punishment, and to put fire under. And when Scipio re- 
 stored that bull to the Agrigentines, he is reported to have 
 said, that he thought it reasonable for them to consider wheth- 
 er it Avas more advantageous to the Sicilians to be subject 
 to their own princes, or to be under the dominion of the 
 Roman people, when they had the same thing as a monu- 
 ment of the cruelty of their domestic masters, and of our lib- 
 erality. 
 
 XXXIV. At that time the same Diana of which I am 
 speaking is restored with the greatest care to the Segestans. 
 It is taken back to Segesta; it is replaced in its ancient sit- 
 uation, to the greatest joy and delight of all the citizens. It 
 was placed at Segesta on a very lofty pedestal, on which was 
 cut in large letters the name of Publius Africanus ; and a 
 statement was also engraved that " he had restored it after 
 having taken Carthage." It was worshiped by the citizens ; 
 it was visited by all strangers ; when I was quaestor it was the 
 very first thing they showed me. It was a very large and 
 tall statue with a flowing robe, but in spite of its large size it 
 gave the idea of the age and dress of a virgin ; her arrows 
 hung from her shoulder, in her left hand she carried her bow, 
 her right hand held a burning torch. When that enemy of 
 all sacred things, that violator of all religious scruples saw 
 it, he began to burn with covetousness and insanity, as if he 
 himself had been struck with that torch. He commands the 
 magistrates to take the statue down and give it to him ; and 
 declares to them that nothing can be more agreeable* to him. 
 But they said that it was impossible for them to do so ; that 
 they were prevented from doing so, not only by the most ex- 
 treme religious reverence, but also by the greatest respect for 
 their own laws and courts of justice. Then he began to en- 
 treat this favor of them, then to threaten them, then to try 
 and excite their hopes, then to arouse their fears. They op- 
 posed to his demands the name of Africanus ; they said that 
 it was the gift of the Eoman people; that they themselves had 
 no right over a thing which a most illustrious general, having 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 547 
 
 taken a city of the enemy, had chosen to stand there as a mon- 
 ument of the victory of the Roman people. As he did not re- ) 
 lax in his demand, but urged it every day with daily increasing 
 earnestness, the matter was brought before their senate. His 
 demand raises a violent outcry on all sides. And so at that 
 time, and at his first arrival at Segesta, it is refused. After- 
 ward, whatever burdens could be imposed on any city in re- 
 spect of exacting sailors and rowers, or in levying corn, he im- 
 posed on the Segestans beyond all other cities, and a good deal 
 more than they could bear. Besides that, he used to summon 
 their magistrates before him ; he used to send for all the most 
 noble and most virtuous of the citizens, to hurry them about 
 with him to all the courts of justice in the province, to threat- 
 en every one of them separately to be the ruin of him, and to 
 announce to them all in a body that he would utterly destroy 
 their city. Therefore, at last, the Segestans, subdued by much 
 ill treatment and by great fear, resolved to obey the command 
 of the praetor. With great grief and lamentation on the part 
 of the whole city, with many tears and wailings on the part 
 of all the men and women, a contract is advertised for taking 
 down the statue of Diana. 
 
 XXXV. See now with what religious reverence it is re- 
 garded. Know, O judges, that among all the Segestans none 
 was found, whether free man or slave, whether citizen or for- 
 eigner, to dare to touch that statue. Know that some barba- 
 rian workmen were brought from Lilybaeum ; they at length, 
 ignorant of the whole business, and of the religious character - 
 of the image, agreed to take it down for a sum of money, and 
 took it down. And when it was being taken out of the city, 
 how o-reat was the concourse of women ! how great was the 
 weeping of the old men ! some of whom even recollected that 
 day when that same Diana being brought back to Segesta from 
 Carthage, had announced to them, by its return, the victory 
 of the Roman people. How different from that time did this 
 day seem ! then the general of the Roman people, a most illus- 
 trious man, was bringing back to the Segestans the gods of 
 their fathers, recovered from an enemy's city ; now a most 
 base and profligate praetor of the same Roman people, wa3 
 taking away, with the most nefarious wickedness, those very 
 same gods from a city of his allies. What is more notorious y\ 
 throughout all Sicily than that all the matrons and virgins of 
 Begesta came together when Diana was being taken out of their 
 
548 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 city? that they anointed her with precious unguents'? that 
 they crowned her with chaplets and flowers'? that they at- 
 tended her to the borders of their territory with frankincense 
 and burning perfumes ? If at the time you, by reason of your 
 covetousness and audacity, did not, while in command, fear 
 these religious feelings of the population, do you not fear them 
 now, at a time of such peril to yourself and to your children? 
 What man, against the will of the immortal gods, or what god, 
 when you so trample on all the religious reverence due to them, 
 do you think will come to your assistance I Has that Diana 
 inspired you, while in quiet and at leisure, with no religious 
 awe ; — she, who though she had seen two cities, in which she 
 was placed, stormed and burned, was yet twice preserved from 
 the flames and weapons of two wars; she who, though she 
 changed her situation owing to the victory of the Carthagini- 
 ans, yet did not lose her holy character ; and who, by the val- 
 or of Publius Africanus, afterward recovered her old worship, 
 together with her old situation? And when this crime had 
 been executed, as the pedestal was empty, and the name of 
 Publius Africanus carved on it, the affair appeared scandalous 
 and intolerable to every one, that not only was religion tram- 
 pled on, but also that Caius Verres had taken away the glory 
 of the exploits, the memorial of the virtues, the monument of 
 the victory of Publius Africanus, that most gallant of men. 
 But when he was told afterward of the pedestal and the in- 
 scription, he thought that men would forget the whole affair, 
 if he took away the pedestal too, which was serving as a sort 
 of sign-post to point out his crime. And so, by his command, 
 the Segestans contracted to take away the pedestal too; and 
 the terms of that contract were read to you from the public 
 registers of the Segestans, at the former pleading. 
 
 XXXYI. Now, O Publius Scipio, I appeal to 3011 ; to you, 
 1 say, a most virtuous and accomplished youth ; from you I 
 request and demand that assistance which is due to your fam- 
 ily and to your name. Why do you take 'the part of that man 
 who has embezzled the credit and honor of your family ? Why 
 do 3'ou wish him to be defended? Why am I undertaking 
 what is properly your business? Why am I supporting a bur- 
 den which ought to fall on you? — Marcus Tullius is reclaim- 
 ing the monuments of Publius Africanus ; Publius Scipio is 
 defending the man who took them away. Though it is a prin- 
 ciple handed down to us from our ancestors, for every one to 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 549 
 
 defend the monuments of his ancestors, in such a way as not 
 even to allow them to be decorated by one of another name, 
 will you take the part of that man who is not charged merely 
 with having in some degree spoiled the view of the monuments 
 of Publius Scipio, but who has entirely removed and destroyed 
 them? Who then, in the name of the immortal gods, will de- 
 fend the memory of Publius Scipio now that he is dead ? who 
 will defend the memorials and evidences of his valor, if you 
 desert and abandon them ; and not only allow them to be 
 plundered and taken away, but even defend their plunderer 
 and destroyer? The Segestans are present, your clients, the 
 allies and friends of the Roman people. They inform you that 
 Publrus Africanus, when he had destroyed Carthage, restored 
 tne image of Diana to their ancestors ; and that was set up 
 among the Segestans and dedicated in the name of that gen- 
 eral ; — that Verres has had it taken down and carried away, 
 and as far as that is concerned, has utterly effaced and extin- 
 guished the name of Publius Scipio. They entreat and pray 
 you to restore the object of their worship to them, its proper 
 credit and glory to your own family, so enabling them by your 
 assistance to recover from the house of a robber, what they re- 
 covered from the city of their enemies by the beneficence of 
 Publius Africanus. 
 
 XXXVII. What can you reply to them with honor, or 
 what can they do but implore the aid of you and your good 
 faith? They are present, they do implore it. You, O Pub- 
 lius, can protect the honor of your family renown ; you can, 
 you have every advantage which either fortune or nature ever 
 gives to men. I do not wish to anticipate you in gathering 
 the fruit that belongs to you ; I am not covetous of the glory 
 which ought to belong to another. It does not correspond to 
 the modesty of my disposition, while Publius Scipio, a most 
 promising young man, is alive and well, to pnt myself forward 
 as the defender and advocate of the memorials of Publius Scip- 
 io. Wherefore, if you will undertake the advocacy of your 
 family renown, it will behoove me not only to be silent about 
 your monuments, but even to be glad that the fortune of Pub- 
 lius Africanus, though dead, is such, that his honor is defend- 
 ed by those who are of the same family as himself, and that it 
 requires no adventitious assistance. But if your friendship 
 with that man is an obstacle to you, — if you think that this 
 thing which I demand of you is not so intimately connected 
 
550 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 with your duty, — then I, as your locum, towns, will nrceed to 
 your oince, I will undertake that business which 1 have thought 
 not to belong to me. Let that proud aristocracy give up com- 
 plaining that the Roman people willingly gives, and at all 
 times has given, honors to new and diligent men. It is a 
 foolish complaint that virtue should be of the greatest influ- 
 ence in that city which by its virtue governs all nations. Let 
 the image of Publius Africanus be in the houses of other men ; 
 let heroes now dead be adorned with virtue and glory. He 
 was such a man, he deserved so well of the Roman people, 
 that he deserves to be recommended to the affection, not of 
 one single family, but of the whole state. And so it partly 
 does belong to me also to defend his honors with all my pow- 
 er, because I belong to that city which he rendered great, and 
 illustrious, and renowned; and especially, because I practice, 
 to the utmost of my power, those virtues in which he was pre- 
 eminent, — equity, industry, temperance, the protection of the 
 unhappy, and hatred of the dishonest ; a relationship in pur- 
 suits and habits which is almost as important as that of which 
 you boast, the relationship of name and family. 
 
 XXXVIII. I reclaim from you, O Verres, the monument 
 of Publius Africanus ; I abandon the cause of the Sicilians, 
 which I undertook ; let there be no trial of you for extortion 
 at present ; never mind the injuries of the Segestans ; let the 
 pedestal of Publius Africanus be restored ; let the name of that 
 invincible commander be engraved on it anew ; let that most 
 beautiful statue, which was recovered when Carthage was 
 taken, be replaced. It is not I, the defender of the Sicilians, 
 — it is not I, your prosecutor, — they are not the Segestans who 
 demand this of you ; but he who has taken on himself the de- 
 fense and the preservation of the renown and glory of Publius 
 Africanus. I am not afraid of not being able to give a good 
 account of my performance of this duty to Publius Servilius 
 the judge ; who, as he has performed great exploits, and raised 
 very many monuments of his good deeds, and has a natural 
 anxiety about them, will be glad, forsooth, to leave them an 
 object of care and protection not only to his own posterity, but 
 to all brave men and good citizens ; and not as a mark for the 
 plunder of rogues. I am not afraid of its displeasing you, O 
 Quintus Catulus, to whom the most superb and splendid mon- 
 ument in the whole world belongs, that tlieiv should be as 
 many guardians of such monuments as possible, or that all 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 551 
 
 good men should think it was a part of their duty to defend 
 the glory of another. And indeed I am so far moved by the 
 other robberies and atrocities of that fellow, as to think them 
 worthy of great reproof; but that might be sufficient for them. 
 But in this instance I am roused to such indignation, that no- 
 thing appears to me possible to be more scandalous or more 
 intolerable. Shall Vcrres adorn his house, full of adultery, 
 full of debauchery, full of infamy, with the monuments of Af • 
 ricanus *? Shall Verres place the memorial of that most tem- 
 perate and religious man, the image of the ever virgin Diana, 
 in that house in which the iniquities of harlots and pimps are 
 incessantly being practiced 1 
 
 XXXIX. But is this the only monument of Africanus 
 which you have violated ? What ! did you take away from 
 the people of Tyndaris an image of Mercury most beautifully 
 made, and placed there by the beneficence of the same Scipio 1 
 And how 1 O ye immortal gods ! How audaciously, how 
 infamously, how shamelessly did you do so ! You have lately, 
 O judges, heard the deputies from Tyndaris, most honorable 
 men, and the chief men of that city, say that the Mercury, 
 which in their sacred anniversaries was worshiped among 
 them with the extremest religious reverence, which Publius 
 Africanus, after he had taken Carthage, had given to the 
 Tyndaritans, not only as a monument of his victory, but as a 
 memorial and evidence of their loyalty to and alliance with 
 the Roman people, had been taken away by the violence, and 
 wickedness, and arbitrary power of this man ; who, when 
 he first came to their city, in a moment, as if it were not 
 only a becoming, but an indispensable thing to be done, — 
 as if the senate had ordered it and the Roman people had 
 sanctioned it, — in a moment, I say, ordered them to take 
 the statue down and to transport it to Messana. And as this 
 appeared a scandalous thing to those who were present and 
 who heard it, it was not persevered in by him during the first 
 period of his visit ; but when he departed, he ordered Sopater, 
 their chief magistrate, whose statement you have heard, to take 
 it down. When he refused, he threatened him violently ; and 
 then he left the city. The magistrate refers the matter to 
 the senate ; there is a violent outcry on all sides. To make 
 my story short, some time afterward he comes to that city 
 again. Immediately he asks about the statue. He is answer- 
 ed that the senate will not allow it to be removed ; that capi- 
 
552 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 tal punishment is threatened to any one who should touch it 
 without the orders of the senate : the impiety of removing is 
 also urged. Then says he, "What do you mean by talking 
 to me of impiety? or about punishment? or about the senate"? 
 I will not leave you alive ; you shall be scourged to death if 
 the statue is not given up." Sopater with tears reports the 
 matter to the senate a second time, and relates to them the 
 covetousness and the threats of Verres. The senate gives So- 
 pater no answer, but breaks up in agitation and perplexity. 
 Sopater, being summoned by the pra3tor's messenger, informs 
 him of the state of the case, and says that it is absolutely im- 
 possible. 
 
 XL. And all these things (for I do not think that I ought 
 to omit any particular of his impudence) were done openly 
 in the middle of the assembly, while Verres was sitting on his 
 chair of office, in a lofty situation. It was the depth of win- 
 ter ; the weather, as you heard Sopater himself state, was 
 bitterly cold ; heavy rain was falling ; when that fellow or- 
 ders the lictors to throw Sopater headlong down from the 
 portico on which he himself was sitting, and to strip him 
 naked. The command was scarcely out of his mouth, before 
 you might have seen him stripped and surrounded by the 
 lictors. All thought that the unhappy and innocent man 
 was going to be scourged. They were mistaken. Do you 
 think that Verres would scourge without any reason an ally 
 and friend of the Roman people % He is not so wicked. All 
 vices are not to be found in that man ; he was never cruel. 
 He treated the man with great gentleness and clemency. In 
 the middle of the forum there are some statues of the Mar- 
 celli, as there are in most of the other towns of Sicily ; out of 
 these he selected the statue of Caius Marcellus, whose serviees 
 to that city and to the whole province were most recent and 
 most important. On that statue he orders Sopater, a man of 
 noble birth in his city, and at that very time invested with 
 (he chief magistracy, to be placed astride and bound to it. 
 What torture he suffered when he was bound naked in the 
 open air, in the rain and in the cold, must be manifest to 
 every body. Nor did he put an end to this insult and bar- 
 barity, till the people and the whole multitude, moved by the 
 atrocity of his conduct and by pity for his victim, compelled 
 t lie senate by their outcries to promise him that statue of 
 Mercury. They cried X>ut that the immortal gods themselves 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 555 
 
 would avenge the act, and that in the mean time it was not 
 fit that an innocent man should be murdered. Then the 
 senate comes to him in a body, and promises him the statue. 
 And so Sopater is taken down scarcely alive from the statua 
 of Marcellus, to which he had almost become frozen. I can 
 not adequately accuse that man if I were to wish to do so ; 
 it requires not only genius, but an extraordinary amount of 
 skill. 
 
 XLI. This appears to be a single crime, this of the Tynda- 
 ritan Mercury, and it is brought forward by me as a single 
 one ; but there are many crimes contained in it — only I do 
 not know how to separate and distinguish them. It is a case 
 of money extorted, for he took away from the allies a statue 
 worth a large sum of money. It is a case of embezzlement, 
 because he did not hesitate to appropriate a public statue be- 
 longing to the Eoman people, taken from the spoils of the 
 enemy, placed where it was in the name of our general. It is 
 a case of treason, because he dared to overturn and to carry 
 away monuments of our empire, of our glory, and of our ex- 
 ploits. It is a case of impiety, because he violated the most 
 solemn principles of religion. It is a case of inhumanity, be- 
 cause he invented a new and extraordinary description of pun- 
 ishment for an innocent man, an ally and friend of our nation. 
 But what the other crime is, that I am unable to say ; I know 
 not by what name to call the crime which he committed with 
 respect to the statue of Caius Marcellus. What is the mean- 
 ing of it ? Is it because he was the patron of the Sicilians ? 
 What then ! What has that to do with it ! Ought that fact 
 to have had influence to procure assistance, or to bring 
 disaster on his clients and friends ? Was it your object to 
 show that patrons were no protection against your violence % 
 Who is there who would not be aware that there is greater 
 power in the authority of a bad man who is present, than 
 the protection of good men who are absent % Or do you 
 merely wish to prove by this conduct, your unprecedented in- 
 solence, and pride, and obstinacy? You thought, I imagine, 
 that you were taking something from the dignity of the Mar- 
 celli 1 ? And therefore now the Marcelli are not the patrons 
 of the Sicilians. Verres has been substituted in their place. 
 What virtue or what dignity did you think existed in you, 
 that you should attempt to transfer to yourself, and to take 
 awav from these most trusty and most ancient patrons, so illus- 
 
 Aa 
 
554 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 trious a body of clients as that splendid province? Can yea 
 with your stupidity, and worthlessness, and laziness defend the 
 cause, I will not say of all Sicily, but even of one, the very 
 meanest of the Sicilians? Was the statue of Marcellus to 
 Berve you for a pillory for the clients of the Marcelli? Did 
 you out of his honor seek for punishments for those very 
 men who had held him in honor? What foliowed? What 
 did you think would happen to your statues? was it that 
 which did happen? For the people of Tyndaris threw down 
 the statue of Verres, which he had ordered to be erected in 
 his own honor near the Marcelli, and even on a higher pedes- 
 tal, the very moment that they heard that a successor had been 
 appointed to him. 
 
 XLII. The fortune of the Sicilians has then given you 
 Caius Marcellus for a judge, so that we may now surrender 
 you, fettered and bound, to appease the injured sanctity of 
 him to whose statue Sicilians were bound while you were 
 praetor. And in the first place, O judges, that man said that 
 the people of Tyndaris had sold this statue to Caius Mar- 
 cellus .iEserninus, who is here present. And he hoped that 
 Caius Marcellus himself would assert thus much for his sake, 
 though it never seemed to me to be very likely that a voting 
 man born in that rank, the patron of Sicily, would lend his 
 name to that fellow to enable him to transfer his guilt to an- 
 other. But still I made such provision, and took such precau- 
 tion against every possible bearing of the case, that if any one 
 had been found who was ever so anxious to take the guilt and 
 crime of Verres upon himself, still he would not have taken 
 any thing by his motion, for I brought down to court such 
 witnesses, and I had with me such written documents, that 
 it could not have been possible to have entertained a doubt 
 about that man's actions. There are public documents to 
 prove that that Mercury was transported to Mcssana at the 
 expense of the state. They state at what expense ; and that 
 a man named Poleas was ordered by the public authority to 
 superintend the business — what more would you have ? 
 Where is he? He is close at hand, he is a witness, by the 
 command of Sopater the Proagorus. — Who is he? The man 
 who was bound to the statue. What ! where is he ? He is 
 a witness — you have seen the man, and you have heard his 
 statement. Demetrius, the master of the gymnastic school, 
 superintended the pulling down of the statue, because he was 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 55o 
 
 appointed to manage that business. What ? is it we who say 
 this? No, he is present himself; moreover, that Verres him- 
 self lately promised at Rome, that he would restore that stat- 
 ue to the deputies, if the evidence already given in the affair 
 were removed, and if security were given that the Tyndari- 
 tans would not give evidence against him, has been stated be- 
 fore you by Zosippus and Hismenias, most noble men, and the 
 chief men of the city of Tyndaris. 
 
 XLIII. What 1 did you not also at Agrigentum take away 
 a monument of the same Publius Scipio, a most beautiful 
 statue of Apollo, on whose thigh there was the name of Myron, 
 inscribed in diminutive silver letters, out of that most holy 
 temple of .ZEsculapius ? And when, O judges, he had privily 
 committed that atrocity, and when in that most nefarious 
 crime and robbery he had employed some of the most worth- 
 less men of the city as his guides and assistants, the whole city 
 was greatly excited. For the Agrigentines were regretting at 
 the same time the kindness of Africanus, and a national object 
 of their worship, and an ornament of their city, and a record 
 of their victory, and an evidence of their alliance with us. 
 And therefore a command is imposed on those men who were 
 the chief men of the city, and a charge is given to the quaes- 
 tors and asdiles to keep watch by night over the sacred edifices. 
 And, indeed, at Agrigentum (I imagine, on account of the 
 great number and virtue of these men, and because great 
 numbers of Roman citizens, gallant and intrepid and honorable 
 men, live and trade in that town among the Agrigentines in 
 the greatest harmony) he did not dare openly to carry off, or 
 even to beg for the things that took his fancv. There is a 
 temple of Hercules at Agrigentum, not far from the forum, 
 considered very holy and greatly reverenced among the citi- 
 zens. In it there is a brazen image of Hercules himself, than 
 which I can not easily tell where I have seen any thing finer 
 (although I am not very much of a judge of those matters, 
 though I have seen plenty of specimens) ; so greatly venerated 
 among them, O judges, that his mouth and his chin are a 
 little worn away, because men in addressing their prayers and 
 congratulations to him, are accustomed not only to worship 
 the statue, but even to kiss it. AVhile Verres was at Agrigen- 
 turn, on a sudden, one stormy night, a great assemblage of 
 armed slaves, and a great attack on this temple by them, takes 
 place, under the leading of Timarchides. A cry is raised bv the 
 
 11 
 
556 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 watchmen and guardians of the temple. And, at first, when 
 they attempted to resist them and to defend the temple, they 
 are driven back much injured with sticks and bludgeons. 
 Afterward, when the bolts were forced open, and the doors 
 dashed in, they endeavor to pull down the statue and to over- 
 throw it with levers ; meantime, from the outcries of the keep- 
 ers, a report got abroad over the whole city, that the national 
 gods were being stormed, not by the unexpected invasion of 
 enemies, or by the sudden irruption of pirates, but that a well- 
 armed and fully-equipped band of fugitive slaves from the 
 house and retinue of the prsetor had attacked them. No one 
 in Afirri^entum was either so advanced in age, or so infirm in 
 strength, as not to rise up on that night, awakened by that 
 news, and to seize whatever weapon chance put into his hands. 
 So in a very short time men are assembled at the temple from 
 every part of the city. Already, for more than an hour, num- 
 bers of men had been laboring at pulling down that statue ; 
 and all that time it gave no sign of being shaken in any part ; 
 while some, putting levers under it, were endeavoring to throw 
 it down, and others, having bound cords to all its limbs, were 
 trying to pull it toward them. On a sudden all the Agrigen- 
 tines collect together at the place ; stones are thrown in num- 
 bers ; the nocturnal soldiers of that illustrious commander run 
 away — but they take with them two very small statues, in 
 order not to return to that robber of all holy things entirely 
 empty-handed. The Sicilians are never in such distress as 
 not to be able to say something facetious and neat ; as they 
 did on this occasion. And so they said that this enormous 
 boar had a right to be accounted one of the labors of Her- 
 cules, no less than the other boar of Ervmanthus. 
 
 XLIV. The people of Assorum, gallant and loyal men, 
 afterward imitated this brave conduct of the Agrigentines, 
 though they did not come of so powerful or so distinguished 
 a city. There is a river called Chrysas, which flows through 
 the territories of Assorum. Chrysas, among that people, is 
 considered a god, and is worshiped with the greatest rever- 
 ence. His temple is in the fields, near the road which goes 
 from Assorum to Enna. In it there is an image of Chrysas, 
 exquisitely made of marble. He did not dare to beg that of 
 the Assorians on account of the extraordinary sanctity of that 
 temple; so he intrusts the business to Tlepohinus and Hiero. 
 They, having prepared' and armed a body of men, come by 
 
AGAINST YERRES. 5 I 
 
 night ; they break in the doors of the temple ; tho keepers of 
 the temple and the guardians hear them in time. A trumpet, 
 the signal of alarm well known to all the neighborhood, is 
 sounded ; men come in from the country. Tlepolemus is 
 turned out and put to flight ; nor was any thing missed out of 
 the temple of Chrysas except one very diminutive image of 
 brass. There is a temple of the mighty mother Cybele at 
 Enguinum, for I must now not only mention each instance 
 with the greatest brevity, but I must even pass over a great 
 many, in order to come to the greater and more remarkable 
 thefts and atrocities of this sort which this man has commit- 
 ted. In this temple that same Publius Scipio, a man excel- 
 ling in every possible good quality, had placed breast -plateg 
 and helmets of brass of Corinthian workmanship, and some 
 huge ewers of a similar description, and wrought with the 
 same exquisite skill, and had inscribed his own name upon 
 them. "Why should I make any more statements or utter any 
 farther complaints about that man's conduct ? He took 
 away, O judges, every one of those things. He left nothing 
 in that most holy temple except the traces of the religion he 
 had trampled on, and the name of Publius Scipio. The spoils 
 won from the enemy, the memorials of our commanders, the 
 ornaments and decorations of our temples, will hereafter, when 
 these illustrious names are lost, be reckoned in the furniture 
 and appointments of Caius Verres. Are you, forsooth, the 
 only man who delights in Corinthian vases? Are you the 
 best judge in the world of the mixture of that celebrated 
 bronze, and of the delicate tracery of that work l ? Did not 
 the great Scipio, that most learned and accomplished man, 
 understand it too? But do you, a man without one single 
 virtue, without education, without natural ability, and withoui 
 any information, understand them and value them ) Beware 
 lest he be seen to have surpassed you and those other men 
 who wished to be thought so elegant, not only in temperance, 
 but in judgment and taste ; for it was because he thoroughly 
 understood how beautiful they were, that he thought that 
 they were made not for the luxury of men, but for the orna- 
 menting of temples and cities, in order that they night appear 
 to our posterity to be holy and sacred monuinem.-. 
 
 XLV. Listen, also, O judges, to the man's singular covet- 
 ousness, audacity and madness, especially in polluting those 
 sacred things, which not only may not be touched with the 
 
558 CICERO'S ORAl.ONS. 
 
 hands, but which may not be violated even in thought. There 
 is a shrine of Ceres among the Catenans of the same holy 
 nature as the one at Rome, and worshiped as the goddess is 
 worshiped among foreign nations, and in almost every coun- 
 try in the world. In the inmost part of that shrine there 
 was an extremely ancient statue of Ceres, as to which men 
 were not only ignorant of what sort it was, but even of its 
 existence. For the entrance into that shrine docs not belong 
 to men, the sacred ceremonies are accustomed to be performed 
 by women and virgins. Verres's slaves stole this statue by 
 night out of that most holy and most ancient temple. The 
 next day the priestesses of Ceres, and the female attendants 
 of that temple, women of great age, noble, and of proved vir- 
 tue, report the affair to their magistrates. It appeared to all 
 a most bitter, and scandalous, and miserable business. Then 
 that man, influenced by the atrocity of the action, in order 
 that all suspicion of that crime might be removed from him- 
 self, employs some one connected with him by ties of hospi- 
 tality to find a man that he might accuse of having done it, 
 and bids him take care that he be convicted of the accusation, 
 so that he himself might not be subject to the charge. The 
 matter is not delayed. For when he had departed from Cati- 
 na, an information is laid against a certain slave. He is ac- 
 cused ; false witnesses are suborned against him ; the whole 
 senate sits in judgment on the affair, according to the laws of 
 the Catenans. The priestesses are summoned ; they are ex- 
 amined secretly in the senate-house, and asked what had been 
 done, and how they thought that the statue had been carried 
 off. They answered that the servants of the prastor had been 
 seen in the temple. The matter, which previously had not 
 been very obscure, began to be clear enough by the evidence 
 of the priestesses. The judges deliberate ; the innocent slave 
 is acquitted by every vote, in order that you may the more 
 easily be able to condemn this man by all your votes. For 
 what is it that you ask, O Verres ? What do you hope for ? 
 What do you expect? What god or man do you think will 
 come to your assistance ? Did you send slaves to that place 
 to plunder a temple, where it was not lawful for free citizens 
 to go, not even for the purpose of praying ! Did you not hes- 
 jtate to lay violent hands on those things from which the laws 
 of religion enjoined you to keep even your eyes? Although 
 it was not even because you were charmed by the eye that 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 559 
 
 you were led into this wicked and nefarious conduct ; for you 
 coveted what you had never seen. You took a violent fancy, 
 I say, to that which you had not previously beheld. From 
 your ears did you conceive this covetousness, so violent that 
 no fear, no religious scruple, no power of the god?, no regard 
 for the opinion of men could restrain it. Oh ! but you had 
 heard of it, I suppose, from some good man, from some good 
 authority. How could you have done that, when you could 
 never have heard of it from any man at all ? You heard of it, 
 therefore, from a woman ; since men could not have seen it, 
 nor known of it. What sort of woman do you think that she 
 must have been, O judges'? What a modest woman must she 
 have been to converse with Verres ! What a pious woman, 
 to show him a plan for robbing a temple ! But it is no great 
 wonder if those sacred ceremonies which are performed by the 
 most extreme chastity of virgins and matrons were violated by 
 his adultery and profligacy. 
 
 XL VI. What, then, are we to think ? Is this the only 
 thin" - that he began to desire from mere hearing, when he had 
 never seen it himself? No, there were many other things be- 
 sides ; of which I will select the plundering of that most no- 
 ble and ancient temple, concerning which you heard witnesses 
 give their evidence at the former pleading. Now, I beseech 
 you, listen to the same story once more, and attend carefully 
 as you hitherto have done. There is an island called Melita, 
 O judges, separated from Sicily by a sufficiently wide and per- 
 ilous navigation, in which there is a town of the same name, 
 to which Verres never went, though it was for three years a 
 manufactory to him for weaving women's garments. Not far 
 from that town, on a promontory, is an ancient temple of 
 Juno, which was always considered so holy, that it was not 
 only always kept inviolate and sacred in those Punic wars, 
 which in those regions were carried on almost wholly by the 
 naval forces, but even by the bands of pirates which ravage 
 those seas. Moreover, it has been handed down to us by tra- 
 dition, that once, when the fleet of King Masinissa was forced 
 to put into these ports, the king's lieutenant took away some 
 ivory teeth of an incredible size out of the temple, and carried 
 them into Africa, and gave them to Masinissa ; that at first 
 the king was delighted with the present, but afterward, when 
 he heard where they had come from, he immediately sent 
 trustworthy men in a quinquereme to take thosfc teeth back ; 
 
560 CiCERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 and that there was engraved on them in Punic characters, 
 " that Masinissa the king had accepted them jgnorantly ; but 
 that, when he knew the truth, he had taken care that they 
 should be replaced and restored." There was besides an im- 
 mense quantity of ivory, and many ornaments, among which 
 were some ivory Victories of ancient workmanship, and 
 wrought with exquisite skill. Not to dwell too long on this, 
 he took care to have all these things taken down and car- 
 ried off at one swoop by means of the slaves of the Venus 
 whom he had sent thither for that purpose. 
 
 XLVII. O ye immortal gods ! what sort of man is it that 
 I am accusing? Whom is it that I am prosecuting according 
 to our laws, and by this regular process ? Concerning whom 
 is it that you are going to give your judicial decision I The 
 deputies from Melita sent by the public authority of their 
 state, say that the shrine of Juno was plundered ; that that 
 man left nothing in that most holy temple ; that that place, 
 to which the fleets of enemies often came, where pirates are 
 accustomed to winter almost every year, and which no pirate 
 ever violated, no enemy ever attacked before, was so plunder- 
 ed by that single man, that nothing whatever was left in it. 
 What, then, now are we to say of him as a defendant, of me 
 as an accuser, of this tribunal 1 Is he proved guilty of grave 
 crimes, or is he brought into this court on mere suspicion? 
 Gods are proved to have been carried off, temples to have 
 been plundered, cities to have been stripped of every thing. 
 And of those actions he has left himself no power of denying 
 one, no plea for defending one. In every particular he is con- 
 victed by me ; he is detected by the witnesses ; he is over- 
 whelmed by his own admissions ; he is caught in the evident 
 commission of guilt ; and even now he remains here, and in 
 silence recognizes his own crimes as I enumerate them. 
 
 I seem to myself to have been too long occupied with one 
 class of crime. I am aware, O judges, that I have to encoun- 
 ter the weariness of your ears and eyes at such a repetition 
 of similar cases ; I will, therefore, pass over many instances. 
 But I entreat you, O judges, in the name of the immortal 
 gods, in the name of these very gods of whose honor and 
 worship we have been so long speaking, refresh your minds 
 so as to attend to what I am about to mention, while I bring 
 forward and detail to you that crime of his by which the 
 whole province was roused, and in speaking of which you 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 561 
 
 will pardon me if I appear to go back rather far, and trace 
 the earliest recollections of the religious observances in ques- 
 tion. The importance of the affair will not allow me to pass 
 over the atrocity of his guilt with brevity. 
 
 XL Y III. It is an old opinion, O judges, which can be 
 proved from the most ancient records and monuments of the 
 Greeks, that the whole island of Sicily was consecrated to 
 Ceres and Libera. Not only did all other nations think so, 
 but the Sicilians themselves were so convinced of it, that it 
 appeared a deeply-rooted and innate belief in their minds. 
 For they believe that these goddesses were born in these dis- 
 tricts, and that corn was first discovered in this land, and that 
 Libera was carried off, the same goddess whom they call Pros- 
 erpine, from a grove in the territory of Emm, a place which, 
 because it is situated in the centre of the island, is called the 
 navel of Sicilv. And when Ceres wished to seek her and 
 trace her out, she is said to have lit her torches at those 
 flames which burst out at the summit of JEtna, and carrying 
 these torches before her, to have wandered over the whole 
 earth. But Enna, where those things which I am speaking ( 
 of are said to have been done, is in a high and lofty situation, 
 on the top of which is a large level plain, and springs of wa- 
 ter which are never dry. And the whole of the plain is cut 
 off and separated, so as to be difficult of approach. Around 
 it are many lakes and groves, and beautiful flowers at every 
 season of the year ; so that the place itself appears to testify- 
 to that abduction of the virgin which we have heard of from 
 our bovhood. 1 Near it is a cave turned toward the north, of 
 unfathomable depth, where they say that Father Pluto sud- 
 denly rose out of the earth in his chariot, and carried the vir- 
 gin off from that spot, and that on a sudden, at no great dis- 
 tance from Syracuse, he w r ent down beneath the earth, and 
 that immediately a lake sprang up in that place ; and there 
 to this day the Syracusans celebrate anniversary festivals with 
 a most numerous assemblage of both sexes. 
 
 XLIX. On account of the antiquity of this belief, because 
 in those places the traces and almost the cradles of those gods 
 are found, the worship of Ceres of Enna prevails to a wonder- 
 
 1 We have the same advantage as, or rather greater advantages than 
 Cicero in this respect ; for we have heard the story from our boyhood 
 told far more beautifully than any Sicilian ever imagined it- See Ovid, 
 Fasti, iv. 419. 
 
 Aa2 
 
562 CICERO'S ORATIONS 
 
 ful extent, both in private and in public over all Sicily. In 
 truth, many prodigies often attest her influence and divine 
 powers. Her present help is often brought to many in crit- 
 ical circumstances, so that this island appears not only to be 
 loved, but also to be watched over and protected by her. Nor 
 is it the Sicilians only, but even all other tribes and nations 
 greatly worship Ceres of Enna. In truth, if initiation into 
 those sacred mysteries of the Athenians is sought for with the 
 greatest avidity, to which people Ceres is said to have come 
 iii that long wandering of hers, and then she brought them 
 corn, how much greater reverence ought to be paid to her 
 by those people among whom it is certain that she was born, 
 and first discovered corn. And, therefore, in the time of our 
 fathers, at a most disastrous and critical time to the republic, 
 when, after the death of Tiberius Gracchus, there was a fear 
 that great dangers were portended to the state by various prod- 
 igies, in the consulship of Publius Mucius and Lucius Calpur- 
 nius, recourse was had to the Sibylline books, in which it was 
 found set down, "that the most ancient Ceres ought to be ap- 
 peased." Then, priests of the Roman people, selected from 
 the most honorable college of decemvirs, although there was 
 in our own city a most beautiful and magnificent temple of 
 Ceres, nevertheless went as far as Enna. For such was the 
 authority and antiquity of the reputation for holiness of that 
 place, that when they went thither, they seemed to be going 
 not to a temple of Ceres, but to Ceres herself. I will not din 
 this into your ears any longer. I have been some time afraid 
 that my speech may appear unlike the usual fashion of speech- 
 es at trials, unlike the daily method of speaking. This I say, 
 that this very Ceres, the most ancient, the most holy, the very 
 chief of all sacred things which are honored by every people, 
 and in every nation, was carried off by Caius A^erres from her 
 temple and her home. Ye who have been to Enna, have seen 
 a statue of Ceres made of marble, and in the other temple a 
 statue of Libera. They are very colossal and very beautiful, 
 but not exceedingly ancient. There was one of brass, of mod- 
 erate size, but extraordinary workmanship, with the torches 
 in its hands, very ancient, by far the most ancient of all those 
 statues which are in that temple ; that lie. carried off, and yet 
 he was not content with that. Before the temple of Ceres, in 
 an open and an uncovered place, there are two statues, one of 
 Ceres, the other of Triptolemus, very beautiful, and of colossal 
 
AGAINST VERRES 5C3 
 
 size. ^Theii- beauty was their danger, but their size their safe- 
 ty ; because the taking of them down and carrying them off 
 appeared very difficult. But in the right hand of Ceres there 
 stood a beautifully-wrought image of Victory ; and this he had 
 wrenched out of the hand of Ceres and carried off. 
 
 L. What now must be his feelings at the recollection of his 
 crimes, when I, at the mere enumeration of them, am not only 
 roused to indignation in my mind, but even shudder over my 
 whole body ? For thoughts of that temple, of that place, of 
 that holy religion come into my mind. Every thing seems 
 present before my eyes, — the day on which, when I had ar- 
 rived at Enna, the priests of Ceres came to meet me with gar- 
 lands of vervain, and with fillets ; the concourse of citizens, 
 among whom, while I was addressing them, there was such / 1 * 
 weeping and groaning that the most bitter grief seemed to 
 have taken possession of the whole. They did not complain 
 of the absolute way in which the tenths were levied, nor of 
 the plunder of property, nor of the iniquity of tribunals, nor 
 of that man's unhallowed lusts, nor of his violence, nor of the 
 insults by which they had been oppressed and overwhelmed. 
 It was the divinity of Ceres, the antiquity of their ?acred ob- 
 servances, the holy veneration due to their temple, which they 
 wished should have atonement made to them by the punish- 
 ment of that most atrocious and audacious man. They said 
 that they could endure every thing else ; that to every thing 
 else thev were indifferent. This indignation of theirs was so 
 great, that you might suppose that Yerres, like another king 
 of hell, had come to Enna and had carried off, not Proserpine. 
 but Ceres herself. And, in truth, that city does not appeal 
 to be a city, but a shrine of Ceres. The people of Enna think 
 that Ceres dwells among them ; so that they appear to me not 
 to be citizens of that city, but to be all priests, to be all min- 
 isters and officers of Ceres. Did you dare to take away out 
 of Enna the statue of Ceres? Did you ttempt at Enna to 
 wrench Victory out of the hand of Ceres ? to tear one goddess 
 from the other? — nothing of which those men dared to violate, 
 or even to touch, whose qualities were all more akin to wick- 
 edness than to religion. For while Publius Popillius and 
 Publius Rupilius were consuls, slaves, runaway slaves, and bar- 
 barians, and enemies, were in possession of that place : tut yet 
 the slaves were not so much slaves to their own mastej s, as you 
 are to your passions ; nor <£ ; «2 *JSe runaways flee from their mas- 
 
564 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 ters as far as you flee from all laws and from all rigliflL nor 
 were the barbarians as barbarous in language and in race as 
 you are in your nature and your habits ; nor were the enemies 
 as much enemies to men as you are to the immortal gods. How, 
 then, can a man beg for any mercy who has surpassed slaves 
 in baseness, runaway slaves in rashness, barbarians in wicked- 
 ness, and enemies in inhumanity'? 
 
 LI. You heard Theodorus and Numinius and Nieasio, dep- 
 uties from Enna, say, in the name of their state, that they had 
 this commission from their fellow-citizens, to go to Yerres, and 
 to demand from him the restoration of the statues of Ceres 
 and of Victory. And if they obtained it, then they were to 
 adhere to the ancient customs of the state of Enna, not to give 
 any public testimony against him, although he had oppressed 
 Sicily, since these were the principles which they had received 
 from their ancestors. But if he did not restore them, then 
 they were to go before the tribunal, to inform the judges of 
 the injuries they had received, but, far above all things, to 
 complain of the insults to their religion. And, in the name 
 of the immortal gods, I entreat you, O j udges, do not you de- 
 spise, do not you scorn or think lightly of their complaints. 
 The injuries done to our allies are the present question ; the 
 authority of the laws is at stake ; the reputation and the hon- 
 esty of our courts of justice is at stake. And though all these 
 are great considerations, yet this is the greatest of all, — the 
 whole province is so imbued with religious feeling, such a su- 
 perstitious dread arising out of that man's conduct has seized 
 upon the minds of all the Sicilians, that whatever public or 
 private misfortunes happen, appear to befall them because of 
 that man's wickedness. You have heard the Centuripans, the 
 Agyrians, the Catenans, the Herbitans, the Ennans, and many 
 other deputies say, in the name of their states, how great was 
 the solitude in their districts, how great the devastation, how 
 universal the flight of the cultivators of the soil ; how desert' 
 ed, how uncultivated, how desolate every place was. And 
 although there are many and various injuries done by that 
 man to which these things are owing, still this one cause, in 
 the opinion of the Sicilians, is the most weighty of all ; for, 
 because of the insults offered to Ceres, they believe that all 
 the crops and gifts of Ceres have perished in these districts. 
 Bring remedies, O judges, to the insulted religion of the allies ; 
 preserve your own, for this is not *» foreign religion, nor one 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 565 
 
 with which you have no concern. But even if it were, if you 
 were unwilling to adopt it yourselves, still you ought to be 
 willing to inflict heavy punishment on the man who violated 
 it. But now that the common religion of all nations is attack- 
 ed in this way, now that these sacred observances are violated 
 which our ancestors adopted and imported from foreign coun- 
 tries, and have honored ever since, — sacred observances, which 
 they called Greek observances, as in truth they were. — even if 
 we were to wish to be indifferent and cold about these mat- 
 ters, how could we be so % 
 
 IJLI. I will mention the sacking of one city, also, and that 
 the most beautiful and highly decorated of all, the city of 
 Syracuse. And I will produce my proofs of that, O judges, 
 in order at length to conclude and bring to an end the whole 
 history of offenses of this sort. There is scarcely any one of 
 you who has not often heard how Syracuse was taken by 
 Marcus Marcellus, and who has not sometimes also read the 
 account in our annals. Compare this peace with that war ; 
 the visit of this praetor with the victory of that general ; the 
 debauched retinue of the one with the invincible army of the 
 other ; the lust of Verres with the continence of Marcellus ; — 
 and you will say that Syracuse was built by the man who 
 took it ; was taken by the man who received it well estab- 
 lished and flourishing. And for the present I omit those 
 things which will be mentioned, and have been already men- 
 tioned by me in an irregular manner in different parts of my 
 speech — that the market-place of the Syracusans, which at 
 the entrance of Marcellus was preserved unpolluted by slaugh- 
 ter, on the arrival of Verres overflowed with the blood of in- 
 nocent Sicilians ; that the harbor of the Syracusans, which at 
 that time was shut against both our fleets and those of the 
 Carthaginians, was, while Verres was praetor, open to Cilician 
 pirates, or even to a single piratical galley. I say nothing of 
 the violence offered to people of noble birth, of the ravishment 
 of matrons, atrocities which then, when the city was taken, 
 were not committed, neither through the hatred of enemies, 
 nor through military license, nor through the customs of war 
 or the rights of victory. I pass over, I say, all these things 
 which were done by that man for three whole years. Listen 
 rather to acts which are connected with those matters of which 
 T have hitherto been speaking. You have often heard that the 
 city of Syracuse is the greatest of the Greek cities, and the 
 
Z66 CICERO'S ORATIONS. • 
 
 most beautiful of all. It is so, O judges, as it is said to be; 
 for it is so by its situation, which is strongly fortified, and 
 which is on every side by which you can approach it, whether 
 by sea or land, very beautiful to behold. And it has harbors 
 almost inclosed within the walls, and in the sight of the whole 
 city ; harbors which have different entrances, but which meet 
 together, and are connected at the other end. By their union 
 a part of the town, which is called the island, being separated 
 from the rest by a narrow arm of the sea, is again joined to and 
 connected with the other by a bridge. 
 
 LIU. That city is so great that it may be said to consist 
 of four cities of the largest size ; one of which, as I have said, 
 is that "Island," which, surrounded by two harbors, projects 
 out toward the mouth and entrance of each. In it there is a 
 palace which did belong to king Hiero, which our pra?tors are 
 in the habit of using ; in it are many sacred buildings, but 
 two, which have a great pre-eminence over all the others, — 
 one a temple of Diana, and the other one, which before the 
 arrival of that man was the most ornamented of all, sacred to 
 Minerva. At the end of this island is a fountain of sweet 
 water, the name of which is Arethusa, of incredible size, very 
 full of fish, which would be entirely overwhelmed by the 
 waves of the sea, if it were not protected from the sea by a 
 rampart and dam of stone. There is also another city at 
 Syracuse, the name of which is Achradina, in which there is 
 a very large forum, most beautiful porticoes, a highly decora- 
 ted town-hall, a most spacious senate-house, and a superb 
 temple of Jupiter Olympius ; and the other districts of the city 
 are joined together by one broad unbroken street, and divided 
 by many cross-streets, and by private houses. There is a 
 third city, which, because in that district there is an ancient 
 temple of Fortune, is called Tyche, in which there is a spa- 
 cious gymnasium, and many sacred buildings, and that district 
 is the most frequented and the most populous. There is also 
 a fourth city, which, because it is the last built, is called Ne- 
 apolis, 1 in the highest part of which there is a very large the- 
 atre, and, besides that, there are two temples of great beauty, 
 one of Ceres, the other of Libera, and a statue of Ap< Ho, which 
 
 1 Xcapolis meaning "new city," or as we might say. Newtown, from 
 the Greek words Nea -o/ir. as Tyche is the Greek name of Fortune — 
 Tvxtj. Compare with this passage the description of Syracuse given by 
 ThucvHides in his sixth and seventh books. 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 567 
 
 is called Temenites, very beautiful and of colossal size ; which, 
 if he could have moved them, he would not have hesitated to 
 
 carry off. 
 
 LIV. Now I will return to Marcellus. that I may not ap- 
 pear to have entered into this statement without any reason. 
 He, when with his powerful army he had taken this splendid 
 city, did not think it for the credit of the Roman people to 
 destroy and extinguish this splendor, especially as no danger 
 could possibly arise from it, and therefore he spared all the 
 buildings, public as well as private, sacred as well as ordinary, 
 as if he°had come with his army for the purpose of defending 
 them, not of taking them by storm. With respect to the dec- 
 orations of the city, he had a regard to his own victory, and 
 a regard to humanity ; he thought it was due to his victory to 
 transport many things to Rome which might be an ornament 
 to this city, and due to humanity not utterly to strip the city, 
 especially as it was one which he was anxious to preserve. 
 In this division of the ornaments, the victory of Alarcellus did 
 not covet more for the Roman people than his humanity re- 
 served to the Syracusans. The things which were transport- 
 ed to Rome we see before the temples of Honor and of Virtue, 
 and also in other places. He put nothing in his own house, 
 nothing in his gardens, nothing in his suburban villa; he 
 thought that his house could only be an ornament to the city 
 if h^ abstained from carrying the ornaments which belonged 
 to the city to his own house. But he left many things of ex- 
 traordinary beauty at Syracuse ; he violated not the respect 
 due to any god ; he laid hands on none. Compare Verres 
 with him ; not to compare the man with the man, — no such- 
 injury must be done to such a man as that, dead though he be ; 
 but to compare a state of peace with one of war, a state of 
 law and order, and regular jurisdiction, with one of violence 
 and martial law, and the supremacy of arms ; to compare the 
 arrival and retinue of the one with the victory and army of 
 
 the other. 
 
 LV. There is a temple of Minerva in the island, of which 
 I have already spoken, which Marcellus did not touch, which 
 he left full of its treasures and ornaments, but which was so 
 stripped and plundered by Verres, that it seems to have been 
 in the hands, not of an enemy, — for enemies, even in war, re- 
 spect the rights of religion, and the customs of the country,— 
 but of some^barbarian pirates. There was a cavalry battle of 
 
568 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 their king Agathocles, exquisitely painted in a series of pic- 
 tures, and with these pictures the inside walls of the temple 
 were covered. Nothing could be more noble than those joint- 
 ings; there was nothing at Syracuse that was thought more 
 worthy going to see. These pictures, Marcus Marcellus, 
 though by that victory of his he had divested every thing of 
 its sacred inviolability of character, still, out of respect for re- 
 ligion, never touched ; Verres, though, in consequence of the 
 long peace, and the loyalty of the Syracusan people, he had 
 received them as sacred and under the protection of religion, 
 took away all those pictures, and left naked and unsightly 
 those walls whose decorations had remained inviolate for so 
 many ages, and had escaped so many wars : Marcellus, who 
 had vowed that if he took Syracuse he would erect two tem- 
 ples at Rome, was unwilling to adorn the temple which he 
 was going to build with these treasures which were his by 
 right of capture; Verres, who was bound by no vows to 
 Honor or Virtue, as Marcellus was, but only to Venus and to 
 Cupid, attempted to plunder the temple of Minerva. The one 
 was unwilling to adorn gods in the spoil taken from gods, the 
 other transferred the decorations of the virgin Minerva to the 
 house of a prostitute. Besides this, he took away out of the 
 same temple twenty-seven more pictures beautifully painted ; 
 among which were likenesses of the kings and tyrants of Sici 
 ly, which delighted one, not only by the skill of the painter, 
 but also by reminding us of the men, and by enabling us to 
 recognize their persons. And see now, how much worse a 
 tyrant this man proved to the Syracusans than ?my of the old 
 ones, as they, cruel as they were, still adorned the temples of 
 the immortal gods, while this man took away the monuments 
 and ornaments from the gods. 
 
 LVI. But now what shall I say of the folding-doors of 
 that temple % I am afraid that those who have not seen these 
 things may think that I am speaking too highly of, and exag- 
 gerating every thing, though no one ought to suspect that I 
 should be so inconsiderate as to be willing that so many men 
 of the highest reputation, especially when they are judges in 
 this cause, who have been at Syracuse, and who have seen all 
 these things themselves, should be witnesses to my rashness 
 and falsehood. I am able to prove this distinctly, O judges, 
 that no more magnificent doors, none more beautifully wrought 
 of gold and ivory, ever existed in any temple. It is incredible 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 569 
 
 how many Greeks have left written accounts of the beauty of 
 these doors: they, perhaps, may admire and extol them too 
 much; be it so, still it is more honorable for our republic, O 
 judges, that our general, in a time of war, should have left 
 those things which appeared to them so beautiful, than that 
 our praetor should have carried them off in a time of peace. 
 On the folding-doors were some subjects most minutely ex- 
 ecuted in ivory; all these he caused to be taken out ; he tore 
 off and took away a very fine head of the Gorgon with snakes 
 for hair; and he showed, too, that he was influenced not only 
 by admiration for the workmanship, but by a desire of money 
 and gain ; for he did not hesitate to take away also all the 
 golden knobs from these folding-doors, which were numerous 
 and heavy ; and it was not the workmanship of these, but the 
 weight which pleased him. And so he left the folding-doors 
 in such state, that, though they had formerly contributed 
 greatly to the ornament of the temple, they now seemed to 
 have been made only for the purpose of shutting it up. Am 
 I to speak also of the spears made of grass? for I saw that 
 you were excited at the name of them when the witnesses 
 mentioned them. They were such that it was sufficient to 
 have seen them once, as there was neither any manual labor 
 in them, nor any beauty, but simply an incredible size, which 
 it would be quite sufficient even to hear of, and too much to 
 see them more than once. Did you covet even those ? 
 
 LVII. For the Sappho which was taken away cut of the 
 town-hall affords you so reasonable an excuse, that it may 
 seem almost allowable and pardonable. That work of Sila- 
 nion, so perfect, so elegant, so elaborate (I will not say what 
 private man, but), what nation could be so worthy to possess, 
 as the most elegant and learned Yerres ? Certainly, nothing 
 can be said against it. If any one of us, who are not as 
 happy, who can not be as refined as that man, should wish to 
 behold any thing of the sort, let him go to the temple of Good 
 Fortune, to the monument of Catulus, to the portico of Metel- 
 lus ; let him take pains to get admittance into the Tusculan 
 villa of any one of those men ; let him see the forum when 
 decorated, if Yerres is ever so kind as to lend any of his treas- 
 ures to the aediles. Shall Yerres have all these tilings at 
 home? shall Yerres have his house full of, his villas crammed 
 with, the ornaments of temples and cities'? Will you still, O 
 judges, bear with the hobby, as he calls it, and pleasures of 
 
 ) 
 
570 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 this vile artisan ? a man who was born in such a rank, edu- 
 cated in such a way, and who is so formed, both in mind and 
 body, that he appears a much fitter person to take down stat- 
 ues than to appropriate them. And how great a regret this 
 Sappho which he carried off left behind her, can scarcely be 
 told; for in the first place it was admirably made, and, be- 
 sides, it had a very noble Greek epigram engraved upon the 
 pedestal ; and would not that learned man, that Grecian, who 
 is such an acute judge of these matters, who is the only man 
 who understands them, if he had understood one letter of 
 Greek, have taken that away too ? for now, because it is en- 
 graved on an empty pedestal, it both declares what was once 
 on the pedestal, and proves that it has been taken away. 
 What shall I say more ? Did you not take away the statue 
 of Paean from out of the temple of 7£seulapius, beautifully 
 made, sacred, and holy as it was? a statue which all men 
 went to see for its beauty, and worshiped for its sacred char- 
 acter. What more? was not the statue of Aristasus openly 
 taken away by your command out of the temple of Bacchus? 
 What more ? did you not take away out of the temple of Ju- 
 piter that most holy statue of Jupiter Imperator, which the 
 Greeks call Ovpiog, most beautifully made? What next? did 
 you hesitate to take away out of the temple of Libera, that 
 most exquisite bust of Parian marble, which we used to go to 
 see? And that Paean used to be worshiped among that people 
 together with ^Esculapius, with anniversary sacrifices. Aris- 
 taeus, who being, as the Greeks report, the son of Bacchus, is 
 said to have been the inventor of oil, was consecrated among 
 them together witli his father Bacchus, in the same temple. 
 
 LVIII. But how great do you suppose was the honor paid 
 to Jupiter Imperator in his own temple? You may collect it 
 from this consideration, if you recollect how great was the 
 religious reverence attached to that statue of the same appear- 
 ance and form which Flaminius brought out of Macedonia, 
 and placed in the Capitol. In truth, there were said to be in 
 the whole world three statues of Jupiter Imperator, of the 
 same class, all beautifully made : one was that one from 
 Macedonia, which we have seen in the Capitol ; a second was 
 the one at the narrow straits, which are the mouth of the 
 Euxine Sea ; the third was that which was at Syracuse, till 
 Verres came as praetor. Flaminius removed the first from its 
 habitation, but only to place it in the Capitol, that is to say, 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 571 
 
 in the house of Jupiter upon earth ; but as to the one that is 
 at the entrance of the Euxinc, that, though so many wars 
 have proceeded from the shores of that sea, and though so 
 many have been poured into Pontus, has still remained invio- 
 late and untouched to this day. This third one, which was 
 at Syracuse, which Marcus Marcellus, when in arms and vic- 
 torious, had seen, which he had spared to the religion of the 
 place, which both the citizens of, and settlers in Syracuse were 
 used to worship, and strangers not only visited, but often 
 venerated, Caius Verres took away from the temple of Jupiter. 
 To return again to Marcellus. Judge of the case, O judges, 
 in this way ; think that more gods were lost to the Syracusans 
 owing to the arrival of Verres, than even were owing to the 
 victory of Marcellus. In truth, he is said to have sought dili- 
 gently for the great Archimedes, a man of the highest genius 
 and skill, and to have been greatly concerned when he heard 
 that he had been killed ; but that other man sought for every 
 thing which he did seek for, not for the purpose of preserving 
 it, but of carrying it away. 
 
 LIX. At present, then, all those things which might appear 
 more insignificant, I will on that account pass over — how he 
 took away Delphic tables made of marble, beautiful goblets of 
 brass, an immense number of Corinthian vases, out of every 
 sacred temple at Syracuse; and therefore, O judges, those 
 men who are accustomed to take strangers about to all those 
 things which are worth going to see, and to show them every 
 separate thing, whom they call mystagogi (or cicerones), now 
 have their description of things reversed ; for as they formerly 
 used to show what there was in every place, so now they show 
 what has been taken from every place. 
 
 What do you think, then 1 Do you think that those men 
 are affected with but a moderate indignation? Not so, O 
 judges: in the first place, because all men are influenced by 
 religious feeling, and think that their paternal gods, whom 
 they have received from their ancestors, are to be carefully 
 worshiped and retained by themselves ; and secondly, because 
 this sort of ornament, these works and specimens of art, these 
 statues and paintings, delight men of Greek extraction to an 
 excessive degree ; therefore by their complaints we can under- 
 stand that these things appear most bitter to^those men, which 
 perhaps may seem trifling and contemptible to us. Believe 
 me, O judges, although I am aware to a certainty that you 
 
572 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 yourselves hear the same things ; that though both our alliep 
 and foreign nations have during these past years sustained 
 many calamities and injuries, yet men of Greek extraction 
 have not been, and are not, more indignant at any than at 
 this ruthless plundering of their temples and altars. Although 
 that man may say that he bought these things, as he is accus- 
 tomed to say, yet, believe me in this, O judges, — no city in all 
 Asia or in all Greece has ever sold one statue, one picture, or 
 one decoration of the city, of its own free will to any body. 
 Unless, perchance, you suppose that, after strict judicial de- 
 cisions had ceased to take place at Rome, the Greeks then be- 
 gan to sell these things, which they not only did not sell when 
 there w r ere courts of justice open, but which they even used to 
 buy up; or unless you think that Lucius Crassus, Quintus 
 Scaevola, Caius Claudius, most powerful men, whose most 
 splendid aedileships we have seen, had no dealings in those 
 sort of matters with the Greeks, but that those men had such 
 dealings who became aediles after the destruction of the courts 
 of justice. 
 
 LX. Know also that that false pretense of purchase was 
 more bitter to the cities than if any one were privily to filch 
 things, or boldly to steal them and carry them off. For they 
 think it the most excessive baseness, that it should be entered 
 on the public records that the city was induced by a price, 
 and by a small price too, to sell and alienate those things 
 which it had received from men of old. In truth, the Greeks 
 delight to a marvelous degree in those things, which we de- 
 spise. And therefore our ancestors willingly allowed those 
 things to remain in numbers among the allies, in order that 
 they might be as splendid and as nourishing as possible under 
 our dominion ; and among those nations whom they rendered 
 taxable or tributary, 1 still they left these things, in order that 
 they who take delight in those things which to us seem insig- 
 nificant, might have them as pleasures and consolations in 
 slavery. What do you think that the Rhegians, who now are 
 Roman citizens, would take to allow that marble Venus to be 
 taken from them? What would the Tarentines take to lose 
 the Europa sitting on the Bull? or the Satyr which they have 
 
 1 The Latin is " quos vectigales aut stipendiarius fuerant"' — " Stipc?i- 
 diarii and vectigales are thus distinguished : Stipendiarn are those who 
 pay annually a fixed sum as tribute ; vectigales, those who pay in pro- 
 portion to their property or income." — Riddle's Diet. v. Stipendiariut. 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 573 
 
 in the temple of Vesta ? or their other monuments *? What 
 would the Thespians take to lose the statue of Cupid, the only 
 object for which any one ever goes to see Thespiae? What 
 would the men of Cnidos take for their marble Venus'? or the 
 Coans for their picture of her ? or the Ephesians for Alexan- 
 der? the men of Cyzicus for their Ajax or Medea*? What 
 would the Rhodians take for Jalysus'? the Athenians for their 
 marble Bacchus, or their picture of Paralus, or their brazen 
 Heifer, the work of Myron 1 It would be a long business and 
 an unnecessary one, to mention what is worth going to see 
 among all the diiferent nations in all Asia and Greece ; but 
 that is the reason why I am enumerating these things, because 
 I wish you to consider that an incredible indignation must be 
 the feeling of those men from whose cities these things are 
 carried away. 
 
 LXI. And to say nothing of other nations, judge of the 
 Syracusans themselves. For when I went to Syracuse, I 
 originally believed what I had heard at Rome from that man's 
 friends, that the city of Syracuse, on account of the inherit- 
 ance of Heraclius, was no less friendly to him than the city of 
 the Mamertines, because of their participation in all his booty 
 and robberies. And at the same time I was afraid that, owing 
 to the influence of the high-born and beautiful women at whose 
 will he had directed all the measures of his prastorship for three 
 years, and of the men to whom they were married, I should be 
 opposed not only by an excessive lenity, but even by a feeling 
 of liberality toward that man, if I were to seek for any evi- 
 dence out of the public records of the Syracusans. Therefore 
 when at Syracuse I was chiefly with Roman citizens ; I copied 
 out their papers ; I inquired into their injuries. As I was a 
 long time occupied by that business, in order to rest a little 
 and to give my mind a respite from care, I returned to those 
 fine documents of Carpinatius ; in which, in company with 
 some of the most honorable knights of the body of Roman 
 settlers, I unraveled the case of those Verrutii, whom I have 
 mentioned before, but I expected no aid at all, either publicly 
 or privately, from the Syracusans, nor had I any idea of ask- 
 ing for any. While I was doing this, on a sudden Heraclius 
 came to me, who was in office at Syracuse, a man of high birth, 
 who had been priest of Jupiter, which is the highest honor 
 among the Syracusans ; he requests of me and of my brother, 
 if \ve°have no objection, to go to their senate ; that they were 
 
574 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 at that moment assembled in full numbers in the senate-house, 
 and he said that he made this request to us to attend by com- 
 mand of the senate. At first we were in doubt what to do ; 
 but afterward it soon occurred to us that we ought not to 
 shun that assembly or that place. 
 
 LXIL Therefore we came to the senate-house; they all 
 rise at our entry to do us honor. We sat down at the request 
 of the magistrates. Diodorus the son of Timarehides, who 
 was the first man in that body both in influence and in age, 
 and also as it seemed to me in experience and knowledge of 
 business, began to speak ; and the first sentence of his speech 
 was to tins effect — That the senate and people of Syracuse 
 were grieved and indignant, that, though in all the other cities 
 of Sicily I had informed the senate and people of what I pro- 
 posed for their advantage or for their safety, and though I had 
 received from them all commissions, deputies, letters and evi- 
 dence, yet in that city I had done nothing of that sort. I an- 
 swered, that deputies from the Syracusans had net been present 
 at Rome in that assembly of the Sicilians when my assistance 
 was entreated by the common resolution of all the deputations, 
 and when the cause of the whole of Sicily was intrusted to 
 me ; and that I could not ask that any decree should be pass- 
 ed against Caius Verres in that senate-house in which I saw 
 a gilt statue of Caius Verres. And after I said that, such a 
 groaning ensued at the sight and mention of the statue, that 
 it appeared to have been placed in the senate-house as a mon- 
 ument of his wickednesses and not of his services. Then every 
 one for himself, as fast as each could manage to speak, began 
 to give me information of those things which I have just now 
 mentioned ; to tell me that the city was plundered — the tem- 
 ples stripped of their treasures — that of the inheritance of 
 Heraclius, which he had adjudged to the men of the palaestra, 
 he had taken by far the greatest share himself; and indeed, 
 that they could not expect that he should care for the men of 
 the palsestra, when he had taken away even the god who was 
 the inventor of oil ; that that statue had neither been made at 
 the public expense, nor erected by public authority, but that 
 those men who had been the sharers in the plunder of the in- 
 heritance of Heraclius, had had it made and placed where it 
 was ; and that those same men had been the deputies at Rome, 
 who had been his assistants in dishonesty, his partners in his 
 thofts, and the witnesses of his debaucheries; and that there- 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 575 
 
 fore I ought the less to wonder if they were wanting to the 
 unanimity of the deputies and to the safety of Sicily. 
 
 LXIII. When I perceived that their indignation at that 
 man's injuries was not only not less, but almost greater than 
 that of the rest of the Sicilians, then I explained my own in- 
 tentions to them, and my whole plan and system with reference 
 to the whole of the business which I had undertaken ; then I 
 exhorted them not to be wanting to the common cause and 
 the common safety, and to rescind that panegyric which they 
 had voted a few days before, being compelled, as they said, by 
 violence and fear. Accordingly, O judges, the Syracusans, 
 that man's clients and friends, do this. First of all, they pro- 
 duce to me the public documents, which they had carefully 
 stored up in the most sacred part of the treasury ; in which 
 they show me that every thing, which I have said had been 
 taken away, was entered, and even more things than I was 
 able to mention. And they were entered in this way. 
 " What had been taken out of the temple of Minerva . . . 
 This, . . . and that." " "What was missing out of the tem- 
 ple of Jupiter." "What was missing out of the temple of 
 Bacchus." As each individual had had the charge of protect- 
 ing and preserving those things, so it was entered ; that each, 
 when according to law he gave in his accounts, being bound 
 to give up what he had received, had begged that he might be v . 
 pardoned for the absence of these things, and that all had ac- 
 cordingly been released from liability on that account, and that 
 it was kept secret ; all which documents I took care to have 
 sealed up with the public seal and brought away. But con- 
 cerning the public panegyric on him this explanation wa? 
 given : that at first, when the letters arrived from Verres about 
 the panegyric, a little while before my arrival, nothing had 
 been decreed ; and after that, when some of his friends urged 
 them that it ought to be decreed, they were rejected with the \i\ 
 greatest outcry and the bitterest reproaches ; but when I was 
 on the point of arriving, then he who at that time was the 
 chief governor had commanded them to decree it, and that it 
 had been decreed in such a manner that the panegyric did 
 him more damage than it could have done him good. So now, 
 judges, do you receive the truth of that matter from me just 
 as it was shown to me by them. 
 
 LXIV. It is a custom at Syracuse, that, if a motion on any 
 subject is brought before the senate, whoever wishes, gives his 
 
676 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 opinion on it. No one is asked by name for his sentiments; 
 nevertheless, those are accustomed to speak first of their own 
 accord, and naturally, according as they are superior in honor 
 or in age ; and that precedence is yielded to them by the rest ; 
 but, if at any time all are silent, then they are compelled to 
 speak by lot. This was the custom when the motion was 
 made respecting the panegyric of Verres. On which subject. 
 at first great numbers speak, in order to delay coming to any 
 vote, and interpose this objection, that formerly, when they 
 had heard that there was a prosecution instituted against Sex- 
 ./ tus Peducaeus, who had deserved admirably well of that city 
 S^ and of the whole province, and when, in return for his numer- 
 ous and important services, they wished to vote a panegyric 
 on him, they had been prohibited from doing so by Caius Ver- 
 res; and that it would be an unjust thing, although Peducams 
 had now no need of their praise, still not to vote that which 
 at one time they had been eager to vote, before decreeing what 
 they would only decree from compulsion. All shout in assent, 
 and say approvingly that that is what ought to be done. So 
 the question about Peducaeus is put to the senate. Each man 
 gave his opinion in order, according as he had precedence in 
 age and honor. You may learn this from the resolution it- 
 self; for the opinions delivered by the chief men are generally 
 recorded. Read — 
 
 [The list of speeches made on the subject of Sextus Peducams is 
 
 read.'] 
 
 It says who were the chief supporters of the motion. The 
 vote is carried. Then the question about Verres is put. Tell 
 me, I pray, what happened. 
 
 [The list of speeches made on the subject of Caius Verres . . . .] 
 Well what comes next? 
 
 *\ [As no one rose, and no one delivered his opinion . . . .] 
 
 What is this? 
 
 [They j)Toceed by lot] 
 
 Why was this? Was no one a willing praiser of your prae- 
 torship, or a willing defender of you from danger, especially 
 when by being so he might have gained favor with the prae- 
 tor? No one. Those very men who used to feast with you, 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 577 
 
 your advisers and accomplices, did not venture to utter a word, 
 In that very senate-house in which a statue of yourself and 
 a naked statue of your son were standing, was there no one 
 whom even your naked son in a province stripped naked could 
 move to compassion ? Moreover they inform me also of this, 
 that they had passed the vote of panegyric in such a form that 
 all men might see that it was not a panegyric, but rather a 
 satire, to remind every one of his shameful and disastrous proc- 
 torship. For in truth it was drawn up in these words. "Be- 
 cause he had scourged no one." From which you are to un- 
 derstand, that he had caused most noble and innocent men to 
 be executed. "Because he had administered the affairs of the 
 province with vigilance," when all his vigils were well known 
 to have been devoted to debauchery and adultery ; moreover, 
 there was this clause added, which the defendant could never 
 venture to produce, and the accuser would never cease to 
 dwell upon ; " Because Verres had kept all pirates at a dis- 
 tance from the island of Sicily;" men who in his time had 
 entered even into the "island" of Syracuse. And after I had 
 received this information from them, I departed from the sen- 
 ate-house with my brother, in order that they might decree 
 what they chose. 
 
 LXV. Immediately they pass a decree. First, " That my 
 brother Lucius should be connected with the city by ties of 
 hospitality;" because he had shown the same good-will to the 
 Syracusans that I had always felt myself. That they not only 
 wrote at that time, but also had engraved on brazen tablets 
 «,nd presented to us. Truly very fond of you are your Syra- 
 cusans whom you are always talking of, who think it quite a 
 sufficient reason for forming an intimate connection with your 
 accuser, that he is going to be your accuser, and that he has 
 come among them for the purpose of prosecuting inquiries 
 against you. After that, a decree is passed, not with any dif- 
 ference of opinion, but almost unanimously, " That the pane- 
 gyric which had been decreed to Caius Verres, be rescinded." 
 But, when not only the vote had been come to, but when it 
 had even been drawn up in due form and entered in the rec- 
 ords, an appeal is made to the praetor. But who makes this 
 appeal 1 Any magistrate ? No. Any senator ? Not even 
 that. Any Syracusan ? Far from it. Who, then, appeals to 
 the praetor? The man who had been Verres's quaestor, Caese- 
 tius. Oh, the ridiculous business ! Oh, the deserted man! O 
 
 Bb 
 
578 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 man despaired of and abandoned by the Sicilian magistracy ! 
 In order to prevent the Sicilians passing a resolution of the 
 senate, or from obtaining their rights according to their own 
 customs and their own laws, an appeal is made to the praetor, 
 not by any friend of his, not by any connection, not, in short, 
 by any Sicilian, but by his own quaestor. "Who saw this? 
 Who heard it? That just and wise praetor orders the senate 
 to be adjourned. A great multitude Hocks to me. First of 
 all, the senators cry out that their rights are being taken away ; 
 that their liberty is being taken away. The people praise the 
 senate and thank them. The Roman citizens do not leave me. 
 • And on that day I had no harder task, than with all my ex- 
 ertions to prevent violent hands being laid on the man who 
 made that appeal. When we had gone before the praetor's 
 £V tribunal, he deliberates, forsooth, diligently and carefully what 
 decision he shall give ; for, before I say one word, he rises 
 from his seat, and departs. And so w r e departed from the fo- 
 rum when it was now nearly evening. 
 
 LXVI. The next day, the first thing in the morning, I beg 
 of him to allow the Syracusans to give me a copy of the reso- 
 lution which they had passed the day before. But he refuses, 
 and says that it is a great shame for me to have made a speech 
 in a Greek senate ; and that, as for my having spoken in the 
 Greek language to Greeks, that was a thing which could not 
 be endured at all. I answered the man as I could, as I chose, 
 find as I ought. Among other things, I recollect that I said 
 that it was easy to be seen how great was the difference be- 
 tween him and the great Numidicus, the real and genuine Mc- 
 tellus. That that Metellus had refused to assist with his pan- 
 egyric Lucius Lucullus, his sister's husband, with whom he 
 was on the very best terms, but that he was procuring pane- 
 gyrics from cities for a man totally unconnected with himself, 
 by violence and compulsion. But when I understood that it 
 was many recent messengers, and many letters, not of intro- 
 duction but of credit, that had had so much influence over 
 him, at the suggestion of the Syracusans themselves I make 
 a seizure of those documents in which the resolutions of the 
 senate were recorded. And now behold a fresh confusion and 
 strife. That, however, you may not suppose that he was with- 
 out any friends or connections at Syracuse, that he was en- 
 tirely desolate and forsaken, a man of the name of Theoinnas- 
 tus, a man ridiculously crazy, whom the Syracusans call The- 
 
AGAINST VERRES. 5"?<J 
 
 oractus, 1 attempted to detain those documents; a man in such 
 a condition, that the boys follow him, and that every one 
 laughs at him every time he opens his mouth. But his era- 
 ziness, which is ridiculous to others, was then in truth very 
 troublesome to me. For while he was foaming at the mouth, 
 his eyes glaring, and he crying out as loud as he could that 
 I was attacking him with violence, we came together before 
 the tribunal. Then I began to beg to be allowed to seal up 
 and carry away the records. He spoke against me ; he de- 
 nied that there had been any regular resolution of the senate 
 passed, since an appeal had been made to the praetor. He 
 said that a copy of it ought not to be given to me. I read 
 the act, that I was to be allowed all documents and records. 
 He. like a crazy man as he was, urged that our laws had 
 nothing to do with him. That intelligent praetor decided 
 that he did not choose, as the resolution of the senate had no 
 business ever to be ratified, to allow me to take a copy of it 
 to Rome. Not to make a long story of it, if I had not threat- 
 ened the man vigorously, if I had not read to him the provi- 
 sions of the act passed in this case, and the penalties enacted 
 by it, I should not have been allowed to have the documents. 
 But that crazy fellow, who had declaimed against me most 
 violently on behalf of Verres, when he found he did not suc- 
 ceed, in order I suppose to recover my favor, gives me a book 
 in which all Yerres's Syracusan thefts were set down, which 
 I had already been informed of by, and had a list of from 
 them. 
 
 LXVTI. Now, then, let the Mamertines praise you, who are 
 the only men of ail that large province who wish you to get 
 oif ; but let them praise you on condition that Heius, who is 
 the chief man of that deputation, is present ; let them praise 
 you on condition that they are here, ready to reply to me on 
 those points concerning which they are questioned. And that 
 they may not be taken by surprise on a sudden, this is what 
 I shall ask them : — Are they bound to furnish a ship to the 
 Homan people? They will admit it. Have they supplied it 
 while Verres was prastor? They will say, No. Have they 
 built an enormous transport at the public expense which they 
 have given to Verres % They will not be able to deny it. Has 
 
 1 Theoractus seems a sort of nickname, to indicate his insanity, being 
 derived from Qebg, God, and ^yvvfit, to break ; while Theomnastus \» 
 derived from Qebc and ,uejxv?]/uac, to remember. 
 
580 CICERO'S ORATIONS. 
 
 • 
 
 Vc i j taken corn from them to send to' the Roman people, a* 
 - .edecessor did '? They will say, No. What soldiers or 
 jailors have they furnished during those three years? They 
 will say they furnished none at all. They will not be able to 
 deny that Messana has been the receiver of all his plunder and 
 all his robberies. They will confess that an immense quantity 
 of things were exported from that city ; and besides that, that 
 this large vessel given to him by the Mamertines, departed 
 loaded when the pnetor left Sicily. You are welcome, then, 
 to that panegyric of the Mamertines. As for the city of Syr- 
 acuse, we see that that feels toward you as it has been treated 
 by you ; and among them that infamous Verrean festival, in- 
 stituted by you, has been abolished. In truth, it was a most 
 unseemly thing for honors such as belong to the gods to be 
 paid to the man who had carried off the images of the gods. 
 In truth, that conduct of the Syracusans would be deservedly 
 reproached, if, when they had struck a most celebrated and 
 solemn day of festival games out of their annals, because on 
 that day Syracuse was said to have been taken by Marcellus, 
 they should, notwithstanding, celebrate a day of festival in the 
 name of Verres ; though he had plundered the Syracjasans of 
 all which that day of disaster had left them. But observe the 
 shamelessness and arrogance of the man, O judges, who not 
 only instituted this disgraceful and ridiculous Verrean festival 
 out of the money of Heraclius, but who also ordered the Mar- 
 cellean festival to be abolished, in order that they might every 
 year offer sacrifices to the man by whose means they had lost 
 the sacred festivals which they had ever observed, and had lost 
 their national deities, and that they might take away the fes- 
 tival days in honor of that family by whose means they had 
 recovered all their other festivals. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 * 
 
 % 
 
c 
 
 7 
 
 Of 
 
 < 
 
 i 
 
 t