Book II.

THE ORATOR

TREATISE on TOPICS

A DIALOGUE CONCERNING ORATORICAL PARTITIONS

TREATISE ON THE BEST STYLE OF ORATORS

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 among themselves whether they would or no) concealed himself

on that day and fortified his house, till perceiving that nothing

was intended against him, he ventured to appear in public the day

following. Lepidus was in the suburbs of Rome with a regular army,

ready to depart 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 forum 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 assisting him to seize on the office of Pontifex Maximus,

which was vacant 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 inflame 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, disapproving 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

meantime 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 he 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

honour of Caesar's victories. In the meantime Antonius, in his progress

through Italy, was making great use of the decree confirming all

Caesar's acts, which he interpolated and forged in the most shameless

manner. Among other things he restored Deiotarus to all his dominions,

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 Ops, 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 towards Rome, in order to

arrive 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 one 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 accommodation, which after some debate, and some important

modifications, were agreed to, and he quitted Spain, and came as far

as Marseilles on his road towards 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 particularly

summoned by Antonius, but he excused himself as not having recovered

from the fatigue of his journey.

Antonius was greatly offended, and in his speech in the senate

threatened 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 honours

to Caesar, and to order supplications to him as a divinity, which

Cicero was determined not to concur in, though he knew it would be

useless to oppose 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 concerning the

republic which I think myself bound to say at the present time, I

will explain to you briefly the cause of my departure 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 anywhere, 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,[3] 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,[4] which that city

employed in those times in allaying discords, and gave my vote that

all recollection of the existing dissensions ought to be effaced by

everlasting oblivion.

The oration then made by Marcus Antonius was an admirable one, his

disposition, too, appeared excellent, and lastly, by his means and

by his sons', peace was ratified with the most illustrious of the

citizens, and everything else was consistent with this beginning. 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

already well known to everybody, and he gave answers to every question

that was asked of him with the greatest consistency. Were any exiles

restored? 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 Dictatorship, which had by

this time attained to the authority of regal 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 matter with the greatest eagerness; and, by another resolution

of the senate, we returned him thanks in the most honourable 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 recollection of a perpetual dictatorship. A few days

afterwards the senate was delivered from the danger of bloodshed, and

a hook[5] 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 republic, and

was gaining more strength day by day; and when the same men were

erecting a tomb[6] 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 all the houses and

temples of the city; so severe was the rigour of Dolabella, not

only towards the audacious and wicked slaves, but also towards the

profligate and unprincipled freemen, and so prompt was his overthrow

of that accursed pillar, that it seems marvellous 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, everything was changed.

Nothing was done by the senate, but many and important measures were

transacted by the agency of the people, 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 country were

absent from that city from the neck of which they had removed the yoke

of slavery; though the very consuls themselves professed to praise

them in their public harangues and in all their conversation. 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 commission 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 I 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 connexion, could

not, though it was very eager to do so, detain me more than one night.

I was afraid that my sudden arrival among my friends 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 nest 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 harangue 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 afterwards 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 joyful,)

that parties were coming to an agreement; that the senate was to

meet on the first of August; that Antonius having discarded all evil

counsellors, and having given up the provinces of Gaul, was about to

return to submission to the authority 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 cannot express. For it seemed to be

a discreditable 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 himself) by

those who ought to have seconded him, still according to the testimony

of Brutus, (and what evidence can be more trustworthy?) and to the

avowal of every one whom I saw afterwards, 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 anything 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 yesterday, to whom I am friendly,

and I have at all times admitted having received some services from

him which make it my duty to be so.

V. What reason had he then for endeavouring, 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 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 wanting, for they are under the

compulsion, not of pledges, but of the influence of those men whose

honour 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, declared 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 expense in accordance

with a vote of the senate? And who ever employed such compulsion

as the threat of such an injury as to a senator? or what severer

punishment has ever been 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! Bloodstained, indeed, it may be,

but still needful at these times, since it is not restored to those to

whom it really belongs.[7] Let that, however, be squandered too, if

it is so written in his acts. Is there anything 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 of Sylla, you

will have the Cornelian laws. What more? In what acts did the third

consulship of Cnaeus 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 reply that he had passed many excellent laws; but

his memoranda he would either alter or not produce at all; or, if

he did produce them, he would not class them among his acts. But,

however, I allow even these things to pass for acts; at some things I

am content to wink; but I think it intolerable that the acts of Caesar

in the most important instances, that 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 respecting judicial proceedings abrogated by the law

which has been proposed concerning the third decury? And are you the

defenders of the acts of Caesar who overturn his laws? Unless, indeed,

anything 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 carried, 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 Julian 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 honour 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;[8] for 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 freedom.

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 being classed in the honourable 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 object 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 with 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 popularity 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 any more 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 under 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 what judge will be bold enough to venture to condemn a

criminal, knowing that he will immediately be dragged before a gang of

hireling 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 but exhorting young

men to be turbulent, seditious, mischievous citizens?

To what extent of mischief will it not be possible to instigate 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 treason, shall be interdicted from fire and

water? And, when those men have a right of appeal given them, are not

the acts of Caesar 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 produced 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 individual, 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 depended, 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, 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

accomplished by those means will be law. And you will order, I

suppose, all those regularly passed decrees to be engraved on brazen

tablets "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 refutation of my speech. I am

speaking of laws which have been proposed, concerning which you have

still full power to decide either way. I am pointing out the defects,

away with them! I am denouncing violence and arms, away with them too!

XI. You and your colleague, O Dolabella, ought not, indeed, to be

angry with me for speaking in defence of the republic. 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 favourable

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 condition which I myself think reasonable, and

which I do not imagine Marcus Antonius will reject. If I have said

anything 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

cannot obtain my first request, I beg at least that he 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

defence: 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 intimate friends, every speech which is at all contrary

to his inclination is violently offensive to him, even if there be no

insult in it whatever; then we will bear with the natural disposition

of our friend. But those men, at the same time, say to me, "You will

not have the same licence 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

honourable 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 approved of by the testimony borne in its

favour, 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 learnt it by experience beyond all

other men.

What day can you recollect in your whole life, as ever having 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 ringleaders in wickedness, and having delivered

the city from conflagration and from fear of massacre, you returned to

your house? What order of society, what class of people, what rank of

nobles even was there who did not then show their zeal in praising and

congratulating you? Even I, too, because 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

Dolabella, 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 recollection of their former

indignation. Could you, O Dolabella, (it is with great concern that I

speak,)--could you, I say, forfeit this dignity with equanimity?

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 anxiety was the

whole state relieved by 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 announced 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? 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, as 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 doing,--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 utterly

abolished the name of dictator.

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

cannot 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 anything sordid or

anything 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 fault, you had been able also to

escape all suspicion of it.

XIV. What I am more afraid of is lest, being 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,

"What care I though all men should hate my name,

So long as fear accompanies their hate?"

found that it was a mischievous principle to act upon.

I wish, O Antonius, that you could recollect your grand father 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 considered prosperity, was the being equal to

the rest of the citizens 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 Cinna, 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 Caius Caesar cannot influence 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

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 judgments delivered

respecting you by the Roman people, by which I am greatly concerned

that you are not sufficiently influenced. For what was the meaning

of the shouts of the innumerable 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 Pompeius? 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 unanimity of

the entire Roman people? What more? Did the applause at the games of

Apollo, or, I should rather say, testimony and judgment there given

by the Roman 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 Roman 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

Roman people showed their zeal in his favour though he was absent, and

soothed their own regret for their deliverer by uninterrupted applause

and clamour.

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 favour

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

reality 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 Roman people? For it was sufficient for him to be esteemed

by the Roman people as he is; to be popular among his friends, in

which respect he surpasses everybody; to be beloved by his own

kinsmen, who do love him beyond measure; but in whose case before

do we ever recollect 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 purport? 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 frequently

without exposing both myself and you to danger, I 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 republic.

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

greatly enraged at the first speech, and summoned another meeting of

the senate for the nineteenth day of the month, giving Cicero especial

notice to be present, and he employed the interval in preparing an

invective against Cicero, and a reply to the first Philippic. The

senate met in the temple of Concord, but Cicero himself was persuaded

not to attend 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

contriver 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 Brutus and Cassius, who were much pleased with it.

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 punishments 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 impious

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 favour of many most

illustrious citizens that they governed the republic well, but in

favour 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 subject for

me, than to have to speak in defence of myself, and against Antonius?

This, in fact, is the truth. He thought it impossible to prove to the

satisfaction of those men who resembled 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 interest. Was

I not to plead against one with whom I was quite I 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 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

recollected 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 favour from the contest

for the augurship. Oh the incredible audacity! oh the monstrous

impudence 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 favour.

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 Brundusium? Would you then have slain the man whom

the conqueror 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 these who slew that man by whom they

themselves had been saved, and whom you yourself are in the habit of

styling most illustrious men, would never have acquired such immortal

glory. But what sort of kindness is it, to have abstained from

committing nefarious wickedness? It is a case in which it ought not

to appear so delightful to me not to have been killed by you, as

miserable, that it should have been in your power to do such a thing

with impunity. However, grant that it was 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 towards you? But in that

complaint, 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 everything was on

sale at your house by the most infamous traffic; when you confessed

that those laws which had never been promulgated, had been passed 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 worthless 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 understand 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,

destroying the means by which absent friends converse together? How

many jests are frequently put in letters, which, if they were produced

in public, would appear stupid! How many serious opinions, which, for

all that, ought not to be published! Let this be a proof of your utter

ignorance of courtesy. Now mark, also, his incredible folly. What

have you to oppose to me, O you eloquent man, as you seem at least

to Mustela 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 I ever sent

those letters to you? By what evidence could you convict me? by my

handwriting? Of handwriting indeed you have a lucrative knowledge.[9]

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 cannot advance 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 what 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 I fairly might, now that I

am thus challenged by you; letters in which you beg of me that you may

be enabled by my consent 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 favour; in which matter there could not be any favour 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 defence and against Marcus Antonius, one thing I ask

you, that you will listen to me with kindness while I am speaking for

myself; the other I will ensure 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

moderation 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 forgotten my usual

character. I will not treat him as a consul, for he did not treat me

as a man of consular rank; and although he in no respect deserves to

be considered a consul, whether we regard his way of life, or his

principle of governing 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 consul 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 determine, what did I contrive, what

did I do, that was not determined, 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 consulship? 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.[10]

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 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 escaped many evils

by departing from this life, and especially the evil of seeing you

consul. But, above all, my consulship was approved of by Cnaeus

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 individuals? It was approved of by the senate, in a very full

house, so 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 supplication in my honour for those very actions

with which you find fault, in the most complimentary language, and

those very men of consular rank whom I have named, and the whole

senate, adopted his proposal; an honour 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 stepfather. 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 stepfather to resembling your uncle. I, who had no connexion

with him, acted by his counsels while I was consul. Did you, who

were his sister's son, ever once consult him on the affairs of the

republic?

But who are they whom Antonius does consult? O ye immortal gods, they

are men whose birthdays we have still to learn. To-day Antonius is not

coming down. Why? He is celebrating the birthday feast at his villa.

In whose honour? I will name no one. Suppose it is in honour of some

Phormio, or Gnatho, or even Ballio.[11] Oh the abominable profligacy

of the man! Oh how intolerable is his impudence, his debauchery, 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 republic, 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 honours 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 Capitoline

Hill, when I was consul, was full of armed slaves. I was offering

violence to the senate, I suppose, in order to compel 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 except

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 provided checks enough, nor were the books

able to contain their names.

In truth, when wicked men, being compelled by the revelations of the

accomplices, by their own handwriting, and by what I may almost call

the voices of their letters, were confessing 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 common 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 stepfather 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 enemy of his, I grieve now to see

surpassed by you in every sort of vice. But how could it occur to you

to recal to our recollection that you had been educated in the house

of Publius 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 strengthened by

education?

VIII. But you are so senseless that throughout the whole of your

speech you were at variance with yourself; so that you said things

which had not only no coherence with each other but which were most

inconsistent with and contradictory to one another; so that there was

not so much opposition between you and me as there was between you and

yourself. You confessed that your stepfather had been duplicated

in that enormous wickedness, yet you complained that he had had

punishment inflicted on him. And by doing so you praised what was

peculiarly my achievement, and blamed that which was wholly the act of

the senate. For the detection and arrest 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 being attacked by him. But now what an act, I 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 Capitoline Hill, at a time when

armed men are actually between our benches--when men, armed with

swords, are now stationed 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.

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 Ityrean[12] soldiers. It is not so much a proof

of audacity to advance these statements 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

witty. O ye good gods, how little did that attempt suit you! And yet

you are a little to be blamed for your failure 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

afterwards the gown yielded to your arms. Let us inquire then whether

it was better for the arms of wicked men to yield to the freedom 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 republic 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 endeavoured to

make my labours and my writings such as to be some advantage 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 bookseller's shop, and, shutting

them against you, checked your attack by that means? And I confess

that at that time I favoured 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 favour 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 afterwards, to say a thing which, at the time

that the affair was under discussion, no one ventured to say against

me? But as to the assertion that you 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 importance) in

the times.

X. When Marcus Bibulus, a most illustrious citizen, was consul, I

omitted nothing which I could possibly do or attempt 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 afterwards, when Pompeius joined Caesar 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 conduct 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 considered 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 miseries.

Moreover, I also, when Pompeius had now devoted to the service of

Caesar all his own power, and all the power of the Roman 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 concerning 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, however, is quite

a modern one, that Caesar was slain by my contrivance. I am afraid, O

conscript fathers, lest I should appear 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 glorious 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 appear 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 wit to conceal 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? Caius

Cassius, a man of that family which 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 Caesar 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 Trebonius? a man whom I should not

have ventured even to advise. On which account the republic owes him

even a larger debt of gratitude, because he preferred the liberty

of the Roman people to the friendship of one man, and because he

preferred 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 this account, that he was

unmindful of the personal kindnesses which he had received, but

mindful of his country. What shall I say of the two Servilii? 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 numerous, and a

most honourable thing also for themselves.

XII. But recollect, I pray you, how that clever man convicted 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 congratulated 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? 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 whether 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? 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:--"Marcus Brutus, whom I name to

do him honour, 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 dagger, named by

you that you may do him honour? Be it so. Let this stupidity exist in

your language: how much greater is it in your actions and opinions!

Arrange matters in this way at last, O consul; pronounce the cause of

the Bruti, of Caius Cassius, of Cnaeus Domitius, of Caius Trebonius

and the rest to be whatever you please to call it: sleep off that

intoxication of yours, sleep it off and take breath. Must one apply

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 between these alternatives. I confess

that they, if they be not deliverers of the Roman people and saviours

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? If they are parricides, why

are they always named by you, both in this assembly and before the

Roman people, with a view to do them honour? Why has Marcus Brutus[13]

been, on your motion, excused from obedience to the laws, and allowed

to be absent. Why were the games of Apollo celebrated with incredible

honour to Marcus Brutus? why were provinces given to Brutus and

Cassius? why were quaestors assigned to them? why was the number of

their lieutenants augmented? And all these measures were owing 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 honourable 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 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, O

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 cannot 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 whom you boast of having now

expelled and driven from the city? 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

posterity will be ever so forgetful, what literature will ever be

found so ungrateful, as not to cherish their glory with undying

recollection? 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 Caesar 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 that, when Caesar was being killed, we

saw you called aside by Trebonius. But I (see how far I am from any

horrible inclination towards,) praise you for having once in your life

had a righteous intention; 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, and employ

that test of old Cassius, "who reaped any advantage from it?" take

care, I advise you, lest you suit that description. 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 market 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 connexion 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 prevailed, you would this day

be in indigence, we should be 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

illustrious men, the lights of the republic, should live: so many

men of consular rank, so many men of praetorian rank, so many most

honourable 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 was more attached? any one with whom he

conversed or shared his counsels more frequently? It was, indeed,

a great thing that we, differing as we did respecting 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 afterwards. He 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 extraordinary 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 honourable 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 sanguine hopes. And

do you dare taunt me with the name of that man whose friend you admit

that I was, and whose assassin 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 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 that this

accusation of yours were a true one; I should have more of my friends

and connexions alive. But how could such a charge ever come into your

head? For I have received more than twenty millions of sesterces in

inheritances. Although in this particular I 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 Rubrius, 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 honourable Roman knight, and most

attached to him, whom he had on all occasions 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, disinheriting his brother, made you his heir. And

besides these instances, this man has seized on much other property

belonging to men wholly unconnected with him, to the exclusion 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 inheritances, when you yourself had not

received the inheritance of your 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 practising

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, indeed, you employ a master to teach you jokes,

a man appointed by your own vote and that of your boon companions; a

rhetorician, whom you have allowed to say what ever 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 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, O conscript fathers,

and learn the blows which are inflicted on the republic. You have

assigned, O Antonius, two thousand acres[14] which is often translated

acre also, of land, in the Leontine district, to Sextus Clodius, 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 papers? 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 I 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 beginning. Do you recollect

that, while you were still clad in the praetexta, you became a

bankrupt? That was the fault of your father, you will say. I admit

that. In truth, such a defence 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 appointed for bankrupts, even if any one had become so.

XIX. But let us say no more of your profligacy and debauchery. There

are things which it is not possible for me to mention with honour; 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 cannot 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 arrive 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 attentively, 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 tribuneship;

he, who now enumerates the kindnesses which he did me. He was the

firebrand to handle all conflagrations; and even in his house he

attempted something. He himself well knows what I allude to. From

thence he made a journey to Alexandria, in defiance of the authority

of the senate, and against the interests of the republic, and in spite

of religious 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 furthest extremity of Gaul before he returned home. And what

was his home? For at that time every man had possession of his own

house; and you had no house anywhere, O Antonius. House, do you say?

what place was there in the whole world where you could set your foot

on anything that belonged to you, except Mienum, which you farmed with

your partners, as if it had been Sisapo?[15]

XX. You came from Gaul to stand for the quaestorship. Dare to say that

you went to your own father before you came to me. I had already

received Caesar'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 quaestorship. And it was at

that time, indeed, that you endeavoured to slay Publius Clodius in the

forum, with the approbation of the Roman people; 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 exhorted 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 entirely to your own love of glory rather than

to my influence.

You were elected quaestor. 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 Caesar. For you thought

the camp the only refuge on earth for indigence, and debt, and

profligacy,--for all men, in short, who were in a state of utter ruin.

Then, when you had recruited your resources again by his largesses and

your own robberies, (if, indeed, a person can be said to recruit,

who only acquires something which he may immediately squander,) you

hastened, being again a beggar, to the tribuneship, in order that in

that magistracy you might, if possible, behave like your 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 republic. 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 Marcus Marcellus,

you, on the first of January, were anxious to prop up the republic,

which was tottering and almost falling, and were willing to consult

the interests of Caius Caesar himself, 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 axe under which many have suffered for

smaller crimes. It was against you, O Marcus Antonius, that the

senate, 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, before these conscript

fathers, to say anything against me, when I have been pronounced by

this order to be the saviour of my country, and when you have been

declared by it to be an enemy 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 young 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 did

any one entreat of you, except that you would not desire 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

expedients 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 everything into confusion, the

principal pretext for waging war against his country. For what other

pretence 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 pretences were; especially 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 existed 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 consuls were expelled from

Italy, and with them Cnaeus Pompeius, who was the glory and light of

the empire of the Roman people; 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

of the Roman people 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. Everything, 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

republic,--the cause of war, the cause of mischief, the cause of ruin.

The rest of his tribuneship was like the beginning. He did everything

which the senate had laboured to prevent, as being impossible to be

done consistently with the safety of the republic. And see, now, how

gratuitously wicked he was even in accomplishing his wickedness.

XXIII. He restored many men who had fallen under misfortune. 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 say 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 straining of the law in his

favour, what he had lost by the dice. What reason did you allege to

the Roman people why it was desirable that he should be restored?

I 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 defence; 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 Caesar while on his way into Spain

had given him Italy to trample on, what journeys did he 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

conversation, 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 particulars of his conduct,

although my speech cannot possibly come up to your own personal

knowledge. When was such wickedness ever heard of as existing upon

earth? or such shamelessness? 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 honourable 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.[16] 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

daughter-in-law. O the disastrous fecundity 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 fathers, 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 pretence 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 Thessaly 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 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.

However, 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?

XXV. You came to Brundusium, to the bosom and embraces of your

actress. What is the matter? Am I speaking 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 you made a tour through Italy, with that same actress 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 Caesar's friends, was appointed his master of the horse.

Then he thought that he could live with Hippia[17] by virtue of his

office, and that he might give horses which were the property of the

state to Sergius the buffoon. At that time he had selected for himself

to live in, not the house which he now dishonours, 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 Cnaeus Pompeius, and of many others who were

absent. He was forced to live like a robber, having nothing beyond

what he could plunder from others.

However, we will say nothing of these things, which are acts of a more

hardy sort of villany. 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 Hippia, that you were forced

to vomit the next day in the sight of the Roman people. O action

disgraceful 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 Roman

people, a man holding a public office, a master of the horse, to whom

it would have been disgraceful 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

disgraceful acts. Let us proceed to his more splendid offences.

XXVI. Caesar 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 Stator, and the property of Cnaeus Pompeius

Magnus--(miserable that I am, for even now that my tears have ceased

to flow, my grief remains deeply implanted in my heart,)--the

property, I say, of Cnaeus Pompeius the Great was submitted to the

pitiless, voice of the auctioneer. On that one occasion the state

forgot its slavery, and groaned aloud, and though men's minds were

enslaved, as everything was kept under by fear, still the groans of

the Roman 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[18] who would have dared

anything 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, being 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 property, 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 valour 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 become suddenly rich. But,

as some poet or other says,--

"Ill gotten gain comes 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 abundance of very valuable

plate, much precious apparel, great quantities 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 Charybdis was ever so voracious? Charybdis,

do I say? Charybdis, 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. Nothing

was shut up, nothing sealed up, no list was made of anything. 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 Cnaeus Pompeius. Wonder not, then, that all

these things were so soon consumed. 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 you dare

to enter into that house? Did you dare to cross that most sacred

threshold? and to show your most profligate 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.

XXVIII. When you behold those beaks of ships in the vestibule, and

those warlike trophies, do you fancy that you are entering into a

house which belongs to you? It is impossible. 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 fathers, 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 arrangements. 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 honourable passage in whose life is the one when he divorced

himself from this actress.

But how constantly does he harp on the expression "the consul

Antonius!" This amounts to say "that most debauched consul," "that

most worthless of men, the consul." For what else is Antonius? 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

offences which have no peculiar connexion with the part you took

in harassing the republic; I return to that 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 manner 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? 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 you

for the money 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 Caius Caesar demand money of me? why should he do

so, any more than I should claim it of him? Was he victorious without

my assistance? No, 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 Roman people, against the senate and people of Rome, against the

gods of the country, against its altars and healths, against the

country itself. Has he conquered for himself alone? Why should not

those men whose common work the achievement 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 soldiers to

you, and to your 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 their should 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 anything remaining to be

seen of these miserable relics. This auction, however, the heirs of

Lucius Rubrius prevented from proceeding, being armed with a decree of

Caesar 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?

The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Volume 4 · 第 2 / 12 章