Eighth Philippic
Philippica VIII
Headnote
Delivered in the Senate on 3 February 43 BC, the morning after the legation despatched in early January had returned from Antony at Mutina, the Eighth Philippic is Cicero’s answer to a vote he had just lost. On 2 February the Senate, presided over by the consul Vibius Pansa, had debated how to name the crisis. Cicero and the firmer party wanted the word bellum — war — set down in the decree; Lucius Caesar, Antony’s uncle, moved the softer line, and the Senate decreed a tumultus (a state of emergency) and the putting-on of the war-cloaks, but balked at the word “war.” Philippic 8 reopens the question the next day, and it opens with a rare thing in the series: an open rebuke of the presiding consul. “Yesterday’s business was conducted more confusedly, Gaius Pansa, than the practice of your consulship demanded” — Pansa let the men he is not used to yielding to carry the milder vote.
The speech turns first on a point of language (§1–4). Cicero will not let the euphemism stand, and he draws the famous distinction: there can be a war without a tumult, but no tumult without a war; a tumultus is the graver word, not the lesser, since in war the legal exemptions from service hold good and in a tumult they do not. The verbal quibble has a hard practical edge: take away the name of war and you take away the zeal of the municipalities and the consensus of the Roman people, which has already committed itself to the cause. He then proves the thing is a war whatever it is called (§5–8): Decimus Brutus is besieged in Mutina, Gaul is laid waste, Hirtius has already dislodged Antony’s garrison from Claterna and Octavian has taken the field of his own accord. This is, Cicero reckons, the fifth civil war of his lifetime, but the first fought not in the discord of citizens but in an incredible concord — the whole state, for its temples, walls, hearths, and the tombs of its ancestors, against one man. The antithesis of promises follows (§9–10): what Antony holds out to his bandits (the city divided up among them, the plunder of the great houses, Caesar’s auction-spear) set against what the Senate promises its soldiers (liberty, laws, courts, the empire of the world, peace).
The long centre of the speech is a duel, conducted by name, with Quintus Fufius Calenus (§11–19), the consular who had praised the advantages of peace and made himself Antony’s most steadfast defender. Cicero’s question is the hinge: do you call slavery peace? He marshals the canonical exempla of justified senatorial force — Scipio Nasica against Tiberius Gracchus, Opimius armed under the first “last decree” against Gaius Gracchus, Marius and the optimates against Saturninus, his own consulship against Catiline — and answers Calenus’s principle that all citizens should be kept safe with the surgeon’s metaphor: as a diseased limb is burned and cut away to save the body, so what is pestilent in the body of the commonwealth must be amputated. The exchange has its famous barb: Cicero “concedes” that in one man, Publius Clodius, Calenus saw more truly than he did — a sarcasm built from a string of inverted virtues. Then the indictment of the embassy itself (§20–28): the shame of sending legates a second time while Antony battered Mutina before their very eyes, set against the model of Gaius Popilius Laenas, who drew a circle in the sand around King Antiochus and would not let him step out of it until he had answered the Senate. Cicero reads out Antony’s “modest” counter-demands — the provinces, lands for his six legions, the untouched accounts at the temple of Ops, protection for his creatures Cafo, Saxa, Nucula, Mustela, and Tiro, and his judiciary law — and contrasts the contempt Antony showed Rome’s legates with the deference Rome paid to his legate Cotyla.
The close turns to the duty of a leading man (§29–32): a princeps must serve the citizens not only in their minds but in their very eyes, and Cicero offers the aged augur Quintus Scaevola, who in the Marsic War, old and broken in health, was the first into the Senate-house every morning, as the model the timid consulars should imitate or at least not envy. He announces that he will not claim the consular’s privilege of keeping the toga while the city is in war-cloaks, but will dress as every other citizen does. The speech ends, as the deliberative speeches do, in a formal motion (§33): amnesty for any of Antony’s men who lay down their arms and come over to the consuls, to Decimus Brutus, or to Octavian before the next Ides of March; rewards to be referred to the Senate; and the brand of public enemy on anyone who goes over to Antony after the decree — with the single bitter exception of Varius (Cotyla), whom Cicero lets return to his commander on the one condition that he never set foot in Rome again. Where Philippic 7 held the line during the legation interval, Philippic 8 is the speech of the morning after: the legation Cicero had opposed has come back with nothing but Antony’s insolence, exactly as he foretold, and he will not let the Senate hide the war behind a milder word.
Yesterday’s business was conducted more confusedly, Gaius Pansa, than the practice of your consulship demanded. You seemed to me to hold out too weakly against those to whom you are not accustomed to yield. For though the Senate’s courage was what it usually is, and though all saw that in fact there was a war, and though some thought that this word ought to be removed, your own inclination, in the division, leaned toward leniency. And so, on account of the harshness of a word, with you as its author, our motion was defeated; that of Lucius Caesar, a most distinguished man, prevailed — who, with the word’s ferocity taken away, was milder in his speech than in his vote. Although he, indeed, before he gave his opinion, excused himself on grounds of kinship. He had done the same thing, when I was consul, in the case of his sister’s husband, as he did at this time in the case of his sister’s son: so that he might both be moved by his sister’s grief and provide for the safety of the Roman people.
confusius hesterno die est acta res, C. Pansa, quam postulabat institutum consulatus tui. Parum mihi visus es eos quibus cedere non soles sustinere. nam cum senatus ea virtus fuisset quae solet, et cum re viderent omnes esse bellum quidamque id verbum removendum arbitrarentur, tua voluntas in discessione fuit ad lenitatem propensior. Victa est igitur propter verbi asperitatem te auctore nostra sententia: vicit L. Caesaris, amplissimi viri, qui verbi atrocitate dempta oratione fuit quam sententia lenior. quamquam is quidem, ante quam sententiam diceret, propinquitatem excusavit. idem fecerat me consule in sororis viro quod hoc tempore in sororis filio fecit, ut et luctu sororis moveretur et saluti populi Romani provideret.
And yet Caesar himself in a way instructed you, senators, not to assent to him, when he said this: that he would have delivered a different opinion, one worthy of himself and of the commonwealth, were he not hindered by kinship. So he is the uncle: are you too, then, uncles, who assented to him? But what was the dispute about? Some thought the name of war ought not to be set down in the motion; they preferred to call it a tumult — men ignorant not only of the facts but even of the words. For there can be a war such that there is no tumult; but a tumult cannot exist without a war.
atque ipse tamen Caesar praecepit vobis quodam modo, patres conscripti, ne sibi adsentiremini, cum ita dixit, aliam sententiam se dicturum fuisse eamque se ac re publica dignam, nisi propinquitate impediretur. ergo ille avunculus: num etiam vos avunculi qui illi estis adsensi? at in quo fuit controversia? Belli nomen ponendum quidam in sententia non putabant: tumultum appellare malebant, ignari non modo rerum sed etiam verborum: potest enim esse bellum ut tumultus non sit, tumultus autem esse sine bello non potest.
For what else is a tumult but a disturbance so great that a greater fear arises? — from which the very name “tumult” is derived. And so our ancestors named only the Italian tumult, because it was at home, and the Gallic tumult, because it was on Italy’s border, and no other besides. That a tumult is graver than a war can be understood from this: that in a war exemptions hold good, but in a tumult they do not. So it comes about, as I have said, that there can be a war without a tumult, but no tumult without a war.
quid est enim aliud tumultus nisi perturbatio tanta ut maior timor oriatur? unde etiam nomen ductum est tumultus. itaque maiores nostri tumultum Italicum quod erat domesticus, tumultum Gallicum quod erat Italiae finitimus, praeterea nullum nominabant. gravius autem tumultum esse quam bellum hinc intellegi potest quod bello vacationes valent, tumultu non valent. ita fit, quem ad modum dixi, ut bellum sine tumultu possit, tumultus sine bello esse non possit.
For indeed, since there is nothing intermediate between war and peace, it must follow that a tumult, if it is not a part of war, is a part of peace — than which what could be said or supposed more absurd? But too much about a word: let us rather look at the matter, senators — which, I am aware, is sometimes made worse by the word. We do not want this to seem a war. What authority, then, do we give the municipalities and the colonies for shutting Antony out? What, that soldiers be raised without compulsion, without penalty, by zeal and goodwill? What, that they pledge monies to the commonwealth? For if the name of war is taken away, the zeal of the municipalities will be taken away; and the consensus of the Roman people, which has already committed itself to the cause, must necessarily be weakened, if we grow faint.
etenim cum inter bellum et pacem medium nihil sit, necesse est tumultum, si belli non sit, pacis esse: quo quid absurdius dici aut existimari potest? sed nimis multa de verbo: rem potius videamus, patres conscripti, quam quidem intellego verbo fieri interdum deteriorem solere. nolumus hoc bellum videri. quam igitur municipiis et coloniis ad excludendum Antonium auctoritatem damus? quam ut milites fiant sine vi, sine multa, studio, voluntate? quam ut pecunias in rem publicam polliceantur? si enim belli nomen tolletur, municipiorum studia tollentur; consensus populi Romani, qui iam descendit in causam, si nos languescimus, debilitetur necesse est.
But why say more? Decimus Brutus is under assault: is it not war? Mutina is besieged: is not even this war? Gaul is being laid waste: what peace could be more secure! And that one — who can call it war? We have sent a consul, a most valiant man, with an army — a man who, although he was weak from a grave and lingering illness, thought no excuse ought to be allowed him when he was being summoned to the defence of the commonwealth. Gaius Caesar, indeed, did not wait for your decrees, especially since that step belonged to his time of life: he took up the war against Antony of his own accord. For the time for decreeing was not yet come; but if he had let slip the time for waging the war, he saw that, with the commonwealth crushed, nothing could be decreed.
sed quid plura? D. Brutus oppugnatur: non est bellum? Mutina obsidetur: ne hoc quidem bellum est? Gallia vastatur: quae pax potest esse certior? illud vero quis potest bellum esse dicere? consulem, fortissimum virum, cum exercitu misimus, qui, cum esset infirmus ex gravi diuturnoque morbo, nullam sibi putavit excusationem esse oportere, cum ad rei publicae praesidium vocaretur. C. quidem Caesar non exspectavit vestra decreta, praesertim cum illud esset aetatis: bellum contra Antonium sua sponte suscepit. decernendi enim tempus nondum erat: bellum autem gerendi tempus si praetermisisset, videbat re publica oppressa nihil posse decerni.
So these men now, and their armies, are living in peace! He is no enemy whose garrison Hirtius dislodged from Claterna; he is no enemy who stands armed against a consul, who assaults a consul-designate; and those words are neither hostile nor warlike which Pansa read out a moment ago from his colleague’s despatch: “I have dislodged the garrison; I have taken Claterna; the cavalry are routed; battle is joined; some are killed.” What peace could be greater? Levies have been decreed throughout all Italy, with exemptions abolished; tomorrow the war-cloaks will be taken up; the consul has said that he will go down to the Forum with an armed guard.
ergo illi nunc et eorum exercitus in pace versantur. non est hostis is cuius praesidium Claterna deiecit Hirtius; non est hostis qui consuli armatus obsistit, designatum consulem oppugnat, nec illa hostilia verba nec bellica quae paulo ante ex conlegae litteris Pansa recitavit: ‘ deieci praesidium; Claterna potitus sum; fugati equites; proelium commissum; occisi aliquot.’ quae pax potest esse maior? dilectus tota Italia decreti sublatis vacationibus; saga cras sumentur; consul se cum praesidio descensurum esse dixit.
Is this not a war — or is it so great a war as never yet was? For in the other wars, and above all the civil ones, the struggle was waged over the commonwealth itself. Sulla against Sulpicius, over the validity of the laws which Sulla said had been passed by force; Cinna against Octavius, over the votes of the new citizens; again Sulla against Marius and Carbo, that the unworthy might not lord it, and that the most cruel murder of the most illustrious men might be punished. The causes of all these wars were born from a contest over the commonwealth. Of the most recent civil war I do not care to speak: I do not know its cause, I detest its outcome.
Vtrum hoc bellum non est, an est tantum bellum quantum numquam fuit? ceteris enim bellis maximeque civilibus contentionem rei publicae causa faciebat. Sulla cum Sulpicio de iure legum quas per vim Sulla latas esse dicebat; Cinna cum Octavio de novorum civium suffragiis; rursus cum Mario et Carbone Sulla ne dominarentur indigni et ut clarissimorum hominum crudelissimam puniretur necem. Horum omnium bellorum causae ex rei publicae contentione natae sunt. de proximo bello civili non libet dicere: ignoro causam, detestor exitum.
This is the fifth civil war being waged — and all of them have fallen within our own lifetime — but the first to be waged not amid dissension and discord among citizens but amid the greatest agreement and an incredible concord. All want the same thing, defend the same thing, feel the same thing. When I say all, I except those whom no one thinks worthy of citizenship. What, then, is the cause set at the heart of this war? We defend the temples of the immortal gods, we the walls, we the homes and dwellings of the Roman people, the altars, the hearths, the tombs of our ancestors; we defend the laws, the courts, liberty, our wives, our children, our country: against this Marcus Antonius strives, for this he fights — to throw all these things into confusion, to overturn them, to count the plunder of the commonwealth the very object of the war, to scatter our fortunes in part and in part to parcel them out among parricides.
hoc bellum quintum civile geritur—atque omnia in nostram aetatem inciderunt—primum non modo non in dissensione et discordia civium sed in maxima consensione incredibilique concordia. omnes idem volunt, idem defendunt, idem sentiunt. cum omnis dico, eos excipio quos nemo civitate dignos putat. quae est igitur in medio belli causa posita? nos deorum immortalium templa, nos muros, nos domicilia sedesque populi Romani, aras, focos, sepulcra maiorum; nos leges, iudicia, libertatem, coniuges, liberos, patriam defendimus: contra M. Antonius id molitur, id pugnat ut haec omnia perturbet, evertat, praedam rei publicae causam belli putet, fortunas nostras partim dissipet partim dispertiat parricidis.
In this so unequal kind of war, the most wretched thing is this: that he promises his bandits, first, houses — for he affirms that he will divide up the city among them; next, that through whatever gate they please he will lead them out to wherever they wish. All the Cafos, all the Saxas, and the rest of the plagues that follow Antony are marking out for themselves the finest mansions, the gardens, the estates at Tusculum and at Alba. And even the country folk — if those creatures are men and not rather cattle — are carried along by empty hope as far as the watering-places and Puteoli. So Antony has something to promise his men. What of us? Have we anything of the kind? May the gods grant us better! For this is the very thing we are working at: that no one hereafter be able to promise anything of the sort. Unwillingly I say it, but it must be said: Caesar’s auction-spear, senators, brings to many wicked men both hope and audacity. For they have seen men become rich in an instant out of beggars: and so they are forever longing to see the spear — those men who threaten our goods, to whom Antony promises everything.
in hac tam dispari ratione belli miserrimum illud est quod ille latronibus suis pollicetur primum domos; urbem enim divisurum se confirmat; deinde omnibus portis quo velint deducturum. omnes Cafones, omnes Saxae ceteraeque pestes quae sequuntur Antonium aedis sibi optimas, hortos, Tusculana, Albana definiunt. atque etiam homines agrestes, si homines illi ac non pecudes potius, inani spe ad aquas usque et Puteolos pervehuntur. ergo habet Antonius quod suis polliceatur. quid nos? num quid tale habemus? di meliora! id enim ipsum agimus ne quis posthac quicquam eius modi possit polliceri. invitus dico, sed dicendum est: hasta Caesaris, patres conscripti, multis improbis et spem adfert et audaciam. viderunt enim ex mendicis fieri repente divites: itaque semper hastam videre cupiunt ei qui nostris bonis imminent, quibus omnia pollicetur Antonius.
What? What do we promise our armies? Things far better and greater. For the promise of crimes is ruinous both to those who await it and to those who make it: we promise our soldiers liberty, laws, rights, courts, the empire of the whole earth, dignity, peace, tranquillity. Antony’s promises, then, are bloody, foul, criminal, hateful to gods and men, neither lasting nor wholesome: ours, by contrast, are honourable, unblemished, glorious, full of gladness, full of devotion.
quid? nos nostris exercitibus quid pollicemur? multo meliora atque maiora. scelerum enim promissio et eis qui exspectant perniciosa est et eis qui promittunt: nos libertatem nostris militibus, leges, iura, iudicia, imperium orbis terrae, dignitatem, pacem, otium pollicemur. Antoni igitur promissa cruenta, taetra, scelerata, dis hominibusque invisa, nec diuturna neque salutaria: nostra contra honesta, integra, gloriosa, plena laetitiae, plena pietatis.
Here, too, Quintus Fufius — a brave and energetic man, my friend — recounts to me the advantages of peace. As though, in fact, if peace were the thing to be praised, I could not do it just as aptly. For have I defended peace only once? Have I not always pursued tranquillity? — a thing that, useful to all good men, is so especially to me. For what course could my own industry have held without cases in the Forum, without laws, without courts? — which cannot exist once civil peace is taken away.
hic mihi etiam Q. Fufius, vir fortis ac strenuus, amicus meus, pacis commoda commemorat. quasi vero, si laudanda pax esset, ego id aeque commode facere non possem. semel enim pacem defendi, non semper otio studui? quod cum omnibus bonis utile est, tum praecipue mihi. quem enim cursum industria mea tenere potuisset sine forensibus causis, sine legibus, sine iudiciis? quae esse non possunt civili pace sublata.
But I ask you, Calenus, what of you? Do you call slavery peace? Our ancestors, indeed, took up arms not only that they might be free but that they might rule: do you think arms should be thrown down so that we may be slaves? What juster cause is there for waging war than the throwing-off of slavery? In which condition, even if the master should not be troublesome, it is still most wretched that he could be, if he chose. Nay, other causes may be just; this one is necessary. Unless perhaps you think this does not concern you, because you hope to be a partner in Antony’s domination. In which you slip twice: first, because you thrust your own interests in among the common ones; second, because you think anything stable or pleasant exists in a despotism. Even if it has served you before, it will not serve you forever.
sed quaeso, Calene, quid tu? servitutem pacem vocas? maiores quidem nostri non modo ut liberi essent sed etiam ut imperarent, arma capiebant: tu arma abicienda censes ut serviamus? quae causa iustior est belli gerendi quam servitutis depulsio? in qua etiam si non sit molestus dominus, tamen est miserrimum posse, si velit. immo aliae causae iustae, haec necessaria est. Nisi forte ad te hoc non putas pertinere, quod te socium fore speras dominationis Antoni. in quo bis laberis: primum quod tuas rationes communibus interponis; deinde quod quicquam stabile aut iucundum in regno putas. non, si tibi antea profuit, semper proderit.
Why, you used even to complain about that man — what do you think you will do about a beast? And you say you are one who has always wished for peace, always wished all citizens safe. An honourable speech — but only so if you mean good citizens, useful ones, citizens loyal to the commonwealth; but if you would have safe those who are citizens by nature, enemies by will, what then is the difference between you and them? Your father, indeed — whom in my youth I had as an aged authority, a stern and prudent man — used to give the first place among all citizens to Publius Nasica, who killed Tiberius Gracchus: by that man’s courage, counsel, and greatness of spirit he judged the commonwealth had been set free.
quin etiam de illo homine queri solebas: quid te facturum de belua putas? atque ais eum te esse qui semper pacem optaris, semper omnis civis volueris salvos. honesta oratio, sed ita si bonos et utilis et e re publica civis: sin eos qui natura cives sunt, voluntate hostes, salvos velis, quid tandem intersit inter te et illos? pater tuus quidem, quo utebar sene auctore adulescens, homo severus et prudens, primas omnium civium P. Nasicae qui Ti. Gracchum interfecit dare solebat: eius virtute, consilio, magnitudine animi liberatam rem publicam arbitrabatur.
What? Have we received anything different from our fathers? So this citizen, if you had lived in those times, would not have won your approval, because he had not wished all men safe. “Whereas Lucius Opimius the consul has spoken concerning the commonwealth, concerning that matter they have decreed thus: that Lucius Opimius the consul should defend the commonwealth.” This the Senate did in words; Opimius, in arms. Would you, then, if you had been there, think him a reckless citizen, or a cruel one — or Quintus Metellus, whose four sons were consulars; or Publius Lentulus, princeps senatus; or the several other men of the highest rank who, armed, alongside Opimius the consul, pursued Gracchus onto the Aventine? In which battle Lentulus took a grave wound; Gracchus was killed, and Marcus Fulvius, a consular, and his two young sons. Those men, then, are to be blamed — for, you see, they did not wish all citizens safe.
quid? nos a patribus num aliter accepimus? ergo is tibi civis, si temporibus illis fuisses, non probaretur, quia non omnis salvos esse voluisset. ‘ quod L. Opimius consul verba fecit de re publica, de ea re ita censuerunt uti L. Opimius consul rem publicam defenderet.’ senatus haec verbis, Opimius armis. num igitur eum, si tum esses, temerarium civem aut crudelem putares, aut Q. Metellum, cuius quattuor filii consulares, P. Lentulum, principem senatus, compluris alios summos viros qui cum Opimio consule armati Gracchum in Aventinum persecuti sunt? quo in proelio Lentulus grave volnus accepit, interfectus est Gracchus et M. Fulvius consularis, eiusque duo adulescentuli filii. illi igitur viri vituperandi: non enim omnis civis salvos esse voluerunt.
Let us come to nearer instances. In the consulship of Gaius Marius and Lucius Valerius, the Senate gave the commonwealth into their charge to be defended: Lucius Saturninus, tribune of the plebs, and Gaius Glaucia, praetor, were killed. On that day all the Scauri, the Metelli, the Claudii, the Catuli, the Scaevolae, the Crassi took up arms. Do you think those consuls, or those most illustrious men, are to be blamed? I wished Catiline to perish. Did you, who would have all men safe, wish Catiline safe? This is the difference, Calenus, between my view and yours. I do not wish any citizen to commit a thing for which he must be punished with death; you think that, even if he has committed it, he must be preserved. In the body, if there is anything of such a kind that it harms the rest of the body, we allow it to be burned and cut away, so that some single limb may perish rather than the whole body. So in the body of the commonwealth: that the whole may be safe, let whatever is pestilent be cut off.
ad propiora veniamus. C. Mario L. Valerio consulibus senatus rem publicam defendendam dedit: L. Saturninus tribunus plebis, C. Glaucia praetor est interfectus. omnes illo die Scauri, Metelli, Claudii, Catuli, Scaevolae, Crassi arma sumpserunt. num aut consules illos aut clarissimos viros vituperandos putas? ego Catilinam perire volui. num tu qui omnis salvos vis Catilinam salvum esse voluisti? hoc interest, Calene, inter meam sententiam et tuam. ego nolo quemquam civem committere ut morte multandus sit; tu, etiam si commiserit, conservandum putas. in corpore si quid eius modi est quod reliquo corpori noceat, id uri secarique patimur ut membrum aliquod potius quam totum corpus intereat. sic in rei publicae corpore, ut totum salvum sit, quicquid est pestiferum amputetur.
A hard saying! But that one is much harder: “Let the wicked be safe, the criminal, the impious; let the innocent be destroyed, the honourable, the good — the whole commonwealth!” In one man, Quintus Fufius, I confess you saw more than I did. I judged Publius Clodius a ruinous citizen, criminal, lustful, impious, bold, villainous; you, on the contrary, judged him holy, temperate, innocent, modest — a citizen to be kept and longed for. In this one thing I grant that you saw most clearly, and that I erred greatly. But as for your saying that I am accustomed to deal with you angrily — it is not so. That I deal vehemently, I confess; angrily, I deny. I do not, on the whole, lightly grow angry with friends, not even when they deserve it.
dura vox! multo illa durior: ‘Salvi sint improbi, scelerati, impii; deleantur innocentes, honesti, boni, tota res publica!’ Vno in homine, Q. Fufi, fateor te vidisse plus quam me. ego P. Clodium arbitrabar perniciosum civem, sceleratum, libidinosum, impium, audacem, facinerosum, tu contra sanctum, temperantem, innocentem, modestum, retinendum civem et optandum. in hoc uno te plurimum vidisse, me multum errasse concedo. nam quod me tecum iracunde agere dixisti solere, non est ita. vehementer me agere fateor, iracunde nego. omnino irasci amicis non temere soleo, ne si merentur quidem.
And so I can dissent from you without abuse of words; without the deepest pain of mind I cannot. For is my disagreement with you a small one, or over a small matter? Do I favour this man, you that one? No — rather, I favour Decimus Brutus, you Marcus Antonius: I desire that a colony of the Roman people be preserved, you are eager that it be stormed. Can you deny this — you who interpose every delay by which Brutus may be weakened and Antony made stronger? For how long will you say that you want peace? The thing is being carried on; the siege-sheds have been brought up; the fighting is most fierce. To intervene, we sent three of the foremost men of the state. These Antony scorned, rejected, repudiated: yet you persist as Antony’s most steadfast defender.
itaque sine verborum contumelia a te dissentire possum, sine animi summo dolore non possum. parva est enim mihi tecum aut parva de re dissensio? ego huic faveo, tu illi? immo vero ego D. Bruto faveo, tu M. Antonio: ego conservari coloniam populi Romani cupio, tu expugnari studes. an hoc negare potes, qui omnis moras interponas quibus infirmetur Brutus, melior fiat Antonius? quo usque enim dices pacem velle te? res geritur; conductae vineae sunt; pugnatur acerrime. qui intercurrerent, misimus tris principes civitatis. hos contempsit, reiecit, repudiavit Antonius: tu tamen permanes constantissimus defensor Antoni.
And indeed, that he may seem the better senator, he denies that he is bound to be Antony’s friend: that, although Antony was under a great obligation to him, Antony came out against him. See how great is his love of country: though he is angry with the man, he yet defends Antony for the commonwealth’s sake. As for you, Quintus Fufius, when you are so bitter against the people of Massilia, I do not hear you with an even mind. For how long will you assail Massilia? Does not even the triumph make an end of the war — the triumph in whose procession that city was borne, the city without which our ancestors never triumphed over the Transalpine nations? At which time, indeed, the Roman people groaned: for although all had griefs proper to their own affairs, yet there was no citizen who reckoned the miseries of that most loyal community foreign to himself.
et quidem, quo melior senator videatur, negat se illi amicum esse debere: cum suo magno esset beneficio, venisse eum contra se. videte quanta caritas sit patriae: cum homini sit iratus, tamen rei publicae causa defendit Antonium. ego te, cum in Massiliensis tam es acerbus, Q. Fufi, non animo aequo audio. quo usque enim Massiliam oppugnabis? ne triumphus quidem finem facit belli, per quem lata est urbs ea sine qua numquam ex Transalpinis gentibus maiores nostri triumpharunt. quo quidem tempore populus Romanus ingemuit: quamquam proprios dolores suarum rerum omnes habebant, tamen huius civitatis fidelissimae miserias nemo erat civis qui a se alienas arbitraretur.
Caesar himself, who had been most angry with them, nevertheless, on account of that community’s singular dignity and loyalty, remitted each day some part of his anger: can a community so loyal not content you by any disaster of its own? Again, perhaps, you will say I am growing angry. But I say everything without anger, and yet not without pain of mind: I judge that no one is an enemy to that community who is a friend to this one. What your reasoning is, Calenus, I cannot work out. Before, we could not deter you from being a man of the people; now we cannot entreat you to be one. Enough, and more, with Fufius — all of it without hatred, none of it without pain. But I suppose that a man who bears a son-in-law’s complaint with moderation will bear a friend’s with an even mind.
Caesar ipse qui illis fuerat iratissimus tamen propter singularem eius civitatis gravitatem et fidem cotidie aliquid iracundiae remittebat: te nulla sua calamitate civitas satiare tam fidelis potest? rursus iam me irasci fortasse dices. ego autem sine iracundia dico omnia nec tamen sine dolore animi: neminem illi civitati inimicum esse arbitror qui amicus huic sit civitati. excogitare quae tua ratio sit, Calene, non possum. antea deterrere te ne popularis esses non poteramus: exorare nunc ut sis popularis non possumus. satis multa cum Fufio ac sine odio omnia, nihil sine dolore. credo autem, qui generi querelam moderate ferat, aequo animo laturum amici.
I come to the remaining consulars, of whom there is none — and I say this by my own right — who does not have with me some bond of goodwill: with some the greatest, with some a moderate one, with none none at all. How shameful a dawn yesterday broke for us — for us consulars, I mean! Legates again? As though he were making a truce? Before the very faces and eyes of the legates he battered Mutina with his artillery; he was displaying his siege-works and his fortification to the legates; not for a single point of time, while the legates were present, did the assault draw breath. To this man, legates? Why? So that by their return you may be more violently terrified?
venio ad reliquos consularis, quorum nemo est—iure hoc meo dico—quin mecum habeat aliquam coniunctionem gratiae, alii maximam, alii mediocrem, nemo nullam. quam hesternus dies nobis, consularibus dico, turpis inluxit! iterum legatos? quasi ille faceret indutias? ante os oculosque legatorum tormentis Mutinam verberavit; opus ostendebat munitionemque legatis; ne punctum quidem temporis, cum legati adessent, oppugnatio respiravit. ad hunc legatos? cur? an ut eorum reditu vehementius pertimescatis?
For my part, although I had voted against the sending of legates, I yet consoled myself with this: that when they came back, scorned and rejected by Antony, and reported to the Senate that he not only had not departed from Gaul, as we had decreed, but had not even withdrawn from Mutina, and that they had had no opportunity of meeting Decimus Brutus — then it would come to pass that all of us, inflamed with hatred, roused by indignation, would come to Decimus Brutus’s aid with arms, with horses, with men. But we have grown even more languid since, after we have looked closely at not only the audacity and crime of Marcus Antonius but his insolence and arrogance as well.
equidem cum ante legatos decerni non censuissem, hoc me tamen consolabar, cum illi ab Antonio contempti et reiecti revertissent renuntiavissentque senatui non modo illum de Gallia non discessisse, uti censuissemus, sed ne a Mutina quidem recessisse, potestatem sibi D. Bruti conveniendi non fuisse, fore ut omnes inflammati odio, excitati dolore, armis, equis, viris D. Bruto subveniremus. nos etiam languidiores postea facti sumus quam M. Antoni non solum audaciam et scelus sed etiam insolentiam superbiamque perspeximus.
Would that Lucius Caesar were in health, that Servius Sulpicius were alive: this cause would be pleaded far better by three than it is now pleaded by one. I will say this in sorrow rather than in reproach. We have been deserted — deserted, I say, senators — by our leading men. But — I have said it often already — in a peril so great, all who think rightly and bravely will be consulars. The legates ought to have brought us spirit: they brought us fear — though to me, indeed, none — however well they think of the man to whom they were sent, from whom, moreover, they accepted instructions.
Vtinam L. Caesar valeret, Ser. Sulpicius viveret: multo melius haec causa ageretur a tribus quam nunc agitur ab uno. Dolenter hoc dicam potius quam contumeliose. deserti, deserti, inquam, sumus, patres conscripti, a principibus. sed —saepe iam dixi— omnes in tanto periculo qui recte et fortiter sentient erunt consulares. animum nobis adferre legati debuerunt: timorem attulerunt—quamquam mihi quidem nullum — quamvis de illo ad quem missi sunt bene existiment: a quo etiam mandata acceperunt.
By the immortal gods! Where is that custom and courage of our ancestors? Gaius Popilius, among our forefathers, when he had been sent as legate to King Antiochus and had announced, in the words of the Senate, that he should withdraw from Alexandria, which he was besieging — when the king kept putting off the time — with a little rod drew a circle around him as he stood, and said that he would report to the Senate unless the king had answered him, before he stepped out of that circle, what he meant to do. Splendid! For he had brought with him the very face of the Senate and the authority of the commonwealth. The man who does not obey that authority — instructions are not to be accepted from him; rather, he himself is to be repudiated.
pro di immortales! ubi est ille mos virtusque maiorum? C. Popilius apud maiores nostros cum ad Antiochum regem legatus missus esset et verbis senatus denuntiasset ut ab Alexandrea discederet quam obsidebat, cum tempus ille differret, virgula stantem circumscripsit dixitque se renuntiaturum senatui, nisi prius sibi respondisset quid facturus esset quam ex illa circumscriptione exisset. praeclare: senatus enim faciem secum attulerat auctoritatemque rei publicae. cui qui non paret, non ab eo mandata accipienda sunt, sed ipse est potius repudiandus.
Should I accept instructions from a man who scorns the Senate’s instructions? Or judge that he has anything in common with the Senate — a man who besieges a commander of the Roman people while the Senate forbids it? But what instructions! With what arrogance, what stupidity, what haughtiness! And why was he giving them to our legates, when he was sending Cotyla to us — the ornament and citadel of his friends, a man of aedilician rank? If indeed he was an aedile at the time when, by Antony’s order, the public slaves flogged him with their straps at a banquet.
an ego ab eo mandata acciperem qui senatus mandata contemneret? aut ei cum senatu quicquam commune iudicarem qui imperatorem populi Romani senatu prohibente obsideret? at quae mandata! qua adrogantia, quo stupore, quo spiritu! cur autem ea legatis nostris dabat, cum ad nos Cotylam mitteret, ornamentum atque arcem amicorum suorum, hominem aedilicium? si vero tum fuit aedilis cum eum iussu Antoni in convivio servi publici loris ceciderunt.
But how modest the instructions! We are men of iron, senators, if we deny this man anything. “Both provinces,” he says, “I give back: I lay down my army: I do not refuse to be a private citizen.” For these are his very words. He seems to be coming round. “I forget everything; I return to goodwill.” But what does he add? “If you will give to my six legions, to my cavalry, to my praetorian cohort, estates and land.” He demands rewards even for those for whom, if he were to ask mere pardon, he would be judged the most shameless of men. He adds besides that the lands which he himself, together with Dolabella, has granted, those to whom they were given should keep.
at quam modesta mandata! ferrei sumus, patres conscripti, qui quicquam huic negemus. ‘Vtramque provinciam’ inquit ‘remitto: exercitum depono: privatus esse non recuso.’ haec sunt enim verba. redire ad se videtur. ‘ omnia obliviscor, in gratiam redeo.’ sed quid adiungit? ‘si legionibus meis sex, si equitibus, si cohorti praetoriae praedia agrumque dederitis.’ Eis etiam praemia postulat quibus ut ignoscatur si postulet, impudentissimus iudicetur. addit praeterea ut, quos ipse cum Dolabella dederit agros, teneant ei quibus dati sint.
Here is the Campanian land and the Leontine, which two our ancestors counted the refuges of the grain-supply. He makes provision for actors, for gamblers, for pimps; he makes provision, too, for Cafo and Saxa, those pugnacious and brawny centurions whom he has stationed amid the troops of male and female actors. He demands besides that the sum total of his autographs and notebooks, and the decrees of his colleague, should stand. Why does he trouble himself that each man should keep what he has bought, if the man who sold it keeps what he received? And that the accounts at the temple of Ops be not touched: that is, that the seven hundred million be not recovered; that it be no crime in the Septemviri that they did what they did. Nucula, I suppose, prompted this: he was afraid, perhaps, of losing so great a body of clients. He wants provision made, too, for those who are with him, for whatever they have done against the laws. For Mustela and Tiro he looks ahead: for himself he takes no trouble.
hic est Campanus ager et Leontinus, quae duo maiores nostri annonae perfugia ducebant. cavet mimis, aleatoribus, lenonibus: Cafoni etiam et Saxae cavet, quos centuriones pugnacis et lacertosos inter mimorum et mimarum greges conlocavit. postulat praeterea ut chirographorum summa et commentariorum conlegaeque sui decreta maneant. quid laborat ut habeat quod quisque mercatus est, si quod accepit habet qui vendidit? et ne tangantur rationes ad Opis: id est, ne septiens miliens recuperetur; ne fraudi sit vii viris quod egissent. Nucula hoc, credo, admonuit: verebatur fortasse ne amitteret tantas clientelas. Caveri etiam volt eis qui secum sint quicquid contra leges commiserint. mustelae et Tironi prospicit: de se nihil laborat.
For what has he ever committed? Has he laid a hand on public money, or killed a man, or kept armed men about him? But why should he trouble himself about these men? For he demands that his judiciary law be not repealed. With that obtained, what has he to fear? That one of his men should be condemned by a Cydas, a Lysiades, a Curius? And yet he does not press us with many demands; he remits something, and relaxes. “The toga-clad Gaul,” he says, “I give back; the long-haired I demand” — at his ease, you see, he prefers to be — “with six legions,” he says, “and those filled up out of Decimus Brutus’s army,” not merely from his own levy; and he is to hold it for so long as Marcus Brutus and Gaius Cassius shall hold their provinces as consuls or proconsuls. At the elections for this province his brother Gaius — for it is his year — has already met with a rebuff. “But I myself,” he says, “am to hold it for five years.”
quid enim commisit umquam? num aut pecuniam publicam attigit aut hominem occidit aut secum habuit armatos? sed quid est quod de eis laboret? postulat enim ne sua iudiciaria lex abrogetur. quo impetrato quid est quod metuat? an ne suorum aliquis a Cyda, Lysiade, Curio condemnetur? neque tamen nos urget mandatis pluribus; remittit aliquantum et relaxat. ‘Galliam’ inquit ‘togatam remitto, comatam postulo’— otiosus videlicet esse mavolt —’cum sex legionibus’ inquit ‘eisque suppletis ex D. Bruti exercitu,’ non modo ex dilectu suo, tam diuque ut obtineat dum M. Brutus C. Cassius consules prove coss. provincias obtinebunt. huius comitiis C. frater—eius est enim annus —iam repulsam tulit. ‘ ipse autem ut quinquennium’ inquit ‘obtineam.’
But that the law of Caesar forbids — and you defend the acts of Caesar. These demands, Lucius Piso, and you, Lucius Philippus, leading men of the state — could you, I will not say bear in spirit, but receive with your ears? But, as I suspect, there was a certain terror: you were with him neither as legates nor as consulars; you could maintain neither your own dignity nor that of the commonwealth. And yet, somehow — by a certain wisdom, I suppose, which I could not have shown — you came back not too greatly angered. To you Marcus Antonius granted nothing — to you, men of the highest distinction, legates of the Roman people: yet what did we not concede to Cotyla, Marcus Antonius’s legate? To one for whom there was no right that the gates of this city should stand open, to him this temple stood open; to him there was admittance to the Senate; he, yesterday, was entering your opinions and every word in his note-tablets; and to him even men who have held the highest honours were peddling themselves, against their own dignity.
at istud vetat lex Caesaris, et tu acta Caesaris defendis. haec tu mandata, L. Piso, et tu, L. Philippe, principes civitatis, non dico animo ferre verum auribus accipere potuistis? sed, ut suspicor, terror erat quidam: nec vos ut legati apud illum fuistis nec ut consulares, nec vos vestram nec rei publicae dignitatem tenere potuistis. et tamen nescio quo pacto sapientia quadam, credo, quod ego non possem, non nimis irati revertistis. vobis M. Antonius nihil tribuit, clarissimis viris, legatis populi Romani: nos quid non legato M. Antoni Cotylae concessimus? cui portas huius urbis patere ius non erat, huic hoc templum patuit, huic aditus in senatum fuit, hic hesterno die sententias vestras in codicillos et omnia verba referebat, huic se etiam summis honoribus usi contra suam dignitatem venditabant.
O immortal gods! How great a thing it is to maintain the role of a leading man in the commonwealth! — a role that ought to serve the citizens not only in their minds but in their very eyes. To receive an enemy’s legate into one’s house, to admit him to one’s chamber, even to draw him aside, is the act of a man who thinks nothing of his dignity and too much of his danger. But what is the danger? For if it comes to the utmost crisis, either liberty is prepared for the victor or death set before the vanquished: of which the one is to be wished for, the other no one can escape. But a shameful flight from death is worse than any death. For this, indeed, I am not brought to believe —
O di immortales! quam magnum est personam in re publica tueri principis! quae non animis solum debet sed etiam oculis servire civium. domum recipere legatum hostium, in cubiculum admittere, etiam seducere hominis est nihil de dignitate, nimium de periculo cogitantis. quod autem est periculum? nam si maximum in discrimen venitur, aut libertas parata victori est aut mors proposita victo: quorum alterum optabile est, alterum effugere nemo potest. turpis autem fuga mortis omni est morte peior. nam illud quidem non adducor ut credam,
— that there are certain men who envy another’s constancy, who resent his toil, who take it ill that an unbroken will to aid the commonwealth wins approval from both the Senate and the Roman people. All of us, indeed, ought to do this, and it was — not only among our ancestors but even lately — the highest praise of the consulars: to keep watch, to be present in spirit, always to think or to do or to say something for the commonwealth.
esse quosdam qui invideant alicuius constantiae, qui labori, qui perpetuam in re publica adiuvanda voluntatem et senatui et populo Romano probari moleste ferant. omnes id quidem facere debebamus, eaque erat non modo apud maiores nostros sed etiam nuper summa laus consularium, vigilare, adesse animo, semper aliquid pro re publica aut cogitare aut facere aut dicere.
I remember, senators, Quintus Scaevola the augur, in the Marsic War, when he was of the greatest age and of broken health, every day, as soon as it grew light, giving to all the opportunity of meeting him: nor did anyone in that war see him in his bed, and, old and feeble as he was, he was the first to come into the Senate-house. His industry I should most wish to be imitated by those who ought to imitate it; but, failing that, that they should not envy another’s toil.
ego, patres conscripti, Q. Scaevolam augurem memoria teneo bello Marsico, cum esset summa senectute et perdita valetudine, cotidie simul atque luceret facere omnibus conveniendi potestatem sui: nec eum quisquam illo bello vidit in lecto, senexque et debilis primus veniebat in curiam. huius industriam maxime equidem vellem ut imitarentur ei quos oportebat; secundo autem loco ne alterius labori inviderent.
For indeed, senators, since after six years we have entered upon the hope of liberty, and have endured slavery longer than thrifty and diligent captives are wont to do, what watches, what anxieties, what toils ought we to refuse for the sake of freeing the Roman people? For my own part, senators, although those who have held this honour are accustomed to wear the toga even when the state is in war-cloaks, I have nevertheless resolved not to differ in dress from you and the rest of the citizens, in so great an atrocity of the time and so great a disturbance of the commonwealth. For we consulars are not conducting ourselves in this war in such a way that the Roman people will look with an even mind upon the insignia of our honour — when some of us are so timid that they have cast away all memory of the Roman people’s benefactions; some so turned away from the commonwealth that they openly show that they favour the enemy, that they easily endure our legates being scorned and mocked by Antony, and would have Antony’s legate relieved. For they were saying that this man ought not to be barred from returning to Antony, and in the matter of receiving the same man they were correcting my motion. To them I will give way. Let Varius return to his commander — but on this condition, that he never come back to Rome. To the rest, however, if they lay aside their error and return to goodwill with the commonwealth, I think pardon and impunity should be granted.
etenim, patres conscripti, cum in spem libertatis sexennio post sumus ingressi diutiusque servitutem perpessi quam captivi frugi et diligentes solent, quas vigilias, quas sollicitudines, quos labores liberandi populi Romani causa recusare debemus? equidem, patres conscripti, quamquam hoc honore usi togati solent esse, cum est in sagis civitas, statui tamen a vobis ceterisque civibus in tanta atrocitate temporis tantaque perturbatione rei publicae non differre vestitu. non enim ita gerimus nos hoc bello consulares ut aequo animo populus Romanus visurus sit nostri honoris insignia, cum partim e nobis ita timidi sint ut omnem populi Romani beneficiorum memoriam abiecerint, partim ita a re publica aversi ut se hosti favere prae se ferant, legatos nostros ab Antonio despectos et inrisos facile patiantur, legatum Antoni sublevatum velint. hunc enim reditu ad Antonium prohiberi negabant oportere et in eodem excipiendo sententiam meam corrigebant. quibus geram morem. redeat ad imperatorem suum Varius, sed ea lege ne umquam Romam revertatur. ceteris autem, si errorem suum deposuerint et cum re publica in gratiam redierint, veniam et impunitatem dandam puto.
For these reasons I move as follows: that of those who are with Marcus Antonius, whoever shall have departed from arms and shall have come over, before the next Ides of March, either to the consuls Gaius Pansa or Aulus Hirtius, or to Decimus Brutus, commander and consul-designate, or to Gaius Caesar, propraetor — to them let it be held no fault that they were with Marcus Antonius. If any of those who are with Marcus Antonius shall have done anything that seems worthy of honour or reward, that the consuls Gaius Pansa and Aulus Hirtius, one or both, if it seem good to them, refer the matter of his honour or reward to the Senate on the earliest possible day. If anyone, after this decree of the Senate, shall have set out to join Antony — except Lucius Varius — the Senate will judge that he has acted against the commonwealth.
quas ob res ita censeo: Eorum qui cum M. Antonio sunt, qui ab armis discesserint et aut ad C. Pansam aut ad A. Hirtium consules aut ad Decimum Brutum imperatorem, consulem designatum, aut ad C. Caesarem pro praetore ante Idus Martias primas adierint, eis fraudi ne sit quod cum M. Antonio fuerint. si quis eorum qui cum M. Antonio sunt fecerit quod honore praemiove dignum esse videatur, uti C. Pansa A. Hirtius consules, alter ambove, si eis videbitur, de eius honore praemiove primo quoque die ad senatum referant. si quis post hoc senatus consultum ad Antonium profectus esset praeter L. Varium, senatum existimaturum eum contra rem publicam fecisse.