On the Manilian Law (On the Command of Pompey)

Although the sight of you in numbers has always been by far most pleasant to me, citizens, and this place has seemed the most ample for action and the most adorned for speaking, yet from this approach to praise, which has always been most open to the best men, not my own will up to now but the reckonings of my life undertaken from my entry into manhood have hindered me. For when before I dared not yet touch the authority of this place, and resolved that nothing should be brought hither save what was finished by talent and elaborated by industry, I thought that all my time should be spent on the times of my friends.

And so this place was never empty of those who defended your case, and my labour, busied chastely and uprightly in the perils of private men, has from your judgement attained the most ample fruit. For when, on account of the postponement of the elections, three times I was returned as first praetor by all the centuries, I easily understood, citizens, both what you judged of me and what you laid down for others. Now, when there is in me as much authority as you have wished there to be by giving me honours, and as much faculty for action as the almost daily practice of speaking from forensic use could bring to a watchful man, surely both what authority I have I shall use among those who have given it to me, and what I can attain in speaking I shall show especially to those who have judged that fruit also should be granted to that thing by their judgement.

And this above all I see I rightly should rejoice in: that in this — to me unfamiliar — manner of speaking from this place, such a case has been laid before me in which speech can be wanting to no man. For I must speak of the singular and outstanding virtue of Gnaeus Pompeius. But of this speech it is harder to find the end than the beginning. So that I must seek not so much abundance as measure in speaking.

And that my speech may set out from where the whole case is drawn: a grave and perilous war is being brought against your revenues and your allies by two most powerful kings, Mithridates and Tigranes, of whom the one being left, the other being provoked, each thinks that an opportunity has been offered him for seizing Asia. To Roman knights, most honourable men, letters are brought daily out of Asia, of whom great affairs are being carried on, occupied in working your revenues; who, on the connection which I have with that order, have brought to me the case of the commonwealth and the perils of their own affairs:

that several villages of Bithynia (which is now your province) have been burned out; that the kingdom of Ariobarzanes (which borders on your revenues) is wholly in the power of the enemy; that Lucius Lucullus, with great deeds done, is leaving that war; that he who has succeeded him is not prepared enough to administer such a war; that one general is being demanded and sought by all your allies and citizens for that war; that this same one alone is feared by the enemy — besides, none.

You see what the cause is. Now consider yourselves what must be done. First, I think I must speak about the kind of war; then about the size of it; then about choosing a general. The kind is of that war which most ought to rouse and inflame your minds to the zeal of pursuing. In which the glory of the Roman people is at stake, which has been handed down to you by your ancestors — great in all things, the highest in military matters. The safety of allies and friends is at stake, for which your ancestors waged many great and grave wars. The most certain and greatest revenues of the Roman people are at stake, which lost, you will lack both the ornaments of peace and the supports of war. The goods of many citizens are at stake, for which the commonwealth and they themselves must be consulted by you.

And since you have always been more eager for glory and greedy for praise than other peoples, that stain conceived in the previous Mithridatic war must be wiped out by you, which has now sunk deep and grown old in the name of the Roman people — that he, who in one day in all Asia, in so many cities, by one message and one signal, ordered all Roman citizens to be killed and slaughtered, has not only up to now received no punishment worthy of his crime, but from that time has now reigned for the twenty-third year, and so reigns that he wishes not to hide himself in the lurking-places of Pontus or of Cappadocia, but to come forth from his ancestral kingdom and to be at large in your revenues, that is, in the light of Asia.

For up to now our generals have so contended with that king that they brought back from him the marks of victory, not victory itself. Lucius Sulla triumphed; Lucius Murena triumphed over Mithridates — two bravest men and highest generals; but they so triumphed that the man, driven and overcome, kept reigning. But yet praise must be given those generals for what they did; pardon must be granted for what they left unfinished, because from that war the commonwealth recalled Sulla into Italy, Sulla recalled Murena.

But Mithridates devoted all the rest of the time not to forgetting the old war but to preparing a new one. Who afterwards, when he had built and equipped the largest fleets and gathered very great armies from whatever peoples he could, and was pretending to bring war on the Bosporans, his neighbours, sent envoys and letters all the way to Spain to those leaders with whom we were then waging war, that, when in two most distant and most diverse places by one counsel war was waged on land and sea by two enemy forces, you, distracted by the doubtful contention, should fight for the empire.

But yet the danger of one part — the Sertorian and Spanish, which had much more strength and steadiness — was driven off by Gnaeus Pompeius’s divine counsel and singular virtue; in the other part the matter was so handled by Lucius Lucullus, the highest man, that the great and distinguished beginnings of his deeds seem to be ascribed not to his luck but to his virtue, while these last things which have lately happened seem to be ascribed not to fault but to fortune. But of Lucullus I shall speak in another place, and so I shall speak, citizens, that neither true praise should seem to be drawn from him by my speech, nor false praise feigned upon him.

Of the dignity and glory of your empire, since that is the beginning of my speech, see what spirit you ought to take up. Our ancestors often waged wars for our merchants or shippers too injuriously treated. With so many thousands of Roman citizens killed by one message and at one time — with what spirit, after all, ought you to be? Because legates had been addressed too haughtily, your fathers willed Corinth, the light of all Greece, to be put out. Will you suffer that king to be unavenged who killed an envoy of the Roman people, a man of consular rank, after torturing him with chains and with floggings and with every punishment? They could not bear that the liberty of Roman citizens should be lessened. Will you neglect that life is taken away? They pursued the right of legation violated by a word. Will you leave a legate killed by every punishment?

See lest, as it was most beautiful for them to hand down to you so great a glory of empire, so it should be most foul for you not to be able to keep and preserve what you have received. What? That the safety of allies is called into the highest peril and crisis — with what spirit, after all, ought you to bear that? King Ariobarzanes, an ally and friend of the Roman people, has been driven out of his kingdom. Two kings hang over all Asia, most hostile not only to you but also to your allies and friends. But all states throughout all Asia and Greece are compelled, on account of the size of the peril, to await your help: yet to demand a sure general from you (especially since you have sent another) they neither dare nor reckon they can do it without the highest peril.

For they see and feel this same as you: that there is one man in whom the highest things are all, and that he is near, by which they the more grievously are without him; whose very coming and name (although he came for the maritime war) yet they understand has held back and slowed the onsets of the enemy. These men, since it is not lawful to speak freely, ask you silently that you should also reckon them worthy whose safety you should commend to such a man, and this even the more because we send to other provinces such men with command that, even if they defend them from the enemy, yet their very coming into the cities of allies differs not much from a hostile storming. They were hearing of him before; now present they see him with such temperance, such gentleness, such humanity that those seem to be the most blessed with whom he most long stays.

Wherefore, if for the sake of allies, with no wrong of their own, our ancestors waged wars with Antiochus, with Philip, with the Aetolians, with the Carthaginians — how much the more zealously does it become you, provoked by wrongs, to defend the safety of the allies together with the dignity of your empire, especially when it is a matter of your greatest revenues? For the revenues of other provinces, citizens, are so great that with them we can scarcely be content for keeping the provinces themselves. But Asia is so rich and fertile that by the abundance of its fields and the variety of its fruits and the size of its pastures and the multitude of those things which can be exported, it easily surpasses all lands. And so this province, citizens, if you wish to keep both the usefulness of war and the dignity of peace, must be defended not only from calamity but even from the fear of calamity.

For in other things, when calamity comes, then the loss is taken. But in the revenues, not only the coming of evil but even the very fear brings calamity. For when the forces of enemies are not far off, even if no breach has been made, yet the cattle are abandoned, the tilling of the field is deserted, the sailing of merchants comes to rest. So neither from the harbour, nor from the tithes, nor from the pasture-tax can revenue be kept; wherefore often the harvest of a whole year is lost by one rumour of peril and one terror of war.

What spirit then do you reckon those have either who pay the revenues to us, or those who work and exact them, when two kings with the largest forces are near at hand; when one running up of cavalry can in a very short time take away the revenue of a whole year; when the publicans reckon they hold at great peril the largest households which they have in the salt-pans, in the fields, in the harbours, and in the watch-stations? Do you suppose you can enjoy these things, unless you have kept those who are a fruit to you freed not only (as I said before) from calamity but even from the fear of calamity?

And not even this must be neglected by you which I had set as last for myself when I was about to speak about the kind of war: that this matter has to do with the goods of many Roman citizens, of whom by your own wisdom, citizens, account must be diligently taken. For both the publicans, most honourable and most adorned men, have brought their reckonings and resources into that province, of whom themselves the affairs and fortunes for their own sake ought to be a care to you. For if we have always reckoned that the revenues are the sinews of the commonwealth, surely that order which works them we shall rightly say is the support of the rest of the orders.

Then out of the rest of the orders busy and industrious men do business, some themselves in Asia, for whom in their absence you ought to provide; some have great sums of money placed in that province. So it is of your humanity to keep a great number of citizens from calamity; of your wisdom to see that the calamity of many citizens cannot be sundered from the commonwealth. For first, this is of small worth: that you, the publicans, should afterwards by victory recover the revenues lost. For neither will the same have means to take them on, on account of the calamity, nor will others have the will, on account of fear.

Then what the same Asia and that same Mithridates taught us at the start of the Asiatic war — that, surely, taught by calamity, we ought to keep in memory. For then, when many in Asia lost great fortunes, we know that at Rome credit fell, with payments hindered. For it cannot be that many in one state should lose their property and fortunes without dragging more with them into the same calamity. From this peril keep the commonwealth. For (believe me what you yourselves see) this credit and this reasoning of moneys, which is at large at Rome, which is in the forum, is entangled with those Asiatic moneys and clings together. Those things cannot fall without these, shaken by the same motion, falling. Wherefore see whether you must hesitate to lean with all zeal toward that war in which the glory of your name, the safety of allies, the greatest revenues, the fortunes of very many citizens joined with the commonwealth, are being defended.

Since I have spoken about the kind of war, now of its size I shall say a few things. For this can be said: that the kind of war is necessary so that it must be waged, but is not so great that it must be greatly feared. In which one must most labour, lest perhaps those things which must be most diligently provided for shall seem to you must be despised. And that all may understand that I attribute to Lucius Lucullus as much praise as is owed to a brave man and a wise man and a great general, I say that at his coming the largest forces of Mithridates were equipped and drawn up in all things; and that the most distinguished and most friendly city of Asia to us, that of the Cyziceans, was pressed by the king himself with the greatest multitude and most vehemently besieged; which Lucius Lucullus by virtue, persistence, counsel freed from the highest perils of the siege.

By the same general a great and equipped fleet, which under the Sertorian leaders, inflamed with zeal and hatred, was being borne against Italy, was overcome and sunk; great forces of the enemy besides were destroyed in many battles; and the Pontus, which before had been closed to the Roman people from every approach, was opened to our legions; Sinope and Amisus, in which towns were homes of the king equipped and stuffed with all things, and very many other cities of Pontus and Cappadocia, were captured by one approach and coming. The king, despoiled of his ancestral and grandfather’s kingdom, betook himself as suppliant to other kings and other peoples. And all these things were done with the allies of the Roman people kept safe and the revenues whole. Praise enough this is, I think; and so, citizens, that you may understand this: that by none of those who carp at this law and case has Lucius Lucullus been likewise praised from this place.

Perhaps now it will be asked in what manner, since these things are so, the rest of the war can be great. Learn, citizens; for not without cause this seems to be asked. First, Mithridates fled from his own kingdom in such a way as that famous Medea once is said to have fled from the same Pontus, of whom they tell that in her flight she scattered the limbs of her brother in those places by which her parent was pursuing her, that the gathering of them dispersed and the parent’s grief should slow the speed of pursuing. So Mithridates fleeing left in Pontus the greatest store of gold and silver and of all most beautiful things, which he had received from his ancestors and had himself in the previous war heaped up in his kingdom from all Asia plundered. While our men were diligently gathering all these, the king himself escaped from their hands. So grief slowed him in the zeal of pursuing; them, joy.

Tigranes, king of Armenia, received him in that fear and flight, and confirmed him distrustful of his affairs and raised him afflicted and revived him ruined. Into whose kingdom afterwards, when Lucius Lucullus came with the army, more peoples too were stirred against our general. For fear had been thrown into those peoples whom the Roman people had never thought ought either to be provoked by war or to be tried; there was also another grave and vehement opinion which had pervaded the minds of the barbarian nations: that for the sake of plundering a most well-off and most religious shrine our army had been brought into those shores. So many and great peoples were being stirred up by a kind of new terror and fear. But our army, although it had taken a city out of Tigranes’s kingdom and had used favourable battles, was yet moved by the excessive distance of places and by the longing for their own.

Here I shall say no more. For this was the end: that out of those places by our soldiers a more timely return rather than a longer advance was sought. But Mithridates had now confirmed himself and his band by the work of those who had withdrawn to him from his own kingdom, and was helped by the great accidental supports of many kings and peoples. Now this is generally wont to happen: that the afflicted fortunes of kings easily draw the resources of many to pity — and most of those who are either kings or live in a kingdom, since to them the kingly name seems great and sacred.

So conquered he could effect as much as unhurt he had never dared to wish. For when he had received himself into his own kingdom, he was not content with what had happened to him beyond hope — that, after he had been driven out, he should ever touch that land — but he made an attack on our distinguished and victorious army. Allow me here, citizens, as the poets are wont who write Roman matters, to pass over our calamity, which was so great that it brought it to the general’s ears not as a message from a battle but as a rumour from talk. Here in that very ill and most grave check of war, Lucius

Lucullus, who could perhaps in some part have remedied those hurts, by your order compelled — you who thought that, by old example, a measure must be set to the length of imperium — some of the soldiers (who had now finished their service) discharged, some he handed over to Manius Glabrio. Many things I pass over on purpose. But by guess see how great you should reckon that war to have become, which the most powerful kings join, the stirred peoples renew, the whole peoples take up, our new general receives with the old army driven away.

I think I have said enough as to why this war is by its very kind necessary, by its size perilous. It remains that I should speak about choosing a general for that war and putting him in charge of such great matters. Would, citizens, that you had so great a supply of brave and innocent men that this deliberation should be hard for you — whom in particular you should reckon must be put in charge of such great matters and so great a war! But now, when there is one Gnaeus Pompeius who has surpassed in virtue not only the glory of those men who now are but even the memory of antiquity, what thing is there which can make any man’s mind doubtful in this case?

For I so think: that in the highest general these four things ought to be: knowledge of the military art, virtue, authority, fortune. Who then was either ever or ought to have been more knowing than this man? Who from school and from the lessons of boyhood, in the greatest war and against the fiercest enemies, set out for his father’s army and into the discipline of military service; who in his last boyhood was a soldier in the army of the highest general; in the entrance of manhood was himself the general of the largest army; who has more often clashed with an enemy than anyone has fought with a personal foe; has waged more wars than the rest have read; has finished off more provinces than others have desired; whose youth was trained for the knowledge of military art not by foreign precepts but by his own commands; not by the checks of war but by victories; not by stipends but by triumphs. What kind of war, finally, can there be in which the fortune of the commonwealth has not exercised him? The civil war, the African, the Transalpine, the Spanish (mixed of citizens and most warlike peoples), the slave war, the naval war — the various and diverse kinds both of wars and of enemies, not only waged by him alone but also finished off, declare that there is nothing set in the use of the military which can escape the knowledge of this man.

Now of the virtue of Gnaeus Pompeius, what speech can be found equal? What is there which any man can bring forth either worthy of him or new to you or unheard by anyone? For not only are those generalship’s virtues which are commonly reckoned: labour in business, fortitude in perils, industry in acting, swiftness in finishing, counsel in foreseeing — which are so great in this one man as in all the rest of the generals whom we have either seen or heard of they have not been. Italy is witness, which he himself the conqueror Lucius

Sulla confessed had been freed by the virtue and aid of this man. Sicily is witness, which, surrounded by many perils on every side, he disentangled not by the terror of war but by the swiftness of counsel. Africa is witness, which, pressed by great forces of the enemy, overflowed with the blood of those very enemies. Gaul is witness, through which a way for our legions into Spain was opened by the slaughter of the Gauls. Spain is witness, which most often saw the most enemies overcome and laid low by him. Italy is witness again and the more often, which, when it was being pressed by the foul and perilous slave war, asked help of him in his absence; which war by the expectation of him was thinned and lessened, by his coming was taken away and buried.

Witnesses now indeed all coasts and all lands, peoples, nations; finally all seas, both wholly and on every coast all bays and harbours. For what place in the whole sea through these years either had so firm a guard as to be safe, or was so hidden as to lie in concealment? Who sailed who did not commit himself to the peril either of death or of slavery, when he sailed either in winter or on a sea filled with brigands? This great a war, so foul, so old, so widely divided and dispersed, who would ever have reckoned could be finished off either by all generals in one year or in all years by one general?

What province have you held free of brigands through these years? What revenue has been safe to you? What ally have you defended? To whom have you been a defence by your fleets? How many islands do you reckon have been deserted, how many cities of allies either left out of fear or captured by brigands? But why do I recall distant things? It once was — it was the special way of the Roman people to wage war far from home and to defend with the bulwarks of empire the fortunes of allies, not their own roofs. Shall I say that the sea has been closed to your allies through these years, when your armies never crossed from Brundisium save in highest winter? Shall I complain that those who came to you from foreign nations were captured, when envoys of the Roman people have been ransomed? Shall I say that the sea was not safe for merchants, when twelve fasces have come into the power of brigands?

Shall I recall Cnidus or Colophon or Samos, most noble cities, and countless others captured, when you know that your harbours, and those harbours from which you draw life and breath, have been in the power of brigands? Or are you ignorant that the harbour of Caieta, most frequented and most full of ships, with the praetor looking on, was plundered by brigands; and that out of Misenum the children of him who had before waged war with the brigands were carried off by the brigands? For why should I complain of the Ostian misfortune and that disgrace and ignominy of the commonwealth, when, almost with you looking on, that fleet over which a consul of the Roman people had been set was captured and sunk by brigands? By the immortal gods! Could the incredible and divine virtue of one man in so short a time bring such great light to the commonwealth, that you, who lately were seeing the fleet of the enemy before the Tiber’s mouth, now hear that there is no pirate ship within the mouth of Ocean?

And with what swiftness these things were done — although you see it — yet must not be passed over by me in speaking. For who, ever in the zeal of going about a business or of pursuing gain, could in so short a time approach so many places, finish so many courses, as swiftly as, with Gnaeus Pompeius as leader, the rush of so great a war sailed? Who, the sea not yet timely for sailing, came to Sicily, explored Africa, came thence with the fleet to Sardinia, and fortified these three grain-supports of the commonwealth with most firm guards and fleets.

Then when he had received himself into Italy, with the two Spains and Transalpine Gaul confirmed by guards and ships, with ships likewise sent into the coast of the Illyrian sea and into Achaia and all Greece, he adorned the two seas of Italy with the largest fleets and the firmest guards. He himself, when he set out from Brundisium, on the forty-ninth day joined all Cilicia to the imperium of the Roman people. All who were brigands anywhere were partly captured and killed, partly gave themselves to the imperium and power of him alone. The same to the Cretans, when they had sent envoys and intercessors all the way into Pamphylia to him, did not take away the hope of surrender and ordered hostages. So a war so great, so long-lasting, so widely and broadly dispersed, by which war all peoples and nations were pressed, Gnaeus Pompeius prepared in the last winter, took up at the entrance of spring, finished off in midsummer.

This is the divine and incredible virtue of the general. What? The rest, which a little before I had begun to recall — how great and how many they are! For not only the virtue of waging war is to be sought in the highest and finished general, but there are many singular arts which are the helpers and companions of this virtue. And first, with how great innocence ought generals to be, with how great temperance in all things, with how great faith, with how great affability, with how great talent, with how great humanity! Which let us briefly consider, what they are like in Gnaeus Pompeius. For all are at the highest, citizens; but they can be known and understood more by the contention with others than by themselves.

For whom can we reckon a general in any number, in whose army centurionships are sold and have been sold? What can such a man think great or ample about the commonwealth, who has either, on account of greed for the province, divided money taken out of the treasury for the administering of war among the magistrates, or, on account of greed at Rome, left it for gain? Your murmuring shows, citizens, that you seem to know who has done these things. But I name no one. Wherefore no one will be able to be angry with me, save him who shall first wish to confess about himself. So on account of this greed of the generals, what calamities our armies bring (wherever they have come) who is ignorant?

Recall the journeys which through these years in Italy through the fields and towns of the Roman citizens our generals have made. Then will you the more easily decide what you reckon happens among foreign nations. Do you reckon more cities of the enemy through these years to have been destroyed by the arms of your soldiers, or states of the allies by their winter-quarters? For neither can a general hold his army in check who does not himself hold himself in check, nor be strict in judging who does not wish others to be strict judges over himself. Here we wonder that this man so excels the rest,

whose legions have so come into Asia that not only the hand of so great an army but not even a footprint, it is said, harmed any man at peace. Now indeed in what manner the soldiers winter, daily talk and letters bring; not only is force used to no man that he should make outlay on a soldier, but to no eager one is anything granted. For our ancestors wished a refuge of winter, not of greed, to be in the roofs of allies and friends.

Come now, in other things consider what temperance there is. Whence do you suppose that great swiftness and that incredible course was found? For not the singular force of rowers or some unheard art of steering or some new winds carried him so swiftly into the most distant lands, but those things which are wont to slow others did not slow him. Greed did not call him from his appointed course to some plunder; lust did not, to pleasure; pleasantness did not, to delight; the nobility of a city did not, to learning; finally labour itself did not, to rest. Lastly, the statues and panels and the rest of the ornaments of Greek towns, which the rest reckon must be taken, he reckoned not even worth seeing.

So all now in those places look upon Gnaeus Pompeius as someone not sent out of this city but fallen from heaven. Now at last they begin to believe that the Roman men were once of this self-restraint, which to foreign nations now seemed incredible and falsely handed down to memory. Now the splendour of your empire begins to bring light to those peoples; now they understand that not without cause their ancestors at the time when we held magistrates of that temperance preferred to serve the Roman people than to rule over others. Now indeed the approaches of private men to him are so easy, the complaints of the wrongs of others so free, that he who excels in dignity over the chiefs seems equal in affability to the lowest.

Now how much by counsel, how much by gravity and abundance of speaking he prevails (in which itself there is a certain generalship’s dignity) you, citizens, from this very place have often known. But how great his faith is reckoned among allies, which all enemies of every kind have judged most sacred? In humanity now he is so great that it is hard to say whether the enemies fearing more dreaded his virtue, or the conquered loved his gentleness. And will any man doubt that this great a war must be entrusted to him, who seems to have been born by some divine counsel for finishing off all the wars of our memory?

And since authority too in administering wars and in the military command has much weight, surely there is no doubt to anyone that in this very thing the same general can do most. But that it has very much to do with administering wars what enemies and allies think of our generals, who is ignorant, when we know that men in such great matters are moved (whether to fear or to despise or to hate or to love) no less by opinion and rumour than by some sure reasoning? What name then was ever in the world more famous, whose deeds equal? About what man have you (which most makes authority) made such great and such distinguished judgements?

Or do you suppose any shore is anywhere so deserted that the rumour of that day has not reached it, when the whole Roman people, with the forum filled and all temples filled out of which this place can be seen, demanded for itself one Gnaeus Pompeius as general for the war common to all peoples? Therefore — that I may not say more, nor confirm by the examples of others how much authority has weight in war — let examples of all distinguished things be taken from the same Gnaeus Pompeius. Who, on the day on which he was set in command of the maritime war by you, suddenly so great a cheapness followed out of the highest want and dearness of grain, on the hope and name of one man, as long peace in the highest abundance of fields could scarcely have brought about.

Now, with the calamity received in Pontus from that battle which a little before unwillingly I have recalled, when the allies had been terrified, the resources and spirits of the enemy had grown, the province did not have enough firm a guard, you would have lost Asia, citizens, had not, at the very crisis of that time, by divine providence the fortune of the Roman people brought Gnaeus Pompeius to those regions. The coming of him both held in Mithridates puffed up by his unaccustomed victory, and slowed Tigranes threatening Asia with great forces. And will any doubt what he is to bring to pass by virtue, who has brought to pass so much by authority — or how easily by his command and army he is to keep safe the allies and revenues, who has defended them by his very name and rumour?

Come now: how great does that thing show this same man’s authority among the enemies of the Roman people? — that, from places so distant and so diverse, in so short a time all gave themselves up to him alone; that from the common council of the Cretans envoys, when our general and army were in their island, came to Gnaeus Pompeius almost into the most distant lands and said that all the Cretan states wished to give themselves up to him! What? Did not the same Mithridates send a legate to the same Gnaeus Pompeius all the way into Spain? Whom Pompeius always judged a legate, those to whom it was troublesome that he had been sent to him in particular preferred to be judged a spy rather than a legate. You can therefore now decide, citizens, how great this authority, by many things afterwards done and by your great judgements amplified, will weigh among those kings, among foreign nations.

It remains that of fortune — which no man can promise on his own behalf, of another we can recall and remember (as is fair, men should about the power of the gods) — we should speak timidly and a few things. For I so think: that to maximus-cunctator/">Maximus, to Marcellus, to Scipio, to Marius, and to the rest of the great generals not only on account of virtue but also on account of fortune commands have often been entrusted and armies committed. For some highest men have surely had a certain fortune divinely joined to them for amplitude and for glory and for great deeds well managed. But of this man’s fortune of whom we are now speaking I shall use this moderation of speaking: not to say that fortune lies in his power, but that we may seem to remember the past and to hope for what remains, lest our speech should seem either hated by the immortal gods or unwelcome.

So I shall not proclaim what great things he has done at home and in war, by land and by sea, and with how great fortune — so that to his wishes always not only the citizens have agreed, the allies obeyed, the enemies submitted, but even the winds and weather have helped. This most briefly I shall say: that no man was ever so shameless that he silently dared to wish from the immortal gods so many and so great things as the immortal gods have granted to Gnaeus Pompeius. That this should be his own and lasting, citizens, both for the sake of the common safety and the empire and for the man himself, you ought (as you do) both to wish and to pray.

Wherefore, since the war is so necessary that it cannot be neglected, so great that it must be most carefully administered, and you can put in charge of it a general in whom there is singular knowledge of war, singular virtue, the most distinguished authority, distinguished fortune, do you doubt, citizens, to confer this great a good which has been offered and given you by the immortal gods on the keeping safe and the amplifying of the commonwealth? But if at Rome Gnaeus

Pompeius were a private citizen at this time, yet for so great a war he would have to be chosen and sent. Now, when to other highest advantages this opportunity also is added — that he is in those very places, that he has an army, that he can at once receive it from those who have it — what do we await? Or why, with the immortal gods as leaders, do we not commend this royal war also to the same man to whom the rest, with the highest safety of the commonwealth, have been entrusted?

But the most distinguished man, most loving the commonwealth, afflicted by your most ample kindnesses, Quintus Catulus, and likewise the man endowed with the highest ornaments of honour, of fortune, of virtue, of talent, Quintus Hortensius, dissent from this reasoning. Whose authority I confess to have had and ought to have most weight before you in many places. But in this case — although you know the contrary authorities of bravest and most distinguished men — yet, with authorities laid aside, by the very matter and reasoning we can search out the truth. And the more easily because all those things which have been said by me up to now those same men grant to be true: both that the war is necessary and great, and that in one Gnaeus

Pompeius all the highest things are. What then does Hortensius say? That, if all things must be entrusted to one, Pompeius is most worthy; but that all should not be entrusted to one. That speech is now worn out, refuted by the matter much more than by words. For you yourself, Quintus Hortensius, by your highest abundance and singular faculty of speaking, said many things gravely and ornately in the senate against a brave man, Aulus Gabinius, when he had promulgated a law on setting up one general against the brigands; and from this very place you spoke very many words against that law also.

What? Then, by the immortal gods, if your authority had had more weight with the Roman people than the safety and true cause of the Roman people itself, would we today hold this glory and this empire of the world? Or did this seem to you then to be empire, when legates, quaestors, and praetors of the Roman people were being captured; when from all provinces by supply both private and public we were forbidden; when all seas were so closed to us that we could no longer go after either a private affair across the sea or a public one?

What state was ever before — I do not say of the Athenians, who once are said to have held the sea broadly enough; not of the Carthaginians, who in fleet and maritime matters had very great strength; not of the Rhodians, of whom the naval discipline and glory has remained up to our memory — what state, I say, was before so slight or so small that it did not by itself defend its own harbours and fields and some part of its region and maritime shore? But, by Hercules, for several years on end before the Gabinian law that Roman people, of whom up to our memory the name has remained unconquered in naval battles, lacked a great — and by far the greatest — part not only of advantage but of dignity and empire.

We, whose ancestors overcame King Antiochus and Perseus by fleet, and in all naval battles conquered the Carthaginians, men most practised and most prepared in maritime matters, we could now in no place be a match for brigands. We who before not only had Italy safe but could keep all our allies on the most distant shores safe by the authority of our empire — when the island of Delos, set so far from us in the Aegean sea, to which all from every side came with wares and cargoes, stuffed with riches, small, without a wall, feared nothing — the same lacked not only the provinces and the maritime shores of Italy and our harbours, but even the Appian way. And in those times was it not shameful for the magistrates of the Roman people to come up onto this very place, when our ancestors had left it adorned for us with naval trophies and the spoils of fleets?

The Roman people then, Quintus Hortensius, reckoned that you and the rest who were of the same opinion were speaking with good mind and what you felt; but yet in the common safety the same Roman people preferred to obey its own grief than your authority. So one law, one man, one year not only freed you from that wretchedness and foulness but even brought it about that you should at last truly seem to rule by land and sea over all peoples and nations.

Wherefore the more unworthy it seems to me that envy has up to now been thrown — shall I say at Gabinius, or at Pompeius, or at each (which is truer) — so that Aulus Gabinius should not be made legate to Gnaeus Pompeius asking and demanding it. Either is he who asks for so great a war a legate whom he wishes not fit that he should obtain it (when others have led out for plundering allies and tearing apart provinces what legates they wished); or shall the man himself, by whose law the safety and dignity has been set up for the Roman people and for all peoples, be without share of that general and that army which has been set up by his counsel and at his peril? Or did Gaius

Falcidius, Quintus Metellus, Quintus Caelius Latiniensis, Gnaeus Lentulus, all of whom I name for honour’s sake, when they had been tribunes of the plebs, in the next year be able to be legates? Are they so diligent in the case of Gabinius alone, who in this war which is being waged by the Gabinian law, with this general and army which through you he himself set up, ought to be even of special right? Of whose being made legate I trust the consuls will refer to the senate. If they shall doubt or shall be heavy, I myself profess I shall refer it; nor shall any man’s unfairness hinder me from defending, trusting in you, your right and kindness, nor shall I hear anything save intercession — about which (in my opinion) those very who threaten will yet again and again consider what is lawful. In my opinion, citizens, one Aulus Gabinius is to be inscribed as Gnaeus Pompeius’s partner of the maritime war and the deeds done; on the ground that the one entrusted to one the taking up of that war by your votes; the other, when entrusted and taken up, finished it.

It remains that of Quintus Catulus’s authority and opinion something must seem to be said. Who, when he asked of you, "If you should place all things in one Gnaeus Pompeius, if anything should happen to him, in whom would you be going to have hope?" — received the great fruit of his own virtue and dignity, when you all almost with one voice said you were going to have your hope in him. For he is such a man that there is no thing so great and so hard which he cannot both rule by counsel and keep by integrity and finish by virtue. But in this very thing I most vehemently dissent from him: that, the less sure and less long-lasting men’s life is, by so much more the commonwealth, while the immortal gods allow, ought to enjoy the life and virtue of the highest man.

But, says he, lest anything new be done against the examples and institutions of the elders. I shall not say in this place that our ancestors always in peace obeyed custom, in war advantage; always fitted the reasonings of new counsels to the new chances of times; I shall not say that two greatest wars, the Punic and the Spanish, were finished by one general; that the two most powerful cities which most threatened this empire, Carthage and Numantia, were destroyed by the same Scipio. I shall not recall that lately it seemed to you and your fathers that in one Gaius Marius the hope of empire was placed — that the same man with Jugurtha, the same with the Cimbri, the same with the Teutoni administered the war. In Gnaeus Pompeius himself — in whom Quintus Catulus wishes nothing new to be set up — recall how many new things have been set up by Quintus Catulus’s highest will.

What so new as that a young man as a private should put together an army at the difficult time of the commonwealth? He put it together. That he should be in command of it? He commanded. That he should manage the matter most excellently under his own leadership? He managed. What so beyond custom as that to a most young man whose age was far from the senatorial step a command and an army should be given, that Sicily should be entrusted, and Africa, and the war in that province should be administered? He was in those provinces with singular innocence, gravity, virtue; the greatest war in Africa he finished off; he brought back the victorious army. What so unheard as that a Roman knight should triumph? But the Roman people not only saw that thing too, but reckoned by the zeal of all that it ought to be seen and celebrated.

What so unfamiliar as that, when there were two most distinguished and bravest consuls, a Roman knight as proconsul should be sent to a most great and most fearful war? He was sent. At which time, when there was someone in the senate who said, "An ungoverned man ought not to be sent as proconsul," Lucius Philippus is said to have said: "Not as proconsul does he in his opinion send him, but for the consuls." Such great hope of the commonwealth’s being well managed was being placed in him, that the duty of two consuls was being entrusted to the virtue of one young man. What so singular as that by senatorial decree he should be made consul, freed from the laws, before he could legally have taken any other magistracy? What so incredible as that twice a Roman knight by senatorial decree should triumph? Those things which in all men have been newly set up since human memory — those are not so many as these which we have seen in this one man.

And these so many examples, so great and so new, came forth in the same man from the authority of Quintus Catulus and of the rest of the most ample men of the same dignity. Wherefore let them see lest it be most unfair and not to be borne that their authority concerning the dignity of Gnaeus Pompeius has always been approved by you, while your judgement and the authority of the Roman people about the same man should be disapproved by them; especially since the Roman people now in its own right can defend in this man its own authority even against all who dissent — because, with those very same men crying out against, you chose him alone of all to put in charge of the war on the brigands.

If you did this rashly and consulted too little for the commonwealth, those men rightly try to rule your zeal by their counsels. But if you saw more then in the commonwealth — if you, with them resisting, by yourselves brought dignity to this empire and safety to the world — let those chiefs at last confess that one must obey both for themselves and for the rest the authority of the whole Roman people. And in this Asiatic and royal war, citizens, not only that military virtue which is in Gnaeus Pompeius singular, but also other virtues of mind, great and many, are required. It is hard in Asia, Cilicia, Syria, and the kingdoms of the inland nations for our general so to be at large that he should think of nothing else save of the enemy and of praise. And next, even if there are some moderate enough by modesty and temperance, yet that they should be such no one thinks, on account of the multitude of greedy men.

It is hard to say, citizens, in how great hatred we are with foreign nations on account of the lusts and wrongs of those whom we have sent to them through these years with command. For what shrine in those lands do you think has been religious to our magistrates, what city sacred, what house enough closed and walled? Now wealthy and rich cities are looked for, on which the cause of war should be brought, on account of the means of plundering.

Willingly should I dispute these things in the presence of Quintus Catulus and Quintus Hortensius, the highest and most distinguished men. For they know the wounds of the allies, they see their calamities, they hear their complaints. On behalf of allies do you reckon that you send armies against enemies, or, under the pretence of enemies, against allies and friends? What city is there in Asia which can take the spirits and airs not only of a general or legate but of one tribune of the soldiers? Wherefore, even if you have someone who in pitched battle seems able to overcome the kings’ armies, yet, unless he shall be the same who can hold his hands, his eyes, his mind from the moneys of the allies, from their wives and children, from the ornaments of the shrines and towns, from the gold and the royal treasure — he will not be fit to be sent to the Asiatic and royal war.

Do you reckon that any city has been at peace which is wealthy, that any wealthy is reckoned by those men to be at peace? The maritime coast, citizens, demanded Gnaeus Pompeius not only on account of the glory of military matters but also on account of the self-restraint of his mind. For it saw the praetors enriching themselves yearly with public money (save a few), and that we attained nothing else under the name of fleets save that, by losses received, we should be afflicted with the greater foulness. Now, with what greed men set out to provinces, with what losses and on what conditions, those, of course, are ignorant who think that all things ought not to be entrusted to one. As if we did not see that Gnaeus Pompeius is great both with his own virtues and also with others’ vices.

Wherefore do not doubt to entrust all things to this one man, who through so many years has alone been found whom the allies were glad to have come into their cities with an army. But if you think this case ought to be confirmed by authorities, citizens, you have as authority a man most experienced in all wars and the greatest matters, Publius Servilius, whose deeds done by land and sea have stood out so great that, when you deliberate about a war, no man ought to be a graver authority for you. There is Gaius Curio, endowed with your highest kindnesses and the greatest deeds done, with highest talent and prudence. There is Gnaeus Lentulus, in whom (by your most ample honours) you all know there is the highest counsel, the highest gravity. There is Gaius Cassius, of singular integrity, truth, constancy. Wherefore see whether by the authorities of these we may seem able to answer the speech of those who dissent.

Since these things are so, Gaius Manilius, first I praise this law and will and opinion of yours, and most vehemently approve. Then I urge you to remain in your opinion, with the Roman people as authority, and not to fear any man’s force or threats. First in you I think there is enough of spirit and perseverance. Then, when we see so great a multitude with such great zeal at hand, as we now see again in setting in command this same man, what is there that we should doubt either of the matter or of the means of finishing? But I — whatever zeal, counsel, labour, talent is in me; whatever I can do by this kindness of the Roman people and by this praetorian power; whatever by authority, faith, constancy — all that for finishing this matter to you and to the Roman people I promise and offer; and I call to witness all the gods,

and most those who preside over this place and temple, who most see through the minds of all those who come up to the commonwealth: that I am doing this neither at any man’s request, nor that I think Gnaeus Pompeius’s favour can be won for me through this case, nor that I should seek out of any man’s amplitude either protection in perils or help to honours. Because perils, easily (as it is fitting that a man should answer for) we shall, defended by innocence, drive off; honour, however, neither from one man nor from this place, but by that same our most laborious method of life, if your will shall bear it, we shall attain.

Wherefore, whatever in this case has been undertaken by me, citizens, all of it I confirm I have undertaken for the commonwealth’s sake. So far am I from seeming to have sought for myself any favour, that I see I have taken on many enmities — some hidden, some open — not necessary for me, but not unprofitable to you. But I have judged, citizens, that I, endowed with this honour, afflicted with such great kindnesses of yours, ought to set your will and the dignity of the commonwealth and the safety of the provinces and allies before all my own advantages and reckonings.