 The eleventh oration of Marcus Tullius Cicero against Marcus Antonius, called also the Eleventh Philippic. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Eleventh Philippic. The Argument. A short time after the delivery of the preceding speech, news came to Rome of Dolabela, the colleague of Antonius, having been very successful in Asia. He had left Rome before the expiration of his consulship to take possession of Syria, which Antonius had contrived to have allotted him, and he hoped to prevail on the inhabitants of the province of Asia also to abandon Trebonius, who had been one of the slayers of Caesar and was governor of Asia, and submit to him. Trebonius was residing in Smyrna and Dolabela arriving before the walls of that town with very few troops, requesting a free passage through Trebonius's province. Trebonius refused to admit him into the town, but promised that he would permit him to enter Ephesus. Dolabela, however, affected an entry into Smyrna by a nocturnal surprise, and seized Trebonius, whom he murdered with great cruelty. As soon as the news of this event reached Rome, the consul summoned the senate, which at once declared Dolabela a public enemy, and confiscated his estate. Calenus was the mover of this decree, but besides this motion there was another question to be settled, namely, who was to be appointed to conduct the war against Dolabela? Some proposed to send Publius Sevilius, others that the two consuls should be sent, and should have the two provinces of Asia and Syria allotted to them, and this last proposition Panza himself was favorable to, and it was supported not only by his friends, but also by the partisans of Antonius, who thought it would draw off the consuls from their present business of relieving Decimus Brutus. But Cicero thought that it would be an insult to Cassius, who was already in those countries to supersede him, as it were, by sending anyone else to command there, and so he exerted all his influence to procure a decree entrusting the command to him, though Sevilia, the mother-in-law of Cassius, and other of Cassius's friends, begged him not to disoblige Panza. He persevered, however, and made the following speech in support of his opinion. It appears that Cicero failed in his proposition through the influence of Panza, but before any orders came from Rome, Cassius had defeated Dolabela near Laudicea, and he killed himself to avoid falling into the hands of his conqueror. Amid the great grief, O conscript fathers, or rather misery, which we have suffered at the cruel and melancholy death of Gaius Trebonius, a most virtuous citizen and a most moderate man, there is still a circumstance or two in the case, which I think will turn out beneficial to the Republic. For we have now thoroughly seen what great barbarity these men are capable of, who have taken up wicked arms against their country. For these two, Dolabela and Antonius, are the very blackest and foulest monsters that have ever lived since the birth of man, one of whom has now done what he wished, as to the other it has been plainly shown what he intended. Lucius Silla was cruel, Gaius Marius was unrelenting in his anger, Lucius Silla was fierce, but still the inhumanity of none of these men ever went beyond death, and that punishment indeed was thought too cruel to be inflicted on citizens. Here, now, you have a pair in wickedness, unprecedented, unheard of, savage, barbarous. Therefore, those men whose vehement mutual hatred and quarrel you recollect a short time ago have now been united in singular unanimity and mutual attachment by the singularity of their wicked natures and most infamous lives. Therefore, that which Dolabela has now done in a case in which he had the power, Antonius threatens many with. But the former, as he was a long way from our consuls and armies, as he was not yet aware that the Senate had united with the Roman people, relying on the forces of Antonius, has committed those wicked actions which he thought were already put in practice at Rome by his accomplice in wickedness. What else then do you think that this man is contriving or wishing? Or what other object do you think he has in war? All of us who have either entertained the thoughts of freedmen concerning the Republic, or have given utterance to opinions worthy of ourselves, he decides to be not merely opposed to him, but actual enemies. And he plans inflicting bitterer punishments on us than on the enemy. He thinks death a punishment imposed by nature, but torments and tortures the proper inflections of anger. What sort of enemy then must we consider that man who, if he will be victorious, requires one to think death a kindness if he spares one the tortures with which it is in his power to accompany it? Wherefore, O Conscript Fathers, although you do not need anyone to exhort you, for you yourself have of your own accord warmed up with the desire of recovering your freedom. Still defend, I warn you, your freedom with so much zeal and courage in proportion as the punishments of slavery with which you see the conqueror threatened are more terrible. Antonius has invaded Gaul, Dolabela, Asia, each a province with which he had no business whatever. Brutus has opposed himself to the one, and at the peril of his own life has checked the onset of that frantic man wishing to harass and plunder everything, has prevented his further progress and has cut him off from his return. By allowing himself to be besieged, he has hemmed in Antonius on each side. The other has forced his way into Asia. With what object? If it was merely to proceed into Syria, he had a road open to him which was sure and was not long. What was the need of sending forward some Marcian? They call him Octavius with a legiond, a wicked and necessitous robber, a man to lay waste the lands to harass the cities, not from any hope of acquiring any permanent property, which they who know him say he is unable to keep, for I have not the honor of being acquainted with his senator myself, but just his present food to satisfy his indigence. Dolabela followed him without anyone having any suspicion of war. For how could anyone think of such a thing? Very friendly conferences with Trebonius ensued, in braces, false tokens of the greatest good will, were there full of simulated affection. The pledge of the right hand, which used to be a witness of good faith, was violated by treachery and wickedness. Then came the nocturnal entry into Smyrna, as if it were into an enemy city. Smyrna, which is the city of our most faithful and most ancient allies. Then the surprise of Trebonius, who, if he were surprised by one who was an open enemy, was very careless. If by one, who up to that moment maintained the appearance of a citizen, was miserable. And by his example, Fortune wished us to take a lesson of what the conquered party had to fear. He handed over a man of consular rank, governing the province of Asia with consular authority, to an exiled armorer. He would not slay him the moment he had taken him, fearing, I suppose, that his victory might appear too merciful. But after having attacked that most excellent man with insulting words from his impious mouth, then he examined him with scourges and tortures concerning the public money, and that for two days together. Afterwards he cut off his head, and ordered it to be fixed on a javelin and carried about, and the rest of his body, having been dragged through the street and town, he threw into the sea. We then have to war against this enemy, by whose most foul cruelty all the savageness of barbarous nations is surpassed. Why need I speak of the massacre of Roman citizens, or the plunder of temples? Who is there who can possibly deplore such circumstances as their atrocity deserves? And now he is ranging all over Asia, and he is triumphing about as a king. He thinks that we are occupied in another quarter by another war, as if it were not the one in the same war against this outrageous pair of impious men. You see now an image of the cruelty of Marcus Antonius in Dolabella. This conduct of his is formed on the model of the other. It is by him that the lessons of wickedness have been taught to Dolabella. Do you think that Antonius, if he had the power, would be more merciful in Italy than Dolabella has proved in Asia? To me, indeed, this latter appears to have gone as far as the insanity of a savage man could go. Nor do I believe that Antonius would omit any description of punishment if he had only the power to inflict it. Place then before your eyes, O conscript fathers, that's spectacle, miserable indeed and tearful, but still indispensable to rouse your minds properly. The nocturnal attack upon the most beautiful city in Asia, the eruption of our men into Trebonius's house, when that unhappy man saw the swords of the robbers before he had heard what was the matter, the entrance of Dolabella, raging, his ill-oamened voice and his infamous countenance, the chains, the scourges, the rack, the armorer, who was both torturer and executioner, all of which they say that the unhappy Trebonius endured with great fortitude. A great praise and, in my opinion, indeed the greatest of all, for it is the part of a wise man to resolve beforehand that whatever can happen to a brave man is to be endured with patience if it should happen. If it is indeed a proof of altogether greater wisdom to act with such foresight as to prevent anything from happening, but it is a token of no less courage to bear it bravely if it should be fallen. And Dolabella was indeed so wholly forgetful of the claims of humanity, although indeed he never had any particular recollection of it as to vent his unsatiable cruelty not only on the living man, but also on the dead carcass, and as he could not sufficiently glut his hatred to feed his eyes also on the lacerations inflicted and the insults offered to his corpse. O Dolabella! Much more wretched than he whom you intended to be the most wretched of all men. Trebonius endured great agonies. Many men have endured greater still from severe disease, whom, however, we are in the habit of calling not miserable, but afflicted. His sufferings which lasted two days were long, but many men have had sufferings lasting many years, nor are the tortures inflicted by executioners more terrible than those caused by disease are sometimes. There are other tortures, others I tell you, O you most abandoned and insane man, which are far more miserable, for in proportion, as the vigor of the mind exceeds that of the body, so also are the sufferings of the wrack, so also are the sufferings which wrack the mind more terrible than those which are endured by the body. He therefore, who commits a wicked action, is more wretched than he who is compelled to endure the wickedness of another. Trebonius was tortured by Dolabella, and so indeed, regalus by the Carthaginians. If, on that account, the Carthaginians were considered very cruel for such behavior to an enemy, what must we think of Dolabella, who treated a citizen in such a manner? Is there any comparison, or can we doubt, which of the two is the most miserable? He whose death the senate and Roman people wish to avenge, or he who was adjudged an enemy by the unanimous vote of the senate? For in every other particular of their lives, who could possibly, without the greatest insult to Trebonius, compare the life of Trebonius with that of Dolabella? Who is ignorant of the wisdom and genius and humanity and innocence of the one, and of his greatness of mind is displayed in his exertions for the freedom of his country? The other, from his very childhood, has taken delight in cruelty, and, moreover, such has been the shameful nature of his lusts, that he is always delighted in the very fact of doing those things which he could not even be reproached with by a modest enemy. In this man, oh ye immortal gods, was once my relation, for his vices were unknown to me who did not inquire into such things, nor perhaps should I now be alienated from him if he had not discovered to be the enemy to you, to the walls of his country, to this city, to our household gods, to the altars and hearths of all of us, in short, to human nature and to common humanity. But now, having received this lesson from him, let us be more diligent and vigilant in being on our guard against Antonius. Indeed, Dolabella had not with him any great number of notorious and conspicuous robbers, but you see there are with Antonius and in what numbers? In the first place there is his brother Lucius, what a firebrand, oh ye immortal gods, what an incarnation of crime and wickedness, what a gulf, what a whirlpool of a man. What do you think that man incapable of swallowing up in his mind or gulping down in his thoughts? Who do you imagine there is whose blood he is not thirsting for? Who, on whose possessions and fortunes, he is not fixing his most imprudent eyes, his hopes and his whole heart? What shall we say of Sensorius? Who, as far as words go, said indeed that he wished to be the city praetor, but who in fact was unwilling to be so? What of Bestia, who professes that he is a candidate for the consulship in the place of Brutus, may Jupiter avert from us this most detestable omen? But how absurd is it for a man to stand for the consulship who cannot be elected praetor, unless indeed he thinks that his conviction may be taken as an equivalent to the praetorship? Let this second Caesar, this great Vopiscus, a man of consummate genius of the highest influence, who seeks the consulship immediately after having been edile, be excused from obedience to the laws. Although indeed the laws do not bind him on account, I suppose, of his exceeding dignity. But this man has been acquitted five times when I defended him. To win a sixth city victory is difficult, even in the case of a gladiator. However, this is the fault of the judges, not mine. I defended him with perfect good faith. They were bound to retain a most illustrious and excellent citizen in the Republic, who now, however, appears to have no other object, except to make us understand that those men whose judicial decisions we annulled, decided rightly and in a manner advantageous to the Republic. Nor is this the case with respect to this man alone. There are other men in the same camp, honestly condemned and shamefully restored. What council do you imagine can be adopted by those men who are the enemies to all good men, that is not utterly cruel? There is, beside a fellow, called Saxa. I did not know who he is, some man whom Caesar imported from the extremity of Celtiberia, and gave us for a tribune of the people. Before that, he was a measurer of ground for camps. Now he hopes to measure out and value the city. May the evils, which this foreigner predicts to us, fall on his own head, and may we escape in safety. With him is the veteran Caffo. Nor is there a man whom the veteran troops hate more cordially. To these men, as if in addition to the dowry which they had received during our civil disasters, Antonius had given the Campanian district. They might have it as a sort of nurse for their other estates. I only wish that they would be contented with them. We would bear it then, though it would not be what ought to be born, but still it would be worth our while to bear anything, as long as we could escape this most shameful war. What more? Have you not before your eyes these ornaments of the camp of Marcus Antonius? In the first place, those two colleagues of the Antonii and Dolabella. Nicola and Lento, the dividers of all Italy according to that law which the Senate pronounced to have been earned by violence. One of whom had been the writer of farces, and the other an actor of tragedies. Why should I speak of Domitius the Apulean, whose property we have lately seen advertised, so great as the carelessness of his agents? But this man, lately, was not content with giving poison to his sister's son. He actually drenched him with it. But it is impossible for these men to live in any other than a prodigal manner, who hope for our property while they are squandering their own. I have seen also an auction of the property of Publius Decius, an illustrious man who, following the example of his ancestors, devoted himself for the deaths of another. But at that auction no one was found to be a purchaser. Ridiculous men to think it possible to escape from debt by selling other people's property. For why should I speak of Trebellius, on whom the furies of debts seem to have wrecked their vengeance? For we have seen one table avenging another. Why should I speak of Plancus, whom that most illustrious citizen Aquila had driven from Polentia, and that too with a broken leg? And I wish he had met with that accident earlier, as not to be liable to return hither. I had almost passed over the light and glory of that army, Gaius Anius Simber, the son of Lysidicus, a Lysidicus himself in the Greek meaning of the word, since he had broken all laws, unless perhaps it is natural for a Cambrian to slay a German. When Antonius has such numbers with him, and these two men of that sort, what crime will he shrink from when Dolabela has polluted himself with such atrocious murders without at all an equal troop of robbers to support him? Wherefore, as I have often at other times differed against my will from Quintus Fufius, so on this occasion I gladly agree with his proposition, and from this you may see that my differences is not with the man, but with the cause which he sometimes advocates. Therefore, at present, I not only agree with Quintus Fufius, but I even return thanks to him, for he has given utterances to opinions which are upright and dignified and worthy of the Republic. He has pronounced Dolabela a public enemy. He has declared his opinion that his property ought to be confiscated by public authority. And though nothing more could be added to this, for indeed, what could he propose more severe or more pitiless? Nevertheless, he said that if any of those men who were asked their opinion after him proposed any more severe sentence, he would vote for it. Who can avoid praising such severity as this? Now, since Dolabela has been pronounced a public enemy, he must be pursued by war, for he himself will not remain quiet. He has a legion with him. He has troops of runaway slaves. He has a wicked band of impious men. He himself is confident, intemperate, and bent on falling on the death of a gladiator. Therefore, since as Dolabela was voted an enemy by the decree which was passed yesterday, war must be waged. We must necessarily appoint a general. Two opinions have been advanced, neither of which do I approve. The one, because I always think it dangerous unless it absolutely necessary. The other, because I think it wholly unsuited to the emergency. For an extraordinary commission is a measure suited, rather, to the fickle character of the mob, one which does not at all become our dignity or this assembly. In the war against Antiochus, a great and important war, when Asia had fallen by lot to Lucius Scipio as his province, and when he was thought to have hardly spirit and hardly vigor enough for it, and when the senate was inclined to entrust the business to his colleague Gaius Lilius, the father of this Lilius who was surnamed the wise, Publius africanus, the older brother of Lucius Scipio, rose up and entreated them not to cast such a slur on his family, and said that in his brother there was, united, the greatest possible valor with the most consummate prudence, and that he too, notwithstanding his age and all the exploits which he had performed, would attend his brother as his lieutenant. And after he had said this nothing was changed in respect to Scipio's province, nor was any extraordinary command sought for any more in that war than in those two terrible Punic wars which had preceded it, which were carried on and conducted to that termination either by the consuls or by dictators, or then in the war with Pyrus, or in that with Philippus, or afterwards in the Achaean war, or in the third Punic war, for which last the Roman people took great care to select a suitable general, Publius Scipio, but at the same time it appointed him to the consulship in order to conduct it. War was to be waged with Aristonicus in the consulship of Publius Lucinius and Lucius Valerius. The people was consulted as to whom it wished to have the management of that war. Crassus the consul and Pontavix Maximus threatened to impose a fine upon Flaccus, his colleague, the priest of Mars, if he deserted the sacrifices, and though the people remitted the fine, still they ordered the priests to submit to the commands of the pontiff. But even then the Roman people did not commit the management of the war to a private individual, although there was Africanus, who the year before had celebrated a triumph over the people of Numantia, and who was far superior to all men in martial renown and military skill. Yet he only gained the votes of two tribunes, and accordingly the Roman people entrusted the management of the war to Crassus the consul, rather than to the private individual, Africanus. As to the commands given to Neus Pompeius, that most illustrious man, that first of men, they were carried by some turbulent tribunes of the people. For the war against Sertorius was only given by the senate to a private individual because the consuls refused it, when Lucius Philippus said that he sent the general in place of two consuls, not as pro-consul. What then is the object of these comitia, or what is the meaning of this canvassing, which that most wise and dignified citizen Lucius Caesar has introduced into the senate? He has proposed to vote a military command to one who was certainly a most illustrious and unimpeachable man, but still only a private individual, and by doing so he has imposed a heavy burden upon us. Suppose I agree, shall I by doing so countenance the introduction of the practice of canvassing into the senate house? Suppose I vote against it, shall I appear as if I were in the comitia to have refused an honor to a man who is one of my greatest friends? But if we are to have the comitia in the senate, let us ask for the votes. Let us canvass, let a voting tablet be given us, just as one is given to the people. Why do you, O Caesar, allow it to be so managed that either a most illustrious man, if your proposition be not agreed to, shall appear to have received a repulse, or else that one of us shall appear to have been passed over, if, while we are men of equal dignity, we are not considered worthy of equal honor? But, for this is what I hear is said, I myself gave, by my own vote, an extraordinary commission to Gaius Caesar. I indeed, if for he had given me extraordinary protection, when I say me, I mean he had given it to the senate and to the Roman people, was I to refuse giving an extraordinary military command to that man from whom the republic had received protection, which had never been even thought of, but that still was of so much consequence that without it she could not have been safe. There were only the alternatives of taking his army from him or giving him such a command, for on what principle, or by what means, can an army be retained by a man who has not been invested with any military command? We must not, therefore, think that a thing has been given a man which has, in fact, not been taken away from him. You would, O conscript fathers, have taken a command away from Gaius Caesar, if you had not given him one. The veteran soldiers, who, following his authority and command and name, had taken up arms in the cause of the republic, desiring to be commanded by him. The Martial Legion and the Fourth Legion had submitted to the authority of the senate, and had devoted themselves to uphold the dignity of the republic, in such a way as to feel that they had the right to demand Gaius Caesar for their commander. It was the necessity of the war that invested Gaius Caesar with military command. The senate only gave him the ensigns of it. But I beg you to tell me, O Lucius Caesar, I am aware that I am arguing with a man of the greatest experience. When did the senate ever confer a military command on a private individual who was in a state of inactivity and doing nothing? However, I have been speaking hitherto to avoid the appearance of gratuitously opposing a man who has a great friend of mine, and who has shown me great kindness, although can one deny a thing to a person who not only does not ask for it, but who even refuses it? But, O conscript fathers, that proposition is unsuited to the dignity of the consuls, unsuited to the critical character of the times, namely the proposition that the consuls, for the sake of pursuing Dolabela, shall have the provinces of Asia and Syria allotted to them. I will explain why it is inexpedient for the republic, but first of all consider what ignominy it fixes on the consuls. When a consul-elect is still besieged, when the safety of the republic depends upon his liberation, when mischievous and parasital citizens have revolted from the republic, and when we are carrying on a war in which we are fighting for our dignity, for our freedom, and for our lives, and when, if anyone falls into the power of Antonius, tortures and torments are prepared for him, and when the struggle for all these objects have been committed and entrusted to our most admirable and gallant consuls, shall any mention be made of Asia and Syria, so that we may appear to have given any injurious cause for others to entertain suspicion of us, or to bring us into unpopularity. They do indeed propose it, after having liberated Brutus. For these were the last words of the proposal, say rather, after having deserted, abandoned, and betrayed him. But I say that any mention, whatever of any provinces, has been made at a most unseasonable time. For although your mind, O Gaius Panza, be ever so intent, and indeed it is, on affecting the liberation of a most true and illustrious of all men, still the nature of things would compel you inevitably sometimes to turn your thoughts to the idea of pursuing Antonius, and to divert some portion of your care and attention to Asia and Syria. But if it were possible, I could wish you to have more minds than one, and yet to direct them all upon Mutina. But since that is impossible, I do wish you, with that most virtuous and accomplished mind which you have got, to think of nothing but of Brutus. And that indeed is what you are doing. That is what you are especially striving at. But still no man can, I will not say do two things, especially two most important things, at one time, but he cannot even do entire justice to both of them in his thoughts. It is our duty rather to spur on and inflame that excellent eagerness of yours, and not to transfer any portion of it to any other object in care of a different direction. Add to these considerations the way men talk, the way in which they nourish suspicion, the way in which they take dislikes. Imitate me, whom you have always praised, for I rejected a province fully appointed and provided by the Senate, for the purpose of discarding all other thoughts and devoting all my efforts to extinguishing the conflagration that threatened to consume my country. There was no one except me alone, to whom indeed you would, in consideration of our intimacy, have been sure to communicate anything which concerned your interests. Who would believe that the province had been decreed to you against your will? I entreat you, check, as it is due to your eminent wisdom, this report, and do not seem to be desirous of that which you do not in reality care about. And you should take the most care of this point, because your colleague, a most illustrious man, cannot fall under the same suspicion. He knows nothing at all of what is going on here. He suspects nothing. He is conducting the war. He is standing in battle array. He is fighting for his blood and for his life. He will hear of the province being decreed to him before he could imagine that there had been time for such a proceeding. I am afraid that our armies, too, which have devoted themselves to the Republic, not from any compulsory levy, but of their own voluntary zeal, will be checked in their ardor, if they suppose that we are thinking of anything but instant war. But if provinces appear to the Councils as things to be desired, as they have often been desired by many illustrious men, first restore us Brutus, the light and glory of the State, whom we ought to preserve like that statue which fell from Heaven and is guarded by the protection of Vesta, which, as long as it is safe, ensures our safety also. When we will raise you, if it is possible, even to Heaven on our shoulders, unquestionably we will select for you the most worthy provinces. But at present let us apply ourselves to the business before us, and the question is whether we will live as free men or die, for death is certainly to be preferred to slavery. What more need I say? Suppose that proposition causes delay in the pursuit of Dolabela, for when will the Council arrive? Are we waiting till there is not even a vestige of the towns and cities of Asia left? But they will send some one of their officers. That will certainly be a step which I shall quite approve of, I who just now objected to giving any extraordinary military command to even so illustrious a man if he were only a private individual. But they will send a man worthy of such a charge. Will they send one more worthy than Publius Servilius? But the city has not such a man. What then he himself thinks ought to be given to no one, not even by the Senate, can I approve of that being conferred by the decision of one man? We have need, O Conscript Fathers, of a man prepared and ready, and of one who has a military command legally conferred on him, and one who, besides this, has authority and a name and an army, and a courage which has been already tried in his exertions for the deliverance of the Republic. Who then is this man? Either Marcus Brutus or Gaius Cassius, or both of them. I would vote in plain words, as there were many precedents for, one consul or both, if we had not already hampered Brutus sufficiently in Greece, if we had not preferred having his reinforcement approach nearer to Italy, rather than move farther off towards Asia, not so much in order to receive Sukar ourselves from that army, as to enable that army to receive aid across the water. Besides, O Conscript Fathers, even now Gaius Antonius is detaining Marcus Brutus, for he occupies Apollonia, a large and important city. He occupies, as I believe, Bylus. He occupies Amantia. He is threatening Apyrus. He is pressing on Illyricum. He has with him several cohorts, and he has cavalry. If Brutus be transferred from this district to any other war, we shall, at any events, lose Greece. We must also provide for the safety of Brundizium and all that coast of Italy. Although I marvel that Antonius delays so long, for he is accustomed, usually, to put on his marching dress, and to not endure the sphere of a siege for any length of time. But if Brutus is finished that business, and perceives that he can better serve the Republic by pursuing Dolabella than by remaining in Greece, he will act of his own head, as he is hitherto done, nor amid such a general conflagration will he wait for the orders of the Senate, when instant help is required. For both Brutus and Cassius have in many instances been a Senate to themselves, for it is quite inevitable that in such a confusion and disturbance of all things men should be guided by the present emergency, rather than by precedent. Nor will this be the first time that either Brutus or Cassius has considered the safety and deliverance of his country, his most holy law, and his most excellent precedent. Therefore, if there be no motion submitted to us about the pursuit of Dolabella, still I should consider it equivalent to a decree, when there are men of such character for virtue, authority, and the greatest nobleness possessing armies, one of which is already known to us, and the other has been abundantly heard of. Brutus, then, you may be sure, has not waited for our decrees, as he was sure of our desires, for he has not gone to his own province of Crete, he has flown to Macedonia, which belonged to another, he has accounted everything his own which you wish to be yours, he has enlisted new legions, he has received old ones, he has gained over to his own standard the cavalry of Dolabella, and even before that man was polluted with such enormous parasite, he, of his own head, pronounced him his enemy. For if he were not one, by what right could he himself have tempted the cavalry to abandon the consul? What more need I say? Did not Gaius Cassius, a man endowed with equal greatness of mind, and with equal wisdom, depart from Italy with the deliberate object of preventing Dolabella from obtaining possession of Syria? By what law? By what right? By that which Jupiter himself has sanctioned, that everything which was advantageous to the republic should be considered legal and just. For law is nothing but a correct principle drawn from the inspiration of the gods, commanding what is honest and forbidding the contrary. Cassius therefore obeyed this law when he went into Syria, a province which belonged to another, if man were able to abide by written laws, but which, when these were trampled under foot, was his law of nature. But in order that they may be sanctioned by your authority also, I now give my vote that As Publius Dolabella, and those who have been ministers of, and accomplices, and assistants of his cruel and infamous crime, have been pronounced enemies of the Roman people by the senate. And as the senate has voted that Publius Dolabella shall be pursued with war, in order that he has violated all laws of man and gods by a new and unheard of and inexpeable wickedness, and has committed the most infamous treason against his country, may suffer the punishment which is his due, in which he is well deserved at the hands of gods and men. The senate decrees that Gaius Cassius, proconsul, shall have the government as Syria, as one appointed to that province with all due form, and that he shall receive their armies from Quintius, Marcus, Crispus, proconsul, from Luteus, Statius, Murcus, proconsul, from Aulis, Allianus, Lieutenant, and that they shall deliver them up to him, and that he, with those troops and with any more that he may have got from other quarters, will be able to shall pursue Dolabella with war, both by sea and land. That, for the sake of carrying on war, he shall have authority and power to buy ships and sailors, and money, and whatever else may be necessary or useful for carrying on of the war, in whatever places it seems fitting for him to do so, throughout Syria, Asia, Bithynia, and Pontus. And that, in whatever province he shall arrive for the purpose of carrying on that war, and that province as soon as Gaius Cassius, proconsul, shall arrive in it. The power of Gaius Cassius, proconsul, shall be superior to that of whom may be in regular government of the province at that time. That king, Deitorius, the father, and also king Deitorius the son, if they assist Gaius Cassius, proconsul, with their armies and treasures, as they have here to fore often assisted the generals of the Roman people, will do a thing which will be grateful to the senate and people of Rome. And that also, if the rest of the kings and tetrarchs and governors in those districts do the same, the senate and people of Rome will not be forgetful of their loyalty and kindness. In that Gaius Ponsa and Aulus Herschis, the consuls, won, or both of them, as it seems good to them, and as soon as they have reestablished the republic, shall at the earliest opportunity submit a motion to this order about the consular and praetorian provinces. And that, in the meantime, the provinces should continue to be governed by those officers by whom they are governed at present, until a successor should be appointed to each by a resolution of the senate. By this resolution of the senate, you will inflame the existing ardor of Cassius, and you will give him additional arms, and you cannot be ignorant of his disposition or of the resources which he has at present. His disposition is such as you see. His resources, which you have heard stated to you, are those of a gallant and resolute man, who, even while Trebonius was alive, would not permit the peretical crew of Dolabella to penetrate into Syria. Alienus, my intimate friend in connection, who went thither after the death of Trebonius, will not permit himself to be called the lieutenant of Dolabella. The army of Quintus Caekilius Basus, a man, indeed, without any regular appointment, but a brave and eminent man, is vigorous and victorious. The army of Deotarius, the king, both father and son, is very numerous and equipped in our fashion. Moreover, in the sun there is the greatest hope, and the greatest vigor of genius and good disposition, and the most eminent valor. Why need I speak of the father, whose good will towards the Roman people is co-evil with his life, who has not only been the ally of our commanders in their wars, but has served himself as the general of his own troops. What great things have Sulla and Morena, and Servilius and Lucullus, said of that man. What complimentary, what honorable and dignified mention have they often made of him in the senate? Why should I speak of Neus Pompeius, who considered Deotarius the only friend and real well-wisher from his own heart, the only really loyal man to the Roman people in the whole world? We were generals, Marcus Bubulus and I, in neighboring provinces bordering on his kingdom, and we were assisted by that same monarch, both with cavalry and infantry. Then followed this most miserable and disastrous civil war, in which I need not say what Deotarius ought to have done, or what would have been the most proper course which he could have adopted, especially his victory, decided for the party opposed to the wishes of Deotarius. And if in that war he committed any error, he did so in common with the senate. If his judgment was the right one, then even though defeated it does not deserve to be blamed. To these resources other kings and other levies of troops will be added, nor will fleets be wanting to us. So greatly do the Tyrians esteem Cassius, so mighty is his name in Syria and Phoenicia. The Republic, O Conscript Fathers, has a general ready against Dolabela in Gaius Cassius, and not ready only, but also skillful and brave. He performed great exploits before their arrival of Bibulus, a most illustrious man when he defeated the most eminent generals of the Parthians and their innumerable armies, and delivered Syria from their most formidable invasion. I pass over his greatest and most extraordinary glory, for the mention of it is not yet acceptable to everyone. We had better preserve it in our own recollection than by bearing testimony of it with our voice. I have noticed, O Conscript Fathers, that some people have said before now that even Brutus is too much extolled by me, that Cassius is too much extolled, that by this proposition of mine absolute power and quite a principality is conferred upon Cassius. Whom do I extoll, those who are themselves the glory of the Republic? What, have I not at all times extolled Decimus Brutus whenever I have delivered my opinion at all? Do you then find fault with me? Or shall I rather praise the Antonii, the disgrace and infamy not only of their families but of the Roman name? Or shall I speak in favor of censoriness, an enemy in time of war, an assassin in time of peace? Or should I collect all the other ruined men of that band of robbers? But I am so far from extolling those enemies of tranquility, of concord, of the laws, of the courts of justice, of liberty, that I cannot avoid hating them as much as I love the Republic. Beware, says one, how you offend the veterans. For this is what I am constantly told, but I certainly ought to protect the rights of the veterans, of those at least who are well-disposed, but surely I ought not to fear them, and those veterans who have taken up arms in the cause of the Republic, and have followed Gaius Caesar, remembering the kindnesses which they received from his father, and who at this day are defending the Republic at their own great personal danger, those I ought not only to defend but to seek to procure additional advantages for them. But those also who remain quiet, such as the Sixth and Eighth Legion, I consider worthy of great glory and praise. But as for those companions of Antonius, and who after they have devoured the benefits of Caesar, besieged the consul-elect, threaten this city with fire and sword, and have given themselves up to Saxa and Caffo, men born for crime and plunder, who is there who thinks that these men ought to be defended? Therefore the veterans are either good men whom we ought to load with distinctions, or quiet men whom we ought to preserve, or impious ones against whose frenzy we have declared war and taken up legitimate arms. Who then are the veterans whom we are to be fearful of offending? Those who are desirous to deliver decimus brutus from siege? For how can those men, to whom the safety of brutus is dear, hate the name of Cassius? Or those men who abstain from taking arms on either side? I have no fear of any of those men who delight in tranquility becoming a mischievous citizen. But as for the Third Class, whom I call not veteran soldiers but infamous enemies, I wish to inflict on them the most bitter pain. Although, O Conscript Fathers, how long are we to deliver our opinions as it may please the veterans? Why are we to yield so much to their haughtiness? Why are we to make their arrogance of such importance as to choose our generals with reference to their pleasure? But I, for I must speak, O Conscript Fathers, what I feel. Think that we ought not so much to regard the veterans as to look at what the young soldiers, the flower of Italy, and what the new legions, most eager to affect the deliverance of their country, and what all Italy will think of your wisdom. For there is nothing which flourishes forever. Age succeeds age. The legions of Caesar have flourished for a long time. Now those who are flourishing are the legions of Ponsa, and the legions of Herschus, and the legions of the son of Caesar, and the legions of Plankus. They surpass the veterans in number. They have the advantage of youth. Moreover, they surpass them also in authority, for they are engaged in waging that war which is approved of by all nations. Therefore rewards have been promised to these latter. To the former, they have already been paid. Let them enjoy them, but let these other have those rewards given to them which we have promised them. For that is what I hope that the immortal gods will consider just. And, as this is the case, I give my vote for the proposition which I have made to you, O Conscript Fathers, being adopted by you. And, of the 11th oration of Marcus Tullius Cicero against Marcus Antonius, called also the 11th Philippic. The 12th oration of Marcus Tullius Cicero against Marcus Antonius, called also the 12th Philippic. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The 12th Philippic. The argument. Decimus Brutus was in such distress in Mutina that his friends began to be alarmed, fearing that if he fell into the hands of Antonius, he would be treated as Trebonius had been. And, as the friends of Antonius gave out that he was now more inclined to come to terms with the senate, a proposition was made and supported by Ponsa to send a second embassy to him. And even Cicero, at first, consented to it and allowed himself to be nominated with Sevilius and three other senators, all of consular rank. But on more mature reflection he was convinced that he had been guilty of a blunder and that the object of Antonius and his friends was only to gain time for Vintidius to join him with his three legions. Accordingly, at the next meeting of the senate he delivered the following speech, retracting his former sanction of the proposed embassy. And he spoke so strongly against it that the measure was abandoned, and Ponsa soon afterwards marched with his army to join Herschis and Octavius with the intention of forcing Antonius to a battle. Although, O conscript fathers, it seems very unbecoming for that man whose counsels you have so often adopted in the most important of affairs to be deceived and deluded and to commit mistakes, yet I console myself since I made the mistake in company with you and in company also with the consul of the greatest wisdom. For when two men of consular rank had brought us hope of an honorable peace, they appeared as being friends and extremely intimate with Marcus Antonius to be aware of some weak point about him with which we were unacquainted. His wife and children are in the house of one. The other is known every day to send letters to and to receive letters from and openly to favor Antonius. These men then appeared likely to have some reason for exhorting us to peace, which they had done for some time. The consul, too, added the weight of his exhortation. And what a consul! If we look for prudence, one who was not easily to be deceived, if for virtue and courage, one who would never admit of peace unless Antonius submitted and confessed himself to be vanquished, if for greatness of mine, one who would prefer death to slavery. You, too, O conscript fathers, appeared to be induced to think not of accepting but of imposing conditions, not so much because you were forgetful of your most important and dignified resolutions as because you had hopes suggested you of a surrender on the part of Antonius, which his friends preferred to call peace. My own hopes, and I imagine yours also, were increased by the circumstance of my hearing that the family of Antonius was overwhelmed with distress and that his wife was incessantly lamenting. In this assembly, too, I saw that the partisans on whose countenance my eyes are always dwelling looked more sorrowful than usual. And if this is not so, why on a sudden has mentioned been made of peace by Piso and Calenus of all people in the world? Why at this particular moment, why so unexpectedly? Piso declares that he knows nothing, that he has not heard anything. Calenus declares that no news has been brought and they make that statement now, after they think we are involved in a Pacific Embassy. What need have we, then, of any new determination if no new circumstances have arisen to call for one? We have been deceived, we have. I say, been deceived, O conscript fathers. It is the cause of Antonius that has been pleaded by his friends and not the cause of the public. I did indeed see that, though, through a sort of mist, the safety of Decimus Brutus had dazzled my eyesight. But, if in war substitutes were in the habit of being given, I would gladly allow myself to be hemmed in, so long as Decimus Brutus might be released. But we were caught by this expression of Quintus Fufius. Shall we not listen to Antonius, even if he retires from Mutina? Shall we not, even if he declares that he will submit himself to the authority of the Senate? It seemed harsh to say that. Thus it was, we were broken, we yielded. Does he then retire from Mutina? I don't know. Is he obeying the Senate? I think so, says Calanus. But, as to preserve his own dignity at the same time. You then, O conscript fathers, are to make great exertions for the express purpose of losing our own dignity, which is very great, and of preserving that of Antonius, which neither has nor can have any existence, and of enabling him to recover that by your conduct, that he is lost by his own. But, however, that matter is not open for consideration now, and Embassy has been appointed. But what is there which is not open for consideration to a wise man, as long as it can be remodeled? Any man is liable to a mistake. But no one but a downright fool will persist in error. For second thoughts, as people say, are best. The mist, which I spoke of, just now is dispelled. It has arisen. The case is plain. We see everything, and that not by our own acuteness, but we are warned by our friends. You heard just now, what was the statement made by a most admirable man? I found, said he, his house, his wife, his children, all in great distress. Good man marveled at me. My friends blamed me for having been led by the hope of peace to undertake an Embassy. I do not say of all dignity, but even every hope of safety. Who would not wonder if you were to go as an ambassador to him? I judge by my own case, for with regard to myself, I see how the same design as you conceived is found fault with. Are we the only people blamed? What? Did that most gallant man speak so long and so precise? I do not say of all dignity, but even every hope of safety. Who would not wonder if you were to go as an ambassador to him? Did that most gallant man speak so long and so precisely a little while ago, without any reason? What was he laboring for, except to remove from himself a groundless suspicion of treachery? And whence did that suspicion arise, from his unexpected advocacy of peace, which he adopted all of a sudden, being taken in by the same error that we were? But if an error has been committed, O conscript fathers, owing to a groundless and fallacious hope, let us return into the right road. The best harbor for a penitent is a change of intention. For what, in the name of the immortal gods, what good can our embassy do to the republic? What good do I say? What will you say if it will even do us harm? Will do us harm? What if it already has done us harm? Do you suppose that the most energetic and fearless desire shown by the Roman people for recovery of their liberty has been damped and weakened by hearing of this embassy for peace? What do you think the municipal towns feel and the colonies? What do you think will be the feelings of all Italy? Do you suppose that it will continue to glow with the same zeal with which it burnt before to extinguish this common conflagration? Do we not suppose that those men will repent of having professed and displayed so much hatred to Antonius, who promised us money and arms, who devoted themselves wholly, body, heart, and soul to the safety of the republic? How will Capua, which at the present time feels like a second Rome, approve of this design of yours? That city pronounced them in pious citizens, cast them out and kept them out. Antonius was barely saved from the hands of that city, which made a most gallant attempt to crush him. Need I say more? Are we not by these proceedings cutting the sinews of our own legions? For what man can engage with ardor in a war when the hope of peace is suggested to him? Even that godlike and divine Martial Legion will grow languid at and be cowed by the receipt of this news and will lose that most noble title of Martial. Their swords will fall to the ground, their weapons will drop from their hands. For, following the Senate, it will not consider itself bound to feel more bitter hatred against Antonius than the Senate. I am ashamed for this Legion. I am ashamed for the Fourth Legion, which, approving of our authority with equal virtue, abandoned Antonius, not looking upon him as their consul in general, but as an enemy and attacker of their country. I am ashamed for that admirable army which is made up of two armies, which has now been reviewed and which has started from Mutinah, and which, if it hears a word of peace, that is to say, of our fear, even if it does not return, will at all events halt. For who, when the Senate recalls him and sounds a retreat, will be eager to engage in battle? For what can be more unreasonable than for us to pass resolutions about peace without the knowledge of those men who wage war, and not only without the knowledge but even against their will? Do you think that Aulus Hershius, that most illustrious consul, and that Gaius Caesar, a man born by the special kindness of the gods for this special crisis, whose letters, announcing their hope of victory, I hold in my hand our desirous of peace? Leader, and still, we cannot bear the countenances or support the language of those men who are left behind in the world. I am ashamed for that. I am ashamed for that. I am ashamed for that. But what do we have in hand in the city out of their number? What do you think will be the result when such numbers force their way into the city at one time? When we have laid aside our arms and that they have not laid aside theirs. Must we not be defeated for everlasting in consequence of our own councils? Place before your eyes Marcus Antonius, as a man of consular rank, add to him Lucius, hoping to obtain the consulship. And those, too, not confined to our order, who are fixing, then, thoughts on honors and commands. Do not despise the Tyros and the Numisii, or the Musteli, or the Seii. A peace made with those men will not be peace, but a covenant of slavery. That was an admirable expression of Lucius Piso, a most honorable man, and one which has been deservedly praised by you, O panza, not only in this order, but also in the assembly of the people. He said that he would depart from Italy and leave his household gods and his native home, if, but might the gods advert such a disaster, Antonius overwhelmed the republic. I ask, therefore, of you, Lucius Piso, whether you would not think that republic overwhelmed if so many men of such impiety, of such audacity, of such guilt, were admitted into it. Do you think that men whom we could hardly bear when they were not yet polluted with such parasital treasons will be able to be borne by the city now that they are immersed in every sort of wickedness? Believe me, we must either adopt your plan and retire, depart, embrace a life of indigence and wandering, or else we must offer our throats to those robbers and perish in our country. What has become, O Gaius panza, of those noble exhortations of yours, by whom the senate was roused and the Roman people stimulated, not only hearing, but also learning from you, that there is nothing more disgraceful to a Roman than slavery? Was it for this that we assumed the garb of war and took arms and roused up all the youth all over Italy in order that while we had a most flourishing and numerous army, we might send ambassadors to treat for peace? If that peace is to be received by others, why do we not wait to be entreated for it? If our ambassadors are to beg it, what is it that we are afraid of? Shall I make one of this embassy, or shall I be mixed up with its design, in which, even if I should dissent from the rest of my colleagues, the Roman people will not know it? The result will be, that if anything be granted or conceded, it will be my danger if Antonius commits any offense, since the power to commit them will seem to have been put in his hands by me. But even if it had been proper to entertain any idea of peace with the paratical crew of Marcus Antonius, still I was the last person who ought to have been selected to negotiate such a peace. I never voted for sending ambassadors. Before the return of the last ambassadors I ventured to say that peace itself, even if they did bring it, ought to be repudiated, since war would be concealed under the name of peace. I was the chief advisor of the adoption of the garb of war. I have invariably called that man a public enemy, when others have been calling him only an adversary. I have always pronounced this to be war, while others have styled it only a tumult. Nor have I done this in the Senate alone. I have always acted in the same way before the people. Nor have I spoken against himself only, but also against the accomplices in and agents of his crimes, whether present here or there with him. In short I have been at all times invade against the whole family and party of Antonius. Therefore as those impious citizens began to congratulate one another the moment the hope of peace was presented to them as if they had gained the victory, so also they abused me as unjust. They made complaints against me. They distrusted Servilius also. They recollected that Antonius had been damaged by his avowed opinions and propositions. They recollected that Lucius Caesar, though a brave and consistent senator, is still his uncle. That Calenus is his agent. That Piso is his intimate friend. They think that you yourself, Opanza, though a most vigorous and fearless console, are now become more mercifully inclined. Not that it really is so, or that it possibly can be so. But the fact of a mention of peace having been made by you has given rise to a suspicion in the hearts of many that you have changed your mind a little. The friends of Antonius are annoyed at me being included among these persons, and we must, no doubt, yield to them since we have once begun to be liberal. Let the ambassadors go, with all our good wishes, but let those men go, at whom Antonius may take no offense. But if you are not anxious about what he may think at all events, O Conscript Fathers, you ought to have some regard for me, at least spare my eyes, and make some allowance for a just indignation. For with what countenance shall I be able to behold, I do not say the enemy of my country, for hatred of him on that score I feel in common with all of you. But how shall I be able to look upon that man who is my own most bitter personal enemy, as his most furious harangues against me plainly declare him? Do you think that I am so completely made of iron as to be able, unmoved to meet him, or to look at him? Who lately, when in an assembly of the people, he was making presents to those men who appeared to him the most audacious of his band of parasital traitors? Said that, he gave my property to Pesticius of Urbinum, a man, after the shipwreck of a very splendid patrimony, was dashed against those rocks of Antonius. Shall I be able to bear the sight of Lucius Antonius, a man from whose cruelty I could not have escaped if I had not defended myself behind the walls and gates, and by the zeal of my own municipal town? In this same Asiatic gladiator, this plunderer of Italy, this colleague of Lenti and Nucula, when he was given some pieces of gold to Aquila the Centurion, said that he was giving him some of my property. For, if he had said he was giving him some of his own, he thought that the eagle itself would not have believed it. My eyes cannot, my eyes I say will not bear the sight of Saxa, of Caffo, or the two praetors, or the tribune of the people, or the two tribunes-elect, or Bestia, or Tribulius, or Titus Plancus. I cannot look with equanimity on so many in those such foul, such wicked enemies, or is that feeling caused by any fastidiousness of mine, but by my affection for the Republic? But I will not subdue my feelings, and keep my own inclinations under restraint. If I cannot eradicate my most just indignation, I will conceal it. What? Do you not think, Oconscript Fathers, that I should have had some regard for my own life? But that indeed has never been an object of so much concern to me, especially since Dola Bella has acted in such a way that death is the desirable thing, provided it come without torments and tortures. But in your eyes, and in those of the Roman people, my life ought not to appear of no consequence, for I am a man, unless I am deceived in my estimate of myself, who by my vigilance and anxiety, by the opinions which I have delivered, and by the dangers too of which I have encountered great numbers, by reasons of the most bitter hatred which all impious men bear me, have at least, not to seem to say anything too boastful, conducted myself so as to be no injury to the Republic. And as this is the case, do you think that I ought to have no consideration for my own danger? Even here, when I was in this city, and at home, nevertheless, attempts were made against me, in a place where I have not only the fidelity of my friends, but the eyes also of the entire city to guard me. What do you think will be the case when I have gone on a journey, and that too a long one? Do you think I shall have no occasion to fear plots then? There are three roads to Mutuna, a place which my mind longs to see, in order that I may behold as speedily as possible, that pledge of freedom of the Roman people, Esimus Brutus, in whose embrace I would willingly yield up my parting breath, when all my actions for the last many months, and all my opinions and propositions have resulted in the end which I proposed myself. There are, as I have said, three roads, the Fulminian Road, along the Adriatic, the Aurelian Road, along the Mediterranean Coast, and the Midland Road, which is called the Cassian. Now take notice, I beg of you, whether my suspicions of danger to myself is at variance with a reasonable conjecture. The Cassian Road goes through Etruria. Do you not know then, O'Ponza, over what places the authority of Lenti Cassinius, as a September, prevails at present? He certainly is not on our side, either in mind or body. But if he is at home, or not far from home, he is certainly in Etruria, that is, in my road. Who then will undertake to me that Lenti will be content with exacting one life alone? Tell me besides, O'Ponza, where Vintidius is, a man to whom I have always been friendly before he became so openly an enemy to the Republic, and to all good men. I may avoid the Cassian Road, and take the Fulminian. What if, as it is said, Vintidius has arrived at Ancona? Shall I be able in that case to reach Arameum in safety? The Aurelian Road remains, and here too I shall find a protector. For on that road are the possessions of Publius Clodius. His whole household will come out to meet me, and will invite me to partake of their hospitality on account of my notorious intimacy with their master. Shall I then trust myself on those roads? I, who lately, on the day of the Feast of Terminus, did not dare even to go into the suburbs and to return by the same road on the same day. I can scarcely defend myself within the walls of my own house, without the protection of my friends. Therefore I remain in the city, and if I am allowed to do so, I will remain. This is my proper place. This is my beat. This is my post as a sentinel. This is my station as a defender of the city. Let others occupy camps and kingdoms and engage in the conduct of the war. Let us show the active hatred of the enemy. We, as we say, and as we have often hitherto done, will in common with you defend the city and affairs of the city. Nor do I shrink from this office, although I see the Roman people shrink from it for me. No one is less timid than I am, no one more cautious. The facts speak for themselves. This is the twentieth year that I have been a mark for the attempts of all wicked men. Therefore they have paid to the Republic, not to say to me, the penalty of their wickedness. As yet the Republic has preserved me in safety for itself. I am almost afraid to say what I am going to say, for I know that any accident may happen to a man. But still, when I was once hemmed in by the united force of many most influential men, I yielded voluntarily, and fell in such a manner as to be able to rise again in the most honorable manner. When I then, appear as cautious and as prudent as I ought to be, if I commit myself to a journey so full of enemies in dangers to me. Those men who are concerned in the government of the Republic ought, at their death, to leave behind them glory, and not reproaches for their fault, or grounds for belaming their folly. What good man is there who does not mourn for the death of Trebonius, who is there who does not grieve for the loss of such a citizen and such a man? But there are men who say, hastily indeed, but still, they do say so, that he deserves to be grieved for less because he did not take precautions against a desperately wicked man. In truth, a man who professes to be himself a defender of many men, wise men say, ought in the first place to show himself able to protect his own life. I say that when one is fenced around by the laws and by the fear of justice, a man is not bound to be afraid of everything, or to take precautions against all imaginable designs. For who would dare to attack a man in daylight, on a military road, or a man who is well attended, or an illustrious man? But these considerations have no bearing on the present time, nor, in my case, for not only would a man who offered violence to me have no fear of punishment, but he would even hope to obtain glory and rewards from those band of robbers. These dangers I can guard against in the city. It is easy for me to look around and see where I am going out from, whither I am going, what there is on my right hand and on my left. Shall I be able to do the same on the roads of the Ampatines? In which, even if there should be no ambush, as there easily may be, still my mind will be kept in such a state of anxiety as not to be able to attend to the duties of an embassy. Let's suppose I have escaped all plots against me, and have passed over the Ampatines. Still I have to encounter a meeting and a conference with Antonius. What place am I to select? If it is outside the camp, the rest may look to themselves. I think that death would come upon me instantly. I know the frenzy of the man, I know his unbridled violence, the ferocity of his manners and the savageness of his nature, is not usually softened even by wine. Then inflamed by anger and insanity, with his brother Lucius, that foulest beasts at his side, he will never keep his sacrilegious and impious hands from me. I can recollect conferences with most bitter enemies, and with citizens in a state of the most bitter disagreement. Nias Pompeius, the son of Sextus, being consul, in my presence, when I was serving my first campaign in his army, had a conference with Publius Vettius Scato, the general of the Martians, between the camps, and I recollect that Sextus Pompeius, the brother of the consul, a very learned and wise man, came thither from Rome to the conference, and when Scato saluted him, What, said he? Am I to call you? Call me, said he, one who is by inclination of friend, by necessity and enemy. That conference was conducted with fairness. There was no fear, no suspicion. Even their mutual hatred was not great, for the allies were not seeking to take our city from us, but to be themselves admitted to share the privileges of it. Sulla and Scipio, one attended by the flower of the nobility, the other by the allies, had a conference between the Calais and Tynum, respecting the authority of the Senate, the suffrages of the people, and the privileges of citizenship, and agreed upon conditions and stipulations. Good faith was not strictly observed at that conference, but still there was no violence used, and no danger incurred. But can we be equally safe among Antonius's piratical crew? We cannot, or, even if the rest can, I do not believe that I can. What will be the case if we are not to confer out of the camp? What camp is to be chosen for the conference? He will never come into our camp. Much less will we go to his. It follows, then, that all demands must be received and sent to and fro by means of letters. We shall be in our respective camps. On all his demands I shall have but one opinion, and when I have stated it here, in your hearing, you may think that I have gone, and that I have come back again. I shall have finished my embassy. As far as my sentiments can prevail, I shall refer every demand which Antonius makes to the Senate. For indeed we have no power to do otherwise, nor have we received any commission from this assembly, such as, when a war is terminated, is usually in accordance with the precedences of your ancestors entrusted to the ambassadors. Nor, in fact, have we received any particular commission from the Senate at all. And as I shall pursue this line of conduct in the council, where some, as I imagine, will oppose it, have I not a reason to fear that the ignorant mob may think that peace is delayed by my means? Suppose now that the new legions do not disapprove of my resolution, for I am quite sure that the Martial Legion and the Fourth Legion will not approve of anything which is contrary to dignity and honor. What then? Have we no regard for the opinion of the veterans? For even they themselves do not wish to be feared by us. Still, how will they receive my severity? For they have heard many false statements concerning me. Wicked men have circulated among them calamities against me. Their advantage, indeed, as you all are most perfect witnesses of, I have always promoted, in my opinion, by my authority and by my language. But they believe wicked men, they believe seditious men, they believe their own party. They are indeed brave men, but by reason of their exploits which they have performed in the cause of the freedom of the Roman people and of the safety of the Republic. They are too ferocious and too much inclined to bring all our councils under the sway of their own violence. Their deliberate reflection I am not afraid of, but I confess I dread their impetuosity. If I escape all these great dangers, too, do you think my return will be completely safe? For when I have, according to my usual custom, defended your authority and have proved my good faith towards the Republic and my firmness, then I shall have to fear not those men alone who hate me, but those also who envy me. Let my life then be preserved for the Republic. Let it be kept for the service of my country, as long as my dignity or nature will permit, and let death either by the necessity of fate, or, if it must be encountered earlier, let it be encountered with glory. This being the case, although the Republic has no need, to say the least of it, of this embassy, still, if it be possible for me to go on it in safety, I am willing to go. Altogether, O Conscript Fathers, I shall regulate the whole of my conduct in this affair, not to any consideration of my own danger, but by the advantage of the Republic. And as I have plenty of time, I think that it behooves me to deliberate upon that over and over again, and to adopt that line of conduct, which I shall judge to be the most beneficial to the Republic. End of the twelfth oration of Marcus Tullius Cicero against Marcus Antonius, called also the twelfth Philippic.