 Section 2, Part 2 of the Fourteen Orations against Marcus Antonius, called Philippics. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Philippics by Marcus Tullius Cicero. The Second Philippic, Part 2. When victorious you returned with the legions from Thessaly to Brindisium. There you did not put me to death. It was a great kindness, for I confess that you could have done it, although there was no one of those men who were with you at that time who did not think that I ought to be spared. For so great is men's affection for their country that I was sacred even in the eyes of your legions because they recollected that the country had been saved by me. However, grant that you did give me what you did not take from me, and that I have my life as a present from you, since it was not taken from me by you. Was it possible for me, after all your insults, to regard that kindness of yours as I regarded it at first, especially after you saw that you must hear this a reply from me? You came to Brindisium, to the bosom and embraces of your actress. What is the matter? Am I speaking falsely? How miserable is it not to be able to deny a fact which it is disgraceful to confess? If you had no shame before the municipal towns, had you none even before your veteran army? For what soldier was there who did not see her at Brindisium? Who was there who did not know that she had come so many days' journey to congratulate you? Who was there who did not grieve that he was so late in finding out how worthless a man he had been following? Again, you made a tour through Italy with the same actress for your companion. All admiserable was the way in which you led your soldiers into the towns. Shameful was the pillage in every city of gold and silver and, above all, of wine. And besides all this, while Caesar knew nothing of it, as he was at Alexandria, Antonius, by the kindness of Caesar's friends, was appointed his master of the horse. Then he thought he could live with Hippia by virtue of his office and that he might give horses which were the property of the state to Sergius the buffoon. At that time he had selected for himself to live in, not the house which he now dishonours, but that of Marcus Piso. Why need I mention his decrees, his robberies, the possession of inheritances which were given to him, and those two which were seized by him? Want compelled him. He did not know where to turn. That great inheritance, from Lucius Rubirius, and that other from Lucius Tercelius, had not come to him. He had not yet succeeded as an unexpected heir to the place of Neus Pompeus, and of many others who were absent. He was forced to live like a robber, having nothing beyond which he could plunder from others. However, we will say nothing of these things which are acts of a more hearty sort of villainy. Let us speak rather of his meaner descriptions of worthlessness. You, with those jaws of yours and those sides of yours and that strength of body suited to a gladiator, drank such quantities of wine at the marriage of Hippia that you were forced to vomit the next day, in the sight of the Roman people. Oh, action, disgraceful, not merely to see, but even to hear of. If this had happened to you at supper and missed those vast drinking cups of yours, who would have thought it scandalous? But in an assembly of the Roman people, a man holding a public office, a master of the horse, to whom it would have been disgraceful even to Belch, vomiting filled his own bosom and the whole tribunal with the fragments of what he had been eating reeking with wine. But he himself confesses this, among his other disgraceful acts. Let us proceed then to his more splendid offenses. Caesar came back from Alexandria, fortunate as he seemed at least to himself, but in my opinion no one can be fortunate who is unfortunate for the Republic. The spear was set up in front of the temple of Jupiter Stator and the property of Neus Pompeius Magnus, miserable that I am, for even now that my tears have ceased to flow my grief remains deeply implanted in my heart. The property, I say, of Neus Pompeius Magnus, was submitted to the pitiless voice of the auctioneer. On that one occasion the State forgot its slavery and groaned aloud, though men's minds were enslaved, as everything was kept under by fear. Still the groans of the Roman people were free. While all men were waiting to see who would be so impious, who would be so mad, who would be so declared an enemy to gods and to men as to dare to mix himself up with that wicked auction, no one was found, except Antonius, even though there were plenty of men collected round that spear who would have dared anything else. One man alone was found to dare to do that which the audacity of everyone else had shrunk from and shuttered at. Were you then seized with such stupidity, or should I rather say with such insanity, as to not see if you, being of the rank in which you were born, acted as a broker at all, and above all as a broker in the case of Pompeius's property, you would be executed and hated by the Roman people, and that all gods and all men must at once become and forever continue hostile to you. But with what violence did that glutton immediately proceed to take possession of the property of that man to whose valor it had been owing that the Roman people had been more terrible to foreign nations while his justice had made it dearer to them? When therefore this fellow had begun to wallow in the treasures of that great man, he began to exalt like a buffoon in a play who has lately been a beggar and has suddenly become rich. But as some poet or other says, ill-gotten gains come quickly to an end. It is an incredible thing, and almost a miracle, how he in a few, not months, but days, squandered all that vast wealth. It was an immense quantity of wine, an excessive abundance of very valuable plate, much precious apparel, great quantities of splendid furniture, and other magnificent things in many places, such as one was likely to see belonging to a man who was not indeed luxurious, but who was very wealthy. Of all this, in a very few days there was nothing left. What Charibdis was ever so voracious? Charibdis, do I say? Charibdis, if she existed at all, was only one animal. The ocean, I swear most solemnly, appears scarcely capable of having swallowed up such numbers of things so widely scattered and distributed in such different places with such rapidity. Nothing was shut up, nothing sealed up, no list was made of anything, whole storehouses were abandoned to the most worthless of men. Actors seized on this, actresses on that. The house was crowded with gamblers and full of drunken men. People were drinking all day, and that too in many places, there were added to all this expense, for this fellow was not invariably fortunate. Heavy gambling losses. You might see, in the cellar of the slaves, couches covered with the most richly embroidered counterpains of neus pompeus. But do not, then, that all these things were so soon consumed. Such profligacy as that could have devoured not only the patrimony of one individual, however ample it might have been, as indeed his was, but whole cities and kingdoms. And then his house and gardens—oh, the cruel audacity! Did you dare to enter into that house? Did you dare to cross that most sacred threshold, and to show your most profligate countenance to the household gods who protected that abode? That house, which for a long time no one could behold, no one could pass by without tears. Are you not ashamed to dwell so long in that house? One in which, stupid and ignorant as you are, still you can see nothing which is not painful to you. When you behold those beaks of ships in the vestibule, and those war-like trophies, do you fancy that you are entering into a house which belongs to you? It is impossible, although you are devoid of all sense and all feeling, as in truth you are. Still you are acquainted with yourself, and with your trophies, and with your friends. Nor do I believe that you, either waking or sleeping, can ever act with quiet sense. It is impossible but that, were you ever so drunk and frantic, as in truth you are, when the recollection of the appearance of that illustrious man comes across you, you should be roused from sleep by your fears, often stirred up to madness if awake. I pity even the walls and the roof, for what did that house ever beheld except what was modest, except which was preceded from the purest principles and from the most virtuous practice? For that man was, O conscript fathers, as you yourselves know, not only illustrious abroad, but also admired at home, and not more praiseworthy for his exploits in foreign countries than his domestic arrangements. Now in his house every bed-chamber is a brothel, and every dining-room is a cook-shop. Although he denies this, do not make inquiries. He has become economical, he desired that mistress of his to take possession of whatever belonged to her, according to the laws of the Twelve Tables. He has taken his keys from her and turned her out of doors. What a well-tried citizen! Of what proved virtue is he, the most honorable passion in whose life is the one when he divorced himself from this actress. But how constantly does he harp on the expression, the consul Antonius? This amounts to say, that most debauched consul, that most worthless of men, the consul. For what else is Antonius? For if any dignity were implied in the name, then I imagine your grandfather would sometimes have called himself the consul Antonius. That he never did, my colleague too, your uncle, would have called himself so, unless you are the only Antonius, but I pass over those offenses which have no peculiar connection with the part you took in harassing the Republic. I return to that in which you bore so principle a share, that is, to the Civil War, and it is mainly owing to you that it was originated, and brought to a head, and carried on. Though you yourself took no personal share in it, partly through timidity, partly through profligacy, you had tasted, or rather had sucked in, the blood of fellow citizens. You had been in the battle of Farsalia as a leader. You had slain Lucius Domitius, a most illustrious and high-born man. You had pursued and put to death, in the most barbarous manner, many men who had escaped from the battle, and whom Caesar would perhaps have saved, as he did some others. And after having performed those exploits, what was the reason why you did not follow Caesar into Africa? Only when so large a portion of the war was still remaining. And accordingly, what place did you obtain about Caesar's person after his return from Africa? What was your rank? He whose quister you had been when general, whose master of the horse when he was dictator, to whom you had been the chief cause of war, this chief instigator of cruelty, the sharer of his plunder, his son, as you yourself said, by inheritance, proceeded against you for the money which you owed for the house and gardens, and for the other property which you had bought at that sale. At first you answered fiercely enough, and that I may not appear prejudiced against you in every particular, you used a tolerably just and reasonable argument. What? Does Gaius Caesar demand money of me? Why should he do so? Any more than I should claim it of him. Was he victorious without my assistance? No, and he could never have been. And it was I who supplied him with a pretext for civil war, and it was I he proposed mischievous laws, and it was I who took up arms against the consuls and generals of the Roman people, against the senate and people of Rome, against the gods of the country, against its alters and healths, against the country itself. Has he conquered for himself alone? Why should not those men whose common work the achievement is have booty also in common? You were only claiming you're right. But what had that to do with it? He was the more powerful of the two. Therefore, stopping all your expostulations, he sent his soldiers to you and to your sureties, when all of a sudden out came that splendid catalogue of yours. How did men laugh? That there should be so vast a catalogue, that there should be such enumerous and various listed possessions, all of which, with the exception of a portion of misanum, there was nothing which the man who was putting them up to sail could call his own. And what a miserable sight was the auction. A little apparel of Pompeo's is, and that stained. A few silver vessels belonging to the same man, all battered. Some slaves in wretched condition, so that we grieve that there was anything remaining to be seen of those miserable relics. This auction, however, the heirs of lukeus ruberius prevented from proceeding, being armed with the decree of Caesar to that effect. The spentthrift was embarrassed. He did not know which way to turn. It was at this very time that an assassin sent by him was said to have been detected with a dagger in the house of Caesar. And of this Caesar himself complained in the Senate, invading openly against you. Caesar departs to Spain, having granted you a few days delay for making the payment, on account of your poverty. Even then you did not follow him. Had so good a gladiator as you retired from business so early? Can anyone then fear a man who was as timid as this man in upholding his party, that is, in upholding his own fortunes? After some time he at last went into Spain. But as he says he could not arrive there in safety. How then did Dolabella manage to arrive there? Either, O'Antonius, that cause ought never to have been undertaken, or when you had undertaken it it should have been maintained to the end. Thrice did Caesar fight against his fellow citizens, in Thessaly, and Africa and in Spain. Dolabella was present at all these battles. In the battle in Spain he even received a wound. If you ask my opinion, I wish he had not been there. But still, if his design at first was blamable, his consistency and firmness were praiseworthy. But what shall we say of you? In the first place the children of Nias Pompeius sought to be restored to their country. Well, this concerned the common interests of the whole party. Besides that, they sought to recover their household gods, the gods of their country, their altars, their hearths, the two-chiller gods of their family, all of which you had seized upon. And when they sought to recover those things by force of arms which belonged to them by the laws, who was it most natural? Although in unjust and unnatural proceedings what can there be that is natural? Still who was it most natural to expect would fight against the children of Nias Pompeius? Who? Why you, who had bought their property? You at Narbo to be sick over the tables of your entertainers while Dola Bella was fighting the battles in Spain? And what a return was that of yours from Narbo! He even asked why I had returned so suddenly from my expedition. I have just briefly explained to you, O Conscript Fathers, the reason of my return. I was desirous, if I could, to be of service to the Republic even before the 1st of January. For, as to your question, how I had returned, in the first place, I returned by daylight, not in the dark. In the second place I returned in shoes, and in my Roman gown, not in any Gallic slippers or barbarian mantle. And even now you keep looking at me, and, as it seems, with great anger. Surely you would be reconciled to me if you knew how ashamed I am of your worthlessness, which you yourself are not ashamed of. Of all the profligate conduct of all the world, I never saw, I never heard of any more shameful than yours. You who fancied yourself a master of the horse, when you were standing for, or I should rather say begging for the consulship for the ensuing year, ran in Gallic slippers in a barbarian mantle about the municipal towns and colonies of Gaul from which we used to demand the consulship when the consulship was stood for and not begged for. But mark now the trifling character of the fellow, when about the tenth hour of the day he arrived at Red Rocks. He sculked into a little petty wine-shop and hiding there kept on drinking till evening, and from thence, getting into a gig and being driven rapidly to the city, he came to his own house with his head veiled. Who are you, says the porter, and express for Marcus. He is at once taken to the woman for whose sake he had come, and he delivered the letter to her, and when she had read it with tears, for it was written in a very amorous style, but the main subject to the letter was that he would have nothing to do with that actress for the future, and that he had discarded all his love for her and transferred it to his correspondent. When she, I say, wept plentifully, this soft-hearted man could bear it no longer, he uncovered his head and threw himself on her neck. O worthless man, for when else can I call him? There was no more suitable expression for me to use. Was it for this that you disturbed the city by nocturnal alarms, and idly with fears of many days duration, in order that you may show yourself unexpectedly, and that a woman might see you before she hoped to do so? And he had at home a pretense of love, but out of doors a cause more discreditable still, namely, less Lucius Plankis should sell up his sureties. But after you had been produced in the assembly by one of the tribunes of the people, and had replied that you had come on your own private business, you made even the people full of jokes against you. But however, we have said too much about trifles. Let us come to more important subjects. You went a great distance to meet Caesar on his return from Spain. You went rapidly, you returned rapidly, in order that we might see that, if you were not brave, you were at least active. You again became intimate with him. I am sure I do not know how. Caesar had this peculiar characteristic, whoever he knew to be utterly ruined by debt and needy, even if he knew him also to be an audacious and worthless man, he willingly admitted into his intimacy. You then, being admirably recommended to him by these circumstances, were ordered to be appointed consul, and that too as his own colleague. I did not make any complaint against Dolabella, who at that time was acting under compulsion, and was conjoiled and deceived. But who is there who does not know with what great perfidy both of you treated Dolabella in that business? Caesar induced him to stand for the consulship. After having promised it to him and pledged himself to aid him, he prevented his getting it and transferred it to himself, and you endorsed his treachery with your own eagerness. The first of January arrives. We are convened in the Senate. Dolabella invaded against him with much more fluency and premeditation than I am doing now. And what things were there which he said in his anger, oh ye good gods! First of all, after Caesar had declared that before he departed he would order Dolabella to be made consul, and they deny that he was a king who was always doing and saying something of this sort. But after Caesar had said this, when this virtuous auger said that he was invested with the pontificate of that sort that he was able by means of the auspices either to hinder or devitiate the comitia, just as he pleased, and he declared that he would do so, and here in the first place remark the incredible stupidity of the man. For what do you mean? Did you not just as well have done what you said you had the power to do by the privileges which that pontificate had invested you, even if you were not an auger, if you were consul? Perhaps you could do it even more easily. For we augers have only the power of announcing that the auspices have been deserved, but the consuls and other magistrates have the right also of observing them whenever they choose. Be it so, you said this out of ignorance, for one must not demand prudence from a man who is never sober. But still, remark his impudence. Many months before he said in the senate that he would either prevent the comitia from assembling for the election of Dolabela by means of the auspices, or that he would do what he actually did do. Can anyone divine before him what defect there will be in the auspices, especially the man who is already determined to observe the heavens, which in the first place it is forbidden by law to do at the time of the comitia. If anyone had been observing the heavens he is bound to give notice of it, not after the comitia are assembled, but before they are held. But this man's ignorance is joined to impudence, nor does he know what an auger ought to know, nor do what a modest man ought to do, and just recollect the whole of his conduct during his consulship from that day up to the Ides of March. What lictor was ever so humble, so abject. He himself had no power at all. He begged everything of others, and thrusting his head into the hind part of his litter, he begged favors of his colleagues to sell them himself afterwards. Behold! The day of the comitia for the election of Dolabela arrives. The prerogative sentry draws its lot. He is quiet. The vote is declared. He is silent. The first class is called. Its vote is declared. Then, as is the usual course, the votes are announced. Then the second class. All this is done faster than I have told it. When the business is over, that excellent auger, you would say he must be Gaius Lilius, says, We adjourn it to another day. O the monstrous impudence of such a proceeding! What had you seen? What had you perceived? What had you heard? For you did not say that you had been observing the heavens, and indeed you do not say on this day. That defect then has arisen, which you, on the first of January, had already foreseen would arise, in which you had predicted so long before. Therefore, in truth, you have made a false declaration representing the auspices, to your own great misfortune, I hope, rather than that of the Republic. You laid the Roman people under the obligations of religion. You as auger, interrupted in auger. You as consul interrupted a consul by false declaration concerning the auspices. I will say no more, lest I seem to be pulling to pieces the acts of Dolabela, which must inevitably, sometime or other, be brought before our college. But take notice of the arrogance and insolence of the fellow. As long as you please, Dolabela is a consul irregularly elected. Again while you please, he is a consul elected with all proper regarded to the auspices. If it means nothing when an auger gives this notice in the words which you give notice, then confess that you, when you said, We adjourn this to another day, we're not even sober. But if those words had any meaning, then I, an auger, demand of my colleagues to know what that meaning is. And lest by chance, while enumerating his numerous exploits, our speech should pass over the finest actions of Marcus Antonius, let us come to the Lupercalia. He does not dissemble, O conscript fathers. It is plain that he is agitated. He perspires. He turns pale. Let him do what he pleases, provided he is not sick, and does not behave as he did in the Minucian colonnade. What defense can there be made for such beastly behavior? I wish to hear that I might see the fruit of those high wages of that rhetoricition, of that land-giving in Leontini. Your colleague was sitting in the rostra, clothed in purple robe, on a golden chair, wearing a crown. You mount the steps, your approach as chair. If you were a priest of Pan, you ought to have reckoned elected that you were consul, too. You display a diadem. There was a groan over the whole forum. Where did the diadem come from? Remember you had not picked it up when lying on the ground. But you had brought it from home with you, a premeditated and deliberately planned wickedness. You placed the diadem on his head, amid the groans of the people. He rejected it, amidst great applause. You then alone, O wicked man, were found, both to advise the assumption of kingly power, and to wish to have him for your master, who was your colleague, and also to try what the Roman people might be able to bear and to endure. Moreover, you even sought to move his pity. You threw yourself at his feet as a suppliant. Begging for what? To be a slave? You might beg it for yourself, when you had lived in such a way from the time when you were a boy that you could bear everything, and you would find no difficulty in being a slave. And certainly you had no commission from the Roman people to try for such a thing for them. Oh, how splendid was that eloquence of yours, when you're harangue the people stark naked. What could be more foul than this, more shameful than this, more deserving of every sort of punishment? Are you waiting for me to prick you more? This that I am saying must tear you and bring blood enough if you're to have any feeling at all. I am afraid that I may be detracting from the glory of some most eminent men. Still, my indignation should find a voice. What could be more scandalous than for that man to live who placed the diadem on a man's head, when everyone confesses that that man was deservedly slain who rejected it? And moreover he caused it to be recorded in the annals under the head of Lupricalia, that Marcus Antonius, the consul, by command of the people, had offered the kingdom to Gaius Caesar, perpetual dictator, and that Caesar had refused to accept it. I now am not much more surprised at your seeking to disturb the general tranquility, at your hating not only the city, but the light of day, and that you're living with a pack of abandoned robbers, disregarding the day, yet regarding nothing beyond the day. For where can you be safe and peace? What place can there be for you where laws and courts of justice have sway, both of which you, as far as in you lay, destroyed by the substitution of kingly power? Was it for this that Lucius Tarquinius was driven out, that Spurious Cassius, and Spurious Mylius, and that Marcus Manlius were slain, that many years afterwards a king might be established at Rome by Marcus Antonius, though the bare idea was impiety? However, let us return to the auspices. With respect to all the things which Caesar was intending to do in the Senate on the Ides of March, I ask whether you have done anything. I heard indeed that you have come down prepared, because you thought that I had intended to speak about your having made a false statement, respecting the auspices, though it was still necessary for us to respect them. The fortune of the Roman people saved us from that day. Did the death of Caesar also put an end to your opinion respecting the auspices? But I have come to mention that occasion which must be allowed to precede those matters which I have begun to address. What a flight was that of yours. What alarm was yours on that memorable day? How, from the consciousness of your wickedness, did you despair of your life? How, while flying, were you enabled secretly to get home by the kindness of those men who wished to save you, thinking you would show more sense than you do? Oh, how vain have at all times been my true predictions of the future. I told those deliverers of ours in the capital, when they wished me to go to you to exhort you to defend the Republic, that as long as you were in fear, you would promise everything. But that as soon as you had emancipated yourself from alarm, you would be yourself again. Therefore, while all the rest of the men of consular rank were going backwards and forwards to you, I adhered to my opinion, nor that I see you at all that day, or the next, nor that I think it possible for an alliance between virtuous citizens and a most unprincipled enemy to be made, so as to last, by any treaty or engagement whatever. The third day I came to the Temple of Telus. Even then, very much against my will, as armed men were blockading all the approaches. What a day that was for you, O Marcus Antonius! Although you showed yourself all of a sudden an enemy to me, still I pity you for having envied yourself. What a man, O ye immortal gods! And how great a man might you have been! If you had been able to preserve the inclination you displayed that day, we should still have peace which was made by the pledge of a hostage, a boy of noble youth, the grandson of Marcus Bambaleo, although it was fear that was then making you a good citizen, which is never a lasting teacher of duty. Your own audacity, which never departs from you as long as you are free from fear, has made you a worthless one. Though even at that time, when they thought you an excellent man, though I indeed differed from that opinion, you behaved with the greatest wickedness while presiding at the funeral of the tyrant, if that ought to be called a funeral. All that fine panegyric was yours, that commiseration was yours, that exhortation was yours, it was you, you I say, who hurled those fire-brands, both those with which your friend was nearly burnt, and those by which the house of Lucius Bellienus was set on fire and destroyed. It was you who let loose those attacks of abandoned men, slaves for the most part, which we repelled by violence, and our own personal exertions. It was you who set them on to attack our houses. And yet you, as if you wiped off all the suit and all the smoke in the ensuing days, carried those excellent resolutions in the capital, that no document conferring any exemption or granting any favor should be published after the Ides of March. You recollect yourself what you said about the exiles, you know what you said about the exemption. But the best of all was that you forever abolished the name of the dictatorship in the Republic, which act appeared to show that you had conceived such a hatred of kingly power that you took away all fear of it for the future, on account of him who had been the last dictator. To other men the Republic now seemed established, but it did not appear so at all to me as I was afraid of every sort of shipwreck as long as you were at the helm. Have I been deceived, or was it possible for that man long to continue unlike himself? While you were all looking on, documents were fixed up over the whole capital, and exemptions were being sold, not merely to individuals but to entire states. The freedom of the city was now being given not to single persons only, but to whole provinces. Therefore, if these acts are to stand, and stand they cannot if the Republic stands too, then, O conscript fathers, you have lost whole provinces, and not the revenues only, but the actual empire of the Roman people, has been diminished by a market this man held in his own house. Where are the 700 millions of Cisterci's which were entered in the account books which are in the Temple of Ops, a sum lamentable indeed as to the means by which it was procured, but still one which, if we were not restored to those whom it belonged, might save us from taxes. And how was it when you owed 40 millions of Cisterci's on the 15th of March, you ceased to owe them on the 1st of April? Those things are quite countless which were purchased by different people, not without your knowledge, but there was one excellent decree posted in the capital affecting King Diotorius, a most devoted friend to the Roman people, and when that decree was posted up, there was no one who, amid all his indignation, could restrain his laughter. However was a more bitter enemy to another was Caesar to Diotorius. He was as hostile to him as he was to this order, to the equestrian order, to the people in Messilia, and to all men whom he knew to look on the Republic of the Roman people with attachment. But this man, who neither present nor absent could ever obtain from him any favor of justice while he was alive, became quite an influential man with him when he was dead. When present with him in his house he was called for him, though he was his host. He had made him give in his accounts of his revenue, he had exacted money from him, he had established one of his Greek retainers in his tetrarchy, and he had taken Armenia from him, which had been given to him by the Senate. While he was alive he deprived him of all those things. Now that he is dead he gives them back again. And in what words? At one time he says, that it appears to him to be just, at another, that it appears not to be unjust. What a strange combination of words. But while alive, I know this for I always supported Deotarius who was at a distance, he never said that anything which we were asking for for him appeared just to him. A bond for ten millions of Cisterci's was entered into the woman's apartment, where many things have been sold and are still being sold by his ambassadors, well-meaning men but timid and inexperienced in business, without my advice or that of the rest of the hereditary friends of the monarch. And I advise you to consider carefully what you intend to do with reference to this bond. For the king himself, of his own accord, without waiting for any of Cesar's memoranda, the moment that he heard of his death, recovered his own rights by his own courage and energy. He, like a wise man, knew that this was always the law, that those men from whom the things which tyrants had taken away had been taken, might recover them when the tyrants were slain. No lawyer therefore, not even he who is your lawyer and yours alone, by whose advice you do all those things, will say that anything is due to you by virtue of that bond, for those things which had been recovered before that bond was executed, for he did not purchase them of you, but before you undertook to sell him his own property, he had taken possession of it. He was a man, we indeed deserve to be despised, who hate the author of the actions, but uphold the actions themselves. Why need I mention the countless mass of people, the innumerable autographs which have been brought forward, writings of which there are imitators who sell their forgeries as openly as if they were gladiators' playbills. Therefore there are now such heaps of money piled up in that man's house, that is weighed out instead of being counted. But how blind is avarice? Lately too a document has been posted up, by which the most wealthy cities of the Cretians are released from tribute, and by which is it ordained that after the expiration of the consulship of Marcus Brutus, Crete shall cease to be a province. Are you in your senses? Aught you not to be put in confinement? Was it possible for there really to be a decree of Caesar's exempting Crete after the departure of Marcus Brutus, when Brutus had no connection whatever with Crete, and while Caesar was alive? But for the sale of this decree, that you may not, O conscript fathers, think it wholly ineffectual. You have lost the province of Crete. There was nothing in the whole world which anyone wanted to buy that this fellow was not ready to sell. Caesar too, I suppose, made up the law about the exiles which you have posted up. I do not wish to press upon anyone in misfortune. I only complain, in the first place, that the return of these men's had discredit thrown upon it. That whose cause Caesar judged to be different from that of the rest. And in the second place I do not know why you did not meet out the same measure to all. For there cannot be more than three or four left. Why do they who are in a similar misfortune enjoy a similar degree of your mercy? Why do you treat them as you treated your uncle? About whom you refused to pass a law when you were passing one about all the rest, and whom at the same time you encouraged to stand for the censorship and instigated him to a canvas which excited the ridicule and the complaint of everyone. But why did you not hold that comitia? Was it because a tribune of the people announced that there had been an ill-oamened flash of lightning seen? When you have any interest of your own to serve, then auspices are all nothing, but when it is only your friends who are concerned, then you become scrupulous. What more? Did you not also desert him in the matter of the centeverate? Yes, for he interfered with me. What were you afraid of? I suppose that you were afraid you would be able to refuse him nothing if you were restored to the full possession of his rights. You loaded him with every species of insult, a man whom you ought to have considered in the place of a father to you. If you had only piety or natural affection at all. You put away his daughter, your own cousin, having already looked out and provided yourself beforehand with another. That was not enough. You accused a most chaste woman of misconduct. Who can go beyond this? Yet you are not content with this. In a very full senate held on the first of January, while your uncle was present, you dared to say that this was your reason for a hatred of Dolabella, that you had a certain that he had committed adultery with your cousin and your wife. Who can decide whether it was more shameless of you to make such profligate and such impious statements about that unhappy woman in the senate, or more wicked to make them against Dolabella, or more scandalous to make them in the presence of her father, or more cruel to make them at all? However, let us return to the subject of Caesar's written papers. How were they verified by you? For the acts of Caesar were for peace sakes, confirmed by the senate, that is to say the acts which Caesar had really done, not those which Antonius said that Caesar had done. Where do all these come from? By whom are they produced and vouched for? If they are false, why are they ratified? If they are true, why are they sold? But the vote which was come to enjoined you, and after the first of June, to make an examination of Caesar's acts with the assistance of counsel. What counsel did you consult? Whom did you ever invite to help you? Was it the first of June that you waited for? Was it the day on which you, having traveled all through the colonies where the veterans were settled, returned escorted by a band of armed men? Oh, what a splendid progress of yours was that in the months of April and May, when you attempted, even to lead a colony to Capua. How you made your escape from thence, or rather how you barely made your escape, we all know. For now you are still threatening that city. I wish you would try, and we should not be forced to say, barely. However, what a splendid progress of yours that was. Why need I mention your preparations for banquets? Why your frantic, hard drinking? Those things are only an injury to yourself. These are injuries to us. We thought that a great blow was inflicted on the Republic when the Campanian District was released from the payment of taxes in order to be given to the soldiery, but you have divided it among your partners in drunkenness and gambling. I tell you, O conscript fathers, that a lot of buffoons and actresses have been settled in the district of Campania. Why should I now complain of what had been done in the district of Leontini? Although formerly these lands of Campania and Leontini were considered part of the patrimony of the Roman people, and were productive of great revenue and very fertile, you gave your physician three thousand acres. What would you have done if he had cured you? And two thousand acres to your master of oratory? What would you have done if he had been able to make you eloquent? However, let us return to your progress and to Italy. You led a colony to Casilinum, a place to which Caesar had previously led one. You did indeed consult me by letter about the colony of Capua, but I should have given you the same answer about Casilinum, whether you could legally lead a new colony to a place where there was a colony already. I said that a new colony could not be legally conducted to an existing colony, which had been established with a due observance to the auspices, as long as it remained in a flourishing state. But I wrote you word that new colonists might be enrolled among the old ones. But you, elated and insolent, disregarding all the respect due to the auspices, led a colony to Casilinum, wither one had been previously led a few years before, in a new colony with a plow. By that plow you almost grazed the gate of Capua, as if to diminish the territory of that flourishing colony. After this violation of all religious observances, you hasten off to the estate of Marcus Varro, a most conscientious and upright man at Casilinum. By what right? By what face did you do this? By just the same, you will say, as that with which you entered the estates of the heirs of Luchius Ruberius, or the heirs of Luchius Tercellius, or other innumerable possessions. If you got the right from any auction, let the auction have all the force with which it was entitled. Let the writings be a force, providing they are the writings of Caesar, and not your own, writings by which you are bound, not these which you have released from obligation. But who says that the estate of Varro at Casilinum was ever sold at all? Whoever saw any notice of that auction? Whoever heard the voice of the auctioneer? You say that you sent a man to Alexandria to buy it of Caesar. It was too long to wait for Caesar himself to come. But whoever heard, and there was no man about whose safety more people were anxious, that any part whatever of Varro's property had been confiscated. What shall we say if Caesar even wrote you that you were to give it up? What can be said strong enough for such enormous impudence? Remove for a while those swords which we see around us. We shall now see that the cause of Caesar's auctions is one thing, and that of your confidence and rashness is another. For not shall the owner drive you from that estate, but any one of his friends, or neighbors, or hereditary connections, or any agent will have the right to do so. How many days did he spend reveling in the most scandalous manner in that villa? From the third hour there was one scene of drinking, gambling, and vomiting. Alas, for the unhappy house itself, how different a master from its former one has it fallen to the share of? Although how is he the master at all? But still by how different a person has it been occupied. For Marcus Varro used it as a place of retirement for his studies, not as a theater for his lusts. What noble discussions used to take place in that villa? What ideas were originated there? What writings were composed there? The laws of the Roman people, the materials of our ancestors, the consideration of all wisdom and all learning were the topics that used to be dwelt there. But now, while you were the intruder there, for I will not call you master, every place was resounding, with the voices of drunken men. The pavements were floating with wine, the walls were dripping, nobly born boys were mixing with the base's tirlings, prostitutes with mothers of families. Men came from Cassinum, from Aquinum, from Interamna to salute him. No one was admitted. That indeed was proper, for the ordinary marks of respect were unsuited to the most profligate of men. When going thence to Rome he approached Aquinum. A pretty, numerous company, for it is a populist municipality, came out to meet him. But he was carried through the town in a covered litter, as if he had been dead. The people of Aquinum acted foolishly, no doubt, but still they were in his road. What did the people of Aquinum do? Who, although they were out of his line of road, came down to meet him, in order to pay him their respects, as if he were consul. It is an incredible thing to say, but still, it is only too notorious at that time that he returned nobody's salutations, especially as he had two men of Aquinum with him, Moussela and Lako, one of whom had the care of his swords, the other of his drinking cups. Why should I mention the threats and insults with which he invaded against the people of Tinium secundium, with which he harassed the men of Putioli, because they had adopted Gaius Cassius and the Brutii as their patrons. A choice dictated in truth by great wisdom and great zeal, benevolence and affection for them, not by violence and force of arms, by which men had been compelled to choose you and Bicillus and others like you both, men whom no one would choose to have for his own clients, much less would be their client himself. In the meantime, while you yourself were absent, what a day that was for your colleague when he overturned that tomb in the Forum, which you were accustomed to regard with veneration. And then that auction was announced to you, you, as it was agreed upon by all who were with you at the time, fainted away. What happened afterwards I know not. I imagine that terror and arms got the mastery. At all events you dragged your colleague down from his heaven, and you rendered him, not even now like yourself, but at all events very unlike his own former self. After that, what a return was that of yours to Rome. How great was the agitation of the whole city. We recollected Sina being too powerful. After him we had seen Sulla with absolute authority. We had lately beheld Caesar acting as king. There were perhaps swords, but they were sheathed, and they were not very numerous. But how great and how barbaric a procession is yours. Men follow you in battle array with drawn swords. We see whole litters full of shields borne and long. And yet by custom, O conscript fathers, we have become inured and callous to those things. When on the first of June we wished to come to the Senate, as it had been ordained, we were suddenly frightened and forced to flee. But he, as having no need of a Senate, did not miss any of us, or rather rejoiced at our departure, and immediately proceeded to those marvelous exploits of his. He who had defended the memorandum of Caesar for the sake of his own profit, overturned the laws of Caesar and good laws, too, for the sake of being able to agitate the Republic. He increased the number of years that magistrates were to enjoy the provinces. Moreover, though he was bound to be the defender of the acts of Caesar, he rescinded them both with reverence to public and private transactions. In public transactions nothing is more authoritative than law. In private affairs the most valid of all deeds is a will. Of the laws some he abolished without giving the least noticed. Notice he gave notice of bills to abolish. Wills he annulled, though they had been at all times held sacred even in the case of the very meanest of citizens. As for the statues and pictures which Caesar bequeathed to the people, together with his gardens, those he carried away, some to the house which belonged to Pompeus, and some to Scipio's villa. And are you not then diligent in doing honor to Caesar's memory? Do you love him even now that he is dead? What greater honor had he obtained than having a holy cushion, an image, a temple, and a priest? As then Jupiter and Mars and Quirinus have priests. So Marcus Antonius is the priest of the god Julius. Why then do you delay? Why are not you inaugurated? Choose a day. Select someone to inaugurate you. We are colleagues. No one will refuse you, O you detestable man, whether you are the priest of a tyrant or of a dead man. I ask you then whether you are ignorant what day this is. Are you ignorant that yesterday was the fourth day of the Roman games in the circus, and that you yourself submitted to a motion of the people, that a fifth day should be added besides, in the honor of Caesar? Why are we not all clad in the pretexta? Why are we permitting the honor by which your law was appointed for Caesar to be deserted? Had you no objection to so holy a day being polluted by the addition of supplications, while you did not choose it to be so by the addition of ceremonies connected with the sacred cushion? Either take away religion in every case, or preserve it in every case. You will ask whether I approve of his having a sacred cushion, a temple, and a priest. I approve of none of these things, but you, who are defending the acts of Caesar, what reason can you give for defending some and disregarding others, unless indeed you choose to admit that you measure everything by your own gain, and not by his dignity? Why will you not reply to these arguments? For I am waiting to witness your eloquence. I knew your grandfather, who was a most eloquent man, but I know you to be a more undisguised speaker than he was. He never harangue the people naked, but we have seen your breast, man without disguise as you are. Will you not make any reply to these statements? Will you dare to open your mouth at all? Can we find one single article in this long speech of mine to which you trust that you can make any answer? However, we shall say no more of what has passed. But this single day, this very day that is now, this very moment while I am speaking, defend your conduct during this very moment, if you can. Why has the senate been surrounded with the belt of our men? Why are your satellites listening to me, sword in hand? Why are not the folding doors of the Temple of Concord open? Why do you bring men of all nations, the most barbarous, illyrians, armed with arrows into the forum? He says that he does so as a guard. Is it not better to perish a thousand times than to be unable to live in one's own city without a guard of our men? But believe me, there is no protection in that. A man must be defended by the affection and good will if his fellow citizens, not by arms. The Roman people will take them from you, will rest them from your hands. I wish that they may do so while we are still safe. However, you treat us as long as you adopt these councils. It is impossible for you, believe me, to last long. In truth, that wife of yours, who is so far removed from covetousness, and whom I mention without intending any slight to her, has been too long owning her third payment to the state. The Roman people has men to whom it can entrust the helm of the state. And wherever they are, there is all the defense of the republic, or rather there is the republic itself, which as yet has only avenged, but has not re-established itself. Truly and surely has the republic most high-born youths ready to defend it, though they may for a time keep in the background for a desire for tranquility, yet they can be recalled by the republic at any time. The name of peace is sweet. The thing itself is most salutary, but between peace and slavery there is a wide difference. Peace is liberty and tranquility. Slavery is the worst of all evils, to be repelled if need be, not only by war but even by death. But if those deliverers of ours have taken themselves away, out of our sight, still they have left behind the example of their conduct. They have done what no one else has done. Brutus pursued Tarquinus with war, who was a king when it was lawful for a king to exist in Rome. Spurious Cassius, Spurious Milius, and Marcus Manlius were all slain because they were suspected of aiming at regal power. These are the first men who have ever ventured to attack, sword in hand, a man who is not aiming at regal power, but actually rejoining. Their action is not only itself a glorious and godlike exploit, but is also one put forth for our imitation, especially since by it they have acquired such glory as appears hardly to be bounded by heaven itself. For although in the very consciousness of a glorious action there is a certain reward, still I do not consider immortality of glory a thing to be despised by one who is himself mortal. Recollect then, O Marcus Antonius, that day on which you abolished the dictatorship. Set before you the joy of the Senate and people of Rome. Compare it with this infamous market held by you and your friends, and then you will understand how great is the difference between praise and profit. But in truth, just as some people, through some disease which has blunted the senses, have no conception of the niceness of food, so men who are lustful, avaricious, and criminal have no taste for true glory. But if praise alone cannot allure you to act rightly, still cannot even fear turn you away from the most shameful actions? You are not afraid of the courts of justice. If it is because you are innocent I praise you. If it is because you trust in your power of overbearing them by violence, are you ignorant of what that man has to fear? Who on such an account as that does not fear the courts of justice? But if you are not afraid of brave men and illustrious citizens because they are prevented from attacking you by your armed retinue, still believe me, your own fellows will not long endure you, and what a life it is day and night to be fearing danger from one's own people, unless indeed you have men who are bound to you by greater kindness than some of those men by whom he was slain were bound to Caesar, or unless there are points in which you can be compared with him. In that man were combined genius, method, memory, literature, prudence, deliberation, and industry. He had performed exploits in war which, though calamitous for the Republic, were nevertheless mighty deeds. Having for many years aimed at being a king, he had with great labor and with much personal danger accomplished what he had attended. He had conciliated the ignorant multitude by presence, by monuments, his largeses by food, and by banquets. He had bound his own party to him by rewards and his adversaries by the appearances of clemency. Why need I say much on such a subject? He had already brought a free city, partly by fear, partly by patience, into the habit of slavery. With him I can indeed compare you as to your desire to reign, but in all of the respects you are in no degree to be compared with him. But from the many evils which by him have been burnt into the Republic, still there is this good, that the Roman people has now learned how much to believe everyone, to whom to trust itself and against whom to guard. Do you never think on these things? Do you not understand that it is enough for brave men to have learned how noble a thing it is to the act? How grateful it is by the benefit done? How glorious as to the fame acquired to slay a tyrant? When men could not bear him, do you think that they will bear you? Believe me, the time will come when men will race to one another to do this deed, when no one will wait for the tardy arrival of an opportunity. Consider I beg you, Marcus Antonius. Do some time or other consider the Republic. Think of the family in which you were born. Not of the men with whom you are living. Be reconciled to the Republic. However, do you decide on your conduct? As to mine, I myself will declare what shall be. I defended the Republic as a young man. I will not abandon it now that I am old. I scorn the sword of Catiline. I will not quail before yours. No, I will rather cheerfully expose my own person, if the liberty of the city can be restored by my death. May the indignation of the Roman people at last bring forth what it has so long been laboring with. In truth, if twenty years ago, in this very temple, I asserted that death could not come prematurely upon a man of consular rank, with how much more truth must I now say the same of an old man. To me, indeed, O conscript fathers, death is now even desirable, after all the honors which I have gained, and the deeds which I have done. I only pray for these two things. One, that dying I may leave the Roman people free. No greater boon than this can be granted to the immortal gods. Another, that every one may meet with a fate suitable to his deserts and the conduct towards the republic. End of the second, Philippic. Section 3 of the Fourteen Orations against Marcus Antonius called Philippics. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Philippics by Marcus Tullius Cicero. The Third Philippic. The Argument. After the composition of the last speech, Octavius, considering that he had reason to be offended with Antonius, formed a plot for his assassination by means of some slaves, which however was discovered. In the meantime, Antonius began to declare more and more openly against the conspirators. He erected a statue in the Forum to Caesar, with the inscription, to the most worthy defender of his country. Octavius at the same time was trying to win over the soldiers of his Uncle Julius, and outbidding Antonius and all his promises to them, so that he soon collected a formidable army of veterans. But as he had no public office to give him any color for his conduct, he paid great court to the Republican Party, in hopes to get his proceedings authorized by the Senate, and he kept continually pressing Cicero to return to Rome and support him. Cicero however for some time kept aloof, suspecting partly his abilities on account of his exceeding youth, and partly his sincerity in reconciling himself to his Uncle's murderers. However at last he returned, after expressly stipulating that Octavius should employ all his forces in defense of Brutus and his accomplices. Octavius left Rome about the end of September, in order to engage in his service four legions of Caesars, which were on their return from Macedonia. But when they arrived at Prindisium, three of them refused to follow him, on which he murdered all their Centurions to the number of three hundred, who were all put to death in his lodgings in the sight of himself and Fulvia, his wife, and then returned to Rome with the one legion that he had prevailed upon. While the other three legions declared as yet for neither party. On his arrival in Rome he published very many violent edicts, and summoned the senate to meet on the 24th of October. Then he adjoined it to the 28th, and a day or two before it met, he heard that two out of the three legions had declared for Octavius and encamped at Alba. And this news alarmed him so much that he abandoned his intention of proposing to the senate a decree to declare Octavius a public enemy, and after distributing some provinces among his friends he put on his military robes, and left the city to take possession of Kisalpine Gaul, which had been assigned to him by a pretended law of the people against the will of the senate. On the news of his departure Cicero returned to Rome, where he arrived on the 9th of December. He immediately conferred with Panza, one of the consuls elect, Herschus' colleague was ill, as to the measures to be taken. He was again addressed with earnest solicitations by the friends of Octavius, who, to confirm his belief in his good intentions, allowed Casca, who had been one of the slayers of Caesar, and had himself given the first blow, to enter on his office as tribune of the people on the 10th of December. The new tribunes convoked the senate for the 19th, on which occasion Cicero had attended to be absent, but receiving the day before the edict of Decimus Brutus, by which he forbade Antonius to enter his province. Shortly after the death of Caesar, he had been taken possession of Kisalpine Gaul, which had been conferred on him by Caesar, and declared that he would defend it against him by force and preserve it in his duty to the senate. He thought it necessary to be cured for Brutus a resolution of the senate in his favor. He went down therefore very early, and in a very full house delivered the following speech. We have assembled at length, O conscript fathers, although later than the necessities of the republic required. But still we are assembled, a measure which I, indeed, have been every day demanding, in so much as I saw that a nefarious war against our altars and our hearths, against our lives and our fortunes was, I will not say being prepared, but being actually waged by a profligate and desperate man. People are waiting for the 1st of January, but Antonius is not waiting for that day, who is now attempting with an army to invade the province of Decimus Brutus, a most illustrious and excellent man, and when he has procured reinforcements and equipments there, he threatens that he will come to this city. What is the use then of waiting, or even of a delay for the very shortest time? For although the 1st of January is at hand, still a short time is a long time for people who are not prepared. For a day, or I should rather say an hour, often brings great disasters if no precautions are taken. And it is not usual to wait for a fixed day for holding a council, as it is for celebrating a festival. But if the 1st of January had fallen that day when Antonius first fled from the city, or if the people had not waited for it, we should by this time have no war at all. We should easily have crushed the audacity of that frantic man by the authority of the senate and the unanimity of the Roman people. And now, indeed, I feel confident that the council's elect will do so as soon as they enter on their magistracy, for they are men of the highest courage, of the most consummate wisdom, and they will act in perfect harmony with each other. But my exhortations to rapid and instant action are prompted by a desire not merely for victory, but for speedy victory. For how long are we to trust to the prudence of an individual to repel so important, so cruel, so nefarious a war? Why is it not the public authority thrown into the scale as quickly as possible? Gaius Caesar, a young man, or I should rather say almost a boy, endowed with an incredible and godlike degree of wisdom and valor, at the time when the frenzy of Antonius was at its height, and when his cruel and mischievous return from Brindisium was an object of apprehension to all, while we neither desired him to do so, nor thought of such a measure, nor adventured even to wish it, because it did not seem practicable, collected a most trustworthy army from the invincible body of veteran soldiers, and has spent his own patrimony in doing so. Although I have not used the expression which I ought, for he has not spent it, he has invested it in the safety of the republic. And although it is not possible to requite him with all the thanks to which he is entitled, still we ought to feel all the gratitude towards him which our minds are capable of conceiving. For who is so ignorant of the republic is not to see that if Marcus Antonius could have come with those forces which he had made sure that he should have from Brindisium to Rome as he threatened, there would have been no description of cruelty which he would not have practised. A man who in the house of his entertainer at Brindisium ordered so many gallant men and virtuous citizens to be murdered, and whose wife's face was notoriously sprinkled with the blood of men dying at his and her feet. Who is there of us, or what good man is there at all whom a man stained with this barbarity would ever have spared, especially as he was coming here much more angry with all virtuous men than he had been with those whom he massacred there? And from this calamity Caesar has delivered the republic by his own individual prudence, and indeed there were no other means by which it could have been done, and if he had not been born in this republic we should, owing to the wickedness of Antonius now, have no republic at all. For this is what I believe, this is my deliberate opinion, that if that one young man had not checked the violence and inhuman projects of that frantic man, the republic would have been utterly destroyed. And to him we must, O conscript fathers, for this is the very first time met in such a condition that, owing to his good service we are at liberty to say freely what we think and feel, we must, I say, this day give authority, so that he may be able to defend the republic, not because that defense has been voluntarily undertaken by him, but also because it has been entrusted to him by us. Nor, since now after a long interval we are allowed to speak concerning the republic, is it possible for us to be silent about the Martial Legion. For what single man has ever been braver, what single man has ever been more devoted to the republic than the whole of the Martial Legion? Which, as soon as it was decided that Marcus Antonius was an enemy of the Roman people, refused to be a companion in his insanity, deserted him, though consul, which in truth it would not have done if it had considered him as consul, who, as it saw, was aiming at nothing, and preparing nothing, but the slaughter of the citizens and the destruction of the state. And that Legion has accamped at Alba. What city could have it had selected, either more suitable for enabling it to act, or more faithful, or full of more gallant men, or of citizens more devoted to the republic? The fourth Legion, imitating the virtue of this Legion, under the leadership of Luchius Ignatuleius the Quyster, a most virtuous and intrepid citizen, has also acknowledged the authority and joined the army of Gaius Caesar. We therefore, Oconscript Fathers, must take care that those things which this most illustrious young man, this most excellent of all men has done of his own accord and is still doing, be sanctioned by our authority and the admirable unanimity of the veterans, those most brave men, and of the Martial, and of the Fourth Legion in their zeal for the re-establishment of the republic, be encouraged by our praise and commendation, and let us pledge ourselves this day that their advantage and honors and rewards shall be cared for by us as soon as the consuls-elect have entered on their magistracy. And the things which I have said about Caesar and about his army are indeed already well known to you, for by the admirable valor of Caesar, and by the firmness of the veteran soldiers, and by the admirable discernment of those legions which have followed our authority, and the liberty of the Roman people, and the valor of Caesar, Antonius has been repelled from his attempts upon our lives. But these things, as I have said, happened before, but this recent edict of Decimus Brutus, which has just been issued, can certainly not be passed over in silence, for he promises to preserve the province of Gaul in obedience to the Senate and people of Rome, o citizens born for the republic, mindful of the name he bears, imitator of his ancestors, nor indeed was the acquisition of liberty so much an object of desire to our ancestors when Tarquinius was expelled, as now that Antonius is driven away, the preservation of it, is to us. Those men had learnt to obey kings, ever since the foundation of the city, but we, from the time when the kings were driven out, have forgotten how to be slaves, and that Tarquinius, whom our ancestors expelled, was not either considered or called cruel or impious, but only the proud, that vice which we could have borne in private individuals, our ancestors could not have endured even in a king. Lucius Brutus could not endure a proud king, shall Decimus Brutus submit to the kingly power of a man who was wicked and impious? What atrocity did Tarquinius ever commit equal to the innumerable acts of the sort which Antonius has done and is still doing? Again, the kings were used to consult the Senate, nor, as is the case when Antonius holds a Senate, were armed barbarians ever introduced into the council of the king. The kings paid due regard to the auspices, which this man, though consul and augur, has neglected, not only by passing laws in opposition to the auspices, but also by making his colleague, whom he himself had appointed irregularly and had falsified the auspices in order to do so, joined in passing them. Indeed, what king was ever so preposterously impudent as to have all the prophets and kindnesses and privileges of his kingdom on sale? But what immunity is there? What rights of citizenship? What rewards that this man has not sold to individuals and to cities and to entire provinces? We have never heard of anything base or soared being imputed to Tarquinius. But at the house of this man gold was constantly being weighed out in the spinning room, and money was being paid, and in one single house, every soul who had any interest in the business was selling the whole empire of the Roman people. We have never heard of any executions of Roman citizens by the orders of Tarquinius. But this man, both at Suiza, murdered the man who he had thrown into prison, and at Brindisium, massacred about 300 most gallant men and most virtuous citizens. Lastly, Tarquinius was conducting a war in defense of the Roman people at the very time when he was expelled. Tarquinius was leading an army against the Roman people at the very time when, being abandoned by the legions, he cowered at the name of Caesar and had his army, and neglecting the regular sacrifices he offered up before daylight vows which he could never mean to perform, and at this very moment he is endeavoring to invade a province of the Roman people. The Roman people, therefore, has already received and is still looking for greater services at the hands of Decimus Brutus than our ancestors received from Lucius Brutus, the founder of this race, and name which we ought to be so anxious to preserve. But while all slavery is miserable, to be a slave to a man who is profligate, unchaste, effeminate, never, not even while in fear, sober, is surely intolerable. He then, who keeps this man out of gall, especially by his own private authority, judges, and judges most truly that he is not consul at all. We must take care therefore, O conscript fathers, to sanction the private decision of Decimus Brutus by public authority. Nor indeed ought you to have thought Marcus Antonius consul at any time since the Lupercalia, for on the day when he, in the sight of the Roman people, harangued the mob, naked, perfumed, and drunk, and labored moreover to put a crown on the head of his colleague, on that day he abdicated not only the consulship, but also his own freedom. At all events he himself must at once have become a slave, if Caesar had been willing to accept from him that ensign of royalty. Can I then think him a consul? Can I then think him a Roman citizen? Can I think him a freedman? Can I even think him a man, who on that shameful and wicked day showed that he was willing to endure while Caesar lived and what he was anxious to obtain himself after he was dead? Nor is it possible to pass over in silence the virtue and firmness and dignity of the province of Gaul. For that is the flower of Idli. That is the bulwark of the empire of the Roman people. That is the chief ornament of our dignity. But so perfect is the unanimity of the municipal towns and colonies of the province of Gaul, that all men in that district appear to have been united to defend the authority of this order and the majesty of the Roman people. Wherefore, O tribunes of the people, although you have not actually brought any other business before us beyond the question of protection, in order that the consuls may be able to hold the senate with safety on the first of July, still you appear to me to have acted with great wisdom and great prudence in giving an opportunity of debating the general circumstances of the republic. For when you decided that the senate could not be held with safety without some protection or other, you, at the same time asserted by that decision that the wickedness and audacity of Antonius was still continuing its practices within our walls. Wherefore I will embrace every consideration in my opinion which I am now going to deliver, a course to which you, I feel sure, have no objection, in order that authority may be conferred by us on admirable generals, and that hope of reward may be held out by us to gallant soldiers, and that a formal decision may become to, not by words only, but also by actions that Antonius is not only not a consul, but is even an enemy. For if he be consul, then the legions which have deserted the consuls deserve beating to death. Caesar is wicked, Brutus is impious, since they of their own heads have lived in an army against the consul. But if new honors are to be sought out for soldiers on account of their divine and immortal merits, and if it is quite impossible to show gratitude enough to the generals, who is there that must not think that man a public enemy, whose conduct is such that those who are in arms against him are considered the saviours of the republic. Again, how insulting he is with his edicts, how ignorant, how like a barbarian, in the first place, how he has heaped abuse on Caesar in terms drawn from his recollection of his own debauchery and profligacy. For where can we find anyone who is chaster than this young man, who is more modest? Where have we among our youth a more illustrious example of the old-fashioned strictness? Who, on the other hand, is more profligate than the man who abuses him? He reproaches the son of Gaius Caesar with his want of noble blood, while even his own natural father, if he had been alive, would have been made consul. His mother is a woman of Arikia. You might suppose he was saying a woman of Trales or of Ephesus. Just see how we all, who have come from the municipal towns, that is to say absolutely all of us are looked down upon, for how few of us are there who do not come from those towns, and what municipal town is there in which he does not despise, who looks with such contempt on Arikia, a town most ancient as to its antiquity, if we regard its rites, united with us by treaty, if we regard its vicinity, almost close to us, if we regard the high character of its inhabitants most honorable. It is from Arikia that we have received the Volconian and Athenian laws. From Arikia have come many of those magistrates who have filled our curile chairs, both in our father's recollection and in our own. From Arikia have sprung many of the best and bravest of the Roman knights. But if you disapprove of a wife from Arikia, why do you approve of one from Tuscalum? Although the father of this most virtuous and excellent woman, Marcus Atius Baubus, the man of the highest character, was a man of the Praetorian rank, but the father of your own wife, a good woman at all events, a rich one, a fellow of the name of Bambaleo, who was a man of no account of all. Nothing could be lower than he was, a fellow who got a surname as a sort of insult, derived from the hesitation of his speech and the stolidity of his understanding. Oh, but your grandfather was nobly born. Yes, he was that Tudetanus, who used to put on a cloak in Buskens, and then go and scatter money from the Rastra among the people. I wish he had bequeathed his contempt of money on to his descendants. You have indeed a most glorious nobility of family. But how does it happen that the son of a woman of Arikia appears to you to be ignoble when you are accustomed to boast of a dissent on the mother's side, which is precisely the same? Besides, what insanity is it for that man to say anything about the want of noble birth and men's wives, when his father married Numitoria of Furgeli, the daughter of a traitor, and when he himself has begotten children of the daughter of a freedman? However, those illustrious men, Lucius Philippus, who has a wife who came from Arikia, and Gaius Marcellus, whose wife is the daughter of a Runerikian, may look to this, and I am quite sure that they have no regrets on the score of the dignity of those admirable women. Moreover, Antonius proceeds to name Quintus Cicero, my brother's son, in his edict, and who is so mad as to not perceive that the way in which he names him is a panagyric on him, for what could happen more desirable for this young man than to be known by everyone to be the partner of Caesar's and the enemy of the frenzy of Antonius. But this gladiator has dared to put in writing that he has designed the murder of his father and of his uncle, the marvelous impudence and audacity and temerity of such an assertion, to dare to put in writing against me that young man, whom I and my brother, on account of his amiable matterns and pure character and splendid abilities, vie with each other in loving, and to whom we incessantly devote our eyes and ears and affections. As to me, he does not know whether he is injuring or praising me in those seem edicts, when he threatens the most virtuous citizens with the same punishment which I inflicted on the most wicked and infamous of men. He seems to praise me as if he were desirous of copying me, but when he brings up again the memory of that most illustrious exploit, then he thinks that he is exciting some odium against me in the breasts of men like himself. But what is it that he has done himself when he had published all these edicts, he issued another, that the Senate was to meet in a full house on the 24th of November. On that day, he himself was not present. But what were the terms of his edict? These, I believe, were the exact words of the end of it. If anyone fails to attend, all men will be at liberty to think him the advisor of my destruction and of most ruinous councils. What are ruinous councils? Those which relate to the recovery of the liberty of the Roman people? Of those councils I confess that I have been and still am an advisor and prompter to Caesar. Though he did not stand in need of anyone's advice, but still I spurned on the willing horse, as it is said, for what good man would not have advised putting you to death when on your death depended the safety and life of every good man and the liberty and dignity of the Roman people. But when he had summoned all of us by so severe an edict, why did he not attend himself? Do you suppose that he was detained by any melancholy or important occasion? He was detained drinking and feasting, if indeed it deserves to be called a feast and not rather gluttony. He neglected to attend on that day, mentioned in his edict, and he adjourned the meeting to the 28th. He then summoned us to attend in the capital, and at that temple he did arrive himself, coming up through some mine left by the Gauls. Men came, having been summoned, some of them indeed man of high distinction, but forgetful of what was due to their dignity. For the day was such, the report of the object of the meeting such, such too the man who had convened the Senate, that it was discreditable for a senator to feel no fear for the result. Yet to those men who had assembled, he did not dare to say a single word about Caesar, though he had made up his mind to submit a motion respecting him to the Senate. There was a man of consular rank who brought a resolution ready to be drawn up. Is it not now admitting that he is himself an enemy when he does not dare to make a motion respecting a man who is leading an army against him while he is consul? For it is perfectly plain that one of the two must be an enemy, nor is it possible to come to a different decision respecting adverse generals. If then Gaia Caesar be an enemy, why does the consul submit no motion to the Senate? If he does not deserve to be branded by the Senate, then what can the consul say who by his silence respecting him has confessed that he himself is an enemy? In his edicts he styles him Spartacus, while in the Senate he does not venture to call him even a bad citizen. But in the most melancholy circumstances, what mirth does he not provoke? I have committed to memory some short phrases of one edict which he appears to think particularly clever, but I have not as yet found anyone who has understood what he intended by them. That is no insult which a worthy man does. Now, in the first place, what is the meaning of worthy? For there are many men worthy of punishment as he himself is. Does he mean what a man does who is invested with any dignity? If so, what insult can be greater? Moreover, what is the meaning of doing an insult? Whoever uses such an expression. Then comes nor any fear which an enemy threatens. What then is fear usually threatened by a friend? Then come many similar sentences. Is it not better to be dumb than to say what no one can understand? Now see why his tutor, exchanging pleas for plows, has given to him in the public domain of the Roman people 2,000 acres of land in the Leotine district, exempt from all taxes for making a stupid man still stupider at the public expense. However, perhaps these are trifling matters. I ask now, why all on a sudden he became so gentle to the Senate after having been so fierce in his edicts? For what was the object of threatening Lucius Cassius, a most fearless tribune of the people and a most virtuous and loyal citizen with death if he came to the Senate, of expelling Decimus Caiophalanus, a man thoroughly attached to the Republic from the Senate by violence and threats of death, of interdicting Titus Canuteus, by whom he had been repeatedly and deservedly harassed by most legitimate attacks, not only from the temple itself, but from all approach to it? What was the resolution of the Senate which he was afraid that they would stop by the interposition of their veto? That, I suppose, respecting the supplication in honor of Marcus Lepidus, a most illustrious man, certainly there was a great danger of our hindering an ordinary compliment to a man on whom we were everyday thinking of conferring some extraordinary honor. However, that he might not appear to have no reason at all for ordering the Senate to meet, he was on the point of bringing forward some motion about the Republic when the news of the Fourth Legion came, which entirely bewildered him and hastening to flee away. He took a division on the resolution for decreeing this supplication, though such a proceeding had never been heard of before. But what a setting out was his after this. What a journey when he was in the robe as a general. How did he shun all eyes in the light of day, in the city, in the forum? How miserable was his flight? How shameful, how infamous! Splendid, too, were the decrees of the Senate passed on the evening of that very day. Very religiously solemn was the allotment of the provinces, and heavenly indeed was the opportunity when everyone got exactly what he thought most desirable. You are acting admirably, therefore, O tribunes of the people, in bringing forward a motion about the protection of the Senate and councils. And most deservedly are we all bound to feel and to prove you the greatest gratitude for your conduct, for how can we be free from fear and danger while menaced by covetousness and audacity? And as for that ruined and desperate man, what more hostile decision could be passed upon him than has already been passed by his own friends? His most intimate friend, a man connected with me, too, Lucius Lentulis, and also Publius Nassau, a man destitute of covetousness, have shown that they think that they have no provinces assigned to them, and that the allotments of Antonius are invalid. Lucius Philippus, a man thoroughly worthy of his father and grandfather and ancestors, has done the same. The same is the opinion of Marcus Turanius, a man of the greatest integrity and purity of life. The same is the conduct of Publius Opius, and those very men who, influenced by their friendship for Marcus Antonius, have attributed to him more power than they would perhaps really approve of. Marcus Piso, my own connection, a most admirable man and virtuous citizen, and Marcus Vahilius, a man of equal respectability, have both declared that they would obey the authority of the Senate. Why should I speak of Lucius Sinna, whose extraordinary integrity, proved under many trying circumstances, makes the glory of his present admirable conduct less remarkable? He has altogether disregarded the province assigned to him, and so has Cassius Cestius, a man of great and firm mind. Who are there left then to be delighted with this heaven-sent allotment? Lucius Antonius and Marcus Antonius, oh, happy pair, for there is nothing that they have wished for more. Gaius Antonius has Macedonia, happy too is he, for he is constantly talking about this province. Gaius Cavicius has Africa, nothing can be more fortunate, for he has not only just departed from Africa, and as if he had divine that he should return, has left two lieutenants at Utica. Then Marcus Ickius has Sicily, and Quintus Cassius Spain. I do not know what to suspect. I fancy the lots which assigned these two provinces were not quite so carefully attended to by the gods. Oh, Gaius Caesar, I am speaking of the young man, what safety have you brought to the Republic? How unforeseen has it been? How sudden? For if he did these things when flying, what would he have done when he was pursuing? In truth he had said in a harangue that he would be the guardian of the city, and that he would keep his army at the gates of the city until the 1st of May. What a fine guardian, as the proverb goes, is the wolf of the sheep. Would Antonius have been the guardian of the city, or its plunderer or destroyer? He said too that he would come into the city and go out as he pleased. What more need I say? Did he not say in the hearing of all the people while sitting in front of the temple of Castor that no one should remain alive but the conqueror? On this day, O conscript fathers, for the first time after a long interval, do we plant our foot and take possession of liberty, liberty of which, as long as I could be, I was not the only defender, but even the savior. But when I could not do so, I rested, and I bore the misfortunes and misery of that period without objectness and not without some dignity. But as for this foul monster, who could endure him? And how could anyone endure him? What is there in Antonius except lust and cruelty and wantonness and audacity? Of these materials he is wholly made up. There is in him nothing ingenuous, nothing moderate, nothing modest, nothing virtuous. Wherefore, since the matter has come to such a crisis that the question is whether he is to make atonement to the Republic for his crimes or are we to become slaves? Let us at last, I beseech you by the immortal gods, O conscript fathers, adopt our father's courage and our father's virtue, so as either to recover the liberty belonging to the Roman name and race or else to prefer death to slavery. We have borne and endured many things which ought not to be endured in a free city. Some of us out of a hope of recovering our freedom, some from too great a fondness for life. But if we have submitted to those things, which necessity and a sort of force which may seem almost to have been put on us by destiny have compelled us to endure, though in point of fact have we not endured them? Are we also to bear with the most shameful and human tyranny of this profligate robber? What will he do in his passion if ever he has the power? Who, when he was not able to show his anger against anyone, has been the enemy of all good men? What will he not dare to do when victorious? Who, without having gained any victory, has committed such crimes as those since the death of Caesar? Has emptied his well-filled house? Has pillaged his gardens? Has transferred to his own mansion all their ornaments? Has sought to make his death a pretext for slaughter and conflagration? Who, while he has carried two or three resolutions of the Senate which have been advantageous to the Republic, has made everything else subservient to his own acquisition of gain and plunder? Who has put up exemptions and annuities to sale? Who has released cities from obligations? Who has removed whole provinces from subjugation to the Roman Empire? Who has restored exiles? Who has passed forged laws in the name of Caesar? And has continued to forge decrees engraved on brass and fixed up in the capital? And has set up in his own house a domestic market for all things of that sort? Who has imposed laws on the Roman people? And who, with armed troops and guards, has excluded both the people and the magistrates from the Forum? Who has filled the Senate with armed men? And has introduced armed men into the Temple of Concord when he was holding a Senate there? Who ran down to Brindusium to meet the legions and then murdered all the Centurions in them who were well-affected to the Republic? Who endeavored to come to Rome with his army to accomplish our massacre and the utter destruction of the city? And he, now that he has been prevented from succeeding in this attempt by the wisdom and forces of Caesar and the unanimity of the veterans and valor of the legions, even now that his fortunes are desperate does not diminish his audacity. Nor, mad as he is, does he cease proceeding into his headlong career of fury. He is leading his mutilated army into Gaul with one legion and that too wavering in its fidelity to him. And he is waiting for his brother Lucius as he cannot find anyone more nearly like himself than him. But now what slaughter is this man who has become a captain instead of a matador, a general instead of a gladiator making, wherever he sets his foot? He destroys stores, he slays the flocks and herds and all the cattle wherever he finds them. His soldiers revel in their spoil and he himself in order to imitate his brother drowns himself in wine. Fields are laid waste, villas are plundered, matrons, virgins, well-born boys are carried off and given up to the soldiery and Marcus Antonius has done exactly the same wherever he has led his army. Will you open your gates to these most infamous brothers? Will you ever admit them into the city? Will you not rather, now that the opportunity is offered to you, now that you have generals ready and the minds of the soldiers eager for the service and all the Roman people, unanimous and all Italy excited with the desire to recover its liberty, will you not, I say, avail yourself to the kindness of the immortal gods? You will never have an opportunity if you neglect this one. He will be hemmed in the rear, in the front and in the flank if he wants enters gall. Nor will it be attacked by arms alone but by our decrees also. Mighty is the authority, mighty is the name of the Senate when all its members are inspired by the one and the same resolution. Do you not see how the forum is crowded? How the Roman people is on tiptoe with the hope of recovering its liberty, which now beholding us after a long interval meeting here in numbers hopes too that we are also met in freedom. It was an expectation of this day that I avoided the wicked army of Marcus Antonius at a time when he, while invading against me, was not aware for what an occasion I was reserving myself and my strength. If at that time I had chosen to reply to him while he was seeking to begin the massacre with me, I should not now be able to consult the welfare of the Republic. But now that I've had this opportunity, I will never, O conscript fathers, neither by day nor by night cease considering what ought to be thought concerning the liberty of the Roman people and concerning your dignity. And whatever ought to be planned or done, I not only will never shrink from what I will offer myself for and beg to have entrusted to me. This is what I did before while it was in my power. When it was no longer in my power to do so, I did nothing. But now it is not only in my power, but it is absolutely necessary for me unless we prefer being slaves to fighting with all of our strength and courage to avoid being slaves. The immortal gods have given us these protectors, Caesar for the city, Bruges for Gaul, for if he had been able to oppress the city, we must have become slaves at once. If he had been able to get possession of Gaul, then it would not have been long before every good man must have perished and all the rest had been enslaved. Now then, that this opportunity is afforded to you, O conscript fathers, I entreat you in the name of the immortal gods, seize upon it and recollect at last that you are the chief men of the most honorable council on the face of the earth. Give a token to the Roman people that your wisdom shall not fail the Republic, since that too professes that its valor shall never desert it either. There is no need for my warning you. There is no one so foolish as to not perceive that if we go to sleep over this opportunity, we shall have to endure tyranny, which will not only be cruel and haughty, but also ignominious and flagitious. You know the insolence of Antonius. You know his friends. You know his whole household. To be slaves to lustful, wanton, debauched, profligate, drunken gamblers is the extremity of misery combined with the extremity of infamy. And if now, but may the immortal gods avert the omen, that worst of fate shall befall the Republic. Then as brave gladiators take care to perish with honor, let us too, who are the chief men of all the countries and all the nations, take care to fall with dignity rather than to live as slaves with ignominy. There is nothing more detestable than disgrace, nothing more shameful than enslavery. We have been born to glory and to liberty. Let us either preserve them or die with dignity. Too long have we concealed what we have felt, now at length it is revealed. Everyone has plainly shown what are his feelings to both sides and what are his inclinations. There are impious citizens, measured by the love I bear my country, too many, but in proportion to the multitude of well-affected ones, very few. And the immortal gods have given the Republic an incredible opportunity and a chance for destroying them. For in addition to the defenses which we already have, there will soon be added consuls of consummate prudence and virtue and concord, who have already deliberated and pondered for many months on the freedom of the Roman people. With these men for our advisors and leaders, with the gods assisting us, with ourselves using all vigilance and taking great precautions for the future, and with the Roman people acting with unanimity, we shall indeed be free in a short time, and the recollection of our present slavery will make liberty sweeter. Moved by these considerations, since the tribunal of the people have brought forth a motion to ensure that the Senate shall be able to meet in safety on the 1st of January, and that we may be able to deliver our sentiments on the general welfare of the state with freedom, I give my note that Gaius Pansa and Allus Herschius, the consuls-elect, do take care that the Senate be enabled to meet in safety on the 1st of January. And as an edict has been published by Decimus Brutus, Imperator and Consul-Elect, I vote that the Senate thinks that Decimus Brutus, Imperator and Consul deserves excellently well of the Republic. In so much as he is upholding the authority of the Senate and freedom and empire of the Roman people, and he is also retaining the province of Gallia Quiterior, a province full of the most virtuous and brave men, and of citizens most devoted to the Republic and his army. In obedience to the Senate, I vote that the Senate judges that he and his army and the municipalities and colonies of the Province of Gaul have acted and are acting properly and regularly, and in a matter advantageous to the Republic. And the Senate thinks that it will be for the general interest of the Republic that the provinces which are at present occupied by Decimus Brutus and Lucius Plancus, both Imperators and Consuls-Elect, and also by the officers who are in command of the provinces shall continue to be held by them in accordance with the provisions of the Julian Law till each of these officers has a successor appointed by a resolution of the Senate, and they shall take care to maintain those provinces and armies in obedience to the Senate and people of Rome, and as a defense to the Republic. And since, by the exertions and valor and wisdom of Gaia Caesar, and by the admirable unanimity of the veteran soldiers who, obeying his authority, have been and are a protection to the Republic, the Roman people has been defended and is at the present time being defended from the most serious dangers. And as the Martial Legion has a camped at Alba in a municipal town of the greatest loyalty and courage and has devoted itself to the support and authority of the Senate, and of the freedom of the Roman people, and as the fourth legion, behaving with equal wisdom and with the same virtue under the command of Lucius Ignatuelius, the quaister and illustrious citizen has defended and is still defending the authority of the Senate and freedom of the Roman people. I give my vote that it is and shall be an object of anxious care to the Senate to pay due honor and to show due gratitude to them for their exceeding services to the Republic. And that the senators hereby orders that when Gaius Ponsa and Aulus Herschus, the consuls-elect have entered on their office, they take the earliest opportunity of consulting this body on these manners as shall see to them expedient for the Republic and worthy of their own integrity and loyalty. And of the third, Philippic, section four of the 14 orations against Marcus Antonius called Philippics. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Philippics by Marcus Tullius Cicero. The fourth, Philippic, the argument. After delivering the preceding speech in the Senate, Cicero proceeded to the forum where he delivered the following speech to the people to give them the information of what had been done. The great numbers in which you are here met this day, O Romans, and this assembly, greater than it seems to me I ever remember, inspires me with both an exceeding eagerness to defend the Republic and with a great hope of reestablishing it. Although my courage indeed has never failed, what has been unfavorable is the time and the moment that has appeared to show any dawn of light I at once have been the leader in the defense of your liberty. And if I had attempted to have done so before, I should not be able to do so now. For this day, O Romans, that you may not think it is but a trifling business in which we have been engaged, the foundations have been laid for future actions. For the Senate has no longer been content with styling Antonius and enemy in words, but it is shown by actions that it thinks him won. And now I am more elated still because you too with such great unanimity and with such a clamor have sanctioned our declaration that he is an enemy. And indeed, O Romans, it is impossible, but either the man must be impious to have levied armies against the consul or else he must be an enemy against whom we have rightly taken arms. And this doubt, the Senate has this day removed, not indeed that there really was any, but it has prevented the possibility of there being any. Gaius Caesar, who has upheld and is still upholding the Republic and your freedom by his seal and wisdom and yet the expense of his patrimonial estate has been complimented with the highest praises of the Senate. I praise you. Yes, I praise you greatly, O Romans, when you follow with the most grateful minds the name of that most illustrious youth, or rather boy, for his actions belong to immortality, the name of youth only to his age. I can recollect many things. I have heard many things. I have read many things, but in the whole history of the whole world I have never known anything like this. For when we were weighed down with slavery, when the evil was daily increasing, when we had no defense, while we were in dread of the pernicious and fatal return of Marcus Antonius from Brindisium, this young man adopted the design which none of us had ventured to hope for, which beyond all question none of us were acquainted with, of raising an invincible army of his father's soldiers and so hindering the frenzy of Antonius, spurred on as it was by the most inhuman councils from the power of doing mischief to the Republic. For who is there who does not see clearly that if Caesar had not prepared an army, the return of Antonius must have been accompanied by our destruction? For in truth he had returned in such a state of mind, burning with hatred of all of you, stained with the blood of the Roman citizens whom he had murdered at Suessa and at Brindisium, that he thought nothing but the utter destruction of the Republic. And what protection could have been found for your safety and for your liberty if the army of Gaius Caesar had not been composed of the bravest of his father's soldiers? And with respect to his praises and honors, and he is entitled to divine and everlasting honors for his god-bike and undying services, the Senate has just consented to my proposals and has decreed that a motion be submitted to it at the earliest opportunity. Now who is there who does not see by this decree and Antonius has been a judge to be an enemy? For what else can we call him when the Senate decides that extraordinary honors are to be devised for those men who are leading armies against him? What did not the Martial Legion, which appears to me by some divine permission to have derived its name from that God from whom we have heard that the Roman people descended, decided by its resolutions that Antonius was an enemy before the Senate had come to any resolution? For if he is not an enemy, we must inevitably decide that those men who have deserted the consul are enemies. Admirably and seasonably, O Romans, have your cries sanction the noble conduct of the men of the Martial Legion who have come over to the authority of the Senate, to your liberty and to the whole republic and have abandoned that enemy and robber, that parasite of his country. Nor did they display only their spirit and courage in doing this, but their caution and wisdom also. They encamped at Alba in a city convenient, fortified, near, full of brave men and loyal and virtuous citizens. The fourth Legion, imitating the virtue of this Martial Legion, under the leadership of Lucius Ignatulius, whom the Senate deservedly praised a little while ago, have also joined the army of Gaius Caesar. What more adverse decisions, O Marcus Antonius, can you want? Caesar, who has levied an army against you, is extolled to the skies. The legions are praised in the most complimentary language which have abandoned you, which were sent into Italy by you, in which, if you had chosen to be a consul, rather than an enemy, were wholly devoted to you. And the fearless and honest decision of those legions is confirmed by the Senate, is approved of by the whole Roman people, unless, indeed, you today, O Romans, decide that Antonius is a consul and not an enemy. I thought, O Romans, that you did think as you show you do. What? Do you suppose that the municipal towns and the colonies and the prefectures have any other opinion? All men are agreed with one mind, so that everyone who wishes the state to be saved must take up every sort of arms against that pestilence. What, I should like to know, does the opinion of Decimus Brutus, O Romans, which you can gather from his edict, which this day reached us, appear to anyone deserving of being lightly esteemed? Rightly and truly, do you say no, O Romans, for the family and name of Brutus has been, by some, a special kindness and liberality of the immortal gods, given to the Republic for the purpose of at one time establishing and at another of recovering the liberty of the Roman people? What, then, has been the opinion which Decimus Brutus has formed of Marcus Antonius? He excludes him from his province. He opposes him with his army. He rouses all gall to war, which is already used of its own accord, and in consequence of the judgment, which has itself formed. If Antonius be consul, Brutus is an enemy. Can we then doubt which of the alternatives is the fact? And just so, you, now, with one mind and with one voice affirm that you entertain no doubt, so did the Senate just now decree that Decimus Brutus deserved excellently well at the Republic in so much as he was defending the authority of the Senate and the liberty and empire of the Roman people, defending it against whom? Why, against an enemy? For what other sort of defense deserves praise? In the next place, the province of Gaul is praised and deservedly complimented in the most honorable language by the Senate for resisting Antonius. But if that province considered him the consul and still refused to receive him, it would be guilty of great wickedness for all the provinces belong to the consul by right. And are bound to obey him. Decimus Brutus, imperator and consul-elect, a citizen born for the Republic, denies that he is consul. Gaul denies it, all Italy denies it, the Senate denies it, you deny it. Who then thinks that he is consul, except a few robbers? Although they themselves do not believe what they say, nor is it possible that they should differ from the judgment of all men, in pious and desperate men, though they be. But the hope of plunder and booty blinds their minds, men whom no gifts of money, no allotment of land, not even that interminable auction has satisfied, who have proposed to themselves the city, the properties and fortunes of all citizens is their booty, and who, as long as there is something for them to seize and carry off, think that nothing will be wanting to them. Among whom Marcus Antonius, whole ye immortal gods, avert I pray you and to face this omen, has promised to divide the city. May things rather happen, O Romans, as you pray that they should, and may the chastisement of this frenzy fall upon him and on his friends. And indeed, I feel sure that it will be so, for I think that at present, not only men, but the immortal gods have all united together to preserve this republic. For if the immortal gods foreshow us the future by means of portents and prodigies, then it has been openly revealed to us that punishment is near at hand to him and liberty to us. Or is it impossible for such unanimity on the part of all men to exist without the inspiration of the gods? In either case, how can we doubt as to the inclinations of the heavenly deities? It only remains, O Romans, for you to persevere in the sentiments which you at present display. I will, therefore, as commanders are in the habit of doing when their army is ready for battle, who, although they see their soldiers ready to engage, still address an exhortation to them, and, in like matter, I will exhort you who are already eager and burning to recover your liberty. You have not. You have not, indeed, O Romans, to war against an enemy with whom it is possible to make peace on any terms whatever, for he does not now desire your slavery as he did before, but he is angry now and thirsts for your blood. No sport appears more delightful to him than bloodshed and slaughter, and the massacre of citizens before his eyes. You have not, O Romans, to deal with a wicked and profligate man, but with an unnatural and savage beast, and, since he has fallen into a well, let him be buried in it, for if he escapes out of it there will be no inhumanity of torture which it will be possible to avoid. But he is at present hemmed in, pressed, and besieged by those troops which we already have, and will soon still more by those which, in a few days, the new councils will levy. Apply yourselves then to this business, as you are doing. Never have you shown greater unanimity in any cause. Never have you been so cordially united with the Senate, and no wonder, for the question now is not in what conditions are we to live, but whether we are to live at all, or to perish with torture and ignominy. Although nature, indeed, has appointed death for all men, but valor is accustomed to ward off any cruelty or disgrace in death, and that is an inalienable possession of the Roman race and name. Preserve, I beseech you, O Romans, this attribute which your ancestors have left you as a sort of inheritance. Although all other things are uncertain, fleeting, and transitory, virtue alone is planted firm with very deep roots. It cannot be undermined by any violence. It can never be moved from its position. Buy it, your ancestors first subdued the whole of Italy, then destroyed Carthage, overthrew Numantia, reduced the most mighty kings and most warlike nations under the dominion of this empire. And your ancestors, O Romans, had to deal with an enemy who had also a republic, a senate house, a treasury, harmonious and united citizens, and with whom, if fortune had so wielded it, there might have been peace and treaties on settled principles. But this enemy of yours is attacking your republic, but has none himself, is eager to destroy the senate, that is to say, the council of the whole world, but he has no public council himself. He has exhausted your treasury and has none of his own. For how can this man be supported by the unanimity of his citizens who has no city at all? And what principle of peace can there be with any man who is full of incredible cruelty and destitute of faith? The whole then of the contest, O Romans, which is now before the Roman people, the conqueror of all nations, is with an assassin, a robber, a Spartacus. For all his habitual boast of being like a Catalina, he is equal to him in wickedness, but inferior in energy. He, though he has no army, rapidly levied one. This man has lost that very army which he had. As therefore, by my diligence, and by the authority of the senate, and your own zeal and valor, you crushed Catalina. You will soon hear that this infamous piratical enterprise of Antonius has been put down by your perfect and unexampled harmony with the senate. And by the good fortune and valor of your armies and generals. I, for my part, as far as I am able to labor and to effect anything by my care and exertions and diligence and authority and counsel, will admit nothing that I may think serviceable to your liberty. Nor could I omit it without wickedness after all your most ample and honorable kindness to me. However, on this day, encouraged by the action of a most gallant man, and one most firmly attached to you, Marcus Servilius, whom you see before you, and his colleagues also, most distinguished men, and most virtuous citizens, and partly too, by my advice and example, we have, for the first time after a long interval, fired up again with a hope of liberty. End of the Fourth Philippic.