Cicero: ORATORIA

[1][I] Diuturni silenti, patres conscripti, quo eram his temporibus usus—non timore aliquo, sed partim dolore, partim verecundia—finem hodiernus dies attulit, idemque initium quae vellem quaeque sentirem meo pristino more dicendi. Tantam enim mansuetudinem, tam inusitatam inauditamque clementiam, tantum in summa potestate rerum omnium modum, tam denique incredibilem sapientiam ac paene divinam, tacitus praeterire nullo modo possum.

[1][1] Of a long silence, Conscript Fathers, which I have in these times employed—not from any fear, but partly from dolor, partly from verecundia—this day has brought an end, and the same a beginning of speaking, in my former manner, what I would wish and what I feel. For such great mansuetude, so unusual and unheard-of clemency, so great moderation in the highest potestas of all things, so, finally, incredible and almost divine wisdom, I am by no means able to pass by in silence.

[2]M. enim Marcello vobis, patres conscripti, reique publicae reddito, non illius solum, sed etiam meam vocem et auctoritatem et vobis et rei publicae conservatam ac restitutam puto. Dolebam enim, patres conscripti, et vehementer angebar, virum talem, cum in eadem causa in qua ego fuisset, non in eadem esse fortuna; nec mihi persuadere poteram, nec fas esse ducebam, versari me in nostro vetere curriculo, illo aemulo atque imitatore studiorum ac laborum meorum, quasi quodam socio a me et comite distracto. Ergo et mihi meae pristinae vitae consuetudinem, C. Caesar, interclusam aperuisti, et his omnibus ad bene de [omni] re publica sperandum quasi signum aliquod sustulisti.

[2] For with M. Marcellus restored to you, conscript fathers, and to the commonwealth, I think that not his voice and authority alone, but also my own voice and authority have been preserved and restored both to you and to the commonwealth. For I was grieving, conscript fathers, and was vehemently distressed, that a man of such a sort, since he had been in the same cause in which I was, was not in the same fortune; nor could I persuade myself, nor did I hold it right, to move in our old course, with that emulator and imitator of my pursuits and labors, as if some partner and companion had been torn from me. Therefore both for me, Gaius Caesar, you have opened up the custom of my former life, which had been shut off, and for all these men you have raised, as it were, some signal for hoping well concerning the [entire] republic.

[3] Intellectum est enim mihi quidem in multis, et maxime in me ipso, sed paulo ante [in] omnibus, cum M. Marcellum senatui reique publicae concessisti, commemoratis praesertim offensionibus, te auctoritatem huius ordinis dignitatemque rei publicae tuis vel doloribus vel suspicionibus anteferre. Ille quidem fructum omnis ante actae vitae hodierno die maximum cepit, cum summo consensu senatus, tum iudicio tuo gravissimo et maximo. Ex quo profecto intellegis quanta in dato beneficio sit laus, cum in accepto sit tanta gloria.

[3] For it has been understood by me indeed in many instances, and most of all in myself, but a little earlier by everyone, when you granted M. Marcellus to the senate and to the commonwealth, especially after the offenses had been recalled, that you prefer the authority of this order and the dignity of the republic to your own pains or suspicions. He indeed has reaped on this day the greatest fruit of his whole life previously lived, both by the highest consensus of the senate and by your judgment most weighty and greatest. From which you surely understand how great the praise is in a benefit given, since in one received there is such great glory.

[4] Est vero fortunatus ille, cuius ex salute non minor paene ad omnis quam ad ipsum ventura sit laetitia pervenerit. Quod quidem ei merito atque optimo iure contigit. Quis enim est illo aut nobilitate aut probitate aut optimarum artium studio aut innocentia aut ullo laudis genere praestantior?

[4] He is indeed fortunate, the man whose safety has brought a joy that is about to come to almost everyone no less than to himself. Which indeed has befallen him deservedly and by the best right. For who is more preeminent than he in nobility, in probity, in zeal for the best arts, in innocence, or in any kind of praise?

[II] Nullius tantum flumen est ingeni, nullius dicendi aut scribendi tanta vis, tanta copia, quae non dicam exornare, sed enarrare, C. Caesar, res tuas gestas possit. Tamen adfirmo, et hoc pace dicam tua, nullam in his esse laudem ampliorem quam eam quam hodierno die consecutus es.

[2] No one’s genius has so great a flood, no power of speaking or writing so great, such abundance, as could—not to say adorn, but even narrate—Gaius Caesar, your deeds accomplished. Yet I affirm, and I say this with your leave, that there is among these no praise more ample than that which you have attained on this day.

[5] Soleo saepe ante oculos ponere, idque libenter crebris usurpare sermonibus, omnis nostrorum imperatorum, omnis exterarum gentium potentissimorumque populorum, omnis clarissimorum regum res gestas, cum tuis nec contentionum magnitudine nec numero proeliorum nec varietate regionum nec celeritate conficiendi nec dissimilitudine bellorum posse conferri; nec vero disiunctissimas terras citius passibus cuiusquam potuisse peragrari, quam tuis non dicam cursibus, sed victoriis lustratae sunt.

[5] I am accustomed often to set this before my eyes, and I gladly employ it in frequent discourses: that all the achievements of our imperators, all those of foreign nations and of the most powerful peoples, all of the most illustrious kings, cannot be compared with yours either in the magnitude of contests, nor in the number of battles, nor in the variety of regions, nor in the speed of bringing them to completion, nor in the dissimilarity of the wars; nor indeed could the most far-sundered lands have been traversed more swiftly by anyone’s steps than they have been— I will not say by your courses, but— by your victories— surveyed.

[6] Quae quidem ego nisi ita magna esse fatear, ut ea vix cuiusquam mens aut cogitatio capere possit, amens sim: sed tamen sunt alia maiora. Nam bellicas laudes solent quidam extenuare verbis, easque detrahere ducibus, communicare cum multis, ne propriae sint imperatorum. Et certe in armis militum virtus, locorum opportunitas, auxilia sociorum, classes, commeatus multum iuvant: maximam vero partem quasi suo iure Fortuna sibi vindicat, et quicquid prospere gestum est, id paene omne ducit suum.

[6] These things indeed, unless I were to admit them to be so great that scarcely anyone’s mind or cogitation can grasp them, I should be out of my mind: yet nevertheless there are other things greater. For certain men are accustomed to attenuate by words the military praises, and to detract them from the commanders, to communicate them with many, lest they be the generals’ own. And certainly, in arms, the valor of the soldiers, the opportuneness of places, the auxiliaries of allies, fleets, provisions help much: but Fortune claims the greatest share for herself, as if by her own right, and she deems almost the whole of whatever has been prosperously achieved to be hers.

[7] At vero huius gloriae, C. Caesar, quam es paulo ante adeptus, socium habes neminem: totum hoc quantumcumque est (quod certe maximum est) totum est, inquam, tuum. Nihil sibi ex ista laude centurio, nihil praefectus, nihil cohors, nihil turma decerpit: quin etiam illa ipsa rerum humanarum domina, Fortuna, in istius societatem gloriae se non offert: tibi cedit; tuam esse totam et propriam fatetur. Numquam enim temeritas cum sapientia commiscetur, neque ad consilium casus admittitur.

[7] But in truth, of this glory, Gaius Caesar, which you a little before have attained, you have no associate: this whole thing, however great it is (which certainly is very great), is, I say, wholly yours. Nothing from that praise does the centurion, nothing the prefect, nothing the cohort, nothing the troop, snatch away for himself: nay, even Fortune herself, the mistress of human affairs, does not offer herself into a partnership of that glory: she yields to you; she confesses it to be wholly and properly yours. For temerity is never commingled with wisdom, nor is chance admitted to counsel.

[8][III] Domuisti gentis immanitate barbaras, multitudine innumerabilis, locis infinitas, omni copiarum genere abundantis: sed tamen ea vicisti, quae et naturam et condicionem ut vinci possent habebant. Nulla est enim tanta vis, quae non ferro et viribus debilitari frangique possit. Animum vincere, iracundiam cohibere, victoriam temperare, adversarium nobilitate, ingenio, virtute praestantem non modo extollere iacentem, sed etiam amplificare eius pristinam dignitatem, haec qui fecit, non ego eum cum summis viris comparo, sed simillimum deo iudico.

[8][3] You have tamed tribes barbarian in savagery, innumerable in multitude, infinite in locales, abounding in every genus of resources: yet nevertheless you conquered those things which had both the nature and the condition to be conquered. For no force is so great that it cannot be debilitated and broken by iron and strength. To conquer the spirit, to restrain anger, to temper victory, not only to raise up an adversary excelling in nobility, genius, and virtue as he lies prostrate, but even to amplify his former dignity—he who has done these things, I do not compare him with the highest men, but I judge him most similar to a god.

[9] Itaque, C. Caesar, bellicae tuae laudes celebrabuntur illae quidem non solum nostris, sed paene omnium gentium litteris atque linguis, nec ulla umquam aetas de tuis laudibus conticescet. Sed tamen eius modi res nescio quo modo etiam cum leguntur, obstrepi clamore militum videntur et tubarum sono. At vero cum aliquid clementer, mansuete, iuste, moderate, sapienter factum—in iracundia praesertim, quae est inimica consilio, et in victoria, quae natura insolens et superba est—audimus aut legimus, quo studio incendimur, non modo in gestis rebus, sed etiam in fictis, ut eos saepe, quos numquam vidimus, diligamus!

[9] And so, Gaius Caesar, your warlike praises will be celebrated indeed not only in our letters, but in the letters and tongues of almost all nations, nor will any age ever fall silent about your praises. But yet things of that sort somehow, even when they are read, seem to be drowned out by the clamor of the soldiers and the sound of the trumpets. But truly, when something has been done with clemency, mansuetude, justice, moderation, wisdom—especially in irascibility, which is inimical to counsel, and in victory, which by nature is insolent and proud—we hear or read it, with what zeal we are inflamed, not only by deeds actually done, but even by fictions, so that we often love those whom we have never seen!

[10] Te vero, quem praesentem intuemur, cuius mentem sensusque et os cernimus, ut, quicquid belli fortuna reliquum rei publicae fecerit, id esse salvum velis, quibus laudibus efferemus? quibus studiis prosequemur? qua benevolentia complectemur?

[10] But you, whom we behold present, whose mind and senses and countenance we discern, since you will that whatever the fortune of war has left remaining to the republic be safe, with what praises shall we extol you? with what zeal shall we pursue you? with what benevolence shall we embrace you?

Parietes (me dius fidius) ut mihi videtur huius curiae tibi gratias agere gestiunt, quod brevi tempore futura sit illa auctoritas in his maiorum suorum et suis sedibus. [IV] Equidem cum C. Marcelli, viri optimi et commemorabili pietate praediti, lacrimas modo vobiscum viderem, omnium Marcellorum meum pectus memoria obfudit, quibus tu etiam mortuis, M. Marcello conservato, dignitatem suam reddidisti, nobilissimamque familiam iam ad paucos redactam paene ab interitu vindicasti.

The walls (by my faith), as it seems to me, of this curia are eager to give thanks to you, because in a short time that authority will be in these seats of their ancestors and their own. [4] Indeed, when I just now saw with you the tears of Gaius Marcellus, a most excellent man and endowed with memorable piety, the memory of all the Marcelli flooded my heart, to whom, even though they are dead, with Marcus Marcellus preserved, you have restored their dignity, and you have rescued from destruction the most noble family, now reduced to a few, almost from extinction.

[11] Hunc tu igitur diem tuis maximis et innumerabilibus gratulationibus iure antepones. Haec enim res unius est propria C. Caesaris: ceterae duce te gestae magnae illae quidem, sed tamen multo magnoque comitatu. Huius autem rei tu idem es et dux et comes: quae quidem tanta est, ut tropaeis et monumentis tuis adlatura finem sit aetas,—nihil est enim opere et manu factum, quod non [aliquando] conficiat et consumat ventustas:

[11] You therefore will by right put this day before your greatest and innumerable gratulations. For this achievement is the peculiar property of Gaius Caesar: the other deeds, accomplished with you as leader, were great indeed, yet nevertheless with a large and very great retinue. In this matter, however, you are both leader and companion: and it is so great that age will be about to bring an end to your trophies and monuments,—for there is nothing wrought by work and by hand which age does not [at some time] finish off and consume:

[12] at haec [tua iustitia et lenitas animi] florescet cotidie magis, ita ut quantum tuis operibus diuturnitas detrahet, tantum adferat laudibus. Et ceteros quidem omnis victores bellorum civilium iam ante aequitate et misericordia viceras: hodierno vero die te ipsum vicisti. Vereor ut hoc, quod dicam, perinde intellegi possit auditum atque ipse cogitans sentio: ipsam victoriam vicisse videris, cum ea quae illa erat adepta victis remisisti.

[12] but this [your justice and lenity of spirit] will blossom more every day, such that as much as duration will detract from your deeds, so much will it bring to your praises. And indeed you had already surpassed all the other victors of civil wars before by equity and mercy; but on this very day you have conquered yourself. I fear that this which I say cannot be understood when heard as fully as I myself, reflecting, feel: you seem to have conquered Victory herself, since you remitted to the conquered those things which she had acquired.

Nam cum ipsius victoriae condicione omnes victi occidissemus, clementiae tuae iudicio conservati sumus. Recte igitur unus invictus es, a quo etiam ipsius victoriae condicio visque devicta est.

For since by the very condition of victory we all—the conquered—would have been slain, by the judgment of your clemency we have been preserved. Rightly, therefore, you alone are unconquered, by whom even the very condition and force of victory itself has been conquered.

[13][V] Atque hoc C. Caesaris iudicium, patres conscripti, quam late pateat attendite. Omnes enim, qui ad illa arma fato sumus nescio quo rei publicae misero funestoque compulsi, etsi aliqua culpa tenemur erroris humani, scelere certe liberati sumus. Nam cum M. Marcellum deprecantibus vobis rei publicae conservavit, me et mihi et item rei publicae, nullo deprecante, reliquos amplissimos viros et sibi ipsos et patriae reddidit: quorum et frequentiam et dignitatem hoc ipso in consessu videtis.

[13][V] And this judgment of Gaius Caesar, Conscript Fathers, attend how widely it extends. For all of us who were driven to those arms by some fate—I know not what—of the republic, miserable and funereal, although we are held by some blame of human error, have certainly been freed from crime. For when, with you interceding, he preserved M. Marcellus for the republic, me he restored both to myself and likewise to the republic, with no one interceding; and the remaining most distinguished men he restored both to themselves and to their fatherland: whose numbers and dignity you see in this very assembly.

Non ille hostis induxit in curiam, sed iudicavit a plerisque ignoratione potius et falso atque inani metu quam cupiditate aut crudelitate bellum esse susceptum.

He did not lead an enemy into the curia, but judged that by most the war had been undertaken rather from ignorance and from false and empty fear than from cupidity or cruelty.

[14] Quo quidem in bello semper de pace audiendum putavi, semperque dolui non modo pacem, sed etiam orationem civium pacem flagitantium repudiari. Neque enim ego illa nec ulla umquam secutus sum arma civilia; semperque mea consilia pacis et togae socia, non belli atque armorum fuerunt. Hominem sum secutus privato consilio, non publico; tantumque apud me grati animi fidelis memoria valuit, ut nulla non modo cupiditate, sed ne spe quidem, prudens et sciens tamquam ad interitum ruerem voluntarium.

[14] In that war indeed I always thought that one ought to listen about peace, and I always grieved that not only peace, but even the oration of citizens demanding peace, was being repudiated. For I have followed neither those nor any civil arms ever; and always my counsels were allies of peace and of the toga, not of war and arms. I followed a man by private counsel, not public; and so greatly with me did the faithful memory of a grateful mind prevail, that with no desire—not even with hope—being prudent and knowing, I rushed, as it were, to a voluntary destruction.

[15] Quod quidem meum consilium minime obscurum fuit. Nam et in hoc ordine integra re multa de pace dixi, et in ipso bello eadem etiam cum capitis mei periculo sensi. Ex quo nemo iam erit tam iniustus existimator rerum, qui dubitet quae Caesaris de bello voluntas fuerit, cum pacis auctores conservandos statim censuerit, ceteris fuerit iratior.

[15] Which indeed was by no means an obscure counsel of mine. For both in this order, with the affair intact, I said many things about peace, and in the war itself I had the same sentiments, even at the peril of my head. Whence no one now will be so unjust an estimator of affairs as to doubt what Caesar’s will about the war was, since he judged that the authors of peace should be preserved at once, and was more wrathful toward the rest.

Atque id minus mirum fortasse tum, cum esset incertus exitus et anceps fortuna belli: qui vero victor pacis auctores diligit, is profecto declarat se maluisse non dimicare quam vincere.

And that was perhaps less to be wondered at then, when the outcome was uncertain and the fortune of the war was doubtful: but he who, as victor, cherishes the authors of peace, surely declares that he preferred not to fight rather than to conquer.

[16][VI] Atque huius quidem rei M. Marcello sum testis. Nostri enim sensus ut in pace semper, sic tum etiam in bello congruebant. Quotiens ego eum et quanto cum dolore vidi, cum insolentiam certorum hominum tum etiam ipsius victoriae ferocitatem extimescentem!

[16][6] And of this matter indeed I am a witness for M. Marcellus. For our sentiments, as in peace always, so then also in war, were congruent. How often I saw him, and with how great pain, dreading both the insolence of certain men and even the ferocity of victory itself!

Quo gratior tua liberalitas, C. Caesar, nobis, qui illa vidimus, debet esse. Non enim iam causae sunt inter se, sed victoriae comparandae.

Wherefore the more welcome your liberality, C. Caesar, ought to be to us, who saw those things. For now it is not causes that are to be compared among themselves, but victories.

[17] Vidimus tuam victoriam proeliorum exitu terminatam: gladium vagina vacuum in urbe non vidimus. Quos amisimus civis, eos Martis vis perculit, non ira victoriae; ut dubitare debeat nemo quin multos, si fieri posset, C. Caesar ab inferis excitaret, quoniam ex eadem acie conservat quos potest. Alterius vero partis nihil amplius dicam quam (id quod omnes verebamur) nimis iracundam futuram fuisse victoriam.

[17] We have seen your victory terminated by the outcome of the battles: we have not seen a sword out of its scabbard in the city. The citizens whom we have lost, them the force of Mars struck down, not the anger of victory; so that no one ought to doubt that many, if it could be done, C. Caesar would raise from the underworld, since from that same battle line he preserves those whom he can. But of the other party I will say nothing more than this—that (that which we all were fearing) the victory would have been too iracund.

[18] Quidam enim non modo armatis, sed interdum etiam otiosis minabantur; nec quid quisque sensisset, sed ubi fuisset cogitandum esse dicebant: ut mihi quidem videantur di immortales, etiam si poenas a populo Romano ob aliquod delictum expetiverunt, qui civile bellum tantum et tam luctuosum excitaverunt, vel placati iam vel satiati aliquando, omnem spem salutis ad clementiam victoris et sapientiam contulisse.

[18] Some indeed were threatening not only the armed, but sometimes even the idle; and they said that it must be considered not what each had felt, but where he had been: so that to me the immortal gods seem, even if they have exacted penalties from the Roman people on account of some delict—who have stirred up so great and so mournful a civil war—either now appeased or at some point satiated, to have transferred all hope of safety to the victor’s clemency and wisdom.

[19] Qua re gaude tuo isto tam excellenti bono, et fruere cum fortuna et gloria, tum etiam natura et moribus tuis: ex quo quidem maximus est fructus iucunditasque sapienti. Cetera cum tua recordabere, etsi persaepe virtuti, tamen plerumque felicitati tuae gratulabere: de nobis, quos in re publica tecum simul esse voluisti, quotiens cogitabis, totiens de maximis tuis beneficiis, totiens de incredibili liberalitate, totiens de singulari sapientia tua cogitabis: quae non modo summa bona, sed nimirum audebo vel sola dicere. Tantus est enim splendor in laude vera, tanta in magnitudine animi et consili dignitas, ut haec a virtute donata, cetera a fortuna commodata esse videantur.

[19] Wherefore rejoice in that so excellent good of yours, and enjoy both your fortune and your glory, and also your nature and your morals: from which indeed for the wise man the greatest fruit and delight arise. As to the rest, when you recall your own achievements, although very often you will offer congratulations to your virtue, yet for the most part you will congratulate your felicity: as for us, whom you wished to be together with you in the commonwealth, as often as you think, so often you will think of your greatest benefactions, so often of your incredible liberality, so often of your singular wisdom: which I will dare to call not only the highest goods, but indeed even the sole ones. For so great is the splendor in true praise, so great the dignity in greatness of spirit and of counsel, that these seem to have been bestowed by virtue, the others lent by fortune.

[20] Noli igitur in conservandis bonis viris defetigari—non cupiditate praesertim aliqua aut pravitate lapsis, sed opinione offici stulta fortasse, certe non improba, et specie quadam rei publicae: non enim tua culpa est si te aliqui timuerunt, contraque summa laus, quod minime timendum fuisse senserunt.

[20] Do not, therefore, grow weary in conserving good men—men not fallen, especially, through any cupidity or depravity, but by an opinion of duty, perhaps foolish, certainly not wicked, and by a certain semblance of the Republic: for it is not your fault if some have feared you, and on the contrary it is the highest praise that they perceived there was by no means anything to be feared.

[21][VII] Nunc venio ad gravissimam querelam et atrocissimam suspicionem tuam, quae non tibi ipsi magis quam cum omnibus civibus tum maxime nobis, qui a te conservati sumus, providenda est: quam etsi spero falsam esse, tamen numquam extenuabo verbis. Tua enim cautio nostra cautio est, ut si in alterutro peccandum sit, malim videri nimis timidus quam parum prudens. Sed quisnam est iste tam demens?

[21][7] Now I come to your most grave complaint and most atrocious suspicion, which must be provided for not more for yourself than both with all the citizens and most especially for us, who have been conserved by you: which, although I hope to be false, yet I will never extenuate with words. For your caution is our caution, so that, if one must err on either side, I would prefer to seem too timid rather than too little prudent. But who, pray, is that man so demented?

De tuisne? —tametsi qui magis sunt tui quam quibus tu salutem insperantibus reddidisti? —an ex hoc numero, qui una tecum fuerunt?

Of your own? —although who are more yours than those to whom you restored safety when it was unhoped-for? —or from this number, who were together with you?

Non est credibilis tantus in ullo furor, ut quo duce omnia summa sit adeptus, huius vitam non anteponat suae. An si nihil tui cogitant sceleris, cavendum est ne quid inimici? Qui?

It is not credible that there is such madness in anyone, that he would not prefer to his own the life of the man under whose leadership he has attained all the highest things. Or if none of your men are contemplating any crime against you, must we beware lest anything be done by enemies? Who?

omnes enim, qui fuerunt, aut sua pertinacia vitam amiserunt, aut tua misericordia retinuerunt; ut aut nulli supersint de inimicis, aut qui fuerunt sint amicissimi.

for all, who there were, either lost their life by their own pertinacity, or retained it by your mercy; so that either none of the enemies survive, or those who were are most friendly.

[22] Sed tamen cum in animis hominum tantae latebrae sint et tanti recessus, augeamus sane suspicionem tuam; simul enim augebimus diligentiam. Nam quis est omnium tam ignarus rerum, tam rudis in re publica, tam nihil umquam nec de sua nec de communi salute cogitans, qui non intellegat tua salute contineri suam, et ex unius tua vita pendere omnium? Equidem de te dies noctisque (ut debeo) cogitans, casus dumtaxat humanos et incertos eventus valetudinis et naturae communis fragilitatem extimesco; doleoque, cum res publica immortalis esse debeat, eam in unius mortalis anima consistere.

[22] But yet, since in the minds of men there are such great hiding-places and such great recesses, let us indeed augment your suspicion; for at the same time we shall augment diligence. For who is there of all so ignorant of affairs, so raw in the republic, so never at any time thinking either of his own or of the common safety, who does not understand that his safety is contained in yours, and that on the life of one—your life—the life of all depends? For my part, thinking of you day and night (as I ought), I dread only human chances and the uncertain events of health and the fragility of our common nature; and I grieve that, whereas the republic ought to be immortal, it consists in the soul of one mortal.

[23] Si vero ad humanos casus incertosque motus valetudinis sceleris etiam accedit insidiarumque consensio, quem deum, si cupiat, posse opitulari rei publicae credamus? [VIII] Omnia sunt excitanda tibi, C. Caesar, uni, quae iacere sentis, belli ipsius impetu, quod necesse fuit, perculsa atque prostrata: constituenda iudicia, revocanda fides, comprimendae libidines, propaganda suboles: omnia, quae dilapsa iam diffluxerunt, severis legibus vincienda sunt.

[23] But if, to the human chances and the uncertain motions of health, there is added even crime and a conspiracy of plots, what god, even if he should desire it, could we believe able to succor the commonwealth? [8] All things must be roused by you alone, Gaius Caesar, which you perceive to be lying low, smitten and prostrated by the very shock of war—which was necessary: the courts must be established, good faith/credit must be recalled, lusts must be restrained, offspring must be propagated: all things which have now slipped and flowed apart must be bound by severe laws.

[24] Non fuit recusandum in tanto civili bello, tanto animorum ardore et armorum, quin quassata res publica, quicumque belli eventus fuisset, multa perderet et ornamenta dignitatis et praesidia stabilitatis suae; multaque uterque dux faceret armatus, quae idem togatus fieri prohibuisset. Quae quidem tibi nunc omnia belli volnera sananda sunt, quibus praeter te nemo mederi potest.

[24] It was not to be refused, in so great a civil war, with so great an ardor of spirits and of arms, that the shaken commonwealth, whatever the outcome of the war might have been, would lose many things, both the ornaments of dignity and the safeguards of its stability; and many things each leader would do under arms which the same man, in the toga, would have forbidden to be done. All these wounds of war must now be healed by you, wounds to which, apart from you, no one can apply a remedy.

[25] Itaque illam tuam praeclarissimam et sapientissimam vocem invitus audivi: "Satis diu vel naturae vixi vel gloriae.'' Satis, si ita vis, fortasse naturae, addo etiam, si placet, gloriae: at, quod maximum est, patriae certe parum. Qua re omitte istam, quaeso, doctorum hominum in contemnenda morte prodentiam: noli nostro periculo esse sapiens. Saepe enim venit ad auris meas te idem istud nimis crebro dicere, tibi satis te vixisse.

[25] And so that most illustrious and most wise voice of yours I heard unwillingly: "I have lived long enough either for nature or for glory.'' Enough, if you so wish, perhaps for nature; I add also, if it pleases, for glory: but, which is the greatest, certainly too little for the fatherland. Wherefore, lay aside, I beg, that prudence of learned men in contemning death: do not be wise at our peril. For it has often come to my ears that you say that same thing too frequently, that you have lived enough for yourself.

Credo: sed tum id audirem, si tibi soli viveres, aut si tibi etiam soli natus esses. Omnium salutem civium cunctamque rem publicam res tuae gestae complexae sunt: tantum abes a perfectione maximorum operum, ut fundamenta nondum quae cogitas ieceris. Hic tu modum vitae tuae non salute rei publicae, sed aequitate animi definies?

I believe: but I would then listen to that, if you were living for yourself alone, or if you had even been born for yourself alone. Your achievements have encompassed the safety of all the citizens and the entire republic: you are so far from the perfection of the greatest works that you have not yet laid the very foundations of the things you are planning. Here will you define the measure of your life not by the safety of the republic, but by equanimity of mind?

Quid, si istud ne gloriae tuae quidem satis est? cuius te esse avidissimum, quamvis sis sapiens, non negabis.

What if that is not even sufficient for your glory? which you will not deny that you are most avid for, although you are wise.

[26] Parumne igitur, inquies, magna relinquemus? Immo vero aliis quamvis multis satis, tibi uni parum. Quicquid est enim, quamvis amplum sit, id est parum tum, cum est aliquid amplius.

[26] Are we then, you will say, going to leave too little of great things? On the contrary: for others, however many, enough; for you alone, too little. For whatever it is, however ample it may be, that is too little then, when there is something ampler.

Quod si rerum tuarum immortalium, C. Caesar, hic exitus futurus fuit, ut devictis adversariis rem publicam in eo statu relinqueres in quo nunc est, vide, quaeso, ne tua divina virtus admirationis plus sit habitura quam gloriae: si quidem gloria est inlustris ac pervagata magnorum vel in suos vel in patriam vel in omne genus hominum fama meritorum.

But if this was going to be the outcome of your immortal achievements, C. Caesar, that, with the adversaries conquered, you would leave the commonwealth in the state in which it now is, see, I pray, that your divine virtue is not going to have more of admiration than of glory: since indeed glory is the illustrious and widely-pervading fame of great merits either toward one’s own, or toward the fatherland, or toward the whole race of humankind.

[27][IX] Haec igitur tibi reliqua pars est: hic restat actus, in hoc elaborandum est, ut rem publicam constituas, eaque tu in primis summa tranquillitate et otio perfruare: tum te, si voles, cum et patriae quod debes solveris, et naturam ipsam expleveris satietate vivendi, satis diu vixisse dicito. Quid est enim [omnino] hoc ipsum diu, in quo est aliquid extremum? quod cum venit, omnis voluptas praeterita pro nihilo est quia postea nulla est futura.

[27][9] Therefore this is the remaining part for you: this act remains; in this there must be labor, that you may constitute the republic, and that you above all may enjoy it with the greatest tranquility and leisure: then you, if you will, when you have paid what you owe to your fatherland, and have fulfilled nature herself with a satiety of living, say that you have lived long enough. For what indeed is this very “long time” [altogether], in which there is some extremity? When that comes, all past pleasure is reckoned as nothing, because thereafter none will be future.

Quamquam iste tuus animus numquam his angustiis, quas natura nobis ad vivendum dedit, contentus fuit: semper immortalitatis amore flagravit.

Although that mind of yours was never content with these constraints which nature has given us for living: it has always burned with love of immortality.

[28] Nec vero haec tua vita ducenda est, quae corpore et spiritu continetur. Illa, inquam, illa vita est tua, quae vigebit memoria saeculorum omnium, quam posteritas alet, quam ipsa aeternitas semper tuebitur. Huic tu inservias, huic te ostentes oportet, quae quidem quae miretur iam pridem multa habet: nunc etiam quae laudet exspectat.

[28] Nor indeed is that to be considered your life which is contained by body and spirit. That, I say, that is your life, which will flourish in the memory of all ages, which posterity will nourish, which eternity itself will always safeguard. To this you should be in service, to this you ought to display yourself, which indeed already long since has many things to admire: now also it awaits things to praise.

Obstupescent posteri certe imperia, provincias, Rhenum, Oceanum, Nilum, pugnas innumerabilis, incredibilis victorias, monimenta, munera, triumphos audientes et legentes tuos.

Posterity will surely be stupefied, hearing and reading of your empires, provinces, the Rhine, the Ocean, the Nile, innumerable battles, incredible victories, monuments, benefactions, triumphs.

[29] Sed nisi haec urbs stabilita tuis consiliis et institutis erit, vagabitur modo tuum nomen longe atque late: sedem stabilem et domicilium certum non habebit. Erit inter eos etiam qui nascentur, sicut inter nos fuit, magna dissensio, cum alii laudibus ad caelum res tuas gestas efferent, alii fortasse aliquid requirent, idque vel maximum, nisi belli civilis incendium salute patriae restinxeris, ut illud fati fuisse videatur, hoc consili. Servi igitur eis etiam iudicibus, qui multis post saeculis de te iudicabunt, et quidem haud scio an incorruptius quam nos.

[29] But unless this city shall have been established by your counsels and institutions, your name will just wander far and wide: it will not have a stable seat and a fixed domicile. There will be, among those also who will be born, as among us there was, great dissension, since some will lift your deeds achieved to the sky with praises, others perhaps will find something lacking, and that even the greatest, unless you quench the conflagration of civil war by the salvation of the fatherland, so that that may seem to have been of fate, this of counsel. Serve therefore even those judges who many ages hence will judge about you, and indeed I hardly know whether more uncorrupted than we.

Nam et sine amore et sine cupiditate et rursus sine odio et sine invidia iudicabunt.

For both without love and without cupidity, and again without hatred and without envy, they will judge.

[30] Id autem etiam si tum ad te, ut quidam falso putant, non pertinebit, nunc certe pertinet esse te talem, ut tuas laudes obscuratura nulla umquam sit oblivio. [X] Diversae voluntates civium fuerunt, distractaeque sententiae. Non enim consiliis solum et studiis, sed armis etiam et castris dissidebamus.

[30] But this, even if then, as some falsely think, it did not pertain to you, now certainly pertains: that you be such that no oblivion will ever overshadow your praises. [X] The citizens’ wills were diverse, and their opinions torn apart. For we were at odds not only in counsels and studies, but even in arms and in camps.

Erat enim obscuritas quaedam; erat certamen inter clarissimos duces: multi dubitabant quid optimum esset, multi quid sibi expediret, multi quid deceret, non nulli etiam quid liceret.

For there was a certain obscurity; there was a contest between the most illustrious leaders: many were doubting what would be best, many what would be expedient for themselves, many what would be fitting, not a few even what would be permitted.

[31] Perfuncta res publica est hoc misero fatalique bello: vicit is, qui non fortuna inflammaret odium suum, sed bonitate leniret; neque omnis quibus iratus esset, eosdem [etiam] exsilio aut morte dignos iudicaret. Arma ab aliis posita, ab aliis erepta sunt. Ingratus est iniustusque civis, qui, armorum periculo liberatus, animum tamen retinet armatum; ut etiam ille melior sit qui in acie cecidit, qui in causa animam profudit.

[31] The commonwealth has been through this wretched and fateful war: there prevailed the one who would not inflame his hatred by fortune, but would soften it by goodness; nor did he judge all those with whom he had been angry the same [also] to be worthy of exile or death. Arms by some were laid down, from others were snatched away. Ungrateful and unjust is the citizen who, freed from the peril of arms, nevertheless retains his spirit armed; so that even he is the better who fell in the battle line, who poured out his life in the cause.

Quae enim pertinacia quibusdam, eadem aliis constantia videri potest.

For what is pertinacity to some, the same thing can seem constancy to others.

[32] Sed iam omnis fracta dissensio est armis, exstincta aequitate victoris: restat ut omnes unum velint, qui modo habent aliquid non solum sapientiae, sed etiam sanitatis. Nisi te, C. Caesar, salvo, et in ista sententia qua cum antea tum hodie vel maxime usus es manente, salvi esse non possumus. Qua re omnes te, qui haec salva esse volumus, et hortamur et obsecramus, ut vitae tuae et saluti consulas; omnesques tibi, ut pro aliis etiam loquar quod de me ipse sentio, quoniam subesse aliquid putas quod cavendum sit, non modo excubias et custodias, sed etiam laterum nostrorum oppositus et corporum pollicemur.

[32] But now all dissension has been shattered by arms, and extinguished by the equity of the victor: it remains that all, who have at least some share not only of wisdom but even of sanity, should will one and the same thing. Unless you, Gaius Caesar, are safe, and that policy remains in which you have employed yourself both before and today most of all, we cannot be safe. Wherefore we all, who wish these things to be kept safe, both exhort and beseech you to have regard to your life and safety; and we all to you—so that I may speak for others also what I myself feel—since you think there is something underlying that must be guarded against, promise not only vigils and guards, but even the interposition of our sides and bodies.

[33][XXX] Sed, ut unde est orsa, in eodem terminetur oratio,—maximas tibi omnes gratias agimus, C. Caesar, maiores etiam habemus. Nam omnes idem sentiunt, quod ex omnium precibus et lacrimis sentire potuisti: sed quia non est omnibus stantibus necesse dicere, a me certe dici volunt, cui necesse est quodam modo, et quod fieri decet—M. Marcello a te huic ordini populoque Romano et rei publicae reddito—fieri id intellego. Nam laetari omnis non de unius solum, sed de communi omnium salute sentio.

[33][30] But, that the speech may be ended in the same place whence it began,—we all render to you the greatest thanks, Gaius Caesar, and we even owe greater ones. For all feel the same, as you could perceive from the prayers and tears of all: but because it is not necessary for all, as they stand, to speak, they certainly wish it to be said by me, for whom in a certain way it is necessary, and because what ought to be done—with Marcus Marcellus by you restored to this order, to the Roman people, and to the commonwealth—I understand that that is being done. For I perceive that all rejoice not over the safety of one only, but over the common safety of all.

[34] Quod autem summae benevolentiae est, quae mea erga illum omnibus semper nota fuit, ut vix C. Marcello, optimo et amantissimo fratri, praeter eum quidem cederem nemini, cum id sollicitudine, cura, labore tam diu praestiterim, quam diu est de illius salute dubitatum, certe hoc tempore, magnis curis, molestiis, doloribus liberatus, praestare debeo. Itaque, C. Caesar, sic tibi gratias ago, ut omnibus me rebus a te non conservato solum, sed etiam ornato, tamen ad tua in me unum innumerabilia merita, quod fieri iam posse non arbitrabar, maximus hoc tuo facto cumulus accesserit.

[34] And as to that which is of the highest benevolence—my benevolence toward him, which has always been known to all—so that I would scarcely yield to C. Marcellus, an excellent and most loving brother, indeed, apart from him, to no one, since I have maintained it with solicitude, care, and labor for as long as there was doubt about his safety—certainly at this time, freed from great cares, annoyances, and griefs, I ought to make it good. Therefore, C. Caesar, thus do I give you thanks: although in all respects I have by you been not only preserved but also adorned, nevertheless to your innumerable merits toward me alone—what I did not think could now be done—the greatest accumulation has been added by this your deed.