Pliny the Younger•Panegyricus
Abbo Floriacensis1 work
Abelard3 works
Addison9 works
Adso Dervensis1 work
Aelredus Rievallensis1 work
Alanus de Insulis2 works
Albert of Aix1 work
HISTORIA HIEROSOLYMITANAE EXPEDITIONIS12 sections
Albertano of Brescia5 works
DE AMORE ET DILECTIONE DEI4 sections
SERMONES4 sections
Alcuin9 works
Alfonsi1 work
Ambrose4 works
Ambrosius4 works
Ammianus1 work
Ampelius1 work
Andrea da Bergamo1 work
Andreas Capellanus1 work
DE AMORE LIBRI TRES3 sections
Annales Regni Francorum1 work
Annales Vedastini1 work
Annales Xantenses1 work
Anonymus Neveleti1 work
Anonymus Valesianus2 works
Apicius1 work
DE RE COQUINARIA5 sections
Appendix Vergiliana1 work
Apuleius2 works
METAMORPHOSES12 sections
DE DOGMATE PLATONIS6 sections
Aquinas6 works
Archipoeta1 work
Arnobius1 work
ADVERSVS NATIONES LIBRI VII7 sections
Arnulf of Lisieux1 work
Asconius1 work
Asserius1 work
Augustine5 works
CONFESSIONES13 sections
DE CIVITATE DEI23 sections
DE TRINITATE15 sections
CONTRA SECUNDAM IULIANI RESPONSIONEM2 sections
Augustus1 work
RES GESTAE DIVI AVGVSTI2 sections
Aurelius Victor1 work
LIBER ET INCERTORVM LIBRI3 sections
Ausonius2 works
Avianus1 work
Avienus2 works
Bacon3 works
HISTORIA REGNI HENRICI SEPTIMI REGIS ANGLIAE11 sections
Balde2 works
Baldo1 work
Bebel1 work
Bede2 works
HISTORIAM ECCLESIASTICAM GENTIS ANGLORUM7 sections
Benedict1 work
Berengar1 work
Bernard of Clairvaux1 work
Bernard of Cluny1 work
DE CONTEMPTU MUNDI LIBRI DUO2 sections
Biblia Sacra3 works
VETUS TESTAMENTUM49 sections
NOVUM TESTAMENTUM27 sections
Bigges1 work
Boethius de Dacia2 works
Bonaventure1 work
Breve Chronicon Northmannicum1 work
Buchanan1 work
Bultelius2 works
Caecilius Balbus1 work
Caesar3 works
COMMENTARIORUM LIBRI VII DE BELLO GALLICO CUM A. HIRTI SUPPLEMENTO8 sections
COMMENTARIORUM LIBRI III DE BELLO CIVILI3 sections
LIBRI INCERTORUM AUCTORUM3 sections
Calpurnius Flaccus1 work
Calpurnius Siculus1 work
Campion8 works
Carmen Arvale1 work
Carmen de Martyrio1 work
Carmen in Victoriam1 work
Carmen Saliare1 work
Carmina Burana1 work
Cassiodorus5 works
Catullus1 work
Censorinus1 work
Christian Creeds1 work
Cicero3 works
ORATORIA33 sections
PHILOSOPHIA21 sections
EPISTULAE4 sections
Cinna Helvius1 work
Claudian4 works
Claudii Oratio1 work
Claudius Caesar1 work
Columbus1 work
Columella2 works
Commodianus3 works
Conradus Celtis2 works
Constitutum Constantini1 work
Contemporary9 works
Cotta1 work
Dante4 works
Dares the Phrygian1 work
de Ave Phoenice1 work
De Expugnatione Terrae Sanctae per Saladinum1 work
Declaratio Arbroathis1 work
Decretum Gelasianum1 work
Descartes1 work
Dies Irae1 work
Disticha Catonis1 work
Egeria1 work
ITINERARIUM PEREGRINATIO2 sections
Einhard1 work
Ennius1 work
Epistolae Austrasicae1 work
Epistulae de Priapismo1 work
Erasmus7 works
Erchempert1 work
Eucherius1 work
Eugippius1 work
Eutropius1 work
BREVIARIVM HISTORIAE ROMANAE10 sections
Exurperantius1 work
Fabricius Montanus1 work
Falcandus1 work
Falcone di Benevento1 work
Ficino1 work
Fletcher1 work
Florus1 work
EPITOME DE T. LIVIO BELLORUM OMNIUM ANNORUM DCC LIBRI DUO2 sections
Foedus Aeternum1 work
Forsett2 works
Fredegarius1 work
Frodebertus & Importunus1 work
Frontinus3 works
STRATEGEMATA4 sections
DE AQUAEDUCTU URBIS ROMAE2 sections
OPUSCULA RERUM RUSTICARUM4 sections
Fulgentius3 works
MITOLOGIARUM LIBRI TRES3 sections
Gaius4 works
Galileo1 work
Garcilaso de la Vega1 work
Gaudeamus Igitur1 work
Gellius1 work
Germanicus1 work
Gesta Francorum10 works
Gesta Romanorum1 work
Gioacchino da Fiore1 work
Godfrey of Winchester2 works
Grattius1 work
Gregorii Mirabilia Urbis Romae1 work
Gregorius Magnus1 work
Gregory IX5 works
Gregory of Tours1 work
LIBRI HISTORIARUM10 sections
Gregory the Great1 work
Gregory VII1 work
Gwinne8 works
Henry of Settimello1 work
Henry VII1 work
Historia Apolloni1 work
Historia Augusta30 works
Historia Brittonum1 work
Holberg1 work
Horace3 works
SERMONES2 sections
CARMINA4 sections
EPISTULAE5 sections
Hugo of St. Victor2 works
Hydatius2 works
Hyginus3 works
Hymni1 work
Hymni et cantica1 work
Iacobus de Voragine1 work
LEGENDA AUREA24 sections
Ilias Latina1 work
Iordanes2 works
Isidore of Seville3 works
ETYMOLOGIARVM SIVE ORIGINVM LIBRI XX20 sections
SENTENTIAE LIBRI III3 sections
Iulius Obsequens1 work
Iulius Paris1 work
Ius Romanum4 works
Janus Secundus2 works
Johann H. Withof1 work
Johann P. L. Withof1 work
Johannes de Alta Silva1 work
Johannes de Plano Carpini1 work
John of Garland1 work
Jordanes2 works
Julius Obsequens1 work
Junillus1 work
Justin1 work
HISTORIARVM PHILIPPICARVM T. POMPEII TROGI LIBRI XLIV IN EPITOMEN REDACTI46 sections
Justinian3 works
INSTITVTIONES5 sections
CODEX12 sections
DIGESTA50 sections
Juvenal1 work
Kepler1 work
Landor4 works
Laurentius Corvinus2 works
Legenda Regis Stephani1 work
Leo of Naples1 work
HISTORIA DE PRELIIS ALEXANDRI MAGNI3 sections
Leo the Great1 work
SERMONES DE QUADRAGESIMA2 sections
Liber Kalilae et Dimnae1 work
Liber Pontificalis1 work
Livius Andronicus1 work
Livy1 work
AB VRBE CONDITA LIBRI37 sections
Lotichius1 work
Lucan1 work
DE BELLO CIVILI SIVE PHARSALIA10 sections
Lucretius1 work
DE RERVM NATVRA LIBRI SEX6 sections
Lupus Protospatarius Barensis1 work
Macarius of Alexandria1 work
Macarius the Great1 work
Magna Carta1 work
Maidstone1 work
Malaterra1 work
DE REBUS GESTIS ROGERII CALABRIAE ET SICILIAE COMITIS ET ROBERTI GUISCARDI DUCIS FRATRIS EIUS4 sections
Manilius1 work
ASTRONOMICON5 sections
Marbodus Redonensis1 work
Marcellinus Comes2 works
Martial1 work
Martin of Braga13 works
Marullo1 work
Marx1 work
Maximianus1 work
May1 work
SUPPLEMENTUM PHARSALIAE8 sections
Melanchthon4 works
Milton1 work
Minucius Felix1 work
Mirabilia Urbis Romae1 work
Mirandola1 work
CARMINA9 sections
Miscellanea Carminum42 works
Montanus1 work
Naevius1 work
Navagero1 work
Nemesianus1 work
ECLOGAE4 sections
Nepos3 works
LIBER DE EXCELLENTIBUS DVCIBUS EXTERARVM GENTIVM24 sections
Newton1 work
PHILOSOPHIÆ NATURALIS PRINCIPIA MATHEMATICA4 sections
Nithardus1 work
HISTORIARUM LIBRI QUATTUOR4 sections
Notitia Dignitatum2 works
Novatian1 work
Origo gentis Langobardorum1 work
Orosius1 work
HISTORIARUM ADVERSUM PAGANOS LIBRI VII7 sections
Otto of Freising1 work
GESTA FRIDERICI IMPERATORIS5 sections
Ovid7 works
METAMORPHOSES15 sections
AMORES3 sections
HEROIDES21 sections
ARS AMATORIA3 sections
TRISTIA5 sections
EX PONTO4 sections
Owen1 work
Papal Bulls4 works
Pascoli5 works
Passerat1 work
Passio Perpetuae1 work
Patricius1 work
Tome I: Panaugia2 sections
Paulinus Nolensis1 work
Paulus Diaconus4 works
Persius1 work
Pervigilium Veneris1 work
Petronius2 works
Petrus Blesensis1 work
Petrus de Ebulo1 work
Phaedrus2 works
FABVLARVM AESOPIARVM LIBRI QVINQVE5 sections
Phineas Fletcher1 work
Planctus destructionis1 work
Plautus21 works
Pliny the Younger2 works
EPISTVLARVM LIBRI DECEM10 sections
Poggio Bracciolini1 work
Pomponius Mela1 work
DE CHOROGRAPHIA3 sections
Pontano1 work
Poree1 work
Porphyrius1 work
Precatio Terrae1 work
Priapea1 work
Professio Contra Priscillianum1 work
Propertius1 work
ELEGIAE4 sections
Prosperus3 works
Prudentius2 works
Pseudoplatonica12 works
Publilius Syrus1 work
Quintilian2 works
INSTITUTIONES12 sections
Raoul of Caen1 work
Regula ad Monachos1 work
Reposianus1 work
Ricardi de Bury1 work
Richerus1 work
HISTORIARUM LIBRI QUATUOR4 sections
Rimbaud1 work
Ritchie's Fabulae Faciles1 work
Roman Epitaphs1 work
Roman Inscriptions1 work
Ruaeus1 work
Ruaeus' Aeneid1 work
Rutilius Lupus1 work
Rutilius Namatianus1 work
Sabinus1 work
EPISTULAE TRES AD OVIDIANAS EPISTULAS RESPONSORIAE3 sections
Sallust10 works
Sannazaro2 works
Scaliger1 work
Sedulius2 works
CARMEN PASCHALE5 sections
Seneca9 works
EPISTULAE MORALES AD LUCILIUM16 sections
QUAESTIONES NATURALES7 sections
DE CONSOLATIONE3 sections
DE IRA3 sections
DE BENEFICIIS3 sections
DIALOGI7 sections
FABULAE8 sections
Septem Sapientum1 work
Sidonius Apollinaris2 works
Sigebert of Gembloux3 works
Silius Italicus1 work
Solinus2 works
DE MIRABILIBUS MUNDI Mommsen 1st edition (1864)4 sections
DE MIRABILIBUS MUNDI C.L.F. Panckoucke edition (Paris 1847)4 sections
Spinoza1 work
Statius3 works
THEBAID12 sections
ACHILLEID2 sections
Stephanus de Varda1 work
Suetonius2 works
Sulpicia1 work
Sulpicius Severus2 works
CHRONICORUM LIBRI DUO2 sections
Syrus1 work
Tacitus5 works
Terence6 works
Tertullian32 works
Testamentum Porcelli1 work
Theodolus1 work
Theodosius16 works
Theophanes1 work
Thomas à Kempis1 work
DE IMITATIONE CHRISTI4 sections
Thomas of Edessa1 work
Tibullus1 work
TIBVLLI ALIORVMQUE CARMINVM LIBRI TRES3 sections
Tünger1 work
Valerius Flaccus1 work
Valerius Maximus1 work
FACTORVM ET DICTORVM MEMORABILIVM LIBRI NOVEM9 sections
Vallauri1 work
Varro2 works
RERVM RVSTICARVM DE AGRI CVLTURA3 sections
DE LINGVA LATINA7 sections
Vegetius1 work
EPITOMA REI MILITARIS LIBRI IIII4 sections
Velleius Paterculus1 work
HISTORIAE ROMANAE2 sections
Venantius Fortunatus1 work
Vico1 work
Vida1 work
Vincent of Lérins1 work
Virgil3 works
AENEID12 sections
ECLOGUES10 sections
GEORGICON4 sections
Vita Agnetis1 work
Vita Caroli IV1 work
Vita Sancti Columbae2 works
Vitruvius1 work
DE ARCHITECTVRA10 sections
Waardenburg1 work
Waltarius3 works
Walter Mapps2 works
Walter of Châtillon1 work
William of Apulia1 work
William of Conches2 works
William of Tyre1 work
HISTORIA RERUM IN PARTIBUS TRANSMARINIS GESTARUM24 sections
Xylander1 work
Zonaras1 work
Bene ac sapienter, Patres Conscripti, maiores instituerunt, ut rerum agendarum, ita dicendi initium a precationibus capere: quod nihil rite, nihilque providenter homines, sine deorum immortalium ope, consilio, honore, auspicarentur. Qui mos cui potius, quam consuli, aut quando magis usurpandus colendusque est, quam quum imperio senatus, auctoritate reipublicae, ad agendas optimo principi gratias excitamur? Quod enim praestabilius est aut pulchrius munus deorum, quam castus et sanctus et diis simillimus princeps?
Well and wisely, Conscript Fathers, our ancestors instituted that, just as for things to be done, so the beginning of speaking be taken from prayers: because men would auspicate nothing duly, nor with foresight, without the aid, counsel, and honor of the immortal gods. Which custom to whom rather than to a consul, or when is it more to be employed and cultivated, than when by the command of the Senate, by the authority of the commonwealth, we are stirred to render thanks to the best prince? For what gift of the gods is more excellent or more beautiful than a prince chaste and holy and most like to the gods?
And if it had still been doubtful whether rulers are given to the lands by fortuity and chance, or by some numen, yet it would be clear that our princeps has been constituted divinely. For not by the occult power of the fates, but by Jupiter himself, before the face and openly, he was found and elected: indeed among the altars and altar-tables, and in that same place which that god, as manifest and present as heaven and the stars, has occupied. Wherefore it is the more apt and pious to beseech you, Jupiter Best and Greatest, formerly the founder, now the conservator of our empire, that an oration may befall me worthy of a consul, worthy of the senate, worthy of the princeps; and that in all the things which shall be said by me, liberty, good faith, and truth may stand firm; and that my thanksgiving be so far removed from the semblance of adulation as it is from necessity.
Equidem non Consuli modo, sed omnibus civibus enitendum reor, ne quid de Principe nostro ita dicant, ut idem illud de alio dici potuisse videatur. Quare abeant ac recedant voces illae, quas metus exprimebat: nihil, quale ante, dicamus; nihil enim, quale antea, patimur: nec eadem de principe [palam], quae prius, praedicemus; neque enim eadem secreto loquimur, quae prius. Discernatur orationibus nostris diversitas temporum, et ex ipso genere gratiarum agendarum intelligatur, cui, quando sint actae.
Indeed I am of the opinion that not only the Consul, but all citizens must strive, that they say nothing about our Princeps in such a way that the same thing might seem to have been able to be said about another. Wherefore let those voices go away and withdraw, which fear used to wring out: let us say nothing such as before; for we suffer nothing such as previously: nor let us proclaim the same things about the princeps [openly] as earlier; nor indeed do we in secret speak the same things as before. Let the diversity of the times be discerned by our speeches, and from the very manner of giving thanks let it be understood to whom, and when, they were rendered.
Let us nowhere flatter him as a god, nowhere as a numen: for we are speaking not of a tyrant, but of a citizen; not of a lord, but of a parent. He counts himself one of us, and in this he all the more excels and is eminent, that he thinks himself one of us; nor does he remember less that he is a man than that he presides over men. Let us therefore understand our benefits, and prove ourselves worthy of them by our use, and again and again let us consider how unworthy it is if we render greater obsequious deference to princes who rejoice in the servitude of citizens than to those who rejoice in liberty.
And indeed the Roman People preserves the choice of princes, and whereas but a little before with concerted acclamation it rang out another as “most fair,” it now resounds this one as “most brave;” and with those same shouts by which at times it praised another’s bearing and voice, it praises this man’s piety, abstinence, and mansuetude. What of us ourselves? Do we all together use to celebrate the divinity of our prince, or his humanity, temperance, and affability, as love and joy have prompted?
and with alternating vows, LET HIM DO THESE THINGS, LET HIM HEAR THESE THINGS, do we jointly beseech, as if we were not going to say it unless he should do it? At which words he is suffused even with tears and with much modesty. For he recognizes and senses that it is said to him, not to the princeps.
Igitur quod temperamentum omnes in illo subito pietatis calore servavimus, hoc singuli quoque meditatique teneamus; sciamusque, nullum esse neque sincerius, neque acceptius genus gratiarum, quam quod illas acclamationes aemuletur, quae fingendi non habent tempus. Quantum ad me attinet, laborabo, ut orationem meam ad modestiam Principis moderationemque submittam, nec minus considerabo, quid aures eius pati possint, quam quid virtutibus debeatur. Magna et inusitata Principis gloria, cui gratias acturus, non tam vereor, ne me in laudibus suis parcum, quam ne nimium putet.
Therefore that temperament which we all preserved in that sudden heat of piety, let us also, each one and having reflected, hold fast to it; and let us know that there is no kind or manner of thanks either more sincere or more acceptable than that which emulates those acclamations which have no time for feigning. As far as I am concerned, I will strive to submit my speech to the modesty and moderation of the Prince, and I will consider no less what his ears can endure than what is owed to his virtues. Great and unwonted is the Prince’s glory, to whom I am about to render thanks; I fear not so much that he may think me sparing in his praises, as that he may deem me excessive.
This care, this difficulty alone besets me: for it is easy to give thanks to one who merits it, Conscript Fathers. For there is no danger that, when I speak of humanity, he would think pride is being cast in his teeth; when of frugality, luxury; when of clemency, cruelty; when of liberality, avarice; when of benignity, envy; when of continence, lust; when of labor, inertia; when of fortitude, fear. Nor do I even fear this, that I may seem grateful or ungrateful, according as I shall have said enough or too little.
Sed parendum est Senatusconsulto, quo ex utilitate publica placuit, ut Consulis voce, sub titulo gratiarum agendarum, boni principes, quae facerent, recognoscerent; mali, quae facere deberent. Id nunc eo magis solemne ac necessarium est, quod parens noster privatas gratiarum actiones cohibet et comprimit, intercessurus etiam publicis, si permitteret sibi vetare, quod Senatus iuberet. Utrumque, Caesar Auguste, moderate, et quod alibi tibi gratias agi non sinis, et quod hic sinis.
But it is necessary to obey the Senatus-consultum, by which, out of public utility, it pleased that, by the Consul’s voice, under the title of giving thanks, good princes should recognize what they were doing; bad, what they ought to do. That is now all the more solemn and necessary, because our father restrains and compresses private thanksgivings, and would intercede even with public ones, if he permitted himself to forbid what the Senate ordered. Both things, Caesar Augustus, you do with moderation, both in that elsewhere you do not allow thanks to be given to you, and in that here you allow it.
For that honor is not from yourself to yourself, but is held by those who are giving thanks. You yield to our affections, and it is necessary for you not to proclaim your bounties to us, but to hear them. Often I, Conscript Fathers, have silently revolved with myself, of what sort and how great he ought to be, by whose dominion and nod the seas, the lands, peace, and wars would be governed: while meanwhile, as I was fashioning and forming for myself a princeps, whom a power equalized to the immortal gods would befit, it never occurred, at least in wish, to conceive one like to this man whom we behold.
Someone shone in war, but grew obsolete in peace; another the toga honored, but not arms as well; that man captured reverence by terror, another love by humanity; that one lost in public the glory sought at home, this one at home lost the glory won in public. Finally, up to now no one has arisen whose virtues were not injured by some border with vices. But to our Prince how great a concord, and what a concert of all praises and of all glory has fallen!
That nothing is detracted from his severity by hilarity, nothing from his gravity by simplicity, nothing from his majesty by humanity! Already the firmness, already the procerity of the body, already the honor of the head and the dignity of the face, to this the inflexible maturity of age, and the hair—adorned, not without a certain gift of the gods, with the insignia of a hastened old age—for the augmenting of majesty, do they not far and wide display a prince?
Talem esse oportuit, quem non bella civilia nec armis oppressa respublica, sed pax, et adoptio, et tandem exorata terris numina, dedissent. An fas erat, nihil differre inter imperatorem, quem homines, et quem dii fecissent? quorum quidem in te, Caesar Auguste, iudicium et favor, tunc statim, quum ad exercitum proficiscereris, et quidem inusitato indicio enituit.
Such a one it was fitting that he be, one whom not civil wars nor a republic oppressed by arms had given, but peace, and adoption, and at last the gods, appeased on behalf of the lands. Was it right that there be no difference between the emperor whom men had made and the one whom the gods had made? Of whom indeed, in your case, Caesar Augustus, the judgment and favor shone forth then at once, when you were setting out to the army, and indeed by an unprecedented sign.
For the other princes either the copious gore of victims, or the sinister flight of birds proclaimed it to the consulters; but for you, as you were ascending the Capitol according to custom, the shout of the citizens—although not aiming at that—met you as already a princeps. For indeed the whole crowd that had sat at the threshold, when the doors were thrown open at your entrance, hailed, as at that time it supposed, a god—yet, as the event taught, it hailed you emperor. Nor was the whole matter received otherwise by all.
For you were obstinately set not to assume the imperial power, unless it was to be preserved. Wherefore I consider that that very frenzy and camp-uprising came to pass, because your modesty had to be conquered by great force and great terror. And just as whirlwinds and tempests commend the temperateness of sea and sky, so I would believe that that tumult preceded in order to augment the grace of your peace.
Magnum quidem illud seculo dedecus, magnum reipublicae vulnus impressum est. Imperator, et parens generis humani, obsessus, captus, inclusus: ablata mitissimo seni servandorum hominum potestas; ereptumque principi illud in principatu beatissimum, quod nihil cogitur. Si tamen haec sola erat ratio, quae te publicae salutis gubernaculis admoveret; prope est ut exclamem, tanti fuisse.
Truly great indeed was that disgrace to the age, a great wound has been inflicted upon the Republic. The Emperor, and the parent of the human race, besieged, captured, shut in: from a most gentle old man the power of saving men has been taken away; and from the prince that thing most blessed in the Principate has been snatched, that nothing is compelled. If, however, this alone was the rationale which moved you to the helm of public safety; it is almost that I exclaim, that it was worth the cost.
The discipline of the camps was corrupted, so that you might come as corrector and emender: the worst example was introduced, so that the best might be set against it: finally the princeps, compelled, to kill those whom he did not wish, so that he might give a princeps who could not be coerced. Once indeed you deserved to be adopted; but we would not have known how much the empire owed to you, if you had been adopted earlier. A time was awaited, in which it became clear that you had not so much received a benefit as given one.
The shaken republic fled into your bosom, and the collapsing imperium, over the emperor, was by the emperor’s voice delivered to you. You were implored for adoption, and you were summoned, as once great leaders used to be recalled from peregrine and external wars to bring aid to the fatherland. Thus son and parent, in one and the same moment, rendered the greatest thing to each other in turn: he gave the imperium to you, you returned it to him.
O novum atque inauditum ad principatum iter! Non te propria cupiditas, proprius metus; sed aliena utilitas, alienus timor principem fecit. Videaris licet quod est amplissimum consequutus inter homines; felicius tamen erat illud, quod reliquisti: sub bono principe privatus esse desiisti.
O new and unheard-of path to the principate! Not your own desire, not your own fear; but another’s advantage, another’s fear made you emperor. Though you may seem to have attained what is most exalted among men; yet happier was that which you left: under a good prince you ceased to be a private citizen.
You were assumed into a consortium of labors and cares, and it was not the joyful and prosperous things of that station, but the rough and hard that compelled you to seize it. You took up rule, after another repented of his undertaking. There was no kinship of the adopted with him who was adopting, no bond of necessity, except that each was best, and that the one was worthy to be chosen, the other to choose.
Therefore you were adopted, not, as formerly this man and that, for a wife’s favor. For it was not a stepfather but the princeps who enrolled you as a son, and the deified Nerva became your father with the same spirit which he bore toward all. Nor is it fitting that a son be adopted otherwise, if he be adopted by a princeps.
and do you count as your nearest, as your most closely conjoined, him whom you have found the best, the most similar to the gods? One who is going to command all must be chosen out of all. For you are not going to give a lord to your little slaves, so that you may be content as with a kind of necessary heir, but, emperor, you are going to give a princeps to the citizens.
That is proud and regal, unless you adopt him whom it stands established would have ruled even if you had not adopted him. Nerva did this, judging that it made no difference whether you had begotten or elected, if children are adopted without judgment just as they are born; except, however, that men bear with a more even mind the one whom a prince has somewhat unhappily begotten, rather than the one whom he has ill-chosen.
Sedulo ergo vitavit hunc casum, nec iudicia hominum, sed deorum etiam in consilium assumsit. Itaque non tua in cubiculo, sed in templo; nec ante genialem torum, sed ante pulvinar Iovis optimi maximi, adoptio peracta est: qua tandem non servitus nostra, sed libertas et salus et securitas fundabatur. Sibi enim dii gloriam illam vindicaverunt: horum opus, horum illud imperium; Nerva tantum minister fuit: teque qui adoptaret, tam paruit, quam tu, qui adoptabaris.
Therefore he diligently avoided this mishap, and he took into counsel not the judgments of men, but of the gods also. And so the adoption was accomplished not in your bedchamber, but in the temple; not before the nuptial couch, but before the pulvinar of Jupiter Optimus Maximus: by which at last not our servitude, but liberty and safety and security were being established. For the gods claimed that glory for themselves: theirs the work, theirs that imperium; Nerva was only the minister: and he who adopted you obeyed just as much as you, who were being adopted.
A laurel had been brought from Pannonia, the gods contriving this, that it might adorn the rising of the unconquered emperor as the insignia of victory. This Emperor Nerva had placed in the lap of Jupiter: when suddenly, greater and more august than usual, having summoned an assembly of men and of gods, he took you to himself as a son, that is, as the sole aid for affairs grown weary. Then, as if with the empire laid aside, rejoicing in such security, in such glory (for how little does it matter whether you lay down, or share the empire, except that the latter is more difficult?), leaning on you as though present, sustaining himself and the fatherland on your shoulders, by your youth, by your robustness he grew strong!
That incentive of angers and torch of tumult would have been, had it not fallen upon you. Is it doubtful that, though an emperor who had lost reverence could give the imperium, it was by the authority of him to whom it was given that it took effect? At once a son, at once a Caesar, soon an Emperor, and a co-sharer of Tribunician power, and everything together, and instantly you were made—things which, in the nearest way, only a true parent has bestowed upon another son.
Magnum hoc tuae moderationis indicium, quod non solum successor imperii, sed particeps etiam sociusque placuisti. Nam successor, etiamsi nolis, habendus est: non est habendus socius, nisi velis. Credentne posteri, patricio et consulari et triumphali patre genitum, quum fortissimum, amplissimum, amantissimum sui exercitum regeret, imperatorem non ab exercitu factum?
Great is this indication of your moderation: that you pleased not only as a successor of the imperium, but also as a participant and partner. For a successor, even if you should be unwilling, must be had; a partner is not to be had unless you will it. Will posterity believe that, born of a patrician and consular and triumphal father, when he was ruling an army most brave, most ample, most loving toward him, he was not made emperor by the army?
For you obeyed, Caesar, and by obedience you came to the principate, and nothing was more an act of a subjected spirit on your part than that you began to command. Already Caesar, already imperator, already Germanicus, absent and unaware, and after such great titles, so far as it pertained to you, a private man. It would seem a great thing if I were to say, You did not know you would be emperor: you were emperor, and you did not know that you were.
where is the custom handed down from the ancestors, to undergo with an even mind and readiness whatever duty the emperor should enjoin? For what, if he were to assign province upon province, war upon war? You should think that he can use the same right when he recalls to the imperial command as that which he used when he sent to the army; and that it makes no difference whether he bids one go as legate, or to return as emperor, except that the glory of obedience is greater in that which one would less wish.
Augebat auctoritatem iubentis in summum discrimen auctoritas eius adducta: utque magis parendum imperanti putares, efficiebatur eo, quod ab aliis minus parebatur. Ad hoc audiebas Senatus Populique consensum. Non unius Nervae iudicium illud, illa electio fuit.
Augebat the authority of the one ordering, brought into the highest crisis, his authority: and so that you might think the one commanding was all the more to be obeyed, it was brought about by this, that he was less obeyed by others. To this you heard the consensus of the Senate and the People. That was not the judgment of Nerva alone, that election.
For men everywhere were seeking this same thing with vows; he only, by the right of a princeps, preempted it, and was the first to do what all were going to do. Nor, by Hercules, would the deed have so greatly pleased everyone, had it not pleased before it was done. But with what, good gods, a tempering you have moderated your power and your fortune! An Imperator in titles and images and standards, but otherwise—by modesty, labor, vigilance—a leader and legate and soldier, while already you went with great stride before your own banners, your own eagles, and you asserted for yourself from that adoption nothing other than a son’s piety, a son’s obedience, and were praying for a long age and long glory for this name.
The providence of the gods had advanced you to the first place; you were still wishing to stand fast in the second and even to grow old there: you seemed to yourself a private man, so long as there was also another as emperor. Your vows were heard, but in so far as it was useful to that best and most holy old man, whom the gods vindicated to heaven, lest he do anything mortal after that divine and immortal deed. For this veneration is owed to the greatest work, that it should be the latest, and that its author be straightway consecrated, so that whenever it should be asked among posterity whether already a god had done that.
Thus he was under no title more a public parent than because he was yours. Immense the glory and immense the fame, since he had abundantly experienced how well the imperium sat upon your shoulders: he left the lands to you, and you to the lands; for that very reason dear to all and to be longed-for, because he had foreseen that he should not be longed-for.
Quem tu lacrymis primum, ita ut filium decuit, mox templis honestasti, non imitatus illos, qui hoc idem, sed alia mente, fecerunt. Dicavit coelo Tiberius Augustum, sed ut maiestatis crimen induceret: Claudium Nero, sed ut irrideret: Vespasianum Titus, Domitianus Titum: sed ille, ut dei filius, hic, ut frater videretur. Tu sideribus patrem intulisti, non ad metum civium, non in contumeliam numinum, non in honorem tuum, sed quia deum credis.
Whom you first, with tears, as befitted a son, then with temples, you honored, not imitating those who did this same thing, but with a different mind. Tiberius consecrated Augustus to heaven, but so as to introduce a charge of majesty; Nero, Claudius, but so as to mock; Titus, Vespasian; Domitian, Titus: but the former, that he might seem a son of a god, the latter, that he might seem a brother. You have borne your father to the stars, not for the fear of the citizens, not into the contumely of the divinities, not into your own honor, but because you believe him a god.
This counts for less, when it is done by those who also think themselves gods. But although you honor him with altars, pulvinar-couches, and a flamen, yet you by nothing more both make and prove him a god than by the fact that you yourself are such a one. For in a prince who, having chosen a successor, has yielded to fate, the one and likewise the surest proof of divinity is a good successor. Has, therefore, anything of arrogance accrued to you from your father’s immortality?
Do you emulate rather these most recent men, idle and proud by the divinity of their parents, than those old and ancient ones? who begot this very imperium, which but a little before enemies had invaded and contemned; since no greater proof was held that an enemy commander had been driven back and put to flight, than if a triumph were celebrated. Therefore they had lifted up their spirits and had shaken off the yoke: and now they contended with us not about their own liberty, but about our servitude; and they did not even enter into a truce, except on equal conditions, and they were giving laws for us to accept.
At nunc rediit omnibus terror et metus, et votum imperata faciendi. Vident enim Romanum ducem, unum ex illis veteribus et priscis; quibus imperatorium nomen addebant contecti caedibus campi et infecta victoriis maria. Accipimus obsides ergo, non emimus: nec ingentibus damnis immensisque muneribus paciscimur, ut vicerimus.
But now terror and fear have returned to all, and the vow to do what has been commanded. For they see a Roman leader, one of those old and ancient men; to whom they used to add the imperial name when the fields were covered with slaughters and the seas stained with victories. We receive hostages, therefore, we do not buy them; nor do we make terms with enormous losses and immense gifts, as if we had conquered.
They ask, they supplicate; we lavish, we deny—both in accordance with the majesty of empire: they give thanks who have obtained; those to whom it has been denied do not dare to complain. Or would they dare, who know that you sat in audience to the most ferocious peoples at that very time which is most friendly to them, most difficult for us: when the Danube yokes its banks with frost, and, hardened with ice, transports on its back vast wars; when the savage nations are armed not so much with weapons as with their own climate, their own star? But when you were at hand, just as if the alternations of the seasons had been changed, they indeed were kept shut in their lairs; our battle-lines were glad to course along the banks, and, if you permitted, to make use of another’s occasion, and even to carry their own winter against the barbarians—they rejoiced.
Haec tibi apud hostes veneratio: quid apud milites? Quam admirationem quemadmodum comparasti? quum tecum inediam, tecum ferrent sitim; quum in illa meditatione campestri militaribus turmis imperatorium pulverem sudoremque misceres, nihil a ceteris, nisi robore ac praestantia differens; quum libero Marte nunc cominus tela vibrares, nunc vibrata susciperes, alacer virtute militum et laetus, quoties aut cassidi tuae aut clypeo gravior ictus incideret; (laudabas quippe ferientes, hortabarisque, ut auderent: et audebant iam:) quum spectator moderatorque ineuntium certamina virorum, arma componeres, tela tentares, ac si quid durius accipienti videretur, ipse vibrares.
Haec was your veneration among enemies: what among the soldiers? What admiration, how did you acquire it? when with you they bore fasting, with you they bore thirst; when, in that campestral meditation, you mingled imperial dust and sweat with the military cohorts, differing from the rest in nothing, save in strength and preeminence; when, in open battle, now at close quarters you would brandish weapons, now you would catch those brandished, brisk at the valor of the soldiers and glad whenever a heavier blow fell upon your helmet or your shield; (for you praised those striking, and you exhorted them to dare: and they now dared:) when, as spectator and moderator of the contests of men entering upon them, you would set arms in order, test the missiles, and, if anything seemed too harsh to the receiver, you yourself would brandish it.
What of when you brought solace to the weary, bore succor to the sick? It was not your custom to enter your own tents unless you had first gone the rounds of your fellow-soldiers; nor to grant rest to your body, except after everyone else. By this, an emperor would not seem to me worthy of admiration, if such a one were among the Fabricii, the Scipios, and the Camilli.
Then indeed the ardor of imitation, and always some better man, would ignite him. But after the pursuit of arms has been transferred from hands to eyes, from labor to pleasure; after at our exercises there stands by, not some veteran, to whom the distinction of the mural or the civic (crown), but a Greekling master: how great it is, [one] out of all, to rejoice by the ancestral custom, with the fatherland’s virtue, and without rival and without example to compete with himself, to contend with himself, and, just as he commands alone, so to be the only one who ought to command!
Nonne incunabula haec tibi, Caesar, et rudimenta, quum puer admodum Parthica lauro gloriam patris augeres, nomenque Germanici iam tum mererere, quum ferociam superbiamque barbarorum ex proximo auditus magno terrore cohiberes, Rhenumque et Euphratem admirationis tuae fama coniungeres? quum orbem terrarum non pedibus magis, quam laudibus peragrares? apud eos semper maior et clarior, quibus postea contigisses.
Were not these your incunabula and rudiments, Caesar, when, as a mere boy, with a Parthian laurel you augmented your father’s glory, and even then were earning the name of Germanicus; when, being heard from the closest quarters, you restrained the ferocity and pride of the barbarians with great terror, and you conjoined the Rhine and the Euphrates by the fame of the admiration for you? when you traversed the orb of the lands not so much with your feet as with praises? ever greater and more illustrious among those upon whom you afterwards chanced to come.
And you were not yet emperor, not yet the son of god. Germany, indeed, both by very many peoples and by an almost infinite vastness of intervening soil, and then by the Pyrenees, the Alps, and other mountains immense—unless they be compared with these—is fortified and sundered. Through all this span, when you were leading the legions, or rather (so great was the velocity) were hurrying them along, you never looked to a vehicle, never to a horse.
This light mount, not a support to the march but an ornament, followed along with the rest: such that you had no use of it, except when on a day of encampment you would lift the nearest field with alacrity, running about, and dust. Should I marvel at the beginning of the labor, or at the end? It is much that you persevered; more, however, that you did not fear that you might be unable to persevere.
Nor do I doubt that he who had summoned you, amid those wars of Germany, all the way from Spain, as a most powerful safeguard—the emperor himself inert and even then envious of others’ virtues—when he needed the help of them, conceived so great an admiration of you, not without a certain fear, as great as that which the one begotten of Jove, after savage labors and hard commands for his king, ever indomitable and indefatigable, used to bring back; since in expeditions one upon another you were found worthy of yet another charge.
Tribunus vero disiunctissimas terras, teneris adhuc annis, viri firmitate lustrasti: iam tunc praemonente Fortuna, ut diu penitus perdisceres, quae mox praecipere deberes. Neque enim prospexisse castra, brevemque militiam quasi transisse contentus, ita egisti tribunum, ut esse statim dux posses, nihilque discendum haberes tempore docendi. Cognovisti per stipendia decem mores gentium, regionum situs, opportunitates locorum, et diversam aquarum coelique temperiem, ut patrios fontes patriumque sidus, ferre consuesti.
As tribune indeed you traversed the most far-disjoined lands, while still in tender years, with a man’s firmness: already then, with Fortune forewarning, that you might long and deeply learn the things which soon you would have to prescribe. For you were not content to have merely looked over the camp and, as it were, to have passed through a brief soldiery; you conducted yourself as tribune in such a way that you could at once be a leader, and would have nothing left to learn at the time for teaching. Through ten terms of service you came to know the mores of nations, the sites of regions, the opportunities of places, and the diverse temper of waters and of the sky, so that you were accustomed to bear them as though they were your fatherland’s springs and your fatherland’s star.
How many times you changed horses, how many times you exchanged your veteran arms! Therefore a time will come when posterity will be eager to visit, to hand down as a thing-to-be-seen to their juniors, which field has drunk your sweats, which trees served for your refections, which rocks have screened your sleep, and what roof at last you, a great guest, have filled: just as once to you yourself the sacred footprints of mighty dukes, in those same places, were shown. But these things some other time: for the present indeed, whoever is a soldier a little older is here reckoned your fellow-soldier.
For how few indeed are there, of whom you were not first a fellow-soldier before a commander? Hence it is that you address nearly all by name: that you commemorate the brave deeds of individuals: nor do the wounds for the Republic need to be numbered out for you, of which you straightway were both praiser and witness.
Sed magis praedicanda moderatio tua, quod innutritus bellicis laudibus pacem amas: nec quia vel pater tibi triumphalis, vel adoptionis tuae die dicata Capitolino Iovi laurus, idcirco ex occasione omni quaeris triumphos. Non times bella, nec provocas. Magnum est, Imperator Auguste, magnum est stare in Danubii ripa, si transeas, certum triumphi; nec decertare cupere cum recusantibus: quorum alterum fortitudine, alterum moderatione efficitur.
But rather your moderation is more to be proclaimed, that, nurtured on warlike praises, you love peace: nor, because either your father was triumphal, or on the day of your adoption a laurel was dedicated to Capitoline Jove, therefore do you seek triumphs from every occasion. You do not fear wars, nor do you provoke them. It is great, Emperor Augustus, it is great to stand on the bank of the Danube—if you cross, triumph is certain; nor to desire to fight it out with those refusing: of which the one is effected by fortitude, the other by moderation.
For that you yourself are unwilling to fight is moderation; your fortitude ensures that neither do your enemies wish to. Therefore the Capitol will someday receive not mimic chariots, nor simulacra of false victory; but an emperor bringing back true and solid glory, peace, tranquillity, and such confessed submissions of the enemies, that no one shall have had to be conquered. This is fairer than all triumphs.
For indeed never has it come to pass, except from contempt of our empire, that we should conquer. But if any barbarian king should advance to such a pitch of insolence and frenzy as to deserve your anger and indignation, surely he—whether he is defended by a sea thrown in between, or by immense rivers, or by a precipitous mountain—will feel all these things so inclined and so yielding to your virtues, that he will suppose the mountains to have subsided, the rivers to have dried up, the sea to have been intercepted, and that there have been brought against him not our fleets, but the lands themselves.
Videor iam cernere non spoliis provinciarum, et extorto sociis auro, sed hostilibus armis captorumque regum catenis triumphum gravem. Videor ingentia ducum nomina, nec indecora nominibus corpora noscitare. Videor intueri immanibus ausis barbarorum onusta fercula, et sua quemque facta vinctis manibus sequentem: mox ipsum te sublimem, instantemque curru domitarum gentium tergo; ante currum autem clypeos, quos ipse perfoderis.
Videor now to discern, not by the spoils of provinces and gold extorted from allies, but by hostile arms and by the chains of captured kings, a grave triumph. I seem to recognize the mighty names of commanders, and bodies not unbefitting the names. I seem to behold litters laden with the barbarians’ monstrous ventures, and each man, with hands bound, following his own deeds: soon you yourself, exalted, and pressing with your chariot upon the back of the tamed nations; and before the chariot, moreover, the shields which you yourself have perforated.
Nor would rich spoils be lacking to you, if any of the kings should dare to come into your hands; nor would he shudder only at the cast of your missiles, but even at the cast of your eyes and of your threats, throughout the whole field, and with the whole army drawn up in opposition. By your most recent moderation you have deserved that, whenever the dignity of the empire compels you either to bring on war or to repel it, you should not seem to have conquered in order to triumph, but to triumph because you have conquered.
Aliud ex alio mihi occurrit. Quam speciosum est enim, quod disciplinam castrorum lapsam exstinctamque refovisti, depulso prioris seculi malo, inertia et contumacia et dedignatione parendi? Tutum est reverentiam, tutum caritatem mereri: nec ducum quisquam, aut non amari a militibus, aut amari timet: et inde offensae gratiaeque pariter securi, instant operibus, adsunt exercitationibus, arma, moenia, viros aptant.
One thing after another occurs to me. How splendid it is, indeed, that you have revived the discipline of the camp, fallen and extinguished, the evil of the former age—namely inertia, contumacy, and disdain of obeying—driven away? It is safe to earn reverence, safe to earn affection: nor does any of the leaders fear either not being loved by the soldiers, or being loved; and hence, equally secure from offense and favor, they press on with works, are present at exercises, they equip weapons, fortifications, and men.
Indeed, not such a princeps as to suppose that what is being prepared against the enemies threatens himself, is aimed at himself: which persuasion was that of those who, even while doing hostile acts, were afraid. The same men therefore rejoiced that military pursuits were growing torpid, and that not only spirits but even bodies themselves were languishing, and that swords too, through neglect, were being dulled and blunted. Moreover, our leaders feared not so much the plots of foreign kings as the ambushes of their own princes, nor so much the hands and steel of enemies as of their fellow soldiers.
Est haec natura sideribus, ut parva et exilia validiorum exortus obscuret: similiter Imperatoris adventu Legatorum dignitas inumbratur. Tu tamen maior omnibus quidem eras, sed sine ullius deminutione maior: eandem auctoritatem praesente te quisque, quam absente, retinebat: quin etiam plerisque ex eo reverentia accesserat, quod tu quoque illos reverebare. Itaque perinde summis atque infimis carus, sic imperatorem commilitonemque miscueras, ut studium omnium laboremque, et tanquam exactor intenderes, et tanquam particeps sociusque relevares.
Such is the nature of the stars, that the rising of the stronger obscures the small and slight: similarly, at the advent of the Emperor the dignity of the Legates is overshadowed. You, however, were greater than all indeed, but greater without the diminution of anyone: each person retained the same authority with you present as when absent; nay more, for many a greater reverence accrued from this very fact, that you too held them in reverence. Therefore equally dear to the highest and the lowest, you had so mingled emperor and fellow-soldier, that you both, as if an exactor, heightened the zeal and labor of all, and, as a participant and associate, lightened it.
Iam te civium desideria revocabant, amoremque castrorum superabat caritas patriae. Iter inde placidum ac modestum, ut plane a pace redeuntis. Nec vero ego in laudibus tuis ponam, quod adventum tuum non pater quisquam, non maritus expavit.
Already the desires of the citizens were calling you back, and the charity of the fatherland was surpassing the love of the camp. The journey thence was placid and modest, as plainly of one returning from peace. Nor indeed will I set among your praises that at your advent no father, no husband, was terrified.
A chastity affected by others, for you inborn and innate, and among those things which you cannot ascribe to yourself. No tumult in requisitioning vehicles, no fastidiousness around lodgings; the ration the same as for the others; in addition a retinue girded and obedient: you would say that some great commander, and most especially yourself, was going to the armies: so that there was nothing, or at least little, to distinguish between an emperor already made and one soon to be. How unlike, recently, was the transit of the other prince!
if, however, that passage was not a depredation, since the driving-off of hosts was being practiced, and everything on the right and on the left was burned and worn down, as if some force, or those very barbarians themselves, whom he was fleeing, had fallen upon them. The provinces had to be persuaded that that march had been Domitian’s, not a prince’s. And so, not so much for your glory as for the common utility, by an edict you subjoined what had been expended on each of you.
Let the emperor become accustomed to put down the reckoning together with his imperium: thus let him go out, thus return, as if about to render an account; let him declare what he has expended. Thus it will come to pass that he will not expend what it would shame him to speak. Moreover, let future princes, whether they will or not, nevertheless know, and, with two examples set forth, remember, that men will make their conjecture about their mores according as they shall have chosen this or that.
how slowly we prevailed! That name which others received immediately on the very first day of their principate, like Imperator and Caesar, you put off so far, until you too, the most sparing appraiser of your own benefactions, admitted that you now deserved it. And so it befell you alone of all that you were father of the fatherland before you became so; for you were so in our minds, in our judgments: nor did it concern public piety what you were called, except that it seemed ungrateful to itself if it called you emperor and Caesar rather than father, when it was experiencing you as a father.
Ac primum, qui dies ille, quo exspectatus desideratusque urbem tuam ingressus es! Iam hoc ipsum, quod ingressus es, quam mirum laetumque! Nam priores invehi et importari solebant: non dico quadriiugo curru, et albentibus equis, sed humeris hominum, quod arrogantius erat. Tu sola corporis proceritate elatior aliis et excelsior, non de patientia nostra quendam triumphum, sed de superbia principum egisti.
Ac first, what a day that was, when, expected and desired, you entered your city! Now this very thing, that you entered, how wondrous and gladsome! For the former ones were wont to be carried in and to be borne in: I do not say by a four-yoked chariot, and with gleaming white horses, but on the shoulders of men, which was more arrogant. You alone, by the tallness of the body, higher and more exalted than others, enacted not a kind of triumph over our patience, but over the pride of princes.
Therefore neither age, nor condition of health, nor sex delayed anyone from filling their eyes with the unaccustomed spectacle. The little ones to get to know you, the youths to display you, the elders to marvel; the sick too, neglecting the authority of their medics, crept toward the sight of you, as if toward salvation and health. Then some were proclaiming that they had lived enough, since you had been seen, you had been received; others, that now there was all the more living to be done.
Even then the women were visited by the greatest delight in their fecundity, when they perceived for what prince the citizens, for what emperor the soldiers had borne children. You might see the roofs crammed and straining, and not even that place left vacant which would admit only a hanging and unstable foothold; the roads packed on every side, and a narrow pathway left to you; the people brisk here and there, everywhere equal joy and an equal clamor. So evenly by all was joy received from your arrival, as you came to all: which joy itself nevertheless grew with your entrance, and was increased almost at each single step.
Gratum erat cunctis, quod senatum osculo exciperes, ut dimissus osculo fueras; gratum, quod equestris ordinis decora honore nominum sine monitore signares; gratum, quod tantum non ultro clientibus salutatis quasdam familiaritatis notas adderes. Gratius tamen, quod sensim et placide, et quantum respectantium turba pateretur, incederes; quod occursantium populus te quoque, te immo maxime, adstaret; quod primo statim die latus tuum crederes omnibus. Neque enim stipatus satellitum manu, sed circumfusus undique nunc senatus, nunc equestris ordinis flore, prout alterutrum frequentiae genus invaluisset, silentes quietosque lictores tuos subsequebare: nam milites nihil a plebe habitu, tranquillitate, modestia differebant.
It was pleasing to all, that you received the senate with a kiss, as you had been dismissed with a kiss; pleasing, that you marked the honors of the equestrian order with the honor of names without a prompter; pleasing, that, almost unbidden, after greeting your clients, you added certain notes of familiarity. More pleasing yet, that gently and placidly, and so far as the crowd of onlookers allowed, you advanced; that the people running to meet you would stand by you too—indeed by you, most of all; that on the very first day you entrusted your side to everyone. For you were not hemmed in by a band of bodyguards, but were surrounded on all sides now by the senate, now by the flower of the equestrian order, as either kind of throng had prevailed, and you followed your lictors, silent and quiet: for the soldiers differed in nothing from the plebs in dress, tranquility, and modesty.
Onerasset alium eiusmodi introitus; tu quotidie admirabilior et melior, talis denique, qualis alii principes futuros se tantum pollicentur. Solum ergo te commendat augetque temporis spatium. Iunxisti enim ac miscuisti res diversissimas, securitatem olim imperantis, et incipientis pudorem.
Such an entry would have burdened another; you, every day more admirable and better, at last such as other princes only promise that they will be. Therefore the mere span of time commends and augments you. For you have joined and commixed most diverse things: the security of one long commanding, and the modesty of one beginning.
You do not press the embraces of citizens down to your feet, nor do you repay a kiss with your hand. There remains to the Emperor the same humanity of countenance as before, the modesty of the right hand. You used to walk on foot; you walk on foot: you rejoiced in labor; you rejoice: and all those same things around you; Fortune has changed nothing in you yourself.
It is free, as the emperor goes through the public space, to stop, to come up to meet, to accompany, to pass by: you walk among us, not as though you merely touched us; and you provide abundance of yourself, not so as to impute it as a favor. Whoever has approached clings to your side, and each one’s own modesty, not your pride, sets an end to the conversation. We are indeed governed by you and subject to you, but as we are to laws.
For even those [laws] moderate our cupidities and lusts, yet they dwell with us and move among us. You are eminent, you excel, like honor, like power—things which indeed are above men, yet are nevertheless of men. Before you, princes, out of distaste for us, and from a certain fear of equality, had lost the use of their feet.
Nec vereor, Patres Conscripti, ne longior videar, quum sit maxime optandum, ut ea, pro quibus aguntur principi gratiae, multa sint: quae quidem reverentius fuerit integra illibataque cogitationibus vestris reservari, quam carptim breviterque perstringi; quia fere sequitur, ut illa quidem, de quibus taceas, tanta, quanta sunt, esse videantur. Nisi vero leviter attingi placet, locupletatas tribus, datumque congiarium populo, et datum totum, quum donativi partem milites accepissent. An mediocris animi est, his potius repraesentare, quibus magis negari potest?
Nor do I fear, Conscript Fathers, lest I seem too long, since it is most to be wished that the things for which thanks are rendered to the princeps be many: which indeed it would be more reverent to reserve entire and unblemished for your reflections than to touch upon piecemeal and briefly; because it generally follows that those things about which you keep silence seem to be as great as they are. Unless indeed it pleases that they be lightly grazed: the tribes enriched, and a congiary given to the people—and given in full—although the soldiers had received a part of a donative. Or is it a mark of a middling spirit to render rather to those to whom it can more easily be refused?
although in this diversity too the rationale of equality was maintained. For the soldiers were made equal to the people, in that they received a part, but earlier; the people to the soldiers, in that they were later, but they received the whole immediately. Indeed, with what benignity it was divided!
How great was your care, that no one might be left devoid of your liberality! It was given to those who, after your edict, had been put in the place of the erased; and even those to whom it had not been promised were equalized with the rest. One was detained by business, another by health, this man by the sea, that one by rivers: there was waiting, and provision was made, so that no one sick, no one occupied, and, finally, no one far away should have been left out: let each come when he wished; let each come when he could.
Magnificent, Caesar, and yours indeed, to as it were bring the most disjoined lands near by the ingenuity of munificence, and to contract immense spaces by liberality: to intercede in misfortunes, to run to meet Fortune, and to strive with every aid that no one from the Roman plebs, as you give the congiary, should feel himself to have been more a man than a citizen.
Adventante congiarii die, observare principis egressum in publicum, insidere vias examina infantium futurusque populus solebat. Labor parentibus erat, ostentare parvulos, impositosque cervicibus adulantia verba blandasque voces edocere: reddebant illi, quae monebantur. Ac plerique irritis precibus surdas principis aures adstrepebant; ignarique quid rogassent, quid non impetrassent, donec plane scirent, differebantur.
Advent as the day of the congiary drew near, they were wont to observe the emperor’s egress into public, and swarms of infants—the future people—used to occupy the roads. It was a labor for the parents to display the little ones, and, set upon their shoulders, to teach them adulatory words and blandishing voices; and the little ones would repeat what they were prompted. And the majority, with prayers in vain, would buzz around the emperor’s deaf ears; and, unaware what they had asked, what they had not obtained, they were put off until they should plainly know.
You did not even endure to be petitioned, and although it was most gladdening to your eyes to be filled with the sight of Roman offspring, nevertheless you ordered that all, before they might see or approach you, be received and entered on the lists: so that from infancy onward they might experience a public parent in the office of upbringing; that they might grow from your resources, they who would grow for you; and with your alimenta might come to your service under pay, and that all should owe to you alone as much as each would owe to his parents. Rightly, Caesar, that you undertake at your expenses the hope of the Roman name. For there is no kind of expenditure more worthy for a great prince, destined to merit immortality, than that which is disbursed upon posterity.
Enormous rewards, and equal penalties, encourage the wealthy to take up their offspring; for the poor, for bringing up children there is one expedient—the good princeps. If he does not with a liberal hand cherish, increase, and embrace those begotten in confidence of him, he hastens the fall of the empire, the fall of the commonwealth; and he guards the nobles in vain, the plebs being neglected, as one would tend a head with the body deficient and about to nod with unstable weight. It is easy to conjecture what joy you perceived, when the clamor of parents, children, old men, infants, and boys greeted you.
Nemo iam parens filio, nisi fragilitatis humanae vices horret; nec inter insanabiles morbos principis ira numeratur. Magnum quidem est educandi incitamentum, tollere liberos in spem alimentorum, in spem congiariorum; maius tamen, in spem libertatis, in spem securitatis. Atque adeo nihil largiatur princeps, dum nihil auferat; non alat, dum non occidat: nec deerunt, qui filios concupiscant.
No parent now dreads for his son anything, save the vicissitudes of human fragility; nor is a prince’s wrath counted among incurable diseases. It is indeed a great incitement to rearing, to raise children in the hope of alimentary support, in the hope of congiaries; greater yet, in the hope of liberty, in the hope of security. And so let the prince bestow nothing, so long as he takes nothing away; let him not feed, so long as he does not kill: nor will there be lacking those who covet sons.
On the contrary, let him dispense largesse and also take away; let him nourish and kill: indeed he will in a short time bring it about that all regret not only their posterity, but themselves and their parents. Wherefore I would praise nothing more in your whole liberality than that you give the congiary from your own, the alimentary allowances from your own: nor are the children of citizens by you, like the whelps of wild beasts, nourished on blood and slaughters: and what is most gratifying to the recipients, they know that what is given to them is what has been snatched from no one, and that, with so many enriched, only the prince has been made poorer: although not even he, indeed. For he, to whom belongs whatever belongs to all, himself has as much as all.
Alio me vocat numerosa gloria tua: alio autem? quasi vero iam satis veneratus miratusque sim, quod tantam pecuniam profudisti, non ut flagitii tibi conscius ab insectatione eius averteres famam; nec ut tristes hominum moestosque sermones laetiore materia detineres. Nullam congiario culpam, nullam alimentis crudelitatem redemisti, nec tibi bene faciendi fuit caussa, ut, quae male feceras, impune fecisses.
Your manifold glory calls me elsewhere: elsewhere, however? as though indeed I had already enough paid reverence and wonder at your having poured out so great a sum of money, not so that, conscious of a scandal, you might turn public report away from its pursuit of it; nor so as to detain men’s sad and mournful conversations with a more cheerful subject. By no congiary did you redeem any fault, by no alimentary doles any cruelty, nor was there for you a cause of doing good, so that the things you had done ill you might have done with impunity.
By that outlay love, not pardon, was sought; and the Roman people departed from your tribunal bound by obligation, not won over by entreaty. For you offered a congiary to the rejoicing while rejoicing, and, being secure, to the secure; and what earlier princes used to throw before the swelling spirits of the plebs to soften the hatred against themselves, that you, so innocent, gave to the people as innocently as the people received it. A little less, Conscript Fathers, than 5,000 freeborn were those whom the liberality of our prince sought out, discovered, and admitted.
These are the support of wars, the ornament of peace, they are nourished at public expense, and they learn to love the fatherland not as a fatherland only, but truly as a foster-mother. From these the camps, from these the tribes will be replenished; from these there will someday be born those for whom there will be no need of aliments. May the gods grant you, Caesar, the lifespan which you merit, and preserve the spirit which they have given: and how much greater a throng of infants you will again and again see inscribed!
Instar ego perpetui congiarii reor affluentiam annonae. Huius aliquando cura Pompeio non minus addidit gloriae, quam pulsus ambitus campo, exactus hostis mari, Oriens triumphis Occidensque lustratus. Nec vero ille civilius, quam parens noster, auctoritate, consilio, fide reclusit vias, portus patefacit, itinera terris, litoribus mare, litora mari reddidit, diversasque gentes ita commercio miscuit, ut, quod genitum esset usquam, id apud omnes natum esse videretur.
I reckon the affluence of the grain-supply to be the counterpart of a perpetual congiary. The care of this at one time added no less to Pompey’s glory than did ambitus driven from the Campus, the foe expelled from the sea, the East and the West marked by triumphs. Nor indeed did he, in a more civic spirit than our Parent, by authority, counsel, and good faith, open the roads, throw open the harbors, restore journeys to the lands, the sea to the shores, the shores to the sea, and so mingled diverse peoples by commerce that whatever had been produced anywhere seemed to have been born among all.
Is it not granted to discern that, without anyone’s injury, the whole year overflows for our uses? For, indeed, not as harvests snatched from enemy-land and doomed to perish in granaries are they carried off, while the allies cry out in vain. They themselves convey down what the earth begot, what the star nourished, what the year bore; nor, pressed by new indictions, do they fail in the old tributes.
Aegyptus alendis augendisque seminibus ita gloriata est, ut nihil imbribus coeloque deberet: siquidem proprio semper amne perfusa, nec alio genere aquarum solita pinguescere, quam quas ipse devexerat, tantis segetibus induebatur, ut cum feracissimis terris, quasi nunquam cessura, certaret. Haec inopina siccitate usque ad iniuriam sterilitatis exaruit: quia piger Nilus cunctanter alveo sese ac languide extulerat, ingentibus quoque tunc quidem ille fluminibus conferendus. Hinc pars magna terrarum, mergi palanti amne consueta, alto pulvere incanduit.
Egypt so boasted of nourishing and increasing its seeds, that it owed nothing to rains and the sky: since, always drenched by its own river, and not accustomed to grow rich by any other kind of waters than those which it itself had borne down, it was clothed with such harvests that it contended with the most fertile lands, as if never about to yield. This land, by an unexpected drought, dried up even to the outrage of sterility: because a slothful Nile had raised itself into its channel hesitatingly and languidly, that river then indeed to be compared with mighty rivers as well. Hence a great part of the lands, accustomed to be submerged by the wandering river, glowed with deep dust.
Then in vain did Egypt desire clouds, and looked back to the sky, since the very parent of fecundity, more contracted and more exiguous, had confined the fertility of that year by the same straits with which it confines its own abundance. For not only had that wandering river, when it spreads out, stopped and stuck within the ever‑used hill‑slopes, but on the reclining and detaining soil it had withdrawn itself as a fugitive with a gentle and soft glide, and had not yet supplied lands sufficiently moist to the parched. Therefore, the region, defrauded of its inundation—that is, of its fertility—thus invoked the aid of Caesar as it is wont to invoke its own river; nor was the span of its adversities longer than the time it was announcing them.
Omnibus equidem gentibus fertiles annos gratasque terras precor: crediderim tamen per hunc Aegypti statum tuas Fortunam vires experiri, tuamque vigilantiam exspectare voluisse. Nam quum omnia ubique secunda merearis: nonne manifestum est, si quid adversi cadat, tuis laudibus, tuisque virtutibus materiem campumque prosterni, quum secunda felices, adversa magnos probent? Percrebuerat antiquitus, urbem nostram nisi opibus Aegypti ali sustentarique non posse.
I indeed pray for all peoples for fertile years and pleasing lands: yet I would believe that through this condition of Egypt your Fortune wished to test your forces and to await your vigilance. For since you deserve favorable things everywhere: is it not manifest that, if anything adverse should befall, material and field are laid open for your praises and your virtues, since favorable things prove the happy, adverse things prove the great? It had long been noised abroad from of old, that our city could not be nourished and sustained except by the resources of Egypt.
The windy and insolent nation grew overproud, because although we were a conquering people, yet it fed us; and because in its own river, in its own ships, there would be either our abundance or our famine. We poured back into the Nile its supplies: it took back the grain which it had sent, and carried back the transported harvests. Let Egypt, then, learn, and believe by experience, that it furnishes to us not aliments but tributes: let it know that it is not necessary to the Roman People, and yet let it serve.
After these things, if it will, let the Nile love its own channel and keep the measure of the river: this is nothing to the city, nor even to Egypt, except that from there ships empty and vacant and like those returning be sent; from here full and laden and such as are wont to come; and with the office of the sea reversed, from here rather let bearing winds and a short course be desired. It would seem strange, Caesar, if the city’s grain-supply had not felt a slothful Egypt and a loitering Nile: which by your resources, your care has overflowed even to that point, so that at the same time it was proved both that we can do without Egypt, and that Egypt cannot do without us. It was all over with the most fecund nation, if it had been free: it was ashamed of unusual sterility, and it blushed no less at hunger than it was racked by it; when equally from you aid was brought to its necessities and to its sense of shame.
The farmers were astonished at granaries full, which they themselves had not refilled—wondering from what fields that harvest had been borne in, and in what part of Egypt there was another river. Thus, by your beneficence, neither was the soil grudging, and the compliant Nile has indeed often flowed bountifully for Egypt, but never more lavishly for our glory.
Quam nunc iuvat provincias omnes in fidem nostram ditionemque venisse, postquam contigit princeps, qui terrarum foecunditatem nunc huc, nunc illuc, ut tempus et necessitas posceret, transferret referretque! qui diremptam mari gentem, ut partem aliquam populi plebisque Romanae, aleret ac tueretur! Et coelo quidem nunquam benignitas tanta, ut omnes simul terras uberet foveatque: hic omnibus pariter, si non sterilitatem, at mala sterilitatis exturbat: hic, si non foecunditatem, at bona foecunditatis importat: hic alternis commeatibus orientem occidentemque connectit, ut, quae ubique feruntur, quaeque expetuntur, omnes gentes invicem capiant, et discant, quanto libertate discordi servientibus sit utilius, unum esse, cui serviant.
How pleasant it is now that all the provinces have come into our allegiance and dominion, since it has befallen us to have a princeps who would transfer and bring back the fecundity of the lands now here, now there, as time and necessity demanded! who would nourish and protect the people divided by the sea, as a certain part of the Roman people and plebs! And indeed the benignity of heaven is never so great as to make all lands at once fruitful and foster them: this man, for all alike, if not sterility itself, at least drives out the evils of sterility; this man, if not fecundity itself, at least imports the goods of fecundity; this man connects Orient and Occident by alternating convoys, so that the things which are produced everywhere, and the things which are desired, all peoples may receive in turn, and may learn how much more useful for those who serve than a discordant liberty it is to have one to whom they serve.
For indeed, when the goods of all are separated, the evils of each belong to individuals; but when they are associated and intermingled, the evils of individuals belong to no one, while the goods of all pertain to everyone. But whether some divinity of the lands, or some genius of the rivers, I pray both that soil and the river itself, that, content with this prince’s benignity, it may lay up the seeds in a soft bosom and restore them multiplied. We do not, to be sure, demand back interest; yet let it consider that it ought to be paid, and let it excuse the fallacious credit of one year before all years and all ages thereafter—so much the more, because we do not exact it.
Satisfactum qua civium, qua sociorum utilitatibus. Visum est spectaculum inde non enerve, nec fluxum, nec quod animos virorum molliret et frangeret, sed quod ad pulchra vulnera contemptumque mortis accenderet: quum in servorum etiam noxiorumque corporibus amor laudis et cupido victoriae cerneretur. Quam deinde in edendo liberalitatem, quam iustitiam exhibuit, omni affectione aut intactus, aut maior!
The interests both of citizens and of allies were satisfied. From there the spectacle seemed not enervate, nor fleeting, nor one that would soften and shatter the spirits of men, but one that would ignite them toward beautiful wounds and a contempt of death: since even in the bodies of slaves and of the condemned there was discerned a love of praise and a desire for victory. What liberality then in putting on the show, what justice he displayed, either untouched by every affection, or greater than it!
To no one was impiety, as it used to be, objected on the ground that he hated a gladiator; no one, made from spectator into spectacle, expiated wretched pleasures with the hook and with fires. That demented man, ignorant of true honor, who was gathering crimes of majesty (treason) in the arena, interpreted that he himself was being looked down on and despised unless we even venerated his gladiators; he construed that, in those men, there were revilers of himself, that his divinity, his numen were being violated—since he thought himself the same as the gods, and the gladiators the same as himself.
At tu, Caesar, quam pulchrum spectaculum pro illo nobis exsecrabili reddidisti! Vidimus delatorum iudicium, quasi grassatorum quasi latronum. Non solitudinem illi, non iter, sed templum, sed forum insederant: nulla iam testamenta secura, nullus status certus: non orbitas, non liberi proderant.
But you, Caesar, what a beautiful spectacle you have rendered to us in place of that execrable one! We saw the judgment of delators, as if of highwaymen, as if of brigands. They had not occupied a solitude, not a road, but a temple, but the forum: no wills now were secure, no status certain: neither childlessness nor children availed.
The avarice of princes had augmented this evil. You directed your eyes, and, as before to the camps, so afterwards you restored peace to the forum: you extirpated the intestine evil; and with provident severity you took care that a commonwealth founded upon laws should not seem to be overthrown by laws. Granted, therefore, that both fortune and your liberality have offered us spectacles to behold, as indeed they have—now the mighty strengths of men, and spirits to match, now the savagery of beasts, now a hitherto unknown mansuetude; now those secret and arcane resources, and, under you for the first time, resources held in common—yet nothing more grateful, nothing more worthy of the age, than that it befell to look down from above upon the upturned faces of the informers, and their twisted necks.
We recognized and we enjoyed it, when, as if expiatory victims of the public solicitude, they were led, over the blood of the guilty, to slow tortures and more grievous penalties. They were heaped into boats hastily procured, and given over to the tempests. That they might depart, and flee the lands laid waste by delations: and, if the waves and gales should have reserved anyone for the crags, this man would inhabit bare rocks and an inhospitable shore; he would lead a hard and anxious life, and, the security of the whole human race left behind his back, he would mourn.
Memoranda facies, delatorum classis permissa omnibus ventis, coactaque vela tempestatibus pandere, iratosque fluctus sequi, quoscunque in scopulos detulissent. Iuvabat, prospectare statim a portu sparsa navigia, et apud illud ipsum mare agere principi gratias, qui, clementia sua salva, ultionem hominum terrarumque diis maris commendasset. Quantum diversitas temporum posset, tum maxime cognitum est, quum iisdem, quibus antea cautibus innocentissimus quisque, tunc nocentissimus affigeretur; quumque insulas omnes, quas modo senatorum, iam delatorum turba compleret, quos quidem non in praesens tantum, sed in aeternum repressisti, in illa poenarum indagine inclusos.
A memorable sight: a fleet of delators turned loose to all winds, and compelled by tempests to spread sail and to follow the irate billows, to whatever rocks they had carried them. It was gratifying, to look out at once from the harbor at the ships scattered, and on that very sea to render thanks to the princeps, who, with his clemency kept safe, had commended the vengeance of men and lands to the gods of the sea. How much the diversity of times could avail was then most clearly learned, when on the same crags to which previously each most innocent person was fastened, then the most guilty was fastened; and when all the islands, which but lately a crowd of senators filled, now a throng of delators filled—whom indeed you have checked not for the present only, but forever, shut up in that dragnet of punishments.
Do they go to snatch away other people’s monies? let them lose what they have. Do they long to expel men from their hearths? let them be driven out of their own. Nor, as before, let them offer that bloodless and iron brow to be vainly gashed with pricks, and laugh at their own brands; but let them behold losses equal to their reward, and let them have hopes no greater than fears, and let them fear as much as they were feared.
Indeed, with a mighty spirit the deified Titus had provided for our security and our vengeance, and for that reason was equated to the divine powers; but how much more worthy of heaven are you someday, who have added so many things to those on account of which we made him a god! This was the more arduous because the emperor Nerva, most worthy to have you as son and as successor, after he had appended certain great measures to the edict of Titus, seemed to have left nothing to you—yet you have devised so many things as if nothing had been invented before you. How much would each single item, dispensed severally, have added to your store of favor!
Quam iuvat cernere aerarium silens et quietum, et quale ante delatores erat! Nunc templum illud, nunc vere deus, non spoliarium civium, cruentarumque praedarum saevum receptaculum, ac toto in orbe terrarum adhuc locus unus, in quo, optimo principe, boni malis impares essent. Manet tamen honor legum, nihilque ex publica utilitate convulsum: nec poena cuiquam remissa, sed addita est ultio, solumque mutatum, quod iam non delatores, sed leges timentur.
How it delights to behold the treasury silent and quiet, and such as it was before the delators! Now that is a temple, now truly a god, not a plunder-house of citizens, nor a savage receptacle of bloody booty, and, in the whole orb of lands, hitherto the one place in which, under the best prince, the good were unequal to the bad. Nevertheless the honor of the laws remains, and nothing has been torn from the public utility: nor has punishment been remitted to anyone, but retribution has been added, and the only thing changed is that now not the delators, but the laws are feared.
But perhaps you do not restrain the fisc with the same severity as the aerarium. On the contrary, with so much the greater, inasmuch as you believe more is permitted to you over what is your own than over what is public. It is said to your actor, and even to your procurator: “Come into court; follow to the tribunal.”
For a tribunal too has been devised for the Principate, equal to the others, unless you measure that one by the litigant’s magnitude. Lot and urn assign a judge to the fiscus: it is permitted to challenge, it is permitted to exclaim: I do not want this one; he is timid, and he understands the goods of the age too little: that one I do not want, because he strongly loves Caesar. The Principate and Liberty use the same forum.
That which is your chief glory: the fiscus is more often defeated; whose bad case never exists, except under a good prince. Vast is this merit; greater that one: that you have such procurators, that for the most part your citizens would not prefer other judges. Moreover, it is free for the disputant to say: "I do not wish to choose him."
Onera imperii pleraque vectigalia institui, ut pro utilitate communi, ita singulorum iniuriis coegerunt. His Vicesima reperta est, tributum tolerabile et facile heredibus dumtaxat extraneis, domesticis grave. Itaque illis irrogatum est, his remissum: videlicet, quod manifestum erat, quanto cum dolore laturi, seu potius non laturi homines essent, destringi aliquid et abradi bonis, quae sanguine, gentilitate, sacrorum denique societate, meruissent, quaeque nunquam ut aliena et speranda, sed ut sua semperque possessa, ac deinceps proximo cuique transmittenda cepissent.
The burdens of empire, most taxes, were instituted, which, while for the common utility, have likewise entailed injuries to individuals. Among these the Twentieth was devised, a tribute tolerable and easy for heirs only who are extraneous, but grievous for domestic ones. Accordingly it was imposed on those, remitted for these: namely, because it was manifest with how much pain men would bear, or rather would not bear, that something be pared and scraped from goods which they had merited by blood, by gentility, by the fellowship of sacred rites at last, and which they had taken up never as alien and to be hoped for, but as their own and always possessed, and thereafter to be transmitted to each next of kin.
This mansuetude of the law was preserved for veteran citizens: newcomers, whether they had come into citizenship through Latium or by the benefice of the princeps, unless at the same time they had obtained the rights of cognation, were held as most alien to those to whom they had been most closely conjoined. Thus the greatest beneficium was turned into the most grievous injury, and Roman citizenship was in the likeness of odium and discord and bereavement, since it tore apart the dearest pledges, their own piety remaining intact. Yet there were found those in whom so great a love of our name resided that they thought Roman citizenship to be well compensated, not only for the Vicesima, but even for the loss of affinities; but to these especially it ought to befall gratuitously, by whom it was esteemed at so great a value.
Therefore your father sanctioned that, whatever from the mother’s estate had come to the children, and from the children’s goods had come to the mother, even if they had not received the rights of cognation when they obtained citizenship, they should not pay its Vicesima. He granted the same immunity to a son in respect to paternal goods, provided only that he had been brought back under the father’s power: deeming it shameless, insolent, and almost impious for a publican to be inserted under these very names, and that it was not without a kind of sacrilege that the most sacred bonds of kinship should be, as it were, cut asunder with the Vicesima intervening; that no tax was of such value as to make children and parents strangers to one another.
Hactenus ille: parcius fortasse, quam decuit optimum principem, sed non parcius, quam optimum patrem, qui Optimum adoptaturus, hoc quoque parentis indulgentissimi fecit, quod delibasse quaedam, seu potius demonstrasse contentus, largam ac prope intactam benefaciendi materiam filio reservavit. Statim ergo muneri eius liberalitas tua adstruxit, ut, quemadmodum in patris filius, sic in hereditate filii pater esset immunis, nec eodem momento, quo pater esse desisset, hoc quoque amitteret, quod fuisset. Egregie, Caesar, quod lacrymas parentum vectigales esse non pateris.
Thus far he: more sparingly perhaps than befitted the best prince, but not more sparingly than the best father; who, about to adopt the Best, did this also of a most indulgent parent: that, content to have merely sampled certain things—or rather to have demonstrated them—he reserved for his son a large and almost untouched material for benefaction. Straightway therefore your liberality added to his gift, so that, just as in the father’s the son was immune, so in the son’s inheritance the father should be immune, and that he should not, at the very same moment at which he had ceased to be a father, lose this also, what he had been. Excellently, Caesar, that you do not allow the tears of parents to be tributary.
Let the father possess the son’s goods without diminution, nor let him receive as a partner of the inheritance one who has no grief: let no one call a recent and stunned bereavement to a computation, and compel the father to know what the son has left. I augment, Conscript Fathers, the princeps’s gift, when I show that reason inheres in his liberality. For that to which reason does not attach is to be deemed ambition and jactation and effusion—anything rather than liberality.
Worthy therefore, Emperor, of your clemency is to diminish the injuries of bereavement, and not to allow anyone, a son having been lost, to be furthermore afflicted with another grief. Even so the matter is abundantly wretched—the father as the son’s sole heir: what if he does not receive a coheir from the son? Add that, since the deified Nerva sanctioned that, in paternal estates, the children should of necessity pay the Twentieth, it was congruent that parents obtain the same immunity in their children’s estates.
For why should a more ample honor be held for posterity than for the ancestors? and why should not the same equity also recur backward as well? You indeed, Caesar, removed that exception, provided only that the son had been in the father’s power: looking to, I suppose, the force and the law of nature, which has always ordered children to be in the dominion of parents, and has not, as among cattle, so among men, given power and imperium to the stronger.
Nec vero contentus primum cognationis gradum abstulisse Vicesimae, secundum quoque exemit, cavitque, ut in sororis bonis frater, et contra, in fratris soror, utque avus, avia, in neptis nepotisque, et invicem illi, servarentur immunes. His quoque, quibus per Latium civitas Romana patuisset, idem indulsit, omnibusque inter se cognationum iura commisit, simul et pariter, et more naturae; quae priores principes a singulis rogari gestiebant, non tam praestandi animo, quam negandi. Ex quo intelligi potest, quantae benignitatis, quanti spiritus fuerit, sparsas, atque, ut ita dicam, laceras gentilitates colligere atque connectere, et quasi renasci iubere; deferre, quod negabatur, atque id praestare cunctis, quod saepe singuli non impetrassent, postremo, ipsum sibi eripere tot beneficiorum occasiones, tam numerosam obligandi imputandique materiam.
Not, indeed, content with having removed from the Vicesima the first degree of kinship, he also exempted the second, and he took care that, in a sister’s goods, the brother, and conversely, in a brother’s, the sister, and that a grandfather, grandmother, in a granddaughter’s and grandson’s, and they for each other, should be kept immune. To those also to whom through Latium the Roman citizenship had lain open, he granted the same, and he commingled among them all the rights of kinships with one another, at once and equally, and in the manner of nature; which earlier princes were eager to be asked for by individuals, not so much with the intention of granting as of denying. From this it can be understood of how great benignity, of how great a spirit he was, to gather and connect scattered, and, so to speak, torn gentilities, and to bid them, as it were, be reborn; to confer what was being denied, and to furnish to all that which often individuals would not have obtained; finally, to snatch from himself so many occasions of benefactions, so numerous a material for obligating and for imputing the credit.
What? In accord with the rest of his moderation he deems it no less invidious to give an inheritance than to take it away. Gladly, then, enter upon honors, seize citizenship; this will leave no one torn from kinship, like a trunk lopped and amputated: all will enjoy the same pledges as before, but more honorable ones.
Carebit onere Vicesimae parva et exilis hereditas: et si ita gratus heres volet, tota sepulcro, tota funeri serviet. Nemo observator, nemo castigator adsistet. Cuicumque modica pecunia ex hereditate alicuius obvenerit, securus habeat quietusque possideat.
A small and slender inheritance will lack the burden of the Vicesima: and if the grateful heir so wills, it shall serve wholly for the sepulchre, wholly for the funeral. No observer, no castigator will stand by. To whomsoever a modest sum of money has come from another’s inheritance, let him hold it secure and possess it in quiet.
That law of the Vicesima was framed so that its peril could not be incurred except by means of wealth. Iniquity has been converted into congratulation; injury into a vow: the heir desires that he may owe the Vicesima. It was added that those who, from such causes, would owe the Vicesima on the day of the edict, but had not yet paid it in, should not pay it in.
But not even the gods can bring succor to the past; you, however, have brought succor, and you took care that each should cease to owe what he would not thereafter be going to owe. You likewise effected that we should not have evil princes; with that disposition, if nature allowed, how gladly would you have poured back to so many despoiled, so many butchered, their blood and their goods! You forbade to be exacted that which had not begun to be owed in your age.
Feres, Caesar, curam et solicitudinem consularem. Nam mihi cogitanti, eundem te collationes remisisse, donativum reddidisse, congiarium obtulisse, delatores abegisse, vectigalia temperasse, interrogandus videris, satisne computaveris imperii reditus, an tantas vires habeat frugalitas principis, ut tot impendiis, tot erogationibus sola sufficiat. Nam quid est caussae, cur aliis quidem, quum omnia raperent, et rapta retinerent, ut si nihil rapuissent, defuerint omnia?
You will bear, Caesar, consular care and solicitude. For, as I consider that you have remitted the assessments, restored the donative, offered the congiary, driven away the delators, moderated the imposts, you seem one to be questioned whether you have sufficiently computed the revenues of the empire, or whether the frugality of the princeps has such strength as to suffice by itself for so many expenditures, so many disbursements. For what is the cause why for others, although they were seizing everything and kept what they had seized, yet everything was lacking to them as if they had seized nothing?
to you, when you lavish so many largesses and take away nothing, do all things remain in surplus? Never have princes lacked those who, with a grave brow and a gloomy scowl, contumaciously attended to the interests of the fisc; and the princes themselves were of their own accord greedy and rapacious, and such as did not need instructors: yet they always learned more from us against us. But access to your ears has been obstructed, both by all other things and most of all by avaricious adulations.
Locupletabant et fiscum et aerarium non tam Voconiae et Iuliae leges, quam maiestatis singulare et unicum crimen eorum, qui crimine vacarent. Huius tu metum penitus sustulisti, contentus magnitudine, qua nulli magis caruerunt, quam qui sibi maiestatem vindicabant. Reddita est amicis fides, liberis pietas, obsequium servis: verentur, et parent, et dominos habent.
Enriched were both the fisc and the aerarium not so much by the Voconian and Julian laws, as by the singular and unique charge of majesty against those who were free of any crime. You have utterly removed the fear of this, content with a greatness which none lacked more than those who were claiming majesty for themselves. Faith has been restored to friends, pietas to children, obsequium to slaves: they revere, and they obey, and they have masters.
For we are no longer the slaves of our prince’s friends, but we ourselves are [his friends]; nor does the Father of the Fatherland believe himself dearer to other men’s bond‑slaves than to his own citizens. You have freed all from the domestic accuser, and with one sign of public safety you have removed that, so to speak, servile war, in which you have benefitted not less the slaves than the masters. For these you made secure, those you made good.
You do not wish meanwhile to be praised; nor perhaps should such things be praised: yet they are welcome to those remembering that emperor suborning slaves against the heads of their masters, and demonstrating crimes which, as though denounced, he would punish—a great and inevitable evil, to be experienced by each person as many times as each should have slaves like the emperor’s.
In eodem genere ponendum est, quod testamenta nostra secura sunt: nec unus omnium, nunc quia scriptus, nunc quia non scriptus, heres. Non tu falsis, non tu iniquis tabulis advocaris. Nullius ad te iracundia, nullius impietas, nullius furor confugit: nec quia offendit alius, nuncuparis, sed quia ipse meruisti.
In the same kind must be placed this, that our testaments are secure: nor is one man the heir of all, now because he is written in, now because he is not written in. You are not summoned by false, you are not summoned by unjust tablets. No one’s wrath, no one’s impiety, no one’s fury takes refuge with you: nor are you named (nuncupated) because another has given offense, but because you yourself have deserved it.
You are written in by friends, by unknowns you are passed over: and there is no difference between a private person and a princeps, except that now you are loved by more; for you also love more. Hold, Caesar, to this course, and it will be proved by experiment whether it is more fertile and more abundant—not only for praise but for money—for a princeps, if men should wish to die with that man as heir, rather than if they are compelled. Your father donated many things, and you yourself have donated.
How few among princes did not count, in our patrimonies, even that which was from their own as theirs? Did not the gifts of the Caesars, as of kings, emulate hooks smeared with bait and snares overlaid for prey; when, with private faculties as if drained and entangled, they hauled back with themselves whatever they had touched?
You remember what you were wont to wish with us, what you were wont to complain of. For by your private judgment you bear yourself as a prince; nay rather, you show yourself better than the other you would have prayed to have for yourself. And thus we have been so imbued that we, for whom the sum of prayers was a prince better than the worst, now cannot endure anything except the best.
Life is safe for all, and the dignity of life; nor now is he accounted prudent and wise who passes his age in darkness. For indeed under a prince the rewards for virtues are the same as in liberty; nor is the recompense for good deeds only from conscience. You love the constancy of the citizens, and upright and vivid spirits you do not, as others, crush and depress, but you cherish and exalt.
It is advantageous to be good, since it suffices abundantly if one does no harm: to these you offer honors, to these priesthoods, to these provinces: these flourish by your friendship, these by your judgment. By that reward of integrity and industry the like are sharpened, the unlike are allured: for the prizes of the good and of the bad make men good and bad. Few are so strong in talent that they do not, according as it has turned out well or ill, pursue the shameful and flee the honorable; the rest, when a reward is given to idleness for labor, to sleep for vigilance, to luxury for frugality, pursue those same things by whose arts they see others have attained them: and such as those men are, such they wish to be and to seem; and while they wish, they become.
Et priores quidem principes, excepto patre tuo, praeterea uno aut altero, (et nimis dixi,) vitiis potius civium, quam virtutibus laetabantur: primum, quod in alio sua quemque natura delectat; deinde, quod patientiores servitutis arbitrabantur, quos non deceret esse nisi servos. Horum in sinum omnia congerebant: bonos autem otio aut situ abstrusos, et quasi sepultos, non nisi delationibus et periculis in lucem ac diem proferebant. Tu amicos ex optimis legis, et hercule aequum est, esse eos carissimos bono principi, qui invisi malo fuerint.
And indeed the earlier princes, except your father, and besides one or another (and I have said too much), rejoiced rather in the vices of the citizens than in their virtues: first, because one’s nature delights in its own in another; then, because they judged those more patient of servitude, whom it would not be fitting to be anything except slaves. Into the bosom of these they heaped everything: but the good, concealed by leisure or disuse, and as if buried, they brought forth into the light and day only by delations and dangers. You choose friends from the best; and, by Hercules, it is equitable that those should be dearest to a good prince who have been hateful to a bad one.
You know that, as domination and principate are diverse by nature, so the prince is not more pleasing to any than to those who most are burdened by a master. These, therefore, you advance, and you display them as if a specimen and exemplar of what sect of life, what kind of men, pleases you: and for that reason you have not yet taken up the censorship nor the prefecture of morals, because it pleases you to test our dispositions by benefactions rather than by remedies. And moreover, I do not know whether a prince contributes more to morals who allows men to be good, than he who compels them.
We are pliable, in whatever direction we are led by the prince, and, so to speak, we are followers. For we desire to be dear to him, to be approved by him; a thing which those unlike him would hope for in vain; and by the continuance of obedience we arrive at this, that almost all men live by the morals of one. Moreover, things are not so sinisterly constituted that those who can imitate an evil prince cannot imitate a good one.
Go on only, Caesar, and your actions will secure for your purpose the force and effect of a censorship. For the life of the prince is a censorship, and that perpetual: toward this we are directed, to this we are converted; nor do we have need so much of command as of example. Indeed, fear is an unfaithful teacher of rectitude.
Et quis terror valuisset efficere, quod reverentia tui effecit? Obtinuit aliquis, ut spectaculum pantomimorum populus Romanus tolli pateretur; sed non obtinuit, ut vellet. Rogatus es tu, quod cogebat alius, coepitque esse beneficium, quod necessitas fuerat.
And what terror would have availed to effect what reverence for you effected? Someone obtained that the Roman people should allow the spectacle of pantomimes to be removed; but he did not obtain that they should wish it. You were asked for that which another was compelling, and what had been necessity began to be a benefaction.
Nor indeed was it with a lesser concert that it was exacted of you to remove the pantomimes than it was of your father that he restore them. Both were right: for it was fitting that those whom a bad prince had removed should be restored; and that, once restored, they should be removed. For in those things which are well done by bad men, this measure must be kept: that it appear that the author was disapproved, not the deed.
Therefore that same people, once the spectator and applauder of a theatrical emperor, now even in regard to pantomimes turns away from and condemns effeminate arts and pursuits indecorous to the age. From which it is manifest that even the common crowd takes the discipline of princes: since they have done, all together, a thing which, if it were done by one, would be most severe. Be exalted with this glory of gravitas, Caesar, whereby you have achieved that what before was called force and command is now called morals.
They themselves chastised their own vices, they who deserved to be chastised; and the very same were correctors, who had needed correction. Therefore no one complains of your severity, and to complain is free. But since it is so arranged that men complain of no prince less than of the one about whom it is most permitted, in your age there is nothing at which all humankind does not rejoice and exult.
What honor you have for the masters of speaking, what distinction for the doctors of wisdom! How under you studies regained spirit and blood and their fatherland!—which the savagery of earlier times used to punish with exiles, when a prince, conscious in himself of all vices, relegated the arts inimical to vices not so much out of hatred as out of reverence.
But you hold those same arts in your embrace, in your eyes, in your ears. For you perform whatever they prescribe, and you cherish them as much as you are approved by them. Is there anyone, having professed the studies of humanity, who, when he recounts all that is yours, does not then, even among the foremost praises, bring forward the facility of your admissions?
With truly great spirit, your father had inscribed this citadel OF THE PUBLIC BUILDINGS with that name before you princes; yet it would have been in vain, had he not adopted one who could dwell in it as in public buildings. How well that title accords with your morals! and how you do everything thus, as though no other had inscribed it!
Therefore, not, as at other times, thunderstruck, nor with slowness as though about to enter a danger to our head, but secure and cheerful, when it is convenient, we assemble. And, the princeps admitting, sometimes there is something that keeps us at home as if more necessary: we are always excused with you, nor are we ever to be excused. For you know that each man secures for himself that he may see you, that he may frequent you; and by so much the more liberally and for a longer time you offer the supply of this pleasure.
Nor do flight and devastation follow your salutations. We linger, we stand firm, as in a common house which a most monstrous beast had lately fortified with very great terror: while, as if shut in some cavern, now she would lick the blood of her kin, now she would carry herself forth to the massacres and slaughters of the most illustrious citizens. At the doors horror and menaces loomed, and equal fear [was] for those admitted and those excluded.
To this, he himself was terrible also in encounter and in sight: pride on his brow, anger in his eyes, a feminine pallor on his body, on his face impudence suffused with much blush. No one dared to approach, no one to address, as he was always grasping at darkness and secrecy, nor ever came forth from his solitude, except to make solitude.
Ille tamen, quibus sibi parietibus et muris salutem suam tueri videbatur, dolum secum et insidias, et ultorem scelerum deum inclusit. Dimovit perfregitque custodias poena, angustosque per aditus et obstructos, non secus ac per apertas fores et invitantia limina, irrupit: longeque tunc illi divinitas sua, longe arcana illa cubilia saevique secessus, in quos timore, et superbia, et odio hominum agebatur. Quanto nunc tutior, quanto securior eadem domus, postquam non crudelitatis, sed amoris excubiis, non solitudine et claustris, sed civium celebritate defenditur!
He, however, within those walls and ramparts by which he seemed to himself to guard his own safety, shut in with himself deceit and ambushes, and the god, the avenger of crimes. Punishment removed and broke through the guards, and through narrow and obstructed adits, no otherwise than as through open doors and inviting thresholds, it burst in: and then his divinity was far from him, far those secret cubicles and savage retreats, into which he was driven by fear, and pride, and hatred of men. How much safer now, how much more secure is that same house, after it is defended not by the watches of cruelty, but of love, not by solitude and bars, but by the throng of citizens!
Do we learn anything, then, from experience, except that the most trustworthy custody of a prince is his own innocence? This is an inaccessible citadel, this an inexpugnable muniment—to be in need of no muniment. In vain will he gird himself with terror, who is not enclosed by charity; for arms are provoked by arms.
For you do not, before midday, bloated from a solitary dinner, as spectator and annotator, loom over your dining companions; nor, when they are fasting and empty, are you yourself full and belching, not so much setting foods before them as flinging them, which you would disdain to touch; and, having with difficulty endured that proud pretense of conviviality, you again withdraw to a clandestine cookshop and concealed luxury. Therefore we marvel not at gold, nor silver, nor the exquisite ingenuities of dinners, but at your suavity and pleasantness: for these there is no satiety, since all is sincere and true and adorned with gravitas. For neither the mysteries of foreign superstition nor obscene petulance roams about the prince’s table, but kindly invitation, and urbane jests, and honor paid to studies.
Sed quum rebus tuis ut participes perfruamur: quae habemus ipsi, quam propria, quam nostra sunt! Non enim exturbatis prioribus dominis, omne stagnum, omnem lacum, omnem etiam saltum, immensa possessione circumvenis: nec unius oculis flumina, fontes, maria deserviunt. Est, quod Caesar non suum videat; tandemque imperium principis, quam patrimonium, maius est.
But when we enjoy your goods as participants: the things we ourselves have—how proprietary, how our own they are! For you do not, with the prior owners driven out, encompass every pool, every lake, even every woodland, with an immense possession; nor do rivers, springs, seas serve the eyes of a single man. There is something that Caesar does not see as his own; and after all the prince’s imperium is greater than his patrimony.
For indeed he returns many things from the patrimony into the imperium, which former princes used to occupy, not that they themselves might enjoy them, but lest anyone else should. Therefore equal masters immigrate into the footprints and seats of the nobles, and the retreats of the most illustrious men are no longer worn by an inhabitant slave or collapse in foul desolation. It is granted to behold most beautiful houses, with grime wiped away, enlarged and flourishing.
A great merit of yours, not only toward human beings but toward the very buildings themselves: to arrest ruins, to drive out desolation, to vindicate immense works from destruction with the same spirit with which they were constructed. Those mute things indeed and lacking soul nevertheless seem to feel and to rejoice, because they shine, because they are frequented, because at last they have begun to belong to a knowing master. A huge placard of things for sale is carried about under the name of Caesar; wherefore the avarice of that man is to be detested, who coveted so many things, when he had so many superfluous ones.
Then it was deadly with the prince if for this one the house was more spacious, for that one the villa more pleasant. Now the prince seeks owners for these same properties, he himself installs them: those very gardens of a once great emperor, that suburban estate never anyone’s except Caesar’s, we bid for, we buy, we fill. So great is the benignity of the prince, so great the security of the times, that he deems us worthy of princely things, and we do not fear that we seem worthy.
Nor indeed do you offer to your citizens only the opportunity of buying, but you lavish and donate each of the most delightful things: thus, I say, you donate those things into which you have been elected, into which you have been adopted: you transfer what you have received by judgment, and you believe nothing more to be your own than what you have through friends.
It is enough for you, and more than enough, that you have succeeded a most frugal princeps; you prefer to cut back something and to amputate from those things which the princeps had left as if necessary. Moreover, your father would subtract from his own uses what the fortune of the imperium had given: you from yours, as your father. But how magnificent you are for the public! Here porticoes, there shrines are hurried on with hidden celerity, so that they may seem not consummated, but only changed.
Here the immense side of the Circus challenges the beauty of temples, a seat worthy of a people victor over the nations, and no less itself to be seen than the things that will be looked at from it: to be seen, moreover, both for the rest of its appearance and because the place of plebs and prince has been equalized. Since, over the whole expanse there is one face, all things continuous and equal, and the platform is not more appropriated to Caesar as spectator than the things he is to behold are his own. It will be permitted therefore for your citizens to gaze upon one another in turn: it will be granted to see, not the bedchamber of the prince, but the prince himself: sitting in public, among the people: the people to whom you have added five thousand places.
Horum unum si praestitisset alius, illi iam dudum radiatum caput, et media inter deos sedes auro staret aut ebore, augustioribusque aris et grandioribus victimis invocaretur. Tu delubra non nisi adoraturus intras, tibi maximus honor excubare pro templis, postibusque praetexi. Sic fit, ut dei summum inter homines fastigium servent, quum deorum ipse non adpetas.
Of these, if another had accomplished even one, he would long since have a radiate head, and a seat in the midst among the gods would stand for him in gold or in ivory, and he would be invoked with more august altars and greater victims. You enter the shrines only to adore; for you the greatest honor is that a vigil be kept before the temples, and that the doorposts be draped. Thus it comes about that the gods preserve their highest pinnacle among men, since you yourself do not aspire to that of the gods.
Therefore we behold one or two of your statues in the vestibule of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, and this one bronze. But a little before, all the entrances, all the steps, and the whole area gleamed, here with gold, there with silver, or rather was being polluted: when the simulacra of the gods, mingled with the statues of the incestuous princeps, grew foul. Therefore those bronze ones and few remain, and will remain, as long as the temple itself; but those golden and numberless, by their havoc and downfall, have made propitiation to the public joy.
It was a delight to dash the most supercilious faces to the ground, to press on with iron, to rage with axes, as if blood and pain followed each individual stroke. No one was so temperate in joy and belated gladness that it did not seem in the likeness of vengeance to behold mangled limbs, truncated members, and at last the grim and horrendous effigies cast down and kiln‑baked by flames; so that from that terror and those threats they were transformed by the fires into the uses and pleasures of men. With similar reverence, Caesar, you allow thanks for your goodness to be rendered not before your Genius, but before the numen of Jupiter Best and Greatest: that to him we owe whatever we owe, and that whatever you do well is the gift of him who gave you.
Previously indeed, vast herds of sacrificial victims, along the Capitoline way, with a great part of their number as if intercepted, were compelled to turn aside from the road: when the most atrocious effigy of the most savage master was worshiped with as much gore of victims as he himself was pouring out of human blood.
Omnia, Patres Conscripti, quae de aliis principibus a me aut dicuntur, aut dicta sunt, eo pertinent, ut ostendam, quam longa consuetudine corruptos depravatosque mores principatus parens noster reformet et corrigat. Alioqui nihil non parum grate sine comparatione laudatur. Praeterea hoc primum erga optimum imperatorem piorum civium officium est, insequi dissimiles.
All things, Conscript Fathers, which about other princes by me either are said or have been said, aim at this: that I may show how, corrupted and depraved by long custom, the mores of the Principate our parent reforms and corrects. Otherwise, without comparison, nothing is praised with sufficient grace. Moreover, this is the first duty of pious citizens toward the best emperor: to pursue and censure those unlike him.
He would permit, I believe, that the fame and life of him be assailed, who was avenging death; nor would he interpret as spoken against himself the things that were said about one most similar. Wherefore I, Caesar, compare with all your gifts, and set before many, this: that it is allowed us both to be vindicated daily, even with regard to the past, upon evil emperors, and to forewarn future ones by example, that there is no place, no time, in which the shades of baleful princes find rest from the execrations of posterity. Wherefore the more steadfastly, Conscript Fathers, let us bring forth both our dolors and our joys: let us rejoice in those things of which we have the fruition; let us groan over those things which we were suffering.
At the same time both things must be done under a good prince. Let this be done by our secrets, this by our conversations, this by our very thanksgivings; and let them remember that the emperor in safety is thus most of all praised, if those earlier, of contrary desert, are reproved. For when those who come after are silent about a bad prince, it is manifest that the present one is doing the same things.
Et quis iam locus miserae adulationis manebat ignarus, quum laudes imperatorum ludis etiam et commissionibus celebrarentur, saltarentur, atque in omne ludibrium effeminatis vocibus, modis, gestibus, frangerentur? Sed illud indignum, quod eodem tempore in senatu et in scena, ab histrione et a consule laudabantur. Tu procul a tui cultu ludicras artes removisti.
And what place now remained ignorant of wretched adulation, when the praises of the emperors were celebrated at the games and even at the commissations, were danced, and were broken into every mockery with effeminate voices, modes, and gestures? But this was unworthy: that at the same time in the senate and on the stage they were being praised by an actor and by a consul. You have removed the ludic/theatrical arts far from your worship.
Therefore it is serious songs and the eternal honor of the annals that cultivate you, not this brief and shameful proclamation; nay rather, with so much the greater consensus the theaters themselves will rise up into veneration of you, the more the stages will be silent about you. But why do I marvel at that, when even those honors which are offered to you by us you are wont either to taste most sparingly or altogether to refuse? Formerly nothing so vulgar, so small, was transacted in the senate that they did not linger over laudations of the princes, whenever the necessity of giving one’s censure (opinion) had occurred.
We were being consulted about enlarging the number of gladiators, or about instituting a collegium of craftsmen; and as if the frontiers of the empire had been extended, now we would dedicate huge arches and inscriptions that would surpass the pediments of temples, now even months—and not these singly—to the name of the Caesars. They put up with it, and rejoiced, as though they had deserved it. But now which of us, as if forgetful of him about whom the report is being made, consumes the duty of delivering an opinion in the honor of the princeps?
The praise of your moderation is this our constancy: we comply with you, because we come into the curia not for a contest of adulations, but for the use and office of justice, intending to render this favor to your simplicity and truth, that we believe you to will the things you wish, and to be unwilling the things you do not wish. We begin from that point, we end there, from which to begin, and at which to end, would not be possible under another prince. For many, after honors were decreed, did not accept them; no one before was so great as to be believed to have been unwilling that they be decreed.
Ibit in secula, fuisse principem, cui florenti et incolumi, nunquam nisi modici honores, saepius nulli decernerentur. Et sane, si velimus cum priorum temporum necessitate certare, vincemur: ingeniosior est enim ad excogitandum simulatio veritate, servitus libertate, metus amore. Simul quum iampridem novitas omnis adulatione consumpta sit, non alius erga te novus honor superest, quam si aliquando de te tacere audeamus.
It will go into the ages, that there was a princeps, for whom, while he was flourishing and unharmed, never except moderate honors, more often none, were decreed. And truly, if we should wish to contend with the necessity of former times, we will be conquered: for simulation is more ingenious for contriving than truth, servitude than liberty, fear than love. At the same time, since long ago every novelty has been consumed by adulation, no other new honor toward you remains, than if at some time we should dare to be silent about you.
Come now, if ever our piety has broken silence and overcome your modesty, whatever things and of whatever sort we decree, you do not refuse! so that it may appear that you repudiate the most ample honors not from pride and fastidiousness, you who would not disdain the lesser. This is more comely, Caesar, than if you refused all: for to refuse all is of ambition; to choose the most sparing is of moderation.
By this moderation you take counsel both for us and for the treasury: for us indeed, because you free from all suspicion; but for the treasury, because you apply a measure to its expenditures, as one who is not going to refill what has been exhausted with the goods of the innocent. Therefore your effigies stand, such as once were dedicated by private persons on account of outstanding merits toward the republic. Statues of Caesar are seen in the same material as those of the Brutuses and of the Camilluses.
Nor does the cause differ. For those kings drove the enemy and victor from the walls; this man wards off and removes kingship itself, and whatever else captivity begets; and he occupies the seat of the princeps, that there may be no place for a lord. And to me, as I contemplate your wisdom, it seems the less marvelous that you either deprecate or moderate those mortal and perishable titles.
You know, indeed, where the true, where the everlasting glory of a prince lies: where there are honors upon which nothing is permitted to the flames, nothing to old age, nothing to successors. For oblivion demolishes and obscures arches and statues, altars too and temples; posterity neglects and carps at them. By contrast, the spirit that is a despiser of ambition, and a tamer and bridler of infinite power, flourishes by age itself, nor is it more praised by any than by those to whom it is least necessary. Moreover, as soon as anyone has been made prince, immediately his fame—uncertain whether good or bad, but at any rate eternal.
Therefore, not the perpetual fame of a prince which remains against his will, but the good kind is to be desired: and that, moreover, is prolonged not by images and statues, but by virtue and merits. Nay more, even in these lighter things—the form and figure of the prince—nothing so well as the favor of men expresses and preserves them, not gold or silver. And this indeed befalls you amply and in full measure, whose most joyful face and amiable countenance sits on the lips, in the eyes, and in the mind of all the citizens.
Adnotasse vos credo, Patres Conscripti, iamdudum me non eligere, quae referam: propositum est enim mihi, principem laudare, non principis facta. Nam laudabilia multa etiam mali faciunt; ipse laudari, nisi optimus, non potest. Quare non alia maior, imperator auguste, gloria tua, quam quod agentibus tibi gratias nihil velandum est, nihil omittendum est.
I believe you have noted, Conscript Fathers, that for a long time now I do not choose what I am to report: for my purpose is to praise the princeps, not the princeps’s deeds. For many laudable things even bad men do; he himself cannot be praised, unless he be the best. Wherefore there is no greater glory of yours, august emperor, than this: that, as we render thanks to you, nothing must be veiled, nothing omitted.
For what is there in your principate that anyone’s predication ought either to leap over or to pass by? What moment—nay, what very point of time—is either sterile of beneficence or void of praise? Are not all things of such a sort that he seems to have praised you best who has narrated most faithfully?
Whence it comes about that my discourse spreads almost into the immeasurable: and I am not yet speaking about the biennium. How many things I have said about moderation, and how many more still remain! as that, that you accepted the second consulship, since the princeps and father was conferring it.
But after the gods transferred to you the summit of empire, and, along with the power over all things, even the power over yourself; you refused the third consulship, although you could discharge so excellent a consulship. It is a great thing to defer honor; greater, glory. Should I marvel at the consulship performed, or at the one not accepted?
performed not in this leisure of the city, and in the inmost bosom of peace; but alongside barbarian peoples: as those were wont, for whom it was the custom to change the praetexta for the paludamentum, and to follow unknown lands with victory. Fair for the imperium, glorious for you, when allies and friends approached you in their own fatherland, in their own seats. A seemly visage of a consul: after many ages a tribunal built of green turf, and surrounded not only with the honor of the fasces, but of pila and standards.
They augmented the majesty of the presiding magistrate, the diverse attire of the petitioners, and their dissonant voices, and discourse rare without an interpreter. It is magnificent to render rights to citizens; what of rendering them to enemies? It is splendid to press a certain part of the forum; what of pressing vast fields beneath the curule chair and the footprint of a victor?
to overhang threatening banks, secure and tranquil; what of scorning the barbarian roars, and repressing the hostile terror by the ostentation not so much of arms as of togas? And so they hailed as emperor not you before your images, but yourself present and listening; and the name which others earned with enemies subdued, you were earning with enemies despised.
Haec laus acti consulatus; illa dilati, quod adhuc initio principatus, ut iam excusatus honoribus et expletus, consulatum recusasti: quem novi imperatores destinatum aliis, in se transferebant. Fuit etiam, qui in principatus sui fine consulatum, quem dederat ipse, magna ex parte iam gestum, extorqueret et raperet. Hoc ergo honore, quem et incipientes principes et desinentes adeo concupiscunt, ut auferant, tu, otioso ac vacante, privatis cessisti.
This is the praise of a consulship performed; that of a consulship deferred is this, that while still at the beginning of your principate, as if already excused by honors and filled up, you refused the consulship: which new emperors transferred to themselves, though destined for others. There was even one who, at the end of his principate, extorted and snatched back the consulship which he himself had given, already for the most part carried through. This honor, therefore, which emperors both beginning and ending so desire that they take it away, you, when it was idle and vacant, ceded to private citizens.
Was the third consulship odious either to you, or the first to the princeps? For you did indeed enter upon the second as emperor, yet under an emperor; and nothing in that can be imputed either to honor or to precedent, except obedience. So then, the city which has seen men five times, and even six times, consuls—not those who, with liberty now expiring, were created by force and tumult, but those to whom, while they were set aside and absent, the consulship was carried out into their country estates—in this city you, the princeps of the human race, refused a third consulship as too weighty?
Non te ad exemplar eius voco, qui continuis consulatibus fecerat longum quendam et sine discrimine annum: his te confero, quos certum est, quoties consules fuerunt, non sibi praestitisse. Erat in senatu ter consul, quum tu tertium consulatum recusabas. Onerosum nescio quid verecundiae tuae consensus noster indixerat, ut princeps toties consul esses, quoties senator tuus: nimia modestia istud, etiam privatus, recusasses.
I do not summon you to the exemplar of him who by continuous consulships had made the year a sort of long and without distinction one: I compare you to those whom it is certain that, as often as they were consuls, they did not put themselves forward. There was in the senate a man consul three times, when you were refusing a third consulship. Our consensus had imposed I know not what burdensome thing upon your modesty, that, as princeps, you should be consul as many times as your senator was consul: you would have refused that, out of excessive modesty, even as a private citizen.
It thus befell that private citizens opened the year and unbarred the fasti; and this too was a token of liberty restored, that the consul was someone other than Caesar. Thus, with the kings driven out, the year began free; thus, once servitude was repulsed, private names were introduced into the fasti. Miserable in their ambition, who were always consuls, inasmuch as they were always princes!
Although it can seem not so much ambition as envy and malignity to possess all the years, and to transmit that supreme ornament of the purple only when it has been preempted and anticipated, your magnanimity—or your modesty, or your benignity—should I admire first? It was magnanimity to abstain from an ever-sought honor; modesty, to yield; benignity, to enjoy it through others.
Sed iam tempus est, te ipsi consulatui praestare, ut maiorem eum suscipiendo gerendoque augustiorem facias. Nam saepius recursare, ambiguam ac potius illam interpretationem habet, tanquam minorem putes. Tu quidem ut maximum recusasti; sed hoc persuadere nemini poteris, nisi aliquando et non recusa veris.
But now it is time for you to present yourself to the consulate itself, so that by undertaking and administering it you may make it greater and more august. For to keep recusing yourself has that ambiguous—indeed rather this—interpretation, as though you think it the lesser. You, to be sure, have refused it as the greatest; but you will be able to persuade no one of this, unless at some point you also do not refuse.
When you deprecate arches, when trophies, when statues: an indulgence must be granted to your modesty; let those, to be sure, be said to be yours: but when we demand, [that you undertake and administer the consulship, we demand,] that you teach future princes to renounce inertia, to defer delights for a little while, for a little while and at least for the very briefest time, as though roused from that sleep of felicity, to don the praetexta, which, although they could give it, they have preoccupied; to ascend the curule seat, which they detain; to be at last what they have desired, and not therefore to wish to become consuls only so that they may have been. You have borne a second consulship, I know: that you can impute to the armies, that to the provinces, that even to the other nations; you cannot to us. We hear indeed that you have discharged every duty of a consul; but we hear it.
Let it be permitted to test whether that very second consulship has brought you any pride. The intervening year has much power in changing the morals of men; in princes, more. We have indeed learned that in one to whom any virtue falls, all are inherent: yet we desire to try whether even now one and the same thing holds—that a good consul and a good prince are one.
Atque ego video, proximo anno consulatus recusandi hanc praecipuam fuisse rationem, quod eum absens gerere non poteras: sed iam urbi votisque publicis redditus, quid est, in quo magis sis approbaturus, quae quantaque fuerint, quae desiderabamus? Parum est, ut in curiam venias, nisi et convocas: ut intersis senatui, nisi et praesides; ut censentes audias, nisi et perrogas. Vis illud augustissimum consulum aliquando tribunal maiestati suae reddere?
And I see that last year this was the chief rationale for refusing the consulship: that you could not conduct it while absent; but now, returned to the city and to the public vows, what is there in which you will more approve—what and how great were the things we were desiring? It is too little that you come into the Curia, unless you also convene it; that you be present at the Senate, unless you also preside; that you hear those casting votes, unless you also call for the votes. Do you wish at length to restore that most august consular tribunal to its own majesty?
For what would it matter to the Republic, if you were a private person, whether it had you only as consul, or also as senator; know that this now is what matters, whether it have you only as princeps, or also as consul. To these so many and so great reasons, although the modesty of our Princeps long resisted, at length nevertheless it yielded. But how did it yield?
That honor in wars was once granted—though sparingly—to allies, to companions in dangers; which you have bestowed upon exceptional men, men who indeed have deserved well and bravely of you, but deserved in the toga. You are bound, Caesar, by the care of both and the vigilance of both. But in a prince it is rare and almost unheard-of that he should think himself obligated, or, if he does think so, to love it.
You bring it about, indeed, that each person seems to have rendered to you just as much as he has received from you. What should I pray for this benignity? except that you may always oblige, and be obliged; and that you make it uncertain whether it is more expedient for your citizens to owe to you, or to have rendered.
Equidem illum antiquum senatum contueri videbar, quum ter consule assidente, tertio consulem designatum rogari sententiam cernerem. Quanti tunc illi, quantusque tu! Accidit quidem, ut corpora quamlibet ardua et excelsa, procerioribus admota, decrescant; item, ut altissimae civium dignitates collatione fastigii tui quasi deprimantur, quantoque propius ad magnitudinem tuam adscenderint, tantum etiam a sua descendisse videantur. Illos tamen tu, quamquam non potuisti tibi aequare, quum velles, adeo in edito collocasti, ut tantum super ceteros, quantum infra te cernerentur.
Indeed I seemed to behold that ancient Senate, when, with a thrice-consul sitting, I perceived a consul designate for the third time being asked for his opinion. How great then were those men, and how great you! It does indeed happen that bodies, however steep and lofty, when set beside taller ones, diminish; likewise that the very highest dignities of citizens are, by comparison with your pinnacle, as it were pressed down—and the nearer they have ascended to your magnitude, so much the more they seem to have descended from their own. Yet those men you, although you could not make them equal to yourself, even if you wished, have placed on so high an eminence that they are seen to stand so far above the rest as they are seen to stand below you.
If you had conferred the third consulship of a single man into the same year as your own, it would be held a specimen of a vast spirit. For just as it is of felicity to be able as much as you wish, so it is of magnitude to will as much as you are able. To be praised indeed is he who merited a third consulship; but more, he under whom he merited it: great and to be remembered is he who took so great a reward; but greater, he who gave it to the recipient.
What? What of the fact that, by the sanctity of your college, you adorned two alike with your third consulship? so that it may be doubtful to no one that this was for you the chief cause of extending your consulship: that it might embrace the consulships of two, and give you as colleague not to one alone.
Each of them had lately borne a second consulship granted by your father—that is, how much less than if by you?—granted: the fasces, a little before dismissed, were still wandering before the eyes of each; the solemn and heralding shout of the lictors had lodged in the ears of each; when again the curule chair, and again the purple: as once, when the enemy was at hand and the commonwealth brought into utmost crisis demanded a man experienced in honors, it was not consulships that were given back to the same men, but the same men that were given back to the consulships. So great is your power of well‑doing, that your indulgence rivals necessities. Just now they had put off the bordered togas (togae praetextae); let them resume them: just now they had ordered the lictors to depart; let them recall them: just now the congratulating friends had withdrawn; let them return.
Omnium quidem beneficiorum, quae merentibus tribuuntur, non ad ipsos gaudium magis, quam ad similes redundat: praecipue tamen ex horum consulatu non ad partem aliquam senatus, sed ad totum senatum tanta laetitia pervenit, ut eundem honorem omnes sibi et dedisse et accepisse videantur. Nempe enim hi sunt, quos senatus, quum publicis sumptibus minuendis optimum quemque praeficeret, elegit, et quidem primos. Hoc est igitur, hoc est, quod penitus illos animo Caesaris insinuavit.
Of all benefactions, which are bestowed upon the deserving, the joy overflows not so much to them themselves as to their similars: especially, however, from the consulship of these men, so great a gladness comes not to some part of the senate, but to the whole senate, that all seem both to have given and to have received the same honor for themselves. For indeed these are those whom the senate, when it was appointing each best man to the task of reducing public expenditures, chose—and indeed chose as the first. This it is, therefore, this it is, which has insinuated them deep into Caesar’s mind.
He keeps you, when present, and you even when absent, in his counsel. For the third time he made consuls those whom you had elected: and he did this in the order in which they had been elected by you. Surely a great honor for you, whether he most cherishes the same men whom he knows to be most dear to you: or he prefers no one to them, although he may love someone more.
Rewards have been set forth for the seniors, examples for the youths: let them approach, let them frequent houses at last secure and open: whoever looks up to men approved by the Senate, this man most of all merits the princeps’ favor. For he thinks that there accrues to himself whatever is added to each; and he sets no glory in this, that he is greater than all, unless those be very great, than whom he is greater. Persist, Caesar, in that rationale of purpose, and believe us to be such as the reputation of each is.
To this one direct your ears, to this one your eyes: do not regard clandestine estimations, nor whispers laying ambushes for none so much as the hearers. It is better to place credence in all than in individuals: for individuals can deceive and be deceived: no one has deceived everyone, nor have all deceived anyone.
Revertor iam ad consulatum tuum: etsi sunt quaedam ad consulatum quidem pertinentia, ante consulatum tamen. In primis quod comitiis tuis interfuisti, candidatus, non consulatus tantum, sed immortalitatis, et gloriae, et exempli, quod sequerentur boni principes, mali mirarentur. Vidit te populus Romanus in illa vetere potestatis suae sede: perpessus es longum illud carmen comitiorum, nec iam irridendam moram: consulque sic factus es, ut unus ex nobis, quos facis consules.
I return now to your consulship: although there are certain things that indeed pertain to the consulship, yet before the consulship. In the first place, that you were present at your own comitia, a candidate not only of the consulship, but of immortality, and glory, and an example which good princes might follow, the bad might marvel at. The Roman people saw you in that ancient seat of its power: you endured that long chant of the comitia, and a delay now no longer to be mocked: and you were thus made consul, as one of us, whom you make consuls.
How few of the preceding princes accorded this honor either to the consulship or to the People? Were not others, limp with sleep and brimming from yesterday’s supper, waiting for messengers of their own elections? Others indeed were pervigil and sleepless, but within their bedchambers they were contriving exiles and slaughter against those very consuls by whom consuls were proclaimed.
O perverse and unknowing of true majesty, ambition—to crave an honor which you disdain, to disdain what you have craved! And when from the nearest gardens you look out upon the field and the comitia, to be so far from them, as though you were kept apart by the Danube and the Rhine! Do you turn away, for your own honor, the hoped-for suffrages, and, content with having ordered yourself to be proclaimed consul, do you not preserve even the semblance of a free commonwealth? Do you, at last, abstain from the comitia, secluded and concealed, as if there for you not a consulship were being given, but your imperium were being abrogated?
This persuasion possessed the most arrogant lords, that they seemed to themselves to cease to be princes if they did anything as though senators. Most, however, were kept back not so much by pride as by a certain fear. Or, conscious to themselves of debaucheries and incestuous nights, would they dare to pollute the auspices and to contaminate the consecrated field with a nefarious footprint?
They had not so despised gods and men as to be able, in that most spacious seat, to bear and to endure the eyes of men and gods cast upon them. To you, by contrast, both your moderation counseled, and your sanctity, that you exhibit yourself both to the religion of the gods and to the judgments of men.
Alii consulatum ante quam acciperent, tu et dum accipis, meruisti. Peracta erant solennia comitiorum, si principem cogitares, iamque se omnis turba commoverat, quum tu, mirantibus cunctis, accedis ad consulis sellam: adigendum te praebes in verba principibus ignota, nisi quum iurare cogerent alios. Vides, quam necessarium fuerit consulatum non recusare?
Others merited the consulship before they received it; you have merited it even while you are receiving it. The solemn rites of the comitia had been completed—if you were thinking as a princeps—and now the whole throng had begun to stir, when you, all wondering, approach the consul’s seat: you offer yourself to be bound under the words of the oath, words unknown to princes, except when they were forcing others to swear. Do you see how necessary it was not to refuse the consulship?
We would not have supposed you would have done that, if you had refused. I am stupefied, Conscript Fathers, nor yet do I sufficiently trust either my eyes or my ears; and again and again I ask myself whether I have heard, or seen. Did then the Imperator, and Caesar, and Augustus, the Pontifex Maximus, stand before the very bosom of the consul?
And did the consul sit, with the emperor standing before him? And he sat untroubled, unterrified, and as though it were wont to be done so. Nay rather, even sitting he dictated the oath to the one standing, and he swore, expressed, and explained the words by which he would consecrate his own head and his own house to the wrath of the gods, if he had knowingly deceived.
In rostris quoque simili religione ipse te legibus subiecisti: legibus, Caesar, quas nemo principi scripsit. Sed tu nihil amplius vis tibi licere, quam nobis: sic fit, ut nos tibi plus velimus. Quod ego nunc primum audio, nunc primum disco: non est princeps supra leges, sed leges supra principem: idem Caesari consuli, quod ceteris, non licet.
In the Rostra too, by a like scruple, you yourself subjected yourself to the laws: to laws, Caesar, which no one wrote for a princeps. But you wish nothing more to be lawful for yourself than for us: thus it comes about that we wish more for you. This I now for the first time hear, now for the first time learn: the princeps is not above the laws, but the laws above the princeps: the same is not permitted to Caesar the consul as to the rest.
He swears upon the law, with the gods attending; for to whom would they attend more than to Caesar? He swears, these men observing, to whom the same oath is to be sworn: not otherwise unaware that by no one is that which he has sworn to be guarded more religiously than by him whose chief interest it is not to perjure himself. And so, even when you were about to depart from the consulship, you swore that you had done nothing against the laws.
This was great when you promised; greater after you fulfilled. Now to come forth so often onto the rostra, and to wear down that ascent, that place of the pride of princes, to take up magistracies here, to lay them down here—how worthy of you, and how different from the custom of those who, after a very few days, would cast away by edict a consulship they had held—nay, had not held! This in place of a public assembly, in place of the rostra, in place of an oath: namely, that the last acts might agree with the first; and that by this alone it might be understood that they themselves had been consuls, because others had not been.
Non transsilivi, Patres Conscripti, Principis nostri consulatum; sed eundem in locum contuli, quidquid de iureiurando dicendum erat. Neque enim, ut in sterili ieiunaque materia, eandem speciem laudis diducere ac spargere, atque identidem tractare debemus. Illuxerat primus consulatus tui dies, quo tu curiam ingressus, nunc singulos, nunc universos adhortatus es resumere libertatem, capessere quasi communis imperii curas, invigilare publicis utilitatibus et insurgere.
I did not leap over, Conscript Fathers, the consulship of our Prince; but I brought together into the same place whatever had to be said about the oath. For indeed we ought not, as in a sterile and jejune subject-matter, to draw out and scatter the same form of praise, and to handle it again and again. The day of your first consulship had dawned, on which you, having entered the Curia, exhorted now individuals, now all together, to resume liberty, to take up, as it were, the cares of the common sovereignty, to keep watch for the public interests and to rise up.
All before you said those same things, yet no one before you was believed. There were, before their eyes, the shipwrecks of many, whom an insidious tranquility, carrying them forward, had been smitten by an unforeseen whirlwind. For what sea was so unfaithful as the blandishments of those princes, in whom there was such levity, such fraud, that it was easier to have them angry than propitious?
For neither up to now have we been idle through a certain sloth and inborn torpor: terror and fear, and that wretched prudence fashioned out of dangers, warned that we should turn away our eyes, ears, minds from the republic (but in fact there was absolutely no republic). But now, relying and leaning upon your right hand and your promises, we unbar mouths shut in by long servitude, and we unloose a tongue bridled by so many evils. For you wish us to be such as you command, and that there be nothing in your exhortations painted-over, nothing insidious, finally nothing that prepares to deceive one who trusts—not without peril to the deceiver.
Therefore what he has advised will always stand; and he will know that, whenever we experience the liberty which he gave, we are obeying him. Nor is there any need to fear lest he think us incautious, if we consistently make use of the good faith of the times, we whom he remembers to have lived otherwise under a bad prince. To declare vows both for the eternity of the empire and for the welfare of the citizens?
nay rather, we were accustomed to do so for the safety of the princes, and on their account for the eternity of the empire. As for our empire, it is worth the effort to note what words have been undertaken: IF YOU SHALL HAVE GOVERNED THE REPUBLIC WELL AND TO THE ADVANTAGE OF ALL. Worthy vows, which should always be undertaken, and always be discharged.
By your very self as author, Caesar, the republic dealt with the gods, that they should keep you safe and unharmed, if you had kept the rest safe; if the contrary, that they too should turn their eyes away from the guardianship of your person [head], and leave you to vows which would not be taken up openly. Others chose to outlive the republic, and contrived it; to you your own safety is odious, if it is not joined with the safety of the republic. You allow nothing to be wished on your behalf, unless it be expedient for the wishers; and every year you send the gods into council about you; and you demand that they change their sentence, if you have ceased to be such as you were when elected. But with vast conscience, Caesar, you make a pact with the gods, that they keep you, if you shall have merited it; since, as to whether you merit it, you know that none knows it more than the gods.
Does he not seem to you, Conscript Fathers, to be turning these matters over with himself by day and by night? I indeed, against myself, if the utility of all so demanded, even armed the hand of the prefect; but I do not deprecate either the gods’ wrath or their negligence: I beg, rather, and adjure, that the republic never, being unwilling, may undertake vows on my behalf; or, if it should undertake them unwillingly, that it not be obliged.
Capis ergo, Caesar, salutis tuae gloriosissimum fructum ex consensu deorum. Nam quum excipias, ut ITA DEMUM TE DII SERVENT, SE BENE REMPUBLICAM ET EX UTILITATE OMNIUM REXERIS: certus es, te bene rempublicam gerere, cum servent. Itaque securus tibi et laetus dies exit, qui principes alios cura et metu distinebat: quum suspensi et attoniti, parumque confisi patientia nostra, hinc atque inde publicae servitutis nuntios exspectarent.
You therefore, Caesar, reap the most glorious fruit of your safety from the consensus of the gods. For when you receive this, that ONLY THEN MAY THE GODS PRESERVE YOU, IF YOU SHALL HAVE RULED THE REPUBLIC WELL AND FOR THE UTILITY OF ALL: you are certain that you are managing the republic well, since they preserve you. And so the day passes for you secure and joyful, a day which was detaining other princes with care and fear: while, in suspense and astonished, and too little trusting in our patience, they were awaiting from every side tidings of public servitude.
And if by chance rivers, snows, winds had impeded some, straightway they believed this to be that which they merited; nor was there any distinction in fear: for the reason that, when from a bad prince one is feared as a, so to speak, successor, whoever is more worthy—since there is no one who is not more worthy—everyone is feared. Your security is deferred by neither the delay of messengers nor the tardity of letters. You know that an oath is sworn to you everywhere, since you yourself have sworn to all.
Everyone provides this for himself. We do indeed love you, in so far as you merit; yet we do not do that out of love of you, but of ourselves: nor may there ever dawn a day on which, for you, not our utility but faith, Caesar, would solemnly proclaim vows. A shameful tutelage of a prince is that which can be imputed to him.
I am minded to complain that princes do not inquire into our secrets, except those whom we hate. For if there were the same care for the good as for the bad, how great an admiration of you everywhere, what joy and exultation you would discover! what conversations of all with their wives and children, what conversations even with their domestic altars and hearths!
Cepisti tamen et affectus nostri et iudicii experimentum, quantum maximum praesens capere potuisti, illo die, quo solicitudini pudorique candidatorum ita consuluisti, ne ullius gaudium alterius tristitia turbaret. Alii cum laetitia, alii cum spe recesserunt: multis gratulandum, nemo consolandus fuit. Nec ideo segnius iuvenes nostros exhortatus es, senatum circumirent, senatui supplicarent, atque ita a principe sperarent honores, si a senatu petissent.
You nevertheless took a trial of both our affections and our judgment, as great a one as, being present, you could take, on that day when you so took thought for the solicitude and modesty of the candidates that no one’s joy was disturbed by another’s sadness. Some departed with joy, others with hope: many were to be congratulated, no one to be consoled. Nor on that account did you any the less exhort our young men to canvass the senate, to supplicate the senate, and thus to hope for honors from the princeps, if they had sought them from the senate.
On that very point, if any were in need of an example, you added that they should imitate you. An arduous example, Caesar, and one which no more can any of the candidates imitate than the princes. For who even for a single day has been a candidate more reverent of the senate than you—both in your whole life and at that very time when you sit in judgment about the candidates?
Or did anything other than reverence for the Senate obtain from you, that you would proffer to the youths of a most illustrious lineage the honor owed to their stock—yet before it should be due? At last, therefore, nobility is not obscured, but illustrated by the prince: at last those grandsons of mighty men, those descendants of liberty, neither does Caesar terrify, nor does he quail; nay rather, with hastened honors he amplifies and augments them, and restores them to their forefathers’ stature. If anywhere there is anything of ancient stock, if anything of residual clarity; this he embraces, and re-warms, and brings forth into the service of the commonwealth.
Praefuerat provinciae quaestor unus ex candidatis, inque ea civitatis amplissimae reditus egregia constitutione fundaverat. Hoc senatui allegandum putasti. Cur enim te principe, qui generis tui claritatem virtute superasti, deterior esset conditio eorum, qui posteros habere nobiles mererentur, quam eorum, qui parentes habuissent?
One of the candidates had presided over a province as quaestor, and in it he had founded on an excellent constitution the revenues of a very great city. This you thought should be alleged to the senate. For why, with you as emperor—who have surpassed the splendor of your lineage by virtue—should the condition of those who would merit to have noble descendants be worse than that of those who had had noble parents?
O how worthy you are, to announce these things always about our magistracies, and to make men good not by punishments of the wicked, but by rewards of the good! The youth has been kindled, and has raised their spirits to emulate what it saw being praised; nor was there anyone whom this thought did not come over, since each knew that whatever was done well by anyone in the provinces, you knew it all. It is useful, Caesar, and salutary for the presidents of the provinces to have this confidence: that for their sanctity and industry the greatest prize is prepared—the judgment of the Princeps, the suffrage of the Princeps.
Up to this point, however, even the most sincere and straight natures, although it did not twist them, that miserable, yet true reckoning did dull them. For you see: if I shall have done anything well, Caesar will not know; or if he will know, he will not render testimony. Thus that same either negligence or malignity of princes, when it promised impunity to ill-counseled deeds and no reward to right deeds, did not deter those from crime, and did deter these from praise.
But now, if someone has governed a province well, to him a dignity sought by virtue is offered. For the field of honor and glory lies open to all: from this let each seek what he desires, and, having attained it, let him owe it to himself. To the provinces also for the future you have remitted both the fear of injuries and the necessity of accusing.
I wish that he who has governed a province should adduce not only the codicils of friends, nor petitions cajoled by an urban conspiracy, but the decrees of the colonies, the decrees of the cities. Cities, peoples, nations are well enrolled by the suffrages of consular men. The most efficacious kind of requesting on behalf of a candidate is to give thanks.
Iam quo assensu senatus, quo gaudio exceptum est, quum candidatis, ut quemque nominaveras, osculo occurreres! devexus quidem in planum, et quasi unus ex gratulantibus. Te mirer magis, an improbem illos, qui effecerunt, ut istud magnum videretur?
Now, with what assent of the senate, with what joy was it received, when you went to meet the candidates, each one whom you had nominated, with a kiss! You indeed were sloped down to the level, and as though one of the congratulators. Should I admire you more, or rather blame those who brought it about that that seemed great?
when, as if affixed to their curule seats, they proffered only a hand—and that, too, hesitantly and sluggishly, and like men who would put it to account. An unusual sight thus befell our eyes: the princeps and the candidate [of the equestrian order] standing together; [it befell us] to behold the giver of honor as a peer to those receiving it. How truly was that deed of yours celebrated by the entire senate with an acclamation, SO MUCH GREATER, SO MUCH MORE AUGUST!
Indeed, since you lent to the oration your eyes, your voice, your hand: so that, if you had entrusted those same things to others, you would have fulfilled all the measures of comity. And even when the suffragators received the candidates’ names with the honor with which they are accustomed: you too were among those receiving, and from the mouth of the prince that senatorial assent was heard; and the testimony which we rejoiced to offer before the prince to the deserving was being offered by the prince. You were therefore accomplishing it, when you said, THE BEST: for not only their life was being approved by you, but the judgment of the senate was being approved; and the senate rejoiced that it, rather than those whom you praised, was being adorned.
Nam quod precatus es, ut illa ipsa ordinatio comitiorum bene ac feliciter eveniret NOBIS, REI PUBLICAE, TIBI; nonne tale est, ut nos hunc ordinem votorum convertere debeamus? deos denique obsecrare, ut omnia, quae facis quaeque facies, prospere cedant TIBI, REI PUBLICAE, NOBIS? vel, si brevius sit optandum, ut UNI TIBI?
For, as to what you prayed, that that very ordering of the comitia might turn out well and happily for US, FOR THE REPUBLIC, FOR YOU; is it not such that we ought to reverse this order of vows? to beseech the gods, that all the things which you do and which you will do may go prosperously for YOU, FOR THE REPUBLIC, FOR US? or, if it should be wished more briefly, for YOU ALONE?
in which both the Republic and we are. There was a time, and too long it was, when some things were adverse, others prosperous, to the princeps and to us: now both joyous and sad things are shared by you with us; nor can we be happy without you any more than you can without us. Or, if you could, would you have added at the end of your vows, THAT THUS THE GODS WOULD ASSENT TO YOUR PRAYERS, IF YOU HAD PERSISTED IN DESERVING OUR JUDGMENT?
So nothing is to you more prior than the love of the citizens, such that you wish first to be loved by us, then by the gods, and thus to be loved by them, if you are loved by us. And indeed the outcomes of earlier princes have taught that not even are any loved by the gods, except those whom men love. It was arduous to equal these your precations with lauds: yet we have equaled them.
whom we so loved as to confess these things? You know the necessity of servitude: when have you heard anything similar, and when have you said it? Fear indeed devises many things, but such as appear contrived by the unwilling; the disposition of anxiety is one thing, that of security another; the invention of the sorrowful is one thing, that of the rejoicing another; neither of the two would pretenses have expressed.
You yourself too have corroborated the credibility of our acclamations by the truth of your tears. We saw your eyes growing moist, your countenance bowed down with joy, and as much blood in your face as modesty in your mind. And by this we were the more inflamed, to beseech that you should never have any other cause of tears, and that you might never wipe your brow [abstergeres]. Let us ask this very [temple], these seats, as if about to answer us, whether they have ever seen a prince’s tears: but the Senate has often seen them.
Over and above these things we prayed that: SO MAY THE GODS LOVE YOU, IN THE MANNER THAT YOU [LOVE] US. Who would say this either about himself, or to a prince loving only moderately? For ourselves indeed this was the sum of our vows, that SO MAY THE GODS LOVE US, AS YOU [DO]. Is it true, what we cried out amid these things: O WE HAPPY!
What indeed is happier for us, for whom it is now no longer that thing to be desired, that the prince love us, but that the gods (should love us), in the same way as the prince? A city devoted to religions, and having always piously merited the indulgence of the gods, thinks that nothing can be adjoined to its felicity, unless the gods imitate Caesar.
Sed quid singula consector et colligo? Quasi vero aut oratione complecti, aut memoria consequi possim, quae vos, Patres Conscripti, ne qua interciperet oblivio, et in publica acta mittenda, et incidenda in aere censuistis. Ante, orationes principum tantum eiusmodi genere monumentorum mandari aeternitati solebant: acclamationes quidem nostrae parietibus curiae claudebantur.
But why do I pursue and gather the particulars? As though I could either encompass by oration, or overtake by memory, those things which you, Conscript Fathers, lest any oblivion intercept them, have decreed should be both sent into the public acts and engraved on bronze. Formerly, only the orations of princes were wont to be entrusted to eternity by monuments of this kind; our acclamations, indeed, were shut within the walls of the Curia.
For there were some in which neither the senate nor the princes could glory. But that these should both go out among the common people and be handed down to posterity was, both from utility and from public dignity: first, that the whole world be made a witness and conscious of our piety; then, that it be manifest that we dare to pass judgment about good and bad princes not only after them; lastly, that by experiment it be known that even before us there were men grateful, but wretched, to whom it had not previously been permitted to prove that we are grateful. But with what contention, with what nisus, with what clamors it was expostulated, that you should not suppress our affections, nor your merits!
and finally, that you might provide for the future by an example! Let princes too learn to discern true and false acclamations, and let them have as the boon of your office this, that now they will not be able to be deceived. The path to good fame is not to be engineered for them, yet neither is it to be deserted: flattery is not to be driven out, yet it is not to be brought back.
It is certain, both what they should do, and what they ought to hear, if they do it. What now should I, beyond those things which I have with the whole senate entreated, entreat on behalf of the senate, except that the joy which you then displayed in your eyes may adhere to your mind? Love that day, and yet surpass it: may you merit new things, may you hear new things: for the same things cannot be said, unless on account of the same deeds.
Iam quam antiquum, quam consulare, quod triduum totum senatus sub exemplo tui sedit, quum interea nihil praeter consulem ageres! Interrogavit quisque, quod placuit: dissentire, discedere, et copiam iudicii sui reipublicae facere, tutum fuit: consulti omnes, atque etiam dinumerati sumus: vicitque sententia non prima, sed melior. At quis antea loqui, quis hiscere audebat, praeter miseros illos, qui primi interrogabantur?
Now how ancient, how consular, that for three whole days the senate sat under your example, while in the meantime you were doing nothing except the consulship! Each man, when interrogated, expressed what pleased him: to dissent, to go apart, and to make available the liberty of his own judgment to the commonwealth, was safe: we were all consulted, and even counted: and the opinion prevailed not the first, but the better. But who before dared to speak, who to open his mouth, except those miserable wretches who were asked first?
The rest indeed, transfixed and thunderstruck, were enduring that very mute and sedentary necessity of assenting, with what pain of mind, with what shuddering of the whole body! One man alone was giving his opinion, which all would follow, and all would disapprove—first and foremost he himself who had given it. So much is it the case that nothing is more displeasing to everyone than those things which are done as though they pleased everyone.
Perhaps the emperor in the senate was tempered to deference toward him; but once he had gone out, he straightway withdrew back into the Princeps, and was wont to drive off, neglect, and contemn all consular offices. He, however, was so a consul, as if he were only a consul: he thought nothing beneath himself, except what was beneath a consul. And, to begin with, thus he went forth from home, that no apparatus of princely arrogance, no tumult of forerunners, detained him.
There was one delay on the threshold: to consult the birds, and to revere the monitions of the divinities. No one was driven off, no one was removed: such quiet for travelers, such modesty in the fasces, that very often another’s crowd would compel both the consul and the emperor to halt. His own retinue, indeed, was so modest, so temperate, that he seemed to proceed as some ancient and great consul under a good emperor.
Nam comitia consulum obibat ipse; tantum ex renuntiatione eorum voluptatis, quantum prius ex destinatione capiebat. Stabant candidati ante curulem principis, ut ipse ante consulis steterat: adigebanturque in verba, in quae paullo ante ipse iuraverat princeps; qui tantum putat esse in iureiurando, ut illud et ab aliis exigat. Reliqua pars diei tribunali dabatur.
He himself attended to the comitia of the consuls; he took as much pleasure from their proclamation as earlier from their designation. The candidates stood before the princeps’s curule seat, as he himself had stood before the consul’s; and they were compelled into the words in which a little before the princeps himself had sworn—he who thinks there is so much in an oath that he even exacts it from others. The remaining part of the day was given to the tribunal.
By him the right of no magistrate, the authority of none, was diminished; rather, it was even augmented; since indeed he remitted most matters to the praetors, and in such a way as to call them colleagues—not because it was popular and pleasing to the audience, but because thus he felt. He set so much dignity in the honor itself that he judged it to be no greater a thing that someone was called a colleague by the princeps than that he was praetor. Moreover, he was so assiduous on the tribunal that he seemed to be refreshed and repaired by labor.
Who of us takes upon himself the same cares, the same sweat? who either so devotes himself to, or is equal to, the so-coveted honors? And indeed it is fair that he himself, who makes consuls, should so far surpass the other consuls: for it would seem unworthy even to Fortune, if he who could give honors were unable to bear (to wield) them.
Quo iustius senatus, ut susciperes quartum consulatum, et rogavit et iussit. Imperii hoc verbum, non adulationis esse, obsequio tuo crede: quod non alia in re magis aut senatus exigere a te, aut tu praestare senatui debes. Ut enim ceterorum hominum, ita principum, illorum etiam, qui dii sibi videntur, aevum omne ei breve et fragile est.
Wherefore, the more justly, the Senate both requested and ordered that you undertake a fourth consulship. Believe, in your dutiful obedience, that this is a word of imperium, not of adulation: a thing in which, more than in any other matter, either the Senate ought to exact from you, or you ought to render to the Senate. For, as with other men, so with princes—even those who seem gods to themselves—the whole span of life is short and fragile.
Therefore it befits every most excellent man to strive and to contend, so that even after himself he may benefit the republic, namely by monuments of moderation and justice, which a consul can establish in the greatest number. This, to be sure, is your intention: to recall and to bring back liberty. What honor, then, ought you to love more, what name to employ more often, than that which liberty, once recovered, first discovered?
It is no less civic to be both princeps and consul alike than merely to be consul. Also take account of the modesty of your colleagues; colleagues, I say: for thus you yourself speak, and you wish us to speak. The recollection of their third consulship will be burdensome to their modesty until they see you as consul.
There will be, for the pietas of the senate with the modesty of the princeps, a happy and specious contest, whether it be vanquished or whether it prevail. For my part I anticipate a certain unknown joy, and one greater than the most recent. For who is so feeble in intellect as not to hope for a consul the better, by so much as he shall have been more often?
Another man, if he had not straightaway given himself over to sloth and pleasure, would nevertheless have refreshed himself from his labors by leisure and quiet: this one, released from consular cares, has resumed imperial affairs; so diligent in moderation, that as emperor he does not covet the office of consul, nor as consul that of emperor. We see how he meets the desires of the provinces, how he even answers the petitions of individual cities. No difficulty in hearing, no delay in replying: they approach at once, they are dismissed at once: and at length the emperor’s doors are not besieged by a throng of delegations shut out.
Advocates stand before you, anxious not about their own fortunes, but about your estimation; nor do they so much fear what you may think of their cause as what you may think of their morals. O truly of a prince, and even of a consul, to reconcile rival cities, and to restrain swelling peoples not so much by command as by reason; to intercede against the injustices of magistrates, and to render undone whatever ought not to have been done; finally, after the manner of the most rapid star, to visit all things, to hear all things, and, when invoked from anywhere, to be present at once, like a divinity, and to stand by! Such, I would believe, are the things which the parent of the world himself governs with a nod, if ever he has lowered his eyes to the earth and has deigned to number the fates of mortals among his divine works: in which part of cares now being free and released, he has leisure only for heaven, after he gave you, who would discharge in his stead toward the whole race of men.
Quodsi quando cum influentibus negotiis paria fecisti, instar refectionis existimas mutationem laboris. Quae enim remissio tibi, nisi lustrare saltus, excutere cubilibus feras, superare immensa montium iuga, et horrentibus scopulis gradum inferre, nullius manu, nullius vestigio adiutum; atque inter haec pia mente adire lucos, et occursare numinibus? Olim haec experientia iuventutis, haec voluptas erat; his artibus futuri duces imbuebantur: certare cum fugacibus feris cursu, cum audacibus robore, cum callidis astu: nec mediocre pacis decus habebatur submota campis irruptio ferarum, et obsidione quadam liberatus agrestium labor.
But if ever you have made yourself a match for the in-flowing business, you deem a change of labor to be in the likeness of a refection. For what relaxation is there for you, except to traverse the forest-glades, to shake the beasts from their lairs, to surmount the immense yokes of mountains, and to set your step upon bristling crags, aided by no one’s hand, by no one’s footprint; and amid these things to approach the groves with a pious mind, and to encounter the divinities? Once this was the experience of youth, this was the delight; by these arts future leaders were imbued: to contend with the fleet beasts by course, with the bold by strength, with the crafty by craft; nor was it held a mediocre ornament of peace that the irruption of wild beasts was removed from the fields, and the labor of the countryfolk was freed from a kind of siege.
They too, those princes who were not able to undertake it, were usurping that glory: they were usurping it by gathering, with feigned sagacity, beasts tamed and broken by enclosures, and then released, indeed, for their own sport. To this, equal is the sweat of seizing and seeking, and the highest— and likewise most gratifying—labor is to find. Indeed, if ever it has pleased to carry forth the same robustness of body onto the seas, he does not pursue the floating sails either with his eyes or with his hands: but now he sits at the rudders, now he vies with each strongest of his companions to break the billows, to domesticate the resisting winds, and with oars to cross the opposing straits.
Quantum dissimilis illi, qui non Albani lacus otium, Baianique torporem et silentium ferre, non pulsum saltem fragoremque remorum perpeti poterat, quin ad singulos ictus turpi formidine horresceret. Itaque procul ab omni sono inconcussus ipse et immotus, religato revinctoque navigio, non secus ac piaculum aliquod, trahebatur. Foeda facies, quum Populi Romani Imperator alienum cursum, alienumque rectorem, velut capta nave, sequeretur.
How different from that man, who could not bear the leisure of the Alban lake, and the torpor and silence of Baiae, could not even endure the beat and crash of oars at least, without shuddering at each stroke with shameful fear. And so, far from every sound, unshaken and motionless himself, with the boat tied and bound, not otherwise than as some expiatory victim, he was dragged along. A foul spectacle, when the Emperor of the Roman People would follow another’s course and another’s helmsman, as if in a captured ship.
Nor did even the rivers and streams lack that deformity. The Danube and the Rhine rejoiced to carry that only remnant of our honor, yet with no less shame to the empire, because these should behold Roman eagles, Roman standards, and, finally, a Roman bank, as much as that they should behold those of the enemy—of enemies whose custom it is to traverse those same rivers, now rigid with gelid frost or overflowing their fields, now liquid and bearing down, by vessels, and to surmount them by swimming. Nor indeed would I by itself greatly commend the hardness of body and brawn; but if a mind, stronger than these in the whole body, commands them—one which neither the indulgence of fortune softens, nor the principal resources of the court twist aside to sluggishness and luxury—then I, whether he be exercised by mountains or by the sea, will admire both a body glad in work and limbs that grow by labors.
For I see, from ancient times already, husbands of goddesses and the offspring of gods have become illustrious not so much by the dignity of their nuptials as by these arts. At the same time I consider, since those are the play and avocation of this man, what and how great are those serious and intent pleasures, and from which pleasures he withdraws himself into such leisure. For there are pleasures by which one best forms a belief concerning each person’s gravity, sanctity, and temperance.
Habet hoc primum magna fortuna, quod nihil tectum, nihil occultum esse patitur: principum vero non modo domus, sed cubicula ipsa intimosque secessus recludit, omniaque arcana noscenda famae proponit atque explicat. Sed tibi, Caesar, nihil accommodatius fuerit ad gloriam, quam penitus inspici. Sunt quidem praeclara, quae in publicum profers; sed non minora ea, quae limine tenes.
This is the first property of great fortune: that it allows nothing to be covered, nothing to be occult. Indeed, it throws open not only the houses of princes, but the very bedchambers and their innermost retreats, and it sets all arcana forth to Fame to be known and unfolds them. But for you, Caesar, nothing would be more accommodative to glory than to be inspected to the very depths. Splendid, to be sure, are the things you proffer into the public; but no less are those which you keep at the threshold.
It is magnificent that you restrain and recall yourself from every contagion of vices, but more magnificent that you do so for your own. For the more arduous it is to make others excel than oneself, by so much the more laudable it is that, since you yourself are best, you have made all around you similar to yourself. To many illustrious men it has been a disgrace that a wife was either too inconsiderately taken or too patiently retained: thus domestic infamy was undoing those who were renowned abroad: and it brought it about that they were not held the greatest citizens, for this reason, that as husbands they were lesser.
Soror autem tua, ut se sororem esse meminit! ut in illa tua simplicitas, tua veritas, tuus candor agnoscitur! ut, si quis eam uxori tuae conferat, dubitare cogatur, utrum sit efficacius ad recte vivendum, bene institui, aut feliciter nasci.
But your sister—how she remembers that she is a sister! how in her your simplicity, your truth, your candor are recognized! how, if anyone should compare her with your wife, he would be compelled to doubt which is more efficacious for living rightly: to be well-instructed, or to be felicitously born.
Nothing is so prone to quarrels as emulation, in women especially: and this moreover is born chiefly from conjunction, or else from equality; it blazes up into envy, whose end is hatred. For which reason it is to be accounted the more admirable, that with two women in one house, and with equal fortune, there is no contest, no contention. They look up to each other in turn, in turn they yield: and since both love you most effusively, they think it of no concern to themselves which of the two you love more.
For they will never be in danger of being private persons, who have not ceased to be such. The senate had offered them the cognomen Augustae, which they, vying with one another, begged off, so long as you refused the appellation Father of the Fatherland: either because they judged there to be more in this—that they be called your wife and your sister—than if they were called Augustae. But whatever reason persuaded them to such modesty, by so much the more are they worthy that in our minds they both are and are held Augustae, because they are not called so.
Iam etiam et in privatorum animis exoleverat priscum mortalium bonum, amicitia, cuius in locum migraverant assentationes, blanditiae, et peior odio amoris simulatio. Etenim in principum domo nomen tantum amicitiae, inane scilicet irrisumque, manebat. Nam quae poterat esse inter eos amicitia, quorum sibi alii domini, alii servi videbantur?
Now even in the minds of private persons the ancient good of mortals—friendship—had died out, in whose place had migrated assentation, blandishments, and the simulation of love worse than hatred. Indeed, in the house of princes there remained only the name of friendship, empty, to wit, and mocked. For what friendship could there be between those among whom some seemed to themselves masters, others slaves?
You have brought this, driven out and wandering, back again: you have friends, because you yourself are a friend. For love is not commanded, as other things are, to those subject; nor is there any affection so upright and free and impatient of domination, nor one that more exacts reciprocation. A prince can perhaps be unjust; yet he can be an object of hatred to some, even if he himself does not hate: to be loved, unless he himself loves, he cannot. Therefore you love, since you are loved, and in this—which on both sides is most honorable—lies your whole glory, that, having been made the superior, you descend into all the offices of familiarity, and from emperor you submit yourself into a friend; nay, then you are most of all emperor, when you act the friend out of the emperor.
For indeed, since the fortune of princes stands in need of very many friendships, the principal work of a prince is to procure friends. Let this school be pleasing to you always, and, as you hold your other virtues, so hold this most constantly: nor let it ever be persuaded that anything is lowly for a prince, except to hate. It is most pleasant in human affairs to be loved, but to love is no less so: and you enjoy each of these in such a way that, although you yourself love most ardently, nevertheless you are loved more ardently still: first, because it is easier to love one than many; next, because there is present to you so great a faculty of obligating your friends, that no one, unless ungrateful, can fail to love you the more.
Operae pretium est referre, quod tormentum tibi iniunxeris, ne quid amico negares. Dimisisti optimum virum tibique carissimum, invitus et tristis, et quasi retinere non posses. Quantum amares eum, desiderio expertus es, distractus separatusque, dum cedis et vinceris.
It is worth the effort to recount what torment you imposed upon yourself, so that you might deny nothing to a friend. You dismissed an excellent man and one most dear to you, unwilling and sad, and as though you could not hold him back. How greatly you loved him you learned by longing, torn and separated, while you yield and are conquered.
Thus—a thing unheard-of by report—when the princeps and the princeps’s friend were wishing different things, that rather was done which the friend wished. O deed to be committed to memory and to letters! to choose the Praetorian Prefect not from the self-thrusting, but from the self-withdrawing; and to restore that same man to leisure, which he loves pertinaciously; and, though you yourself are strained with the cares of the empire, to begrudge to no one the glory of quiet.
We understand, Caesar, how much we owe you for that laborious and much-tried station, since leisure from you, as the best of things, is both sought and granted. What confusion of yours I hear there was, when you escorted him as he was departing! For, having accompanied him, you did not restrain yourself from bestowing upon him, as he was going out on the shore, an embrace and a kiss.
Caesar stood upon that watchtower of friendship, and prayed to the seas, and for a swift return (if, however, he himself had wished it), nor could he endure not to follow the one departing again and again with vows and with tears. For as to liberality I am silent. By what gifts, indeed, can this care of the princeps, this patience, be equaled, whereby you earned that he seemed to himself too brave, and almost hard?
Nor do I doubt that he debated with himself whether to turn the helm back; and he would have done it, except that it is almost happier and more delightful than the very companionship of the prince to long for a prince who is longing in return. And he indeed enjoys, as the greatest fruit of what he undertook, so the greater glory of what he laid down; but you, by that kindliness of yours, have achieved this, that you do not seem to detain anyone unwilling.
Civile hoc erat, et parenti publico convenientissimum, nihil cogere, semperque meminisse, nullam tantam potestatem cuiquam dari posse, ut non sit gratior potestate libertas. Dignus es, Caesar, qui officia mandes deponere optantibus; qui petentibus vacationem invitus quidem, sed tamen tribuas; qui ab amicis orantibus requiem non te relinqui putes; qui semper invenias, et quos ex otio revoces, et quos otio reddas. Vos quoque, quos parens noster familiariter inspicere dignatur, fovete iudicium eius, quod de vobis habet: hic vester labor est.
This was civil, and most fitting for the public parent, to force nothing, and always to remember that so great a power cannot be given to anyone that freedom is not more pleasing than power. You are worthy, Caesar, to allow those who wish it to lay down their offices; to those asking for exemption you grant it—reluctantly indeed, yet still you grant it; when friends beg for respite, you do not think that you are being abandoned; you always find both those whom you call back from leisure, and those whom you restore to leisure. You also, whom our parent deigns to inspect in a familiar way, cherish the judgment which he has about you: this is your labor.
For the princeps, since he has proved in one that he knows how to love, is void of blame if he loves others less. As for himself, who would love him only moderately, when he does not give the laws of loving but accepts them? This one, present; that one prefers to be loved absent: let each be loved as he prefers; let no one by presence come into tedium, let no one by absence come into oblivion.
Plerique principes, quum essent civium domini, libertorum erant servi: horum consiliis, horum nutu regebantur: per hos audiebant, per hos loquebantur: per hos praeturae etiam, et sacerdotia et consulatus, immo et ab his, petebantur. Tu libertis tuis summum quidem honorem, sed tamquam libertis, habes; abundeque sufficere his credis, si probi et frugi existimentur. Scis enim, praecipuum esse indicium non magni principis magnos libertos.
Most princes, though they were masters of the citizens, were slaves of their freedmen: by these men’s counsels, at these men’s nod they were governed: through them they listened, through them they spoke: through them even praetorships, priesthoods, and consulships were sought, nay, even from them. You hold for your freedmen indeed the highest honor, but as for freedmen; and you believe it suffices abundantly for them, if they are deemed upright and frugal. For you know that the chief indication of a not-great prince is great freedmen.
And first, you have no one in use, unless he is loved either by you, or by your father, or by any one of the best [of the princes]; and forthwith you yourself then shape these very men daily in such a way that they measure themselves not by your fortune, but by their own: and therefore they are all the more worthy, to whom every honor should be rendered by us, because it is not necessary. Was it for just causes that the Senate and People of Rome added to you the cognomen OPTIMI? Ready indeed and set in the open, yet new nevertheless.
in which there is more envy than beauty. The best princeps adopted you into his own, the Senate into the name OPTIMI. This is to you as much proper as paternal; nor does he designate you more definitely and distinctly who calls you TRAIANUM than he who calls you OPTIMUM: as once the Pisones were pointed out by frugality, the Laelii by wisdom, the Metelli by piety.
For it is a lesser thing to be an emperor and a Caesar and an Augustus, than to be better than all emperors and Caesars and Augusti. And so that father of men and gods is worshipped first under the name OPTIMUS, then under the name MAXIMUS. Hence the more illustrious is your praise, since it is agreed that you are no less best than greatest.
You have attained a name which cannot pass to another, except so as to appear, in a good prince, as someone else’s, and in a bad, as false: which, although all may afterward usurp it, will nevertheless always be acknowledged as yours. For indeed, just as by the name AUGUSTUS we are admonished of him to whom it was first dedicated, so this appellation OPTIMUS will never recur to the memory of men without you; and as often as our posterity shall be compelled to call someone OPTIMUM, so often will they remember who deserved to be so called.
Quanto nunc, dive Nerva, gaudio frueris, quum vides, et esse OPTIMUM et dici, quem tamquam optimum elegisti! quam laetum tibi, quod comparatus filio tuo vinceris! Neque enim alio magis approbatur animi tui magnitudo, quam quod optimus ipse non timuisti eligere meliorem.
Quanto now, divine Nerva, joy you enjoy, when you see both that he whom you chose as best is the BEST and is called so! how joyful for you, that, when compared with your son, you are outdone! For in no other way is the greatness of your spirit more approved than in this: that, though yourself best, you did not fear to choose one better.
But you too, father of Trajan, (for you also, if not the stars themselves, nevertheless hold a seat nearest to the stars) how much delight you receive, when you behold that tribune, that soldier of yours, so great an emperor, so great a princeps! and you most amicably contend with him who adopted him, whether it was more beautiful to have begotten such a one, or to have chosen him! Well done, both of you, with immense merit toward the republic, to which you have contributed this so great a good!
Scio, Patres Conscripti, cum ceteros cives, tum praecipue consules, oportere sic affici, ut se publice magis, quam privatim, obligatos putent. Ut enim malos principes rectius pulchriusque est ex communibus iniuriis odisse, quam propriis: ita boni speciosius amantur ob ea, quae generi humano, quam quae hominibus praestant. Quia tamen in consuetudinem venit, ut consules, publica gratiarum actione perlata, suo quoque nomine, quantum debeant principi, profiteantur: concedite, me non pro me magis munere isto, quam pro collega meo, Cornuto Tertullo, clarissimo viro, fungi.
I know, Conscript Fathers, that both the other citizens, and most especially the consuls, ought to be so affected as to think themselves bound more publicly than privately. For just as it is more correct and more comely to hate bad princes on account of common injuries rather than personal ones, so the good are more splendidly loved for those things which they bestow upon the human race rather than upon individuals. Because, however, it has come into custom that the consuls, once the public thanksgiving has been delivered, also in their own name profess how much they owe to the prince: grant that I discharge this office not so much on my own behalf as on behalf of my colleague, Cornutus Tertullus, a most illustrious man.
Why indeed should I not also render thanks on his behalf, for whom I owe no less? especially since the most indulgent emperor, in our concord, has bestowed upon us both those things which, if he had conferred them upon only one, would nevertheless have equally obligated us both. That despoiler and executioner of every best man had blasted each of us, with the slaughters of friends and by a thunderbolt hurled at one nearest.
For we used to boast of the same friends, we used to mourn the same when they were lost; and just as now hope and joy, so then pain and fear were common to us. The deified Nerva had won this honor from our perils, that he wished to promote us, even if less as good men, yet nevertheless: because this too would be a sign of a changed age, that those should flourish whose principal vow before had been to slip out of the princeps’ memory.
Nondum biennium compleramus in officio laboriosissimo et maximo, quum tu nobis, optime principum, fortissime imperatorum, consulatum obtulisti, ut ad summum honorem gloria celeritatis accederet. Tantum inter te et illos principes interest, qui beneficiis suis commendationem ex difficultate captabant, gratioresque accipientibus honores arbitrabantur, si prius illos desperatio, et taedium, et similis repulsae mora, in notam quandam pudoremque vertissent. Obstat verecundia, quo minus percenseamus, quo utrumque nostrum testimonio ornaris: ut amore recti, amore reipublicae, priscis illis consulibus aequaveris.
Not yet had we completed a biennium in the most laborious and greatest office, when you, best of princes, bravest of emperors, offered us the consulship, so that to the highest honor there might be added the glory of swiftness. So great is the difference between you and those princes who sought commendation for their benefactions from their difficulty, and thought honors more pleasing to the recipients if first despair and weariness and a delay like a repulse had turned them into a certain stigma and shame. Modesty stands in the way, preventing us from reckoning up with what testimonial you have honored each of us: that, from love of the right and love of the republic, you have equaled those ancient consuls.
Whether deservedly or not, let us dare to decide to neither side; because it is not lawful to derogate from your affirmation, and it is onerous to confess that the things which you have said about us—especially so magnificent—are true. You, however, are worthy to make those consuls about whom you can proclaim such things. Grant pardon, that among these your benefactions the most welcome to us is this: that you have willed us again to be colleagues.
Thus mutual charity, thus a congruent tenor of life, thus one and the same reason of purpose demanded: whose force is such that the likeness of morals diminishes the glory of our concord, and it is just as much a marvel if one of us dissent from his colleague as if he dissent from himself. Therefore it is not something temporary and sudden, that each rejoices in his colleague’s consulship, as if in his own again; except that, however, those who become consuls again are bound twice indeed, but at different times: we receive two consulships at once, we at once administer them, and each is consul in the other, but we are a second time and equally.
Illud vero quam insigne, quod nobis praefectis aerario consulatum ante, quam successorem dedisti! Aucta est dignitas dignitate: neque continuatus tantum, sed geminatus est honor, finemque potestatis alterius, tamquam parum esset excipere, praevenit. Tanta tibi integritatis nostrae fiducia fuit, ut non dubitares, te salva diligentiae tuae ratione esse facturum, si nos post maximum officium privatos esse non sineres.
How distinguished, indeed, that to us, prefects of the treasury, you granted the consulship before you appointed a successor! Dignity has been augmented by dignity: the honor was not only continued but doubled, and it forestalled the end of the other authority, as though it were too little merely to receive it in succession. So great was your confidence in our integrity that you did not hesitate, judging that you would act with your diligence unimpaired, if you did not allow us, after the highest office, to be private citizens.
What of this, that you assigned our consulship to the same year? Therefore it will not be on any other page than the one that will receive you as consul that we shall be recorded, and our names too will be added to the Fasti, which will be headed by yourself. You deigned to preside at our comitia, you to intone for us that most sacred carmen; by your judgment we were made consuls, by your voice we were proclaimed: so that you might be the same man—suffragator of our honors in the Curia, declarer in the Campus.
For that you have assigned that very month which your birthday adorns—how beautiful for us! to whom it will befall to celebrate that day by an edict and by a spectacle, a day glad with triple joy: which removed the worst emperor, gave the best, and begot one better than the best. Under your eyes a chariot more august than usual will receive us: we shall be borne along, eager, amid propitious omens and vows vying with one another, which will be conferred upon you in person, and uncertain from which side the greater clamor will fall upon our ears.
Super omnia tamen praedicandum videtur, quod pateris consules esse, quos fecisti: quippe nullum periculum, nullus ex principe metus consulares animos debilitat et frangit: nihil invitis audiendum, nihil coactis decernendum erit. Manet manebitque honori veneratio sua, nec securitatem auctoritate perdemus. Ac si quid forte ex consulatus fastigio fuerit diminutum, nostra haec erit culpa, non seculi.
Above all, however, it seems to be proclaimed that you allow those whom you have made to be consuls to be consuls: indeed no danger, no fear from the prince weakens and breaks consular spirits: nothing must be heard by the unwilling, nothing must be decreed by the compelled. The veneration proper to the honor remains and will remain, nor shall we lose security to authority. And if perchance anything from the pinnacle of the consulship has been diminished, this will be our fault, not that of the age.
For indeed, so far as concerns the prince, it is permitted that consuls act such as they were before princes. Can we render to you any gratitude equal in return for your benefits? except only this: that we always remember that we have been consuls, and your consuls; that we feel thus, that we opine thus, those things which are worthy of consular rank; that we so conduct ourselves in the republic, as to believe there to be a republic.
In fine orationis praesides custodesque imperii deos, ego consul pro rebus humanis, ac te praecipue, Capitolone Iupiter, precor, ut beneficiis tuis faveas, tantisque addas muneribus perpetuitatem. Audisti, quae malo principi precabamur; exaudi, quae pro dissimillimo optamus. Non te distringimus votis.
In the end of the oration I, the consul, for human affairs, pray to the presiding and guardian gods of the empire, and you above all, Capitoline Jupiter, that you favor with your benefits, and to such great gifts add perpetuity. You have heard what we were praying for in the case of a bad prince; hear what we desire for one most dissimilar. We do not constrain you with vows.
For we do not pray for peace, not for concord, not for security, not for wealth, not for honors: a simple wish, and one that encompasses all those things, is THE SAFETY OF THE PRINCEPS. Nor indeed do we impose anything new upon you. For you already then took him into your tutelage, when you snatched him from the jaws of a most avid robber.
For not without your assistance, when the loftiest things were being shaken, did this man, who is loftier than all, stand unshaken. He was passed over by the worst emperor, who could not be passed over by the best. You sent clear signs of your judgment, when, as he was setting out to the army, you yielded to him in your name, in your honor.
You, having spoken by the emperor’s voice what you felt, chose for him a son, for us a parent, for yourself a Pontifex Maximus. With the greater confidence, therefore, with those same vows which he himself orders to be proclaimed on his behalf, I beg and adjure: if he governs the commonwealth well, if according to the utility of all, first, that you preserve him for our grandchildren and great‑grandchildren; then, that you sometime grant to him a successor, whom he will have begotten, whom he will have formed, and whom he will have made like to the adopted one; or, if this is denied by fate, that you be in counsel with him as he chooses, and point out someone whom it is fitting to be adopted on the Capitol.
Vobis, Patres Conscripti, quantum debeam, publicis etiam monimentis continetur. Vos mihi in tribunatu quietis, in praetura modestiae; vos in istis officiis etiam, quae e studiis nostris circa tuendos socios iniunxeratis, cuncti constantiae antiquissimum testimonium perhibuistis. Vos proxime destinationem consulatus mei his acclamationibus approbavistis, ut intelligam, etiam atque etiam enitendum mihi, ut hunc consensum vestrum complectar, et teneam, et in dies augeam.
To you, Conscript Fathers, how much I owe is contained even in the public monuments. You bore witness for me—in the tribunate, to quietude; in the praetorship, to modesty; you, in those duties also which out of our studies concerning the protection of allies you had enjoined, all bore a most time-honored testimony to constancy. Most recently you approved the designation of my consulship with these acclamations, so that I understand I must strive again and again, that I may embrace this your consensus, and hold it, and increase it day by day.
For indeed I remember that it is then most truly judged whether someone has merited an honor or not, when he has obtained it. Only favor this purpose, and believe this: that if, carried forward on a certain course by that most insidious prince, before he professed a hatred of the good—after he had professed it—I halted; when I saw what compendia to honors lay open, I preferred the longer road; if in evil times I am counted among the sorrowful and the trembling, in good times among the secure and rejoicing; if finally I love the best prince in the measure in which I was hated by the worst. I will thus always serve your reverence, not as thinking myself a consul, and soon a consular, but as thinking myself a candidate for the consulship.