Philippicae

Cicero, Marcus Tullius

Cicero. The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, Vol. 4. Yonge, Charles Duke, translator. London: Bell, 1856.

Now what peace, O Marcus Lepidus, can exist with this man? when it does not seem that there is even any punishment which the Roman people can think adequate to his crimes?

But if any one has hitherto been able to doubt the fact, that there can be nothing whatever in common between this order and the Roman people and that most detestable beast, let him at least cease to entertain such a doubt, when he becomes acquainted with this letter which I have just received, it having been sent to me by Hirtius the consul. While I read it, and while I briefly discuss each paragraph, I beg, O conscript fathers, that you will listen to me most attentively, as you have hitherto done.

“Antonius to Hirtius and Caesar.”

He does not call himself imperator, nor Hirtius consul, nor Caesar propraetor. This is cunningly done enough. He preferred laying aside a title to which he had no right himself, to giving them their proper style.

“When I heard of the death of Caius Trebonius, I was not more rejoiced than grieved.”

Take notice why he says he rejoiced, why he says that he was grieved; and then you will be more easily able to decide the question of peace.

“It was a matter of proper rejoicing that a wicked man had paid the penalty due to the bones and ashes of a most illustrious man, and that the divine power of the gods had shown itself before the end of the current year, by showing the chastisement of that parricide already inflicted in some cases, and impending in others.”

O you Spartacus! for what name is more fit for you? you whose abominable wickedness is such as to make even Catiline seem tolerable. Have you dared to write that it is a matter of rejoicing that Trebonius has suffered punishment? that Trebonius was wicked? What was his crime, except that on the ides of March he withdrew you from the destruction which you had deserved? Come; you rejoice at this; let us see what it is that excites your indignation.

“That Dolabella should at this time have been pronounced a public enemy because he has slain an assassin; and that the son of a buffoon should appear dearer to the Roman people than Caius Caesar, the father of his country, are circumstances to be lamented.”

Why should you be sad because Dolabella has been pronounced a public enemy? Why? Are you not aware that you yourself—by the fact of an enlistment having taken place all over Italy, and of the consuls being sent forth to war, and of Caesar having received great honors, and of the garb of war having been assumed—have also been pronounced an enemy? And what reason is there, O you wicked man, for lamenting that Dolabella has been declared an enemy by the senate? a body which you indeed think of no consequence at all; but you make it your main object in waging war utterly to destroy the senate, and to make all the rest of those who are either virtuous or wealthy follow the fate of the highest order of all. But he calls him the son of a buffoon. As if that noble Roman knight the father of Trebonius were unknown to us. And does he venture to look down on any one because of the meanness of his birth, when he has himself children by Fadia?

“But it is the bitterest thing of all that you, O Aulus. Hirtius, who have been distinguished by Caesar's kindness, and who have been left by him in a condition which you yourself marvel at. ---

I can not indeed deny that Aulus Hirtius was distinguished by Caesar, but such distinctions are only of value when conferred on virtue and industry. But you, who can not deny that you also were distinguished by Caesar, what would you have been if he had not showered so many kindnesses on you? Where would your own good qualities have borne you? Where would your birth have conducted you? You would have spent the whole period of your manhood in brothels, and cook-shops and in gambling and drinking, as you used to do when you were always burying your brains and your beard in the laps of actresses.

“And you too, O boy—”

He calls him a boy whom he has not only experienced and shall again experience to be a man, but one of the bravest of men. It is indeed the name appropriate to his age; but he is the last man in the world who ought to use it, when it is his own madness that has opened to this boy the path to glory.

“You who owe every thing to his name—”

He does indeed owe every thing, and nobly is he paying it. For if he was the father of his country, as you call him (I will see hereafter what my opinion of that matter is, why is not this youth still more truly our father, to whom it certainly is owing that we are now enjoying life, saved out of your most guilty hands?

“Are taking pains to have Dolabella legally condemned.”

A base action, truly! by which the authority of this most honorable order is defended against the insanity of a most in' human gladiator.

“And to effect the release of this poisoner from blockade.” Do you dare to call that man a poisoner who has found a remedy against your own poisoning tricks? and whom you are besieging in such a manner, O you new Hannibal (or if there was ever any abler general than he), as to blockade yourself, and to be unable to extricate yourself from your present position, should you be ever so desirous to do so? Suppose you retreat; they will all pursue you from all sides. Suppose you stay where you are; you will be caught. You are very right, certainly, to call him a poisoner, by whom you see that your present disastrous condition has been brought about.

“In order that Cassius and Brutus may become as powerful as possible.”

Would you suppose that he is speaking of Censorinus, or of Ventidius, or of the Antonii themselves? But why should they be unwilling that those men should become powerful, who are not only most excellent and nobly born men, but who are also united with them in the defense of the republic?

“In fact, you look upon the existing circumstances as you did on the former ones.”

What can he mean?

“You used to call the camp of Pompeius the senate.”