Book 3
Imperial Cassius Dio GreekContents. The following is contained in the thirty-eighth book of Dio's Roman History: 1. How Caesar and Bibulus fell into discord. 2. How Cicero went into exile. 3. How Philiscus consoled Cicero in his exile. 4. How Caesar made war on the Helvetii and on Ariovistus. The span of time is two years, in which the magistrates here numbered held office: Gaius Julius Caesar, son of Gaius, and Marcus Calpurnius Bibulus, son of Gaius, consuls; Lucius Calpurnius Piso, son of Lucius, and Aulus Gabinius, son of Aulus, consuls.
1.1. In the following year Caesar wished to court the whole multitude, that he might attach them still more to himself. But wishing also to seem to do what pleased the men of power, that he might not have them as enemies, he often said to them that he would write nothing
1.2. which should not be of advantage to them as well. And indeed he framed a certain proposal concerning the land which he distributed to the whole crowd in such a way that not even a small part of it could be found fault with; and yet he made a pretence that he would not even introduce this, unless it were agreeable to them. So far as the law was concerned, then, no one could bring any charge against him; for the multitude of the
1.3. citizens, which was excessive — the very thing from which they were most given to faction — was being turned to labour and to husbandry, and most of Italy, which had become desolate, was being resettled, so that not only those who had been worn out in the campaigns, but all the rest as well, had a sufficient livelihood, the city spending nothing from its own resources and the men of power suffering no loss, but rather gaining both honour and
1.4. office for many. For he distributed all the common land except the Campanian (this he advised should be kept apart in the public domain on account of its excellence), and the rest he ordered to be purchased, not from any unwilling owner, nor again at whatever price the land-commissioners might wish, but first from willing sellers, and then at the price
1.5. at which it had been valued in the registers. For he said that there was much money in their treasury, both from the booty Pompey had taken and from the tributes and the customs newly established, and that it ought, inasmuch as it had been won by the dangers of the citizens, to be spent upon those very
1.6. citizens. And moreover he appointed the land-commissioners neither few, so as to resemble an oligarchy, nor from among men subject to audit, so that anyone should be displeased, but first, that many might share in the honour, twenty, and then the
1.7. most suitable men — save himself. For this he stipulated very strictly beforehand, that he might not be thought to be proposing anything for his own sake; for he was content, as he said, with the discovery and the proposal of the measure, while he openly gratified Pompey and Crassus and the rest.
2.1. So far as concerned what was written, then, he was free from blame, so that no one dared even to open his mouth against him; for he read it out beforehand in the senate, and calling upon each one of them by name, asked whether anyone had any fault to find, promising to alter or even wholly to erase, if anything
2.2. should not please someone. But on the whole all the men of power who were outside the conspiracy were greatly displeased. And this very thing distressed them most, that he had so drawn up the measure that none could lay any charge against it, and yet it weighed heavily upon them all;
2.3. for they suspected him — and rightly, as in fact came to pass — of intending through these things to make the multitude depend upon him, and to gain a name and strength over all mankind. And on this account, even if none of them opposed him, yet they by no means joined in praising him. To the rest, then, this sufficed, and they kept ever announcing that they would deliberate beforehand for him, but did nothing, and there were merely
3.1. idle delays and postponements. But Marcus Cato (who was otherwise reasonable and pleased with no innovation, though he had no great force either of nature or of training) brought no charge himself either against what was written, but in general demanded that they should keep to the present settlement and do nothing
3.2. outside it. And on this Caesar was about to drag Cato out of the very senate-house and cast him into prison; but when Cato most readily gave himself up to be led away, and not a few of the rest followed him, and one of them, Marcus Petreius, when rebuked by Caesar because he was leaving while the senate had not yet been dismissed, said, "I would rather be in prison with Cato than
3.3. here with you," Caesar was shamed, and let Cato go and dismissed the senate, only adding this much, that "I made you both judges and masters of the law, in order that, if anything did not please you, it might not even be brought before the people; but since you are unwilling to deliberate beforehand, the people themselves shall decide."
4.1. And from this he no longer communicated anything else to the senate during that office, but brought directly before the people
4.2. all that he wished. Yet, wishing even so to get some of the foremost men in the assembly as supporters (for he hoped that they had changed their minds and that the multitude too would somehow be afraid), he began with his colleague, and asked him
4.3. whether he found fault with the law. And when Bibulus answered nothing save that he would not endure any innovation during his office, Caesar turned to entreaty of him and persuaded the crowd to join in begging him, saying, "You shall have the law, if this man is willing." Bibulus, then, with a great cry, said: "You shall not have this law this year, not even if you all wish it."
4.4. And having said this he departed; but Caesar no longer questioned any of the others who were in office, fearing lest some one of them too should oppose him, but bringing forward Pompey and Crassus, though they were private citizens, he bade them declare their opinion
4.5. concerning what was written — not that he was ignorant of their mind (for they did everything in common), but in order both to confer honour upon them, in that he used them as advisers concerning the law although they held no office, and to overawe the rest by having as men of like mind the men confessedly first in the city at that time and most powerful of all,
4.6. and to gratify the multitude by this very thing, giving proof that they aimed at nothing strange or unjust, but at things of which those men too became both approvers and praisers.
5.1. Pompey, then, very gladly said: "It is not I alone, Quirites, who approve what is written, but the whole rest of the senate as well, inasmuch as it voted that land be given not only to those who once served with me but also to those who served with Metellus.
5.2. At that time, then (for the treasury was not well supplied), the granting of it was reasonably deferred; but at the present, since it has been made very rich by me, it is fitting that both the promise be made good to those men and the fruit of the common labours be rendered to the rest."
5.3. Having said this, he went through each clause of what was written and praised it all, so that the crowd was strongly pleased. Caesar, then, seeing this, asked him whether he would aid him zealously against those who acted contrary to them, and urged the multitude to beg this of him as well.
5.4. And when this had been done, Pompey, exalted because both the consul and the crowd had need of his help, although he held no command, spoke at length, exalting and magnifying himself, and at last said that "if anyone dares to take up a sword,
5.5. I too will take up my shield." These words, thus spoken by Pompey, Crassus also praised. So that, even if to some of the rest it was not pleasing, yet . . . men otherwise reckoned good and disposed hostilely toward Caesar, as it seemed to them at least (for their reconciliation was not yet manifest), assented to what he had written and became zealous for the ratification of the law.
6.1. Bibulus, however, would not give way, but, taking three tribunes as his fellow-combatants, hindered the legislation, and at last, when no other pretext for delay was left him, proclaimed a sacred recess for all the remaining days of the year alike, on which the people could not even come together in assembly according to the
6.2. laws. But when Caesar, taking little heed of him, named a certain fixed day on which to pass the law, and the multitude occupied the Forum by night beforehand, Bibulus came up with those he had got ready, and forced his way through to the temple of the Dioscuri, from which Caesar was haranguing — the people partly yielding to him out of
6.3. respect, partly thinking that he would not even oppose them; but when he had got up and attempted to speak against the law, he himself was thrust down the steps and his fasces were broken, and others, and the tribunes, received blows and wounds.
6.4. And so the law was ratified, while Bibulus that day was glad to escape with his life. On the next day he attempted in the senate to annul it, but accomplished nothing; for all, enslaved to the zeal of the multitude,
6.5. kept quiet. So he withdrew home, and no longer came forth at all into public until the last day of the year, but remaining in his house ever, as often as Caesar made any innovation, sent word through his attendants that there was a sacred recess and that nothing could lawfully, according to the laws,
6.6. be done on it. A certain Publius Vatinius, a tribune, attempted on this account to throw him into prison, but, his colleagues opposing it, did not do so. And so Bibulus too withdrew from public affairs, and the tribunes who took part with him no longer did any public business.
7.1. Metellus Celer, then, and Cato, and a certain Marcus Favonius on Cato's account, who was exceedingly his emulator, for a time neither swore concerning the law (for this practice, having begun at some time, as I said, was observed also in the case of the other extraordinary measures) and asserted, especially Metellus, who referred to the Numidicus, that he would never
7.2. join in approving it; yet when . . . the day on which they were to incur the appointed penalties, they swore — whether through that human weakness by which many promise something or threaten more readily than they proceed to action, or because they were going to be fined in vain, having profited the commonwealth in nothing by their
7.3. stubbornness. So the law was ratified, and besides, the land of the Campanians was given to those who had three or more children. And on this account Capua was then for the first time reckoned a colony of the Romans.
7.4. By these means, then, Caesar attached the multitude to himself, and the knights by remitting to them a third of the taxes which they had farmed; for all the tax-farming was done through them, and often, having begged the senate to obtain some relief, they had not found it, others and Cato in
7.5. particular opposing them. So when he had won over this order too, none opposing him, he first confirmed all that had been done by Pompey, neither Lucullus nor anyone else resisting, and then enacted many other laws as well,
7.6. none opposing. For not even Cato said anything against them, although in his praetorship, which he held not long afterward, he nowhere made mention of the name of these laws, as being called Julian; for in assigning the courts according to them, he most ridiculously concealed their name. These laws, then, since they are very many and contribute nothing to this history,
8.1. I shall pass over; but Quintus Fufius Calenus, finding that the votes, at least in the contentions, were cast all mingled together (since each order drew the better elements to itself and thrust the more disreputable upon others), enacted that the praetors should take the votes of each order separately, in order that, if not in each man individually, by reason of their voting secretly, yet at least the disposition of each order might become manifest.
8.2. Now in other matters Caesar himself proposed and advised and ordered absolutely everything in the city, as though he were sole ruler of it; whence some, jesting, kept altogether silent about the name of Bibulus, and both named and wrote Caesar twice, saying that Gaius Caesar
8.3. and Julius Caesar were consuls. But what concerned himself he managed through others. For this he guarded against very strictly, to give nothing to himself; and on this account he the more easily accomplished all that he desired. For he himself said that he had no further need of anything, but made a pretence of being
8.4. quite content with what he had; while others, on the ground that he was necessary and useful to affairs, both proposed all that he wished and brought it to ratification, not in the assembly only
8.5. but in the senate itself. For the crowd gave him the command of Illyricum and of Cisalpine Gaul, with three legions, for five years, and the senate entrusted to him in addition the Gaul beyond the mountains and another legion.
9.1. But even so, fearing lest Pompey, in his absence, should make some disturbance, since Aulus Gabinius was to be consul, he attached both him and the other consul, Lucius Piso, to himself by the bond of kinship; for to Pompey he gave his daughter in marriage, although she had been betrothed to another,
9.2. and himself married the daughter of Piso. And he was thus strengthened on every side; but Cicero and Lucullus, displeased at these things, attempted to kill Caesar and Pompey through a certain Lucius Vettius, but were unable, and within a little perished themselves besides. For Vettius, denounced beforehand and arrested before he could do anything,
9.3. informed against them; and had he not also reported Bibulus as a fellow-conspirator with them, they would certainly have suffered some dreadful fate; but as it was, because Vettius charged him out of revenge, since Bibulus had disclosed the matter to Pompey, it was suspected that he was not telling the truth in the rest either, but had been suborned by some contrivance to bring a false accusation against their
9.4. opponents. And concerning these things men said various things; for nothing was actually proved, but Vettius, brought before the multitude, and naming only those whom I have mentioned, was cast into prison, and there not long afterward was treacherously slain.
10.1. So Cicero, having become suspect from these things to both Caesar and Pompey, confirmed the suspicion by his defence on behalf of Antonius. For this man, while governing Macedonia, had done many dreadful things both to the subjects there and to those at peace with them,
10.2. and suffered many in return. For after plundering the lands of the Dardanians and of their neighbours, he did not dare to await their attack, but withdrew with his cavalry as though for some other purpose, and fled; and so they, surrounding the infantry, violently drove them out of the country
10.3. and took away the booty besides. And doing this same thing also among the allies in Moesia, he was defeated before the city of the Istrians by the Scythian Bastarnae, who came to their aid, and ran away. Yet for this he was not held to account, but was indicted for complicity in the conspiracy of Catiline, and was condemned for those other things; and it befell him that of the charges on which he was tried he was not convicted, while for those of which he
10.4. was not accused he was punished. And so he got off; but Cicero, pleading on his behalf at that time, as having been his colleague, made a most violent attack upon Caesar, as the cause of the suit against him, and even reviled him somewhat.
11.1. Caesar was vexed at this, as was natural, yet neither said nor did anything insolent toward him, although he was consul. For he said that many men purposely uttered much idle abuse against their betters, drawing them into contention . . . in order that they might seem to be their equals and like them, if they heard anything similar in return; and he did not think fit on this account to make
11.2. anyone his rival. And on this account he both bore himself thus toward the others who reviled him, and then, seeing that Cicero did not so much wish to revile him as to hear something similar in return, that he might be put on a level with him, took little heed of him and pretended none of what he said, but allowed him freely, as though it were some praise of himself, to use his
11.3. revilings. Yet he was not entirely careless of him. For he had truly been allotted a more reasonable nature, and was not very easily angered; yet he punished many, inasmuch as he was concerned in so many affairs, though not so as to do it in anger or always on the
11.4. instant. To passion, then, he gratified nothing, but watched for the occasion, and he proceeded against most men even without their being aware of it. For he acted, not that he might seem to take vengeance on anyone, but that he might manage everything to his own advantage with the least possible odium. And on this account he brought his punishments both secretly, and in cases where
11.5. one would least have expected — both for the sake of his reputation, that he might not seem to be of an angry temper, and that no one, foreseeing it, might guard himself or even venture beforehand on some dreadful deed before suffering. For he cared not so much for what had already happened as that future things should be prevented.
11.6. And from this he both forgave many even of those who had grievously wronged him, or proceeded against them but slightly, because he believed they would do no further mischief; and many he punished beyond what was fitting, for the sake of security, saying that the . . . could never be made not to have happened . . . by the excess of the punishment he would assuredly suffer something dreadful.
12.1. From these calculations, then, he at that time kept quiet himself, but perceiving that Clodius wished to repay him something, because he had not accused him of his adultery, he secretly prepared
12.2. him against Cicero. And first he transferred him again, that he might be lawfully adopted into the plebs — Pompey co-operating with him in this — and then brought it about that he was at once
12.3. appointed tribune. This Clodius, then, both stopped the mouth of Bibulus, when he came into the Forum on the day of his leaving office and intended, with the confirmation of his oath, to make a speech concerning present affairs, and set upon
12.4. Cicero. And since it did not seem to him easy to overthrow a man very powerful in the state through the cleverness of his speech, he turned to winning over not only the multitude but also the knights and the senate, among whom Cicero stood very high, hoping that, if he won these over, he would easily bring him down, inasmuch as he was strong through fear rather than goodwill.
12.5. For Cicero distressed very many by his speeches, and not so far did those who were aided by him become attached as those who were injured became estranged. For, besides that the greater part of men are more ready to be indignant at unpleasant things than to feel gratitude for better ones, and think that they have paid the wage to those who pleaded for them, while they choose in a manner
12.6. to take vengeance on those who opposed them, he made for himself most bitter enemies by ever trying to surpass even the strongest, and by using toward all alike a frankness unmixed and excessive, hunting after a reputation for being able both to understand and to say what no one else could, even before seeming to be a good
12.7. man. And from this, and because he boasted himself the greatest of men and counted no one his equal, but in his speeches alike and in his life despised all and thought it beneath him to be of like manner of living with anyone, he was burdensome and oppressive, and on these grounds, and by the very men whom he pleased, was both envied and hated.
13.1. Clodius, then, hoping for these reasons that, if he first prepared the senate and the knights and the crowd, he would quickly destroy him, immediately distributed grain free of charge (for he had proposed that it be measured out to the poor, Gabinius and
13.2. Piso being now consuls), and renewed the associations, called in the local tongue collegia, which existed from of old but had been abolished for a time; and he forbade the censors either to strike anyone from any class or to disfranchise anyone, save one who had been tried and convicted before them both.
13.3. Having allured them, then, by these means, he wrote also another law, concerning which it is necessary to speak at greater length, that it may become clearer to the many. For while the public divination was made, as I said, both from the heavens and from certain other sources, that from the heavens had the greatest authority, so that, whereas the other auguries were many and for each separate action, this was once for all
13.4. for the whole day. And this was most peculiar about it, that whereas in all other matters either he permitted something to be done, and it was done, no further augury being taken for each act, or he forbade it, and something was undertaken, yet in the case of the votings of the people he always interposed, and there was ever in regard to them a sign from the gods, whether it proved
13.5. favourable or unfavourable. The cause of this usage I cannot tell, but I write what is said. Since, then, many who wished to hinder either the introduction of laws or the appointment of magistrates brought before the people would announce beforehand that they would observe the heavens on that day, so that the people could have no
13.6. ratification on it, Clodius, fearing lest, when he indicted Cicero, some persons might by such means cause delay and protraction to the suit, brought in a law that none of the magistrates, on the days on which it was necessary for the people to vote anything, should observe the signs from the heavens.
14.1. Such, then, was what he then framed against Cicero. And when Cicero, understanding what was being done, prepared Lucius Ninnius Quadratus, a tribune, to oppose all their measures, Clodius, fearing lest from this there arise some disturbance and delay,
14.2. came to him and deceived him. For having first made an agreement with him that he would write nothing whatever against Cicero, if Cicero should not hinder any of the legislation, he then, while Cicero and Ninnius both kept quiet, enacted his laws, and after this set upon
14.3. Cicero. And so Cicero, although he claimed to be most prudent, was then deceived by Clodius — if indeed one ought to name him, and not Caesar and the others who had banded with them,
14.4. as the deceiver. And the law which Clodius afterward brought in did not otherwise seem to be aimed at Cicero (for it did not bear his name, but was introduced against all simply who should put to death, or had put to death, any citizen without the condemnation of the people), yet in deed it was framed especially against
14.5. him. For it bore also against the whole senate, because it had assigned to the consuls the guarding of the city, through which it was permitted them to do such things, and afterward had condemned to death Lentulus and the others then
14.6. executed; yet, since Cicero had both denounced them and ever proposed and voted, and at last had even carried out their punishment through those who serve in such matters, he alone, or
14.7. especially, bore the blame. And on this account he both vigorously opposed Clodius, and casting off his senatorial dress went about in that of the knights, and courted all who had any power, not only of his friends but even of his opponents, and especially Pompey and Caesar, although the latter did not openly avow his enmity, going round to them alike by day and by night.
15.1. And since they too wished to seem neither themselves to have prepared Clodius nor to be pleased with what was written by him, they devised against Cicero a certain deceit, fair-seeming for themselves
15.2. but to him obscure. For Caesar advised him to yield to Clodius, lest, remaining where he was, he perish; and that he might the more be believed to do this out of goodwill, he promised to employ him as his lieutenant, that he might withdraw out of Clodius's way, not with reproach as one liable to account, but with office
15.3. and honour. But Pompey dissuaded him from this, calling the thing outright a flight, and hinting that Caesar advised it unfriendlily and out of enmity toward him, and gave his opinion that he should remain and aid both himself and the senate with frank speech, and straightway take vengeance on Clodius;
15.4. for he said both that Clodius would be unable to accomplish anything while Cicero was present and opposing, and that he would moreover be punished, Pompey himself co-operating somewhat to this end. While they made such speeches, not because they thought differently from each other but in order that they might deceive him without arousing suspicion,
15.5. Cicero attached himself to Pompey. For he had no previous suspicion of him, and trusted that he would assuredly be saved by him. For of the rest, many both reverenced and honoured Cicero, so that he had rescued many in danger, some from the judges and some from the
15.6. accusers themselves; and Clodius, inasmuch as he had once been of his kin and had served with him a long time, seemed likely to do nothing contrary to his wish. And Gabinius outright, as being very much his friend, and Piso, both from his reasonableness and on account of his kinship with Caesar, he expected would be on his side.
16.1. Hoping, then, by these calculations to prevail (for he was confident beyond reason, just as he had feared without examination), and fearing lest he should seem to have made his departure from a guilty conscience, he professed to feel some gratitude to Caesar, but was persuaded by Pompey.
16.2. And he, thus deceived, made ready as though he would far surpass his enemies. For, besides what has been said, the knights too, coming together to the Capitol, sent envoys on his behalf both to the consuls and the senate, among them certain other men and some
16.3. senators, Quintus Hortensius and Gaius Curio; and Ninnius both assisted him in other ways and urged the multitude to change their dress as though over some common calamity. And many even of the senators did this, and did not change back until the consuls rebuked them by an edict.
16.4. But since the party of his opponents was the stronger, neither did Clodius permit Ninnius to transact any business on his behalf, nor did Gabinius grant the knights access to the senate, but even drove one of them, who pressed hard, out of the city, and brought a charge against Hortensius and Curio, because they had attended the knights when they assembled
16.5. and had undertaken the embassy. And these men Clodius brought before the multitude and had beaten with blows, on account of the embassy, by certain men prepared beforehand. And after this Piso, although he seemed well-disposed toward Cicero and had even advised him, when he saw that he could not otherwise be saved, to withdraw beforehand, yet, since on
16.6. that account Cicero was angry, came into the assembly when first he was able (for he was for the most part sick), and when Clodius asked him what opinion he held concerning what was written, said: "No cruel or harsh deed pleases me." And Gabinius, asked this same thing, so far from praising Cicero, even accused besides both the knights and the senate.
17.1. Caesar, however (for Clodius, on his account, since he had set out on his campaign, had gathered the crowd outside the wall and made him a judge of what was written), condemned the illegality of what had been done in the case of Lentulus,
17.2. yet did not approve the punishment proposed for it; for he said that all knew what he had thought concerning the events of that time (for he had given the vote that would save them), but that it was not fitting to frame any such law concerning things
17.3. already past. Caesar said this; but Crassus through his son made some show of aid to Cicero, while he himself worked for the cause of the multitude. And Pompey promised him assistance, but making various excuses at various times and purposely setting out on frequent journeys, did not come to his aid.
17.4. Cicero, then, seeing this and afraid, again attempted to take up arms (for among other things he was openly insulting Pompey), but being hindered by Cato and Hortensius, lest from this a civil war should arise, then at last, even against his will and with shame and ill repute, as though he had fled willingly from a guilty
17.5. conscience, he withdrew. But before setting out he went up to the Capitol and dedicated a little image of Athena, naming her the Guardian. He withdrew to Sicily; for he had been its patron, and had great hope of being honoured both among the communities and the private men and by their governor.
17.6. When he had fled, the law took effect — not only with no one opposing, but with others, and those very men who seemed to manage Cicero's affairs among the foremost, exerting themselves for it, since he had once been got out of the way; and his property was confiscated, and his house, as though it belonged to some enemy, was razed, and its ground was dedicated to a temple
17.7. of Liberty. And to Cicero himself both his exile was further confirmed and his stay in Sicily forbidden; for he was banished three thousand seven hundred and fifty stades beyond Rome, and it was proclaimed besides that, if he should ever appear within these bounds, both he and those who received him might be slain with impunity.
18.1. And so he removed to Macedonia for this reason and there spent his time lamenting; and a certain Philiscus, a man who had been with him at Athens and then by chance met him, said: "Are you not ashamed, Cicero, to weep and bear yourself like a woman? For I should never have expected you to be so softened, you who have shared in so much and so varied an education and have pleaded for many."
18.2. And he answered and said: "But it is nothing alike, Philiscus, to speak on behalf of others and to give counsel to oneself. For the things said on behalf of others' concerns, proceeding from a right and uncorrupted judgment, find their due occasion; but when some suffering lays hold of the soul, it is troubled and darkened and can conceive nothing seasonable. Whence, I think, it has very well been said that it is easier to admonish others than, when one has suffered oneself, to endure."
18.3. "You say something human," said Philiscus; "yet I should not have thought it right that you, who have made use of so great wisdom and practised so great philosophy, should not have prepared yourself beforehand against all human chances, so that, if anything unexpected should befall you, it might not
18.4. find you even undefended. But since you are in this state, . . . for indeed I might profit you by discoursing of what is fitting, that, as those who help in lifting burdens lighten them for some, I too might make this affliction lighter for you, by so much the more easily than those, in that I shall take upon me no
18.5. part of it, even the smallest. For surely you will not deem it unworthy to receive some consolation from another. For if you were sufficient unto yourself, we should have no need of these words; but as it is, you have suffered the same as if Hippocrates or Democedes or some other of the very great physicians, having fallen into a disease hard to cure, had needed another's hand for its healing."
19.1. "But if," said Cicero, "you have any such discourse as can take away this mist from my soul and restore me to my former light, I am most ready to listen. For just as of drugs, so also of words there are many differences and varied powers, so that it would be no wonder if you should, by some wisdom, soothe even me, who was brilliant in the senate and in the assemblies and in the law-courts."
19.2. "Come then," said Philiscus, "since you are ready to listen, let us consider first whether these things that have beset you are truly evils, and then in what manner we shall heal them. First of all, then, I see you sound in body and very strong, which is surely the first natural good for men, and next that you possess sufficient
19.3. of the necessaries of life, so that you suffer neither hunger nor thirst nor cold nor any other distress through want, which one would reasonably set down as the second natural good for a man. For when both the constitution of a man's body is well and he can subsist without anxiety, he reaps all that conduces to happiness."
20.1. Cicero, then, taking him up, said: "But there is no profit in such things, when something grieves and gnaws at one's soul; for the cares of the soul afflict a man far more than the well-being of the body delights him. So I too now value neither health of body, being sick in mind, nor abundance of necessaries; for I have been deprived of many things."
20.2. And he replied: "Does this too grieve you? For if you were going to lack the necessaries, there would be some reason for your being distressed at what is lost; but if you have all the necessaries in full, why are you troubled that you do not possess more? For everything that is beyond need is superfluous, and is in like case whether present or
20.3. absent; since assuredly even before you made no use of what was unnecessary, so that you may reckon that then you lacked what you did not need, or that now you have what you do not require. For neither were the most of these things ancestral to you, that you should make any peculiarly private concern of them, but they were procured by your tongue and your speeches, through which they have also
20.4. been lost. You ought not, then, to be indignant if, just as they were acquired by certain means, so too they were cast away by the same. For neither do shipmasters bear it very ill when they suffer great losses; for they know, I think, how to reckon prudently that the sea which gives them these things also takes them away.
21.1. And concerning these things enough. For I hold that it suffices a man for happiness to possess what is sufficient and to lack nothing of which the body has need, and I consider that all that is superfluous brings both cares
21.2. and troubles and envies. But since you said that there is no enjoyment of the goods of the body unless the goods of the soul are also present to a man, the saying is true (for it is impossible, when the soul is in a bad state, that this should not be diseased along with it); yet I think it far easier for one to take care of the good condition of the
21.3. mind than of that of the body. For the body, being fleshly, has in itself many distempers and needs much help from the divine power; but the soul, as being of a more divine nature, can easily be set in order and admonished. Let us see, then, here too, what of the soul's goods has departed from you, and what evil has come upon you which we cannot rub away.
22.1. First, then, I see you to be the most prudent of men; the proof is that you persuaded both the senate and the people in very many cases in which you gave them counsel, and benefited very many private men in those in which you pleaded for them;
22.2. and next, the most just; for everywhere you are found contending on behalf of your country and your friends against those who plotted against them; and these very things which you now suffer have befallen you for no other reason than that you ever continued both in word and deed to do all on behalf of the laws and of the
22.3. constitution. And further, that you have attained the first rank in temperance, your very pursuit shows; for it is not possible for one who is a slave to the pleasures of the body to be ever in public and to move about in the Forum, making his deeds by day witnesses
22.4. of those by night. These things being so, I thought you also the most courageous, using as you do so great force of intellect and so great power of speech; but you, it seems, struck down at your own self because you stumbled beyond your hope and beyond your desert, have lost something of your great courage.
22.5. But this you will straightway recover; and such being your circumstances, with your body well and your soul well, I do not see what it is that grieves you."
23.1. When he had said this, Cicero said: "Does it then not seem to you a great evil — dishonour and exile, and neither to dwell at home nor to be with one's friends, but, cast out of one's country with insolence, to live in a foreign land and to wander about, called an exile, affording laughter to one's enemies and disgrace to one's kin?"
23.2. "By no means, to me at least," said Philiscus. "For there being these two things of which we are composed, soul and body, and to each of these definite goods and evils given by Nature herself, if anything be amiss concerning these, it might reasonably be reckoned both harmful and disgraceful, but if it be in right order,
23.3. it would rather be of profit. And this is now your case. For those other things, exiles and dishonours, and any such thing besides, are disgraceful and evil only by law and a certain opinion, and do no injury either to body or to soul. For what body could you name that has fallen sick or perished, what soul that has become more unjust or more ignorant through dishonour or exile or any other such thing? For my part I
23.4. do not see it. And the cause is that none of these things is by nature evil, just as honour and dwelling in one's country are not by nature good, but as each one of us forms his opinion concerning them, such
23.5. they also seem to be. For instance, men do not count dishonour for the same things at all, but some deeds, blameworthy in the eyes of certain peoples, are praised among others, and other deeds, honoured by some, are punished by others; and there are some who do not even know
23.6. either the name or the thing of it at all. And quite reasonably; for whatever does not touch the things that pertain to the nature of man is not considered to belong to him. Just as, then, if there were some judgment or vote that so-and-so should be sick or that so-and-so should be ugly, it would surely be most ridiculous, so it is also concerning dishonour.
24.1. And I see this same thing to be true of exile as well. For exile is a certain dishonoured sojourn abroad; so that, if dishonour in itself has no evil, neither can it fasten any evil
24.2. upon exile, since in any case very many for the longest time sojourn abroad, some unwillingly, some even willingly, and some spend their whole life roaming about, as though ever driven from every quarter, and yet think themselves in no way
24.3. harmed thereby. Nor indeed does it make any difference whether a man does this willingly or not; for neither is he who exercises his body unwillingly any the less strong than he who does it of his own accord, nor does he who sails unwillingly gain any less profit than the other. And this very point, the unwillingness, I do not see how it can befall a man of
24.4. sense. So that, if the difference between faring well and faring ill lies in this, that we do some things willingly and readily, others unwillingly and with reluctance, the remedy is easy; for if we endure all necessary things willingly and are mastered by none of them, all those things too are at once done away with which one might place in the category of
24.5. the unwilling. For there is indeed an ancient saying, and a very good one, that we ought not to demand that whatever we wish should come to pass, but to wish whatever comes to pass of some necessity. For neither have we the manner of our life of our own choosing, nor are we our own masters; but as it may seem good
24.6. to fortune, and whatever kind of spirit is given to each of us as the fulfiller of what is appointed, such we must perforce make that spirit too.
25.1. These things, then, are so, whether we will or no. But if it is not dishonour itself nor exile itself that grieves you, but that, not only having done your country no wrong but having conferred on it many benefits, you have been dishonoured and driven out, consider this, that since it was once fated for you to suffer some such thing, it is surely the fairest and best
25.2. that has befallen you, to be wronged without having done any wrong. For you counselled and did all that was fitting for the citizens, not as a private man but as consul, not busying yourself in anything privately but obeying the decrees of the senate, which were made not by way of faction but
25.3. for the best; whereas so-and-so and so-and-so, out of arbitrary power and spite, contrived everything against you, so that it is fitting for them both to be grieved and to be distressed over the injustice, while for you it is both honourable and necessary to bear bravely
25.4. what has seemed good to your guardian spirit. For surely you would not rather have joined Catiline and conspired with Lentulus, and counselled everything contrary to the interests of your country, and done none of the things laid upon you by it, and remained at home doing wrong, than have gone into exile by acting rightly.
25.5. So that, if you care also for reputation, it is far preferable to have been cast out having done no wrong than, having done some mischief, to have remained at home; for, among other things, the shame attaches to those who unjustly banished a man, not to him who was driven out by their spite.
26.1. And indeed I hear this, that you did not change your abode unwillingly or because convicted, but that of your own accord you hated life among them, since you could neither make them better nor endure to perish along with them, and that you fled not your country but those who were plotting against it. So that they would be the dishonoured and the exiles, having cast every good thing out of their
26.2. souls, while you are in honour and happy, neither absurdly serving anyone and having all that befits you, whether you choose to live in Sicily or in Macedonia or anywhere else in the inhabited world. For surely places give neither good fortune nor ill fortune to anyone, but each man himself makes for himself both a country and happiness ever and
26.3. everywhere. With this thought Camillus gladly dwelt in Ardea; with this reckoning Scipio passed his life without grief at Liternum. For why need one speak of Aristides, why of Themistocles, whom exile made more renowned? why of . . . why of Solon, who of his own will lived abroad ten years?
26.4. Do not you, then, count any of these things grievous, things which pertain neither to the nature of our body nor of our soul, nor be indignant at what has befallen you. For we have no choice of living as we wish, as I said, but it is wholly necessary for us to endure
26.5. what seems good to the divine power. And if we do this willingly, we shall not be grieved; but if unwillingly, we shall neither escape any of the things fated, and shall acquire the greatest of evils besides,
26.6. the being vainly distressed. The proof is that those who bear even the most untoward things easily think themselves to be in no dreadful case, while those who are weighed down even by the lightest suspect that they have all the evils that come from men; and again, some, managing the better things ill and others the worse things well, make both seem to others such as they prepare them to be for themselves.
27.1. Do you, then, reckoning these things, neither be vexed at the present, nor, if you learn that those who cast you out are prospering, be grieved. For the prosperities of men are light and short-lived and besides, and the more a man is exalted by them, the more easily, like a breath, he falls, especially
27.2. in seditions. For, being borne along in disturbed and unstable affairs, they differ little, or rather nothing, from those tossed by a storm, but they dart up and down, now here, now there; and if they stumble even in the very
27.3. least, they are wholly engulfed. And, that I may speak neither of Drusus nor of Scipio nor of the Gracchi nor of any others, remember how Camillus the exile afterward came off better than Capitolinus, remember how far Aristides afterward surpassed Themistocles.
27.4. So do you above all hope to be brought back (for you have not been driven out for any wrongdoing, and they who cast you out will themselves, as I hear, seek you, and all will long for you); but if you abide in your present lot, do not be
28.1. distressed thereby in the least. For if you will hearken to me, you will be quite content to choose some little place by the sea, off the beaten track, and there at once both till the ground and write something, like Xenophon,
28.2. like Thucydides. For this kind of wisdom is most enduring and most suited to every man and every state, and exile brings a more fruitful leisure. So that, if you wish to become truly immortal like those men, emulate them.
28.3. For you have sufficient of the necessaries and you lack no rank. For if there is any good in these things, you have been consul; and nothing more belongs to those who have held office a second and a third or even a fourth time, except an empty number of letters, which profit no man either living or dead.
28.4. You would not, then, choose to be either Corvinus or Marius, who was seven times consul, rather than Cicero. Nor again do you desire any command, you who even gave up the one granted to you, despising both the gains from it and the brief and accountable power, liable to all who wish
28.5. to slander. And these things I have said, not because any of them is necessary to happiness, but because in public affairs too, since it was needful, you have been sufficiently tested, that, learning from them too the difference of the modes of life, you may choose the one and reject the other, and pursue the one and flee the other. For our life is short, and you ought not to live it all for others,
28.6. but already to gratify yourself somewhat. Consider how greatly quiet differs from turmoil, and a tranquil course from tumults, and freedom from slavery, and safety from dangers, that you may desire to live as I counsel you. For thus you will be happy, and your name will be great both while you live, on this account, and when you have
29.1. died. But if you are eager for your recall and emulate distinction in public life, I am unwilling to say anything harsh, but I fear, looking at affairs and reflecting on your frankness, and beholding the power and the multitude of your opponents,
29.2. lest you stumble again. And if you should be in exile, you will only repent; but if you should suffer some other irremediable thing, you will not even be able to repent. Yet how is it not dreadful, how is it not shameful, that a man's head should be cut off and set up in the Forum, and, if it so chance, that some man and
29.3. some woman should outrage it? And do not hate me as one foreboding evil to you, but guard yourself against it as against one pointing out beforehand some sign from the gods. And let not this deceive you, that you have certain friends among the men of power; for those who seem to love you will profit you nothing against those who are hostilely disposed, as
29.4. indeed you have learned by experience. For those who lust for power count all else as nothing for the attainment of what they wish, but often exchange even their dearest and most kindred for their bitterest foes."
30.1. And Cicero, on hearing these things, became somewhat easier; yet he was not long in exile, but was brought back by Pompey himself, the very man who had been chiefly responsible for casting him out. The cause was that Clodius, persuaded by a bribe, snatched away and released the younger Tigranes, who was even then
30.2. still in bonds in the keeping of Lucius Flavius, and, when Pompey and Gabinius were indignant at this, treated them with outrage, both giving blows and wounds to those about them, and breaking the consul's fasces and consecrating his property.
30.3. For Pompey, angered by these things, and especially because Clodius was using against him the very power which he himself had restored to the tribunes, wished to recall Cicero, and at once began to work for his return through Ninnius.
30.4. And he brought into the senate-house the motion on his behalf, watching for Clodius to be absent; but when another tribune opposed him, he posted it up as though he would communicate it also to the multitude, and opposed Clodius once for all in everything. And from this both rivalries and many wounds on both
30.5. sides arose between them. But before it came to this, Clodius, wishing both to remove Cato out of the way, that he might the more easily accomplish what he was doing, and to take vengeance on Ptolemy, who then held Cyprus, because he had not ransomed him from the pirates, both confiscated the island and sent Cato, much against his will, to administer it.
31.1. These things were happening in the city; but Caesar found no enemy in Gaul, but everything was at perfect peace; yet he did not pass the time in peace, but, a war first arising of itself for him, another followed, so that he both . . . everything, which he desired above all,
31.2. and made war and was successful. For the Helvetii, abounding in numbers and not having a country sufficient for their populousness, were unwilling to send out a part to a colony, lest, being divided, they should become more easily plotted against by those once injured by them, but, all wishing to migrate, as though to be removed to some other and larger and better country, burned all their villages and cities, that none
31.3. might feel any regret for the removal. And taking up also certain others who desired the same thing, they set out, with Orgetorix leading them, intending both to cross the Rhone and to settle somewhere near the Alps. And when Caesar cut the bridge and made his other preparations as though to prevent them from crossing, they sent to him asking a passage and promising besides that they would do no harm to the land of the Romans.
31.4. And he, although he by no means trusted them, nor was likely to permit them to advance anywhere, yet, since he was not yet well prepared, said that he would deliberate with his lieutenants concerning their requests and would give his answer on a certain fixed day. And he held out some hope, as though he would grant them the passage. Meanwhile he dug trenches and built walls across the most critical points, so that the road became impassable for them.
32.1. The barbarians, then, waited some time, but afterward, when they heard nothing according to the agreement, set out, and at first proceeded through the Allobroges by the way they had started; then, meeting the
32.2. obstacles, they turned aside to the Sequani, and passing through them and through the Aedui, who willingly granted them passage on condition that they should suffer no harm, did not abide by what had been agreed, but ravaged their country. So the Sequani and the Aedui, sending to Caesar, both asked aid of him and begged him not to
32.3. overlook their destruction. And though they said nothing like what they had done, yet they obtained what they asked; for Caesar, fearing lest the Helvetii turn also toward Tolosa, chose rather to ward them off along with these peoples than, if they came to agreement together — which was clearly going to happen — to make war on them.
32.4. So, falling on this account upon the Helvetii as they were crossing the Arar, he destroyed those last in the line who were following, at the very crossing, and so dismayed those who had gone ahead, by the suddenness and the swiftness of the pursuit and the news of those who had perished, that they were willing to come
33.1. to an agreement, on condition of being assigned a certain country. They did not, however, come to terms; for when hostages were demanded of them, they were indignant, not because they were distrusted, but because they disdained to give hostages to anyone. So they made light of the truce, and advancing again, made a stand and conquered with their cavalry Caesar's cavalry, which had run far ahead of the infantry and was harassing their
33.2. rear-guard. And from this, taking heart themselves, and thinking that he was fleeing both because of his inferiority and because, being short of provisions, he had turned aside to a certain city out of the road,
33.3. they gave up their advance and pursued him. Caesar, then, seeing this, and fearing both their onset and their numbers, hastened with his infantry to a certain height, and put forward his cavalry to take the first risk for them, until he should draw up in a suitable place. And when these in turn routed his cavalry, and were borne in their fury against the very steep, he charged down upon them suddenly, and being in close order easily thrust back from the higher ground
33.4. men who were scattered. And while these were being routed, certain others of those not fighting (for, by reason of their numbers and their haste, not all had come up at once) fell suddenly on the rear of those pursuing them, and threw
33.5. them into confusion, but gained nothing further; for Caesar, assigning the fugitives to his cavalry, himself turned with his legionaries against those others, and prevailing followed both bodies who fled together to their wagons, and there again conquered them as they vigorously defended themselves. Having suffered
33.6. these things, the barbarians were divided into two parts. For some came to terms with him and returned to their own land whence they had set out, and there, restoring their cities, dwelt; but the others, unwilling to give up their arms, set out toward the Rhine, as though able to return to their ancient land, and the allies of the Romans, through whose territory they passed, easily destroyed them, inasmuch as they were few and defeated.
34.1. Thus, then, did Caesar wage his first war; but beginning from there he did not rest, but at once both fulfilled his own purpose and gratified his allies. For the Sequani and the Aedui, seeing his desire and perceiving that his deeds agreed with their hopes, wished both to lay up a benefit with him and to take vengeance on the Celts who bordered
34.2. on them; for these Celts had long before crossed the Rhine, and had cut off some of their land and made them tributary, holding their hostages. And as it happened that they begged what he desired, they easily persuaded him to come to their aid.
34.3. For Ariovistus was ruler of those Celts, and had received the confirmation of his kingship from the Romans, and had been enrolled among their friends and allies by Caesar himself when consul; but in view of the glory from the war and the strength thence arising, Caesar took no account of these things, save in so far as he wished to take from the barbarian a pretext for the quarrel, that he might not be thought to have begun any wrong
34.4. against him. And on this account he summoned him as though needing to discuss something with him. And when Ariovistus did not obey, but even said, "If Caesar wishes to say anything to me, let him come to me himself; for I am in no way inferior to him, and he who has need of
34.5. anything ought to come to the other," Caesar made this an occasion of anger, as though Ariovistus had insulted all the Romans, and straightway demanded back of him the hostages of the allies, and forbade him both to set foot in their country and to bring in reinforcements from home.
34.6. He did this, not because he hoped to overawe him, but because he hoped to enrage him, and from this to gain a great and seemly pretext for war. And so it came about; for the barbarian, vexed at the orders, answered many dreadful things, so that Caesar sent him no further words, but at once, and before anyone perceived it, seized beforehand Vesontio, the city of the Sequani.
35.1. Meanwhile the soldiers, when news came that Ariovistus was making strong preparation, and that many other of the Celts had some already crossed the Rhine to his aid, and others were gathered at the very river to fall upon them suddenly, were terribly disheartened;
35.2. for, struck with dismay at their size and number and boldness and the ready threats arising from it, they were so disposed as though they would have to deal not with men but with beasts impossible and savage. And they kept saying that they were taking up a war neither fitting nor voted, on account of Caesar's private ambition, and threatened besides to abandon him, unless he should change his course.
35.3. Learning this, then, Caesar made no address to the body of the soldiers (for he thought it not honourable to say such things to many, and that too when they were likely to go out to the enemy, and feared lest, disobeying, they raise a tumult and work some mischief), but gathering the lieutenants and the subalterns spoke among them to the following effect.
36.1. "I think, my friends, that we ought not to deliberate in the same way about private and about public matters. For I do not see that the aim is the same for each man privately and for all in common. For us it befits to choose and do the most reasonable and safest things, but for the people
36.2. the strongest. For one must be active even in private matters; for reasonableness will not be saved unless it be guarded by activity; nevertheless the man who is most free from affairs seems also to be safest, while a state, especially one holding empire, would most quickly be brought down by such a course.
36.3. For these things were ordained thus, not by men but by Nature herself as lawgiver, and ever were and are and will be so long as the mortal race endures. These things being so, none of you ought to look more to his own private pleasure and safety at the present than to what is both seemly
36.4. and expedient for all the Romans. For consider, among the rest that is likely, especially this, that we came hither, so many and such men, both from the senate and from the knights, having taken a great multitude of soldiers and abundant money,
36.5. not that we might be idle, nor that we might be careless, but that we might rightly administer the affairs of the subjects and safely preserve those of our allies, and ward off those who attempt to wrong them, and
36.6. increase our own. For if we did not come hither with this purpose, why ever did we go out on the campaign at all, instead of remaining in a manner at home and at our own affairs? For surely it were better not even to have undertaken the campaign
36.7. than, when charged with it, to betray it. And if some of us are present compelled by the laws to do what our country commands, and the greater part willingly, both for the honours and for the advantages that come from wars, how could it be either honourable or holy for us to belie both the hopes of those who sent us out and our own?
36.8. For privately not even one man could prosper so well as not to perish along with the commonwealth if it stumbles; whereas the commonwealth, faring well, bears up too the misfortunes of each individual.
37.1. And I say these things not to you, my comrades and friends, who are here (for you neither are otherwise ignorant of them, so as to need to be taught, nor are so careless of them as to need exhortation), but because I have perceived that certain of the soldiers both murmur that we have taken up this war unfittingly, and stir up the others to faction,
37.2. in order that you may both make your own zeal on behalf of your country firmer from my words, and may teach those men all that is fitting; for they would profit more by hearing these things from you privately and often than by learning them
37.3. once from me. Tell them, then, that our forefathers did not make our city so great by remaining at home, nor by shrinking from campaigns, nor by avoiding wars, nor by pursuing ease, but by readily daring with their minds all that was fitting and zealously toiling with their bodies through all that they resolved,
37.4. ever risking their own as though it were another's, and readily acquiring their neighbours' as though it were their own, and thinking happiness to be nothing else than the doing of their duty, and counting misfortune nothing else than to be at rest in inaction.
37.5. Therefore, from these policies, they themselves, being very few at the beginning and holding no city which was not smaller at first, mastered the Latins, conquered the Sabines, subdued the Etruscans, the Volsci, the Opici, the Lucanians, the Samnites — in one word, subdued all the land within the Alps, and thrust back all the foreign
38.1. peoples who came upon them. And the Romans after these, and our fathers, emulating them, were not content with what they had, nor satisfied with what they had inherited, but, deeming ease a clear ruin to themselves and toil a sure salvation, and fearing lest, if their possessions remained as they were, they should be worn out and grow old, and being ashamed if, having received so much, they should acquire nothing in addition,
38.2. won in addition far more and greater things. For why need one speak of each separately — Sardinia, Sicily, the Macedonians, the Illyrians, Greece, Asia about Ionia, the Bithynians, the Iberians, the Africans? And yet the Carthaginians would have given them much money not to sail thither, Philip and Perseus much not to make war upon them, Antiochus much, and his children and descendants much,
38.3. to remain in Europe. But neither did those men, in view of their glory and the greatness of their empire, choose to be ingloriously idle and to grow rich in security, nor did the elder among our own who are still living, but, knowing well that goods are both acquired and preserved by the same pursuits, they both confirmed much of what they already had and acquired much in addition.
38.4. For why need one here too go through each — Crete, Pontus, Cyprus, the Asiatic Iberia, the Albania there, the two Syrias, the two Armenias, the Arabians, the Palestinians? Of these we did not before even accurately know the names, yet now some of them we ourselves rule, others we have bestowed on others, so that from them we have gained both revenues and forces and honours and alliances.
39.1. Having, then, such examples, neither disgrace the deeds of your fathers nor let go the empire that is already greatest. For we ought not to deliberate on equal terms with the rest, who possess nothing of the kind.
39.2. For them it suffices to take their ease and to have submitted in safety to others; but for us it is necessary both to toil and to make war and amid dangers to guard our present happiness. For many plot against it; for everything that towers above others is both emulated and envied, and from this there is everlasting war for all the weaker against those who in any way are
39.3. superior among them. Either, then, from the first we ought not to have grown beyond other men, or, since we have become so great and have acquired so much, it is fated either to rule the rest with a strong hand or to perish utterly ourselves (for it is impossible for those who have advanced to so great dignity and so great power to live as private men without danger); let us, then, obey fortune, and not thrust away her who, of her own accord and unbidden, was present with our fathers and abides
39.4. with us. And this will not be if we cast away our arms, nor if we abandon our ranks, nor if we sit idly at home or wander about among our allies, but if we ever keep our arms in our hands (for thus alone is peace preserved), and practise the works of war amid dangers (for thus alone shall we not always be at war),
39.5. and aid without excuse such of our allies as need it (for thus we shall have far more), and not yield to any of the enemy who ever stir up trouble (for thus no one will any longer wish to wrong us).
40.1. For if some one of the gods had become surety to us that, even if we did not these things, no one would plot against us and we should ever safely enjoy all that we possess, it would be shameful to say that we ought to keep quiet, yet even so those who wish to do none of their duty would have some
40.2. specious pretext. But if it is necessary that those who possess anything be plotted against by many, and fitting to forestall their attacks, and if those who keep quiet over their own possessions even endanger them, while those who from their abundance use war also against the property of others both keep their own safe
40.3. (for no one who fears for his own desires his neighbour's, since the fear for what he has strongly turns him away from meddling with what does not belong to him) — what is this that one says, that we ought not ever to acquire something more?
40.4. Do you not remember, having partly heard and partly seen, that no one of the peoples in Italy refrained from plotting against our country until our forefathers made their wars in those peoples' own land, nor did the Epirots until they crossed over into
40.5. Greece? Did not Philip intend to make war even upon Italy, until they anticipated him and harmed his land? Did not Perseus, did not Antiochus, did not Mithridates, before they had done the same to them? And why should one speak of the rest?
40.6. But the Carthaginians, so long as they had nothing dreadful from us in Africa, sailed across into Italy and overran the country and sacked the cities and within a little took the city itself; whereas, when war began to be made on them in turn, they fled utterly
40.7. out of our land. And one might say these same things of the Galatians and the Celts. For these too, so long as we remained within the Alps, often crossed them and sacked much of Italy; but when we once dared both to go out beyond our borders and to set war about them, and cut off some of their land, we no longer saw any war from them in Italy, save once.
40.8. When, therefore, things being thus, one says that we ought not to make war, he says nothing else than that we ought not to be rich, ought not to rule over others, ought not to be free,
40.9. ought not to be Romans. Just as, then, if one had said any of these things, you would not have endured it but would have killed him on the spot, so now too, my comrades, dispose yourselves toward those who say such things, judging their mind not by their words but by their deeds. That we ought, then, to be thus minded, I think none of
41.1. you would gainsay. But if, because this war has neither been examined by the senate nor voted by the people, on that account anyone thinks we ought to be less zealous, let him reckon this, that of all the wars which have ever befallen us, some have come about from preparation and previous proclamation,
41.2. others on the occasion of the moment. And on this account, whatever is set in motion while we are remaining at home and keeping quiet, and takes the beginning of its grievances from some embassy, both must and necessarily does receive deliberation concerning it and a vote, and after this the consuls or praetors are charged with it
41.3. and the forces sent out; but whatever comes to light when men have already gone forth and are on campaign, this no longer ought to be brought to decision, but, as being decided and ratified by the very need, ought to be forestalled before it grows.
41.4. Or for what purpose did the people send you out hither, for what purpose did it dispatch me straightway after my consulship, choosing me to rule for five years at once, which had never happened before, and arming me with four legions, unless it thought that we should
41.5. assuredly have to make war? For surely it was not that we might be maintained in vain, nor that we might go about the allied cities and the subject country and become more grievous to them than even the enemy — no one would say this — but that we might guard our own, that we might ravage the enemy's, that we might do something worthy both of our numbers and
41.6. of the expenditures. Therefore in this both this war and any other whatsoever has been both entrusted and committed to us. And they acted very prudently in leaving to us the decision of whom we must war with, and in not themselves voting the war. For they, being so far removed from the allies, could not have accurately ascertained their affairs, nor would they have dealt with the enemy, who knew and were prepared beforehand, in
41.7. so suitable a manner; whereas we, becoming at once both judges and ministers of the war, and moreover bringing our arms straightway against enemies caught in the act, will conduct it neither without examination nor unjustly nor unguardedly.
42.1. And if anyone of you supposes this, that what so great wrong has Ariovistus done that he should become from a friend and ally an enemy to us, let him consider this, that those who attempt any wrong must be warded off not only for what they do but for what they intend, and that we must forestall their increase before we suffer any harm, and not, having waited to suffer evil in deed, then take vengeance.
42.2. That he is, then, an enemy and a most bitter enemy to us, how could it be more clearly proved than from what he has done? For when I sent to him in friendly fashion that he should come to us and deliberate in common with us concerning present affairs, he neither
42.3. came nor promised to come. And yet what unjust or unreasonable or burdensome thing did I do in summoning him as a friend and ally? And what of insolence and wantonness has he left undone, in being unwilling to come? Is it not necessary that one of two things be true, that either suspecting he would suffer some harm, or despising us, he
42.4. did this? Well then, if he has any suspicion, he most clearly convicts himself of plotting against us; for no one who has suffered nothing dreadful from us is suspicious of us, nor becomes so from a right and guileless mind, but those who have prepared beforehand to wrong certain men have the suspicion against them ready
42.5. from their own consciousness; or again, if no such thing underlies it and he has despised us and insulted us with proud words, what must we expect this man to do when he lays hold of some deed? For he who has used so great contempt in matters where he was to gain nothing, how is he not long since convicted of neither thinking nor doing anything just? Yet this did not suffice him, but he even bade me come to him, if I had any
43.1. need of him. And do not think this addition a small matter; for it is a great proof of his disposition. For that he was unwilling to come to us one might perhaps ascribe, in his defence, to hesitation and infirmity
43.2. and fear; but his summoning me admits no excuse, and proves this besides, that he did it for no other reason than that he is prepared neither to obey us in anything but moreover to lay commands upon us in return for everything.
43.3. And yet how full is this very thing of insolence and contumely? The proconsul of the Romans summons someone, and he does not come; an Allobrox summons the proconsul of the Romans. For do not, because it was not me, Caesar, that he refused to obey, nor me, Caesar, that he summoned, think this a small and
43.4. trifling matter. For it was not I that summoned him, but the Roman, the proconsul, the fasces, the dignity, the legions, nor was it I that was summoned by him, but all these. For privately I have no dealing with him; but in common we all both said something and did something and heard something in return and suffered something in return.
44.1. So that the more anyone shall say that he has been enrolled among our friends and allies, the more he will prove him worthy to be hated. Why? Because what not even one of our bitterest enemies, while admitting himself to be such, ever dared to do, this he has wrought under the names of friendship and alliance, as though he had made them for this very purpose, that he might be able to wrong us with
44.2. impunity. But neither did we then make a treaty with him on condition of being insulted and plotted against, nor will we ourselves now break the truce; for we sent an embassy to him as though he were still a friend and ally, but you see how he has treated us.
44.3. Just as, then, when he wished to benefit us and thought fit to be benefited in return, he justly obtained those things, so now too, since he does everything contrary to them, he would most justly be reckoned in the place of an enemy. And do not wonder if I myself, who once transacted some business on his behalf both in the senate and before the
44.4. people, now say these things. For I both then and now hold the same opinion and do not change. And what is it? To honour and requite the good and faithful, and to dishonour and ward off the bad and faithless. It is he who changes, who uses neither honourably nor fittingly what was given him by us.
45.1. So that we should most justly make war upon him, I think no one will dispute; but that he is neither invincible nor hard to war against, you see both from the rest of his kinsmen, whom we have often before, and most easily even now, conquered, and may reckon from what we learn concerning
45.2. that very man. For he has no force of his own otherwise compacted and well-trained; and now, inasmuch as he expects nothing dreadful, he is wholly unprepared. Nor again would any of his neighbours aid him zealously, even if he should much
45.3. invite them; for who would choose to ally with him and make war on us, when he has suffered no harm from us? How would not all rather join with us than with him, wishing both to destroy his tyranny, which borders on them, and to gain from us some portion of his land?
45.4. But even if some should band with him, yet they would not be stronger than we. For, to pass over the rest — our numbers, our age, our experience, our deeds — who does not know this at least, that we are armed alike over the whole body, while they for the most part are bare, and that we use both reckoning and order, while they are borne in their passion
45.5. against everything without array? Do not, then, fear either their onset or the greatness either of their bodies or of their shouting. For a voice has never yet killed any man, and their bodies will be able to do nothing more, having the same hands as we, but to suffer far more, being great and bare; and their onset, immoderate and headlong at the outset, is both
46.1. easily spent and blooms but for a little. To you, then, who have had experience of what I say and have conquered men like them, I give this counsel, that you neither seem to be misled by me in word, and may in deed make your hope of victory most secure from
46.2. what you have already accomplished. And moreover many of the Galatians themselves, who are like them, will fight as our allies, so that, if these peoples had anything to fear, this will belong both to us and to them. These things, then, reckon thus yourselves, and teach
46.3. the others; for if even some of you are otherwise minded, yet I, even so, will make war, and will never abandon the post in which I was set by my country. And the tenth legion will suffice me; for I know well that, even if it be necessary to go through fire and
46.4. naked, they will go readily. But the rest do you lead off as quickly as possible, and do not waste yourselves here in vain, both spending the public funds at random and laying claim to the toils of others and appropriating the booty won by others."
47.1. When Caesar had said this, not only did no one oppose, even if some were very much of the contrary opinion, but all assented, and not least those who were suspected by him of spreading abroad what they heard. And the soldiers they persuaded without difficulty to obey, some being eager from having been preferred, the rest
47.2. ambitious on their account. And he made the tenth legion his chosen one, because it always somehow had goodwill toward him. So the citizen-legions were named according to the order of the levies; whence even now likewise those now existing have their appellations.
47.3. When they had set out, then, Caesar no longer remained where he was, lest by delay they should again become more sluggish, but at once arose and marched against Ariovistus. And he so dismayed him by the suddenness of his approach that he constrained him to come to a
47.4. parley concerning peace. They did not, however, come to terms; for Caesar wished to command everything and Ariovistus to obey nothing. So the war broke out, and not only both of them themselves, but all their allies and the enemies in that quarter were in suspense, thinking both that their battle would be very soon and that the rest would be enslaved to those who once
47.5. prevailed. The barbarians had the advantage in numbers and in size, the Romans in experience and in armour; and somehow against the passion of the Celts and their undisciplined and headlong onset Caesar's spirit was found a counterpoise, so that, being from these things evenly matched, they made their hopes and the zeal founded on them likewise of equal weight.
48.1. While they lay encamped opposite one another, the women of the barbarians, prophesying, forbade them to join any battle before the new moon.
48.2. And on this account Ariovistus (for he paid great heed to them whenever they did any such thing) did not at once join battle with his whole force, although the Romans challenged them, but sending out only the cavalry with the foot drawn up among them, he grievously harassed them. And from this, in his contempt, he attempted to seize a certain position above their
48.3. entrenchment. And he held it; but when they too seized another opposite, he did not, although Caesar drew up his army outside until midday, set on to battle, but when Caesar withdrew toward evening, fell upon them suddenly and within a little
48.4. took their rampart. So when his affairs prospered thus, he took yet a little less heed of the women, and on the next day, when the Romans drew up, as they did every day, he led out against them.
49.1. And they, seeing the Romans advancing from their tents, did not keep quiet, but rushing out neither allowed them to draw up accurately, and with a run and a shout fell upon them and cut short their javelin-throwing, on which they especially relied,
49.2. and so came to close quarters with them that they could use neither their pikes nor their longer swords. They pushed, then, and fought more with their bodies than with their weapons, striving both to overthrow him who pressed upon them and to throw down him who
49.3. resisted. And many, deprived even of the use of their shorter swords, fought with their hands and their teeth instead of those, dragging down their opponents, biting, tearing, inasmuch as they far
49.4. surpassed them in the size of their bodies. Yet they did them no great harm by this; for the Romans, grappling with them, became somehow evenly matched through their armour and their skill. And at last, having used this kind of battle for a very long time, they late prevailed; for their short swords, being smaller than the Gallic ones and having steel
49.5. points, proved most useful to them, and they themselves, being held longer at the same toil, held out better than the barbarians, inasmuch as the latter had not endurance to match the keenness of their onsets. For these reasons, then, those men were defeated, yet were not routed — not because they were unwilling, but because they were unable to flee, through perplexity and at the same time through
49.6. exhaustion. Gathering, then, in companies of three hundred and more and fewer, they put forward their shields on every side, and standing upright became unapproachable through their close array, but hard to move through their density, and neither did nor suffered anything.
50.1. The Romans, then, since those men neither advanced against them nor fled, but remained in the same place and stood as if in towers, both straightway at the first laid aside their javelins, as having no
50.2. use, and could not with their swords either fight at close quarters or reach their heads, by which alone they were vulnerable, since they were fighting with these bare; so they threw down their shields, and falling upon them, some by a run and some from close at hand, leaped in a manner upon them
50.3. and cut them down. And from this many fell at once, as being under a single blow, and many died even before falling; for by reason of the density of their formation even the
50.4. dead were held upright. So the greater part of the foot perished thus, both there and at the wagons — all, that is, who happened to have been thrust back to them — together with their women and their children; but Ariovistus, with his cavalry . . . at once abandoned the country, and, setting out toward the Rhine, was
50.5. pursued, yet not overtaken. He himself, indeed, escaped beforehand in a boat, but of the rest the Romans, entering the river, killed some, and others he himself took up and carried off.