Book 9

arg. The following are contained in the forty-fourth book of Dio's Roman History: 1. Concerning what was voted to Caesar. 2. Concerning the conspiracy that was formed against him. 3. How Caesar was slain. 4. How a decree was passed that they should bear no grudge against one another. 5. Concerning the burial of Caesar and the speech delivered over him. Span of time: a portion of the fifth dictatorship of Julius Caesar, with Aemilius Lepidus as master of the horse, and of his fifth consulship, with Marcus Antonius.

1.1. Caesar, then, was doing these things thus, as one who would also make an expedition against the Parthians; but a guilty frenzy fell upon certain men, through envy of his eminence and hatred of his having been preferred above them, and unlawfully killed him, gaining a new name of unholy renown, and scattered the things that had been voted,

1.2. and out of concord prepared again seditions and civil wars for the Romans; for they said that they had become destroyers of Caesar and liberators of the people, but in truth they impiously plotted against him and threw into sedition the city that was now being

2.1. rightly governed. For democracy has a fair-sounding name and seems to bring a certain equality of share to all through equality before the law, but in its deeds it is shown to agree in nothing with its appellation; and on the contrary monarchy is harsh to hear but most serviceable to live under. For it is easier to find one good man than many;

2.2. and even if this seem hard to some, it is altogether necessary to admit that the other is impossible; for it does not belong to the many to acquire virtue. And even if some base man should rule alone, yet he is preferable to a multitude of like men, as indeed the deeds both of the Greeks and of the barbarians, and of the Romans themselves,

2.3. testify. For the better things, far greater and more numerous, both for cities and for individuals, have ever come from kings than from peoples, and the more grievous things befall under monarchies than under mob-rule. For even if anywhere some democracy flourished, yet it was in its prime only for a short time, so long as they had neither magnitude nor strength enough for either insolence to be born of prosperity or envies of ambition.

2.4. But for a city both so great and ruling the fairest and greatest part of the visible world, possessing many and diverse characters of men and many great riches, employing actions and fortunes of every kind both privately and publicly—it is impossible in a democracy to be temperate, and yet more impossible, not being temperate, to be in concord.

2.5. So that, if indeed Brutus Marcus and Cassius Gaius had reckoned these things thus, they would never have killed the champion and guardian of it, nor would they have become the cause of ten thousand evils both to themselves and to the other men of that time.

3.1. It came about thus, and his death took this cause; for not altogether without cause did he acquire the envy against him, except in so far as the senators themselves, having both exalted and puffed him up by the novelties and the excesses of the honours, then over those very things both blamed and slandered him, as though he received them gladly and lived

3.2. more haughtily on account of them. There are times, indeed, when Caesar too erred, accepting some of the things voted to him and believing himself truly worthy of them; but most of all those men, who, having begun to honour him as worthy, led him on

3.3. into the blame for what they voted. For he neither dared to thrust all of them away, lest he be thought to despise them, nor again, accepting them, could he be safe; for the excess of honours and praises makes somehow more vain even the very temperate, especially if they seem to come about truly.

4.1. The things given to him after those that have been mentioned were these and of this kind; for one by one, even if they were not all introduced and ratified at once,

4.2. they shall be told. First, they voted that he should always ride, even in the city itself, clad in the triumphal robe, and sit upon the curule chair everywhere except at the festivals; for then he received the right to view them from the tribunician bench and with the tribunes of the year.

4.3. And they granted him to dedicate certain spoils of honour in the temple of Jupiter Feretrius, as though he had with his own hand slain some hostile general, and always to use lictors bearing laurel, and after the Latin festival to ride into the city on horseback from the Alban

4.4. Mount. And besides these things, such as they were, they named him father of his country and engraved it on the coins, and voted to sacrifice publicly on his birthday, and ordered that there be some statue of him in the cities and in all the temples in

4.5. Rome, and upon the rostra two, the one as of one who had saved the citizens, the other as of one who had delivered the city from a siege, with the crowns customary in such cases. And they resolved to build a temple of a new Concord, on the ground that through him they were at peace, and to hold an annual festival

5.1. to her. When he accepted these things, they ordered him to fill in the Pomptine marshes and to dig through the isthmus of the Peloponnese and to build a new senate-house, since the Hostilian one, although rebuilt, had been demolished,

5.2. on the pretext that a temple of Felicity was being built there, which Lepidus too, while master of the horse, completed, but in deed in order that in it the name of Sulla might not be preserved and that another, newly constructed, might be named Julian, just as they called both the month in which he had been born July and one of the tribes, the one to which the lot fell,

5.3. Julian. And they voted that he be censor, both alone and for life, and enjoy the things given to the tribunes, in order that, if anyone should insult him either in deed or in word, he might be sacred and held in the curse; and that his son, if he should beget any or even adopt one, be appointed high priest.

6.1. When he rejoiced in these things too, a gilded chair, and a robe such as the kings had once used, and a guard from the knights and from the senators were given him; and moreover they resolved both to pray for him publicly each year, and to swear by his fortune, and to hold valid all that should be done by him.

6.2. And from this they dedicated a quinquennial festival to him as to a hero, and sacred officials for the naked games of Pan, a third brotherhood which they named Julian, and in the gladiatorial combats one fixed day always both in Rome

6.3. and in the rest of Italy. And since he was pleased with these things too, then indeed they voted that his gilded chair and his crown set with gems and gold, equal to those of the gods, be carried into the theatres, and that his car be brought in at the horse-races.

6.4. And at last they styled him outright Jupiter Julius, and resolved that a temple be consecrated to him and to his Clemency, choosing Antonius as their priest of him, like a kind of priest of Jupiter.

7.1. And what most of all revealed their intention: at the same time as they voted these things they granted him to make a tomb for himself within the pomerium; and the decrees made about these matters they inscribed on silver tablets in letters of gold, and placed them beneath the feet of the Capitoline Jupiter, showing him quite clearly that he was a man.

7.2. For they had begun to honour him on the supposition that he would be moderate; but, as they went on, since they saw him rejoicing in what was voted (for save a few things he accepted them all), they ever brought in one something greater than another by way of excess, some flattering him beyond measure, some

7.3. mocking. Indeed, some even dared to grant him to consort with whatever women he wished, because he consorted with many even then, although he was fifty years old. But others, and the greater number, did this from a wish to lead him on as quickly as possible into envy and resentment, in order that

7.4. he might the sooner be destroyed. Which indeed happened, although Caesar, on account of these very things, took courage, as though those men, voting such things, would never plot against him, nor any other on their account; and from this he no longer even used bodyguards; for, accepting in word the being guarded by the senators and the knights, he abolished besides the former guard.

8.1. For when once on one day they had voted him the more and the greater of these things (for save Cassius and certain others, who became notorious for this, yet suffered nothing—from which especially his clemency shone forth, since it was resolved unanimously by the rest), they came to him as he sat in the fore-temple of the temple of Aphrodite, to announce all together what had been resolved by them

8.2. (for in his absence they transacted such matters, that they might not seem to do them under compulsion but voluntarily), he received them sitting—whether through some divine infatuation or through excessive joy—and from this cast into all such anger, not only into the senators but also into the rest, that he furnished, among the chief, a pretext for the conspiracy to those who killed

8.3. him. For certain men, in his defence afterward, said that he had become incontinent of his bowels through a flux, and on this account, lest he be incontinent, he remained seated; yet they could not persuade the many, because not long after, having risen, he was conveyed home on his own feet,

8.4. but they suspected him of overweening pride, and indeed hated him as arrogant, whom they themselves by the excesses of the honours had made overweening. And this being of such a nature, he increased the suspicion besides because, having been appointed dictator for life after this, he submitted to it.

9.1. While he was in this state, then, those plotting against him no longer acted with any hesitation, but, in order that he might come into hatred even with his very friends, they did other things to slander him, and at last hailed him as king, and much bandied about this name even among

9.2. themselves. And since he both rejected it and in a way rebuked those who so addressed him, yet did nothing through which he might be truly believed to be vexed at the title, they secretly bound with a diadem his image that stood upon the rostra.

9.3. And when Gaius Epidius Marullus and Lucius Caesetius Flavus, tribunes, took it down, he was strongly angered, although they had said nothing insolent of them, and moreover had praised him before the multitude as needing no such thing. And then, although vexed, he kept quiet;

10.1. but when, after this, as he was riding in from the Alban Mount, certain men again named him king, and he himself said that he was called not king but Caesar, and those tribunes brought a suit against the one who had first so styled him, he no longer restrained his anger, but, as though set at odds even by those very men, was exceedingly indignant.

10.2. And for the present he did them no harm; but afterward, when they posted a proclamation that they had neither free nor safe frankness on behalf of the common good, he became furious, and, leading them into the senate-house, made an accusation against them and brought a vote.

10.3. And he did not kill them, although some assessed this penalty against them, but, first removing them from the tribunate through Helvius Cinna their colleague, he erased them from the senate. And they rejoiced at this, or pretended to, on the ground that they would have no necessity of being endangered by speaking freely, and, being outside affairs, would behold what was happening as from a

10.4. watchtower; but Caesar was slandered for this too, because, when he ought to have hated those who added to him the name of king, he instead, letting those go, charged the tribunes in their stead.

11.1. These things, then, having so come about, another such matter, occurring not long after, proved still more that in word he repelled the appellation,

11.2. but in deed desired to take it. For when, at the naked festival of the Lycaea, he came into the Forum and sat upon the rostra, adorned with the royal dress and resplendent with the gold-spangled crown, upon the gilded chair, and Antonius, with his fellow-priests, hailed him as king and bound him with a diadem, saying, "This the

11.3. people through me gives you," he answered that "Jupiter alone was king of the Romans," and sent the diadem to him to the Capitol, yet was not angered, but even had it inscribed in the records that the kingship offered to him by the people through the consul he had not accepted. He was suspected, then, of having done it by some prearrangement, and of desiring the name but wishing somehow to be forced to take it,

11.4. and he was terribly hated. And from this certain men put forward those tribunes as consuls at the elections, and approaching both Brutus Marcus and the other spirited men privately, sought to persuade them, and publicly provoked them besides.

12.1. For abusing his identity of name with the famous Brutus who overthrew the Tarquins, they set forth many writings, falsely giving out that he was a descendant of that man; for he had killed both his sons, the only ones born to him, while they were still youths, and

12.2. had left no descendant. Nonetheless the many, in order that, as being connected with him by family, he might be led on to like deeds, pretended this, and continually called upon him, crying out, "O Brutus, Brutus," and adding, "We need a

12.3. Brutus." And at last they inscribed on the image of the old Brutus, "Would that you lived," and on his own tribunal (for he was praetor, and that is called a tribunal upon which one sits and judges), "You sleep, O Brutus," and "You are not Brutus."

13.1. These things, then, persuaded him—especially as he had from the beginning made war on Caesar—to set upon him, although he had afterward become his benefactor, and because he was both nephew and son-in-law of Cato called Uticensis, as I have said. And his wife Porcia alone of women

13.2. knew of the conspiracy, as they say. For, standing over him as he was pondering something about these very matters, she inquired what made him thoughtful, and when he answered nothing, she suspected that she was distrusted on account of the weakness of her body, lest even unwillingly she should reveal something under tortures, and ventured a great deed.

13.3. For she secretly wounded her own thigh, to test whether she could hold out against torments; and when she felt no excessive pain, she made light of the wound, and, coming to him, said, "You, husband, although trusting my soul that it would reveal nothing, yet distrusted my body, and suffered something human; but I

13.4. have found that this too can be silent." Having said this, she showed him her thigh, and, revealing the cause of what had happened, said, "Speak, then, confidently all that you are hiding; for neither fire, nor scourges, nor goads will compel me to reveal anything; I was not born so much a woman. So that, if you distrust me still, it is better for me to die than to live; or let no one any longer reckon me either Cato's daughter or your wife."

14.1. Hearing this, Brutus marvelled, and no longer concealed anything from her, but both himself was the more strengthened and

14.2. related everything to her. And after this he took on Cassius Gaius, who likewise had been saved by Caesar and moreover honoured with a praetorship, and was the husband of his sister. And from this they gathered the others too who wished the same

14.3. things as they. And they became not few; but the names of the others I have no need to recount, lest I become tiresome, but Trebonius and Brutus Decimus, whom they also called Junius Albinus, I cannot

14.4. pass over. For these too, having been much benefited by Caesar—and Decimus had even been appointed consul for the second year and assigned the neighbouring Gaul—plotted against him.

15.1. And they were nearly detected, both through the multitude of those privy to it—although Caesar neither admitted any report of any such thing and very strongly punished those who announced anything of the sort—and through their

15.2. delaying. For, having even so respect for him, and fearing, although he used no longer any guard, lest they be destroyed by the others who were always about him, they kept putting it off, so that they were even in danger of being convicted and

15.3. destroyed. And they would have suffered this, had they not been compelled, even against their will, to hasten the plot. For a certain report, whether true or false, as is wont to be made up, having gone round, that the priests called the Fifteen were spreading abroad that the Sibyl had said the Parthians would never otherwise

15.4. be taken than by a king, and that on this account they were about to propose that this appellation be given to Caesar—both believing this to be true, and that the vote would be put even to the magistrates, of whom Brutus and Cassius were two, as being indeed about so great a measure, and neither daring to oppose nor enduring to keep silent, they hastened the plot before anything whatever should be transacted about it.

16.1. They had resolved to make the attempt in the senate-house. For Caesar, least of all suspecting that he would suffer anything there, would be the more easily taken; and a safe supply of swords would be at hand for them, conveyed in in caskets in place of certain documents; and the others, being unarmed,

16.2. they expected, would not be able to defend him; but if anyone should dare anywhere, they hoped the gladiators, whom they had prepared beforehand in great numbers in Pompey's theatre, on the pretext that they would fight in armour, would come to their aid; for there, in a certain room of the colonnade, they were to sit in session. And they, when the appointed day came, assembled in the senate-house at dawn and summoned

17.1. Caesar; but to him both seers foretold the conspiracy, and dreams foretold it. For on the night on which he was slain his wife dreamed that their house had fallen in and that her husband had been wounded by certain men and had fled into her bosom, and that Caesar was raised aloft upon the clouds and was touching

17.2. the hand of Jupiter. And besides, signs neither few nor weak occurred for him; for the arms of Mars, lying then with him, as with a high priest by some ancestral custom, made a great noise in the night, and the doors of the chamber in which he slept opened of themselves.

17.3. And the sacrifices he made over them showed nothing auspicious, and the birds by which he took omens did not permit him to go out of the house. And to some, after his murder, there came also the thought of the gilded chair, that the attendant, when Caesar delayed, carried it out of the senate-house, thinking that there would be no further need of it.

18.1. When Caesar delayed on account of these things, the conspirators, fearing lest, a postponement occurring (for a rumour had gone round that he would remain at home that day), the plot fall through for them and they themselves be detected, sent Brutus Decimus, in order that, since he seemed to be very friendly with him, he might cause

18.2. him to come. And he, making light of the things put forward by him, and saying that the senate strongly desired to see him, persuaded him to come forth. And meanwhile a certain image of him, which he had set up in his vestibule, fell down of itself and

18.3. was shattered. But since he was fated then to change his life, he took no thought either of this nor heard anyone revealing to him the conspiracy. And taking from him a small book, in which everything prepared for the attack was accurately written, he did not read it, thinking that it contained something else, of things not

18.4. pressing. And on the whole he was so confident that even to the seer who had once foretold him to beware that day, he said in mockery, "Where, then, are your prophecies? Or do you not see that the day you feared is present, and I am alive?" And that man, they say, answered only this much, that "Yes, it is present, but it has not yet passed."

19.1. When at last he came to the senate, Trebonius kept Antonius occupied somewhere outside. For they had resolved to kill both him and

19.2. Lepidus; but, fearing lest, from the multitude of those destroyed, they be slandered as having killed Caesar for the sake of dominion and not for the liberation of the city, which they put forward, they did not even wish Antonius to be present at his murder; since Lepidus had gone out on campaign and was in the

19.3. suburb. With him, then, Trebonius conversed; but the others meanwhile, surrounding Caesar in a body (for he was easy of approach and most affable), some told him stories, others pretended to supplicate him, in order that he might suspect nothing at all.

19.4. And when the moment came, one of them approached him as though acknowledging some favour, and pulled his toga down from his shoulder, raising this as a signal to the conspirators according to the arrangement; and from this they, falling upon him

19.5. from many sides at once, wounded him, so that by their multitude Caesar could neither say nor do anything, but, covering himself, was slain with many wounds. This is the truest account; but some have said this too, that to Brutus, who struck a strong blow, he said, "And you, child?"

20.1. When much tumult arose from the rest, both those within and those standing outside, at the suddenness of the calamity, and because they did not know either the slayers or their number or their intention, all were thrown into confusion, as though they too would be in danger,

20.2. and themselves set out in flight wherever each could, and dismayed those who fell in with them, saying nothing clear, but only crying these very words, "Flee, shut the doors,

20.3. shut them." And the rest, taking these words from one another, each cried them abroad, and filled the city with lamentations, and themselves, rushing into the workshops and the houses, hid, although the slayers had set out for the Forum just as they were, and by their gestures showed and cried out besides that they should not fear.

20.4. For they said this and at the same time continually called upon Cicero; but the crowd neither otherwise believed them to be speaking the truth nor was easily settled; and late at last, and with difficulty, since no one was being killed or arrested, taking courage

21.1. they kept quiet. And when they had assembled into an assembly, the slayers said much against Caesar and much on behalf of democracy, and bade them take courage and expect nothing dreadful; for they said they had killed him neither for dominion nor for any other greed, but in order that, being free and autonomous, they might be rightly governed.

21.2. Saying some such things, they settled the many, and especially because they wronged no one; but they themselves, fearing even so lest someone should plot against them in turn, went up to the Capitol as though to pray to the gods, and there spent the day and

21.3. the night. And certain others too of the foremost joined them from evening, who had not shared in the conspiracy, but, of the reputation arising from it, since they saw them being praised, and of the rewards which

21.4. they expected, wished to claim a share. And it befell them most justly that the matter turned out for them to the contrary; for they neither gained the name of the deed, since they had no part in it, and of the danger that befell those who did it they had a share, as having conspired with them.

22.1. Seeing these things, Dolabella too did not think fit to keep quiet, but entered upon the consular office, although it did not yet belong to him, and, having made some speech to the people about the present matters, went up to the

22.2. Capitol. While these men were there, Lepidus, learning what had happened, seized the Forum with his soldiers by night, and at dawn made a speech against the slayers. Antonius, then, although immediately after Caesar's death he had fled and thrown off the magisterial dress, that he might escape notice, and had hidden by

22.3. night, yet, when he perceived that the slayers were in the Capitol and Lepidus in the Forum, gathered the senate into the precinct of Tellus and brought forward proposals about the present matters. And others said various things, as each of them thought, and Cicero the following, by which indeed they were persuaded:

23.1. "I, for my part, think that no one ought ever to say anything either to please or to contend, but to declare what each thinks

23.2. best. For it is dreadful if we shall require the praetors and the consuls to do everything from an upright mind, and, if they somehow fail, demand an accounting from them even for fortune, but in deliberating, in which we are most fully masters of our own judgement, abandon the common interests for the sake of private greed.

23.3. For these reasons, then, Fathers, I always think we ought to counsel you in everything simply and justly, but most of all in the present affairs, in which, if, meddling in nothing, we are in concord, we shall both be saved ourselves and

23.4. preserve all the rest, but if we should wish to examine everything precisely, I fear lest we fare ill—though I wish to say nothing harsh at the beginning of my

24.1. speech. For formerly, and for no short time, those who held the arms also for the most part became masters of the commonwealth, so that they enjoined upon you what you should deliberate, and you did not consider beforehand what those men should do;

24.2. but now affairs have come, so to say, to such a point of opportunity that they depend upon you and rest with you, and from you we shall receive either concord and with it freedom, or seditions and civil wars again and from them a master.

24.3. For whatever you vote today, all the rest too will follow. These things, then, being so, as I at least persuade myself, I say that we ought to dissolve our enmities or rivalries with one another, or however one names them, and return to that ancient peace and

24.4. friendship and concord, considering at least this, if nothing else, that so long as we were governed in that way, we acquired lands and riches and reputation and allies, but from the time we were led on to evils against one another, we became not only no better but far worse.

24.5. And I am so far from thinking that anything else could in the present save the city, that, unless we deliberate something today, and at once and as quickly as possible, we shall not even be able to recover ourselves.

25.1. Consider how truly I speak, looking to the present and reckoning up the ancient things. Do you not see what is happening, and that the people is being divided and torn apart again, and, some preferring these things and some those, are now both parted in two

25.2. and encamped in two, and some have seized the Capitol beforehand as though fearing certain Gauls, and others from the Forum are preparing to besiege them as though they were certain Carthaginians and not themselves Romans

25.3. too? Do you not hear that formerly too, when certain men often differed, so that some of them seized at one time the Aventine and the Capitol, and some even the Sacred Mount—as often as they were reconciled on equal terms, or with the one side conceding a little to the other, both at once ceased hating

25.4. one another, and passed the rest of the time in peace and concord so as to accomplish in common many great wars; but as often as they proceeded to murders and slaughters, some under the plea of defending themselves against those who began, and some, deceived by the rivalry of seeming to be bested in nothing,

25.5. nothing good ever came of it? For why need I waste time naming Valerius, Horatius, Saturninus, Glaucia, the Gracchi, to you who know it no less well? Having such examples, then, and these not foreign but

25.6. your own, do not delay to emulate the one and guard against the other, but, as having from the very facts a foretaste of the outcome of what you are deliberating, no longer scan my words as though they were mere phrases, but behold the things expedient for the commonwealth as already in deed.

25.7. For you will not, by some obscure reflection, cast at hazard the uncertain part of hope, but, with sure faith, take forethought for the security of your reckoning.

26.1. It belongs to you, then, as I said, having received it from home and from your ancestors, to deliberate rightly; and on this account I did not even wish to use foreign examples, though I could name ten thousand. One, however, from the best and most ancient city, from which not even our fathers thought it unworthy to import certain laws, I will furnish;

26.2. for it would be shameful that we, surpassing the Athenians so much both in strength and in judgement, should deliberate worse than they. They, then (I say what you all know), having once fallen into sedition, and from this both been defeated by the Lacedaemonians and tyrannized by their more powerful

26.3. citizens, were not freed from their evils before they agreed and covenanted both to forget what had befallen them, many and dreadful as it was, and to make no charge at all on their account ever, nor bear any grudge

26.4. against anyone. Accordingly, having so come to their senses, not only did they cease being tyrannized and being in sedition, but they also prospered in all other respects, and recovered their city, and contended for the rule of the Greeks, and at last became masters both to save and to destroy both the Lacedaemonians themselves and

26.5. the Thebans many times. And yet, if those who had seized Phyle and come back from the Piraeus had wished to take vengeance on those from the city for the wrongs done them, they would have seemed to do a reasonable thing, but they would have both done and suffered many evils.

26.6. For just as, beyond expectation, they became stronger than they, so perhaps they might again in turn have been worsted.

27.1. For in such matters there is nothing secure, nor, from the strength one has, toward mastery, but very many, taking courage, have stumbled, and very many, seeking to take vengeance on someone, have perished besides.

27.2. For neither is the one who is at a disadvantage in something altogether fortunate, because he is also being wronged, nor does the one superior in power altogether succeed, because he is also pre-eminent, but both, on equal terms, being subject both to the unreason of the human and to the instability of fortune, and the scale often inclines not toward one's own good hope but toward the other's

27.3. unexpected fortune. Whence, from these things and from rivalry (for a dreadful thing is a man wronged, or thinking himself wronged, growing bold beyond his strength), many often are even, against their strength, roused to risk all, as though they would either prevail or

27.4. at any rate perish not bloodlessly; and thus, conquering here and being conquered there, and now mastering others, now being worsted, some are utterly destroyed together, and others win the so-called Cadmean victory, and in time, when there is no more profit, perceive that they deliberated ill.

28.1. And that these things are so, you too have learned in deed. Consider: Marius was strong for some time in the factional struggles; then, being expelled and gathering a force, you know what he wrought. Likewise Sulla—not to recount Cinna or Strabo or the others between—having power at first, then worsted, then in dominion, did everything of the most dreadful. For why need I name the second Marius, or that very Cinna, or Carbo?

28.2. After these, Lepidus raised a sedition of his own, on the pretext of avenging these very men, and threw almost all Italy into disorder. And when at last we were rid of him too, remember how many and what things we suffered again from Sertorius and from the others who fled

28.3. with him. And what of Pompey, what of this very Caesar?—not to mention here either Catiline or Clodius. Did they not first make war on one another, and these too being kinsmen, and then fill with ten thousand evils not only our city or the rest of Italy, but, so to say, the whole inhabited

28.4. world? Was there, then, after Pompey's death and that great destruction of the citizens, any quiet? Whence? Far from it. Africa knows, Spain knows the multitude of those who perished on both sides.

28.5. What then? Were we at peace at least over these things? And how? When Caesar himself lies thus slain, and the Capitol is held, and the Forum is filled with arms, and the whole city

29.1. is filled with fear. So, when certain men begin to be in sedition, and seek ever to ward off violence with violence, and make their punishments not according to fairness nor to humanity but to their desire and the authority of arms, a certain cycle of evils ever arises of necessity, and a requital of dreadful things follows in succession.

29.2. For that which has prospered overflows with insolence and sets no limit to its greed, and that which has stumbled, in its anger at its misfortune, if it does not perish at once, desires to take vengeance on the wrongdoer until it has satisfied its rage.

29.3. And the rest of the multitude too, even if it shares not in affairs, yet at that time, both from pity of the conquered and envy of the conqueror, fearing lest it suffer the same as the one and hoping to do the same as the other,

29.4. joins in. And thus even the middle citizens are led on to sedition, and one after another succeed to the evil, under pretext of avenging those who are ever worsted, as though it were some lawful and recurring matter, taking vengeance in turn, and each of them gets off as best he can, but the commonwealth they ruin in every

30.1. way. Or do you not see how long a time we have worn ourselves out making war on one another, and how many and what things we have suffered in it, and—what is yet more dreadful than this—done?

30.2. And who could number the multitude of moneys which, stripping the allies and plundering the gods, and moreover contributing ourselves from what we did not have, we have spent upon one another?

30.3. Who the multitude of men who have perished—not to speak of the rest, since that is past finding out, but even of the knights and the senators, each one of whom could in foreign wars have saved the whole city, both living

30.4. and dying? For how many Curtii, how many Decii, Fabii, Gracchi, Marcelli, Scipiones have died—not, by Zeus, that they might ward off Samnites or Latins or Spaniards or Carthaginians, but that . . . they too might perish besides.

30.5. And of those who have died under arms, even if one would most of all bewail them too, yet it is less worthy to lament; for they came to the battles willingly—if indeed one ought to call willing those compelled by fear—and endured a death that, even if unjust, was at least manly, and in an even contest and in hope of perhaps surviving

30.6. and prevailing they fell insensibly. But those slain violently in the houses and in the streets and in the Forum and in the senate-house itself and on the Capitol itself—not only men but women, not only those in their prime but old men and children—pitiably destroyed, how could one bewail worthily?

30.7. And these things, moreover, such and so great as we never suffered at the hands of all our enemies at once, nor did to them—treating one another so, we are not only not grieved, nor wish ever to be manfully rid of them, but even rejoice and keep festival and name those who do them

30.8. benefactors; and yet I, for my part, hold that we have lived not even a human life, but that of certain wild beasts, which destroy one another.

31.1. And the things that have already happened, why should we bewail at greater length? For we could not make them un-happened; but let us take forethought for the things to come;

31.2. for on this account I mentioned those things, not in order to recount the common misfortunes, which ought never to have happened, but in order that from them I might persuade you at least to save what remains; for this alone one might gain from evils, to guard against suffering again anything like

31.3. them. And you can do this most of all in the present, while the trouble is still beginning and neither have many yet combined, nor have those who are stirred either gained advantage over one another or been worsted, so as, either through hope of the stronger or anger of the weaker, even against their interest to be led on heedlessly to risk all.

31.4. And this, great as it is, you will accomplish without toiling at any labour or being endangered, without spending money, without making slaughters, but by voting this one thing alone,

32.1. that you bear no grudge against one another. For even if some wrongs have been done by some, yet it is no time either to meddle in them or to convict or to punish. For you are not judging anyone in the present, so that the most precise justice need be sought, but you are deliberating about present circumstances,

32.2. how they may most safely be settled. And this would not be possible for us, unless we overlook something, as indeed we are wont to do in the case of children. For we do not reckon up everything precisely in their case, and we necessarily overlook much; for over moderate faults one ought to punish no one

32.3. incurably, but to correct gently. And now, then, since we are not only named but truly are the common fathers of all the people, let us not be precise in everything, lest we all perish; since indeed one might charge many things against Caesar himself, so that he might seem even to have been justly

32.4. slain, and many things too against those who killed him, so that they might be thought worthy even of punishment. But this is the act of men desiring to be in sedition again; whereas those who deliberate rightly ought not, in making the wholly just precise, to be harmed, but, using

32.5. fairness besides, to be saved. So, then, reckoning that these things which have happened have come about after the manner of some hailstorm or flood, consign them to oblivion; and, recognizing now at least one another, as being of the same race and citizens and kinsmen, be in concord.

33.1. And, that none of you may suspect that I wish to do some favour to those who killed Caesar, that they may not pay the penalty, because I was once in

33.2. Pompey's party, I will say one thing to you. For indeed I think you are all clearly persuaded that I have never taken up either friendship or enmity toward anyone for my own sake, but have always, for the sake of you and of the common freedom and concord, hated some and loved others. For this reason, then, I will let the rest go, and tell you only a little.

33.3. So far am I from doing this and not taking forethought for the common safety, that I say one ought to give to the other side not only immunity for all the things they did, prevailing under Caesar outside the established order, but even to preserve the honours and the offices and the gifts, as many as they received from him, although I am not pleased with some of them.

33.4. For to do or even to propose any such thing still I would not counsel you; but since it has happened, I think you ought not to meddle in those things either. For what so great loss would you suffer if so-and-so or so-and-so should keep something he received outside justice and beyond his desert, as great as the benefit you would gain by furnishing neither fear nor disorder to those who then had the power?

33.5. These things I say for the present, toward the pressing matter; but when affairs are settled, then let us consider also about the rest."

34.1. Cicero, having said such things, persuaded the senate to vote that no one bear a grudge against anyone; but while this was going on, the slayers too promised the soldiers that they would annul none of the things done by

34.2. Caesar. For since they perceived that they were terribly indignant lest they be deprived of the things given them by him, they hastened, before the senate should decide anything whatever, to forestall them, and from this, calling those of them who were present below within hearing, conversed with them

34.3. about what was fitting, and, sending down letters to the Forum, announced that no one would take anything from anyone or otherwise distress them, and that they confirmed the validity of all that had been done by Caesar; and they urged them to concord, pledging by the greatest oaths that they would assuredly

34.4. be true in all things. When, then, what the senate had resolved was announced, neither did the soldiers any longer attend to Lepidus nor did they have any fear of him, but, Antonius most of all urging them on, hastened to a reconciliation even against his

34.5. intention. For Lepidus, making the avenging of Caesar his pretext, desired a revolution, and, as one who had armies, expected both to succeed to his dominion and to come into power, and on this account he

34.6. stirred up war; but Antonius, seeing that his designs were such, and being himself invested with no strength, neither dared then to make any revolution, and persuaded Lepidus besides to be worsted of the greater part, lest he become too great. They agreed, then, on the terms that had been voted, yet those in the Capitol did not come down before they had taken the son of Lepidus and the son of Antonius as hostages. And Brutus went to

34.7. Lepidus (for he was connected with him by family), and Cassius to Antonius, for security . . . And while they dined together, among many other things, as was natural on such an occasion, Antonius asked Cassius, "Have you even now a little sword under your arm?" And he said, "Yes, a great one, if you too should desire to play the tyrant."

35.1. At that time, then, these things were done thus, and nothing dreadful either occurred or was expected, but the many rejoiced at being rid of Caesar's dominion (and some even thought of casting out his body unburied), and those men were of good cheer, neither meddling further in anything and being named both liberators

35.2. and tyrant-slayers. But when his will was afterward read, and the people learned that he had made Octavius his son, and had left Antonius and Decimus and certain others of the slayers as his guardians and heirs of his property, in case it should not come to that man,

35.3. and moreover had ordered that certain gifts be given to others and to the city the gardens by the Tiber and to each of them, as Octavius himself writes, thirty drachmas, but as others say, seventy-five, they were thrown into disorder.

35.4. And Antonius further provoked them, conveying the corpse most senselessly into the Forum, and setting it forth bloodied, just as it was, and displaying its wounds, and saying over it a speech, otherwise most beautiful and brilliant, yet not expedient for those then present. For he spoke as follows:

36.1. "If this man had died as a private citizen, and I chanced to be a private citizen, I should neither have needed many words, Quirites, nor have gone through all that was done by him, but, saying a few things about his birth and his education and his character, and somehow mentioning the things he did in public on the commonwealth's behalf, I should have been content, lest I become tiresome to those not connected with him.

36.2. But since this man, holding the greatest leadership among you, has perished, and I, holding the second, have taken office, my speech must of necessity be twofold—the one as one named heir, the other as a magistrate—and I must omit none of the things that ought to be said, but say all that the whole people, if it could have got a single voice,

36.3. would have hymned. For I well know this, that it is difficult to hit your intention. For otherwise it is not easy to attain to things so great; for what speech could be made equal to great deeds? And you, having insatiable wishes, as you are aware, will not be easy

36.4. judges of them. For if the speech were made among men who did not know, it would be very easy, by striking them with the magnitude of the deeds, to persuade them; but now, by reason of familiarity, all that shall be said must of necessity be reckoned less than what was done.

36.5. For strangers, even if they distrust the speakers through envy, yet by that very man hold all that is heard sufficient; but your part becomes of necessity insatiable through goodwill. For you, having yourselves enjoyed most of Caesar's virtues, demand the praise of them not enviously, as though it concerned you not, but kindly,

36.6. as your own. I shall strive, then, to fulfil your wishes as far as possible, well knowing that you will not examine my power of speech and my purpose, but from my zeal will make up what falls short of it.

37.1. I will speak first about his birth—not that it is most splendid; and yet this too bears no small weight toward the nature of virtue, that one becomes good not by chance but by a kindred

37.2. endowment. For those born not of noble stock might indeed play the man even in pretence, but might also at some time be convicted of base birth by their inborn nature; but those who from far back have the seed of manliness must of all necessity have a virtue both self-grown and

37.3. enduring. Yet I, for my part, do not now praise this most of all in Caesar, that in his most recent ancestors he sprang from many noble men, and in his most ancient came of kings and gods, but that, first, he is kinsman of our whole city (for from those of whom he was born, by

37.4. them we were founded), and next, that his forefathers, who were believed to have ascended to the divine through virtue, he not only verified the report of, but even increased it, so that, if anyone formerly disputed that Aeneas could ever have been born of Aphrodite, let him now believe it.

37.5. For some have before now been falsely called children of gods unworthily; but of this man no one would deem the gods unworthy to have been his ancestors. For Aeneas himself reigned, and some of his descendants; but this man was so much better than they in proportion as they were monarchs of Lavinium and

37.6. Alba, but he was unwilling to reign over Rome, and they laid beforehand the foundation of our city, but he raised it so high that, among other things, he founded colonies greater than the cities over which they reigned.

38.1. Such, then, are the matters of his birth; but that he received a nurture and education in keeping with the weight of his nobility, how could anyone better perceive than from those things by which his deeds furnish him necessary

38.2. proof? For he to whom both a most enduring body and a most resourceful soul conspicuously belonged toward all things alike, both peaceful and warlike, how is it not necessary that he too was reared most excellently? And yet it is hard for one who is most beautiful of men to become most enduring,

38.3. hard for one strong in body to turn out most prudent, and altogether hard for the same man to be distinguished both in words and in deeds. This man, however—and I speak among those who know, so as neither to lie at all from the outset, for I should be caught in the very act, nor to magnify toward the greater, for I should establish the opposite of what I wish.

38.4. For both I should most justly be suspected of boasting, if I do any such thing, and I should be thought to make his virtue appear less than the reputation he has among you. For every speech made on such an occasion, even if it takes on the smallest falsehood, not only brings him no praise, but even contains a refutation of itself;

38.5. for the consciousness of the hearers, not agreeing with what is feigned, is borne toward the truth, and perhaps, content with it, learns at once what manner of man he ought to have been, and, comparing the two, detects the deficiency. Speaking truthfully, then, I say this, that this Caesar became at once most capable in body

38.6. and most ready in soul. For he used a marvellous strength of nature, and was accurately trained in education of every kind, and on this account, not unreasonably, he was always able both to perceive everything needful most acutely and to express it most persuasively and to arrange and administer it most prudently, and no sudden turn of opportunity falling upon him forestalled him, nor did any secret delay, lingering,

38.7. escape him. For he both foreknew everything before it was upon him, and was prepared beforehand for everything that could befall anyone; and to find out strongly what was hidden, and to feign ignorance plausibly of what was manifest, and to pretend to know what was concealed and to hide what was

38.8. known, and to fit the occasions to his designs and to render an account of them, and moreover to accomplish and follow through all things severally—this he knew well.

39.1. And the proof: in his private affairs he was at once most thrifty and most liberal, being exact in guarding his property sufficiently, but lavish in spending unsparingly on what was fitting, and he strongly loved all his kinsmen except the most impious;

39.2. for he neither looked down on any of them in misfortune nor envied any in prosperity, but both augmented for these their present possessions and filled up for those what was lacking, giving to some money, to some lands, to some offices,

39.3. to some priesthoods. And indeed toward his friends and the others who associated with him he bore himself marvellously; for he neither despised any of them nor insulted them, but, being affable to all alike, both requited many times over those who rendered him any service and attached the rest by benefactions, and neither envied anyone who was distinguished nor humbled anyone who was rising,

39.4. but, as one who himself through all of them was both magnified and acquired strength and adornment, he rejoiced that very many were set on a level with himself. Being such toward his friends and acquaintances, neither toward his enemies was he cruel nor

39.5. implacable, but he let many of those who had privately offended him go unpunished, and released many of those who had made war on him, and gave some of them even honours and offices. So wholly was he by nature inclined toward virtue, and not only had he no vice himself, but he did not even believe it could exist in any other.

40.1. But since I have come to these matters, I will begin to speak about his public administration. For if he had lived in quiet, perhaps his virtue would have been untested; but now, having been raised to the greatest height, and having become the greatest not only of the men of his own time but of all others who ever had any power, he displayed it more

40.2. conspicuously. For those others almost all this very authority convicted, but this man it revealed the more. For, taking on actions matched to the magnitude of his virtue, he was found their equal, and alone of men, having acquired for himself so great a fortune from manliness, neither dishonoured

40.3. it nor abused it. The things, then, in which otherwise, while campaigning, he was distinguished, or the things in which he showed greatness in the regular public services, I will pass over, although they are so many that they would suffice fully even for another's praise; for, in comparison with the splendour of his later deeds, I shall seem to be petty if I go through those too precisely; but the things he did while ruling you, these alone

40.4. I will tell. And not even these all in detail will I narrate precisely; for I could never attain to them, and I should furnish you a very great tedium, especially as you know them.

41.1. For this man, first holding command in Spain, and finding it festering, did not overlook them becoming unopposed under the name of peace, nor did he choose to pass the time of his command in quiet rather than to do the common good, but, since of their own will they did not repent, he brought even the unwilling to their senses,

41.2. so that he surpassed those who had formerly won renown over them by as much as guarding something is harder than acquiring it, and that to make them subjects of the empire, while their power was still unimpaired, was more profitable than to have it become impossible for any to make a revolution again.

41.3. Therefore you voted him a triumph for this and straightway gave him the consular office. From which especially this was made plain, that neither from desire nor for the sake of his own glory did he make that war and prepare for the rest.

41.4. At any rate, foregoing the celebration of the triumph because affairs were pressing, and acknowledging gratitude to you for the honour, but content with that very thing toward his reputation, he held the consulship.

42.1. And how much he administered in the city during his office it would be ten thousand things to tell; but as soon as he went out of it and was sent to the Gallic war, behold how many and how great things again he accomplished there.

42.2. For to the allies he became not burdensome, but even came to their aid, since he both suspected nothing of them and moreover saw them being wronged; but the enemy—not only those bordering on them but all the rest who inhabited Gaul—he subdued, and acquired both a vast territory and countless cities, of which we did not even before know the names.

42.3. And all these things, moreover, receiving from you neither a sufficient force nor adequate money, he accomplished so quickly that he had conquered before any of you perceived that he was at war, and settled so securely that he made both Celtica and Britain accessible from

42.4. them. And now is enslaved the Gaul which sent against us the Ambrones and the Cimbri, and is all farmed like Italy itself, and there is sailed not the Rhone any longer alone, nor the Saône, but the Meuse and the Loire and the Rhine itself and the Ocean itself.

42.5. For the things of which, even hearing their names, we did not believe they existed, these have been won for us besides, the formerly unknown made passable, the formerly unexplored made navigable, by his magnificence and by his

43.1. greatness of mind. And had not certain men, envying him, or rather you, fallen into sedition, and compelled him to return here before the fitting time, he would assuredly have subdued the whole of Britain too, with the other islands lying about it, and all Celtica as far as the Arctic Ocean, so that we should have for boundaries thereafter not land nor men, but

43.2. air and the outer sea. For on this account you too, seeing the greatness of his design and his deeds and his fortune, assigned him to rule for the longest time; which, from the time we became a democracy, belonged to no other—I mean to lead for eight whole years in succession. So truly did you reckon that he was acquiring all those things for you, and never did you suspect that he would grow great against you.

43.3. But you indeed desired that he linger in those regions for the longest time; yet those who reckoned the commonwealth no longer common but their own private possession permitted neither him to subdue the rest nor you to be masters of all of them, but, abusing his occupation, dared many impious things, so that you needed his help.

44.1. And on this account, abandoning what lay before him, he quickly came to your aid, and freed all Italy from the dangers hanging over it, and moreover recovered Spain when it was being estranged, and Pompey, who had abandoned his country and was establishing a private kingdom in

44.2. Macedonia, and transferring thither all your goods, and arming your subjects against you and using your moneys against you—seeing this, he wished at first somehow to persuade him, sending both privately and publicly, to cease and change his course, taking the greatest pledges that he would assuredly be again on equal and like

44.3. terms; but since he could in no way do this, but that man, overstepping among other things even the kinship that existed between him and Caesar, chose to make war against you, then, being compelled to engage in the civil war, why need I tell how boldly against

44.4. him, although it was winter, he sailed, and how confidently he engaged with him, although he held all the regions there, and how manfully he overcame him, although far inferior in the multitude of his soldiers? For if one should wish to go through each of these, he would prove that wonderful Pompey a child; so thoroughly was he outgeneralled in all of them.

45.1. But these things I will let be; for not even Caesar himself ever gloried in them, always hating the things of necessity; but when the divine power most justly decided the battle, which of those then for the first time captured did he kill, which did he not honour—not only of the senators or the knights or the citizens at large, but even of the allies and the subjects?

45.2. For none even of them either died violently or incurred a charge—not a private man, not a king, not a people, not a city; but some were even examined together with him, and others at least held their immunity in honour, so that then indeed all bewailed those who had

45.3. perished. For he used so great an abundance of humanity that he praised those who had aided Pompey and kept for them all the things given them by him, but hated Pharnaces and Orodes because they did not come to his aid though they were his

45.4. friends. And on this account, not least, he made war on the one not long after, and was about to march against the other. And he would assuredly have taken . . . alive too. And the proof: that he neither pursued him at once but let him flee at leisure, and

45.5. heard of his death with displeasure, and did not praise those who slew him but even slew them in turn not long after, and destroyed Ptolemy himself besides, because, although a boy, he had overlooked his benefactor's destruction.

46.1. After this, then, how he settled Egypt, and how much money he brought thence to you, it would be superfluous to tell; but, having marched against Pharnaces, who already held no little of Pontus and Armenia, he was at the same time reported approaching and seen present and joined battle

46.2. the same day and conquered. From which, not least, he showed that he had become no worse in Alexandria, nor lingered there through luxury; for how could he easily have done those things had he not used much preparation of mind and much strength?

46.3. When, then, Pharnaces too had fled, he was preparing straightway to march against the Parthian, but, certain men there falling into sedition again, he returned, against his will, and so settled even these matters that

46.4. it was not even believed that there had been any disorder at all. For no one either died or fled, nor indeed was any at all disgraced as a result of those affairs—not that many would not most justly have been punished, but because he thought one ought to destroy the enemy unsparingly but save the citizens, even if some be base,

46.5. and on this account by his manliness he overcame the foreigners, but by his humanity he preserved even the seditious among the citizens, although they had often by their deeds become unworthy of this. And this same thing he did again in Africa and in Spain, releasing all who had not at some former time been captured by him and

46.6. pitied. For to keep alive always those who often plotted against him he held to be folly, not humanity; but to pardon some in their first faults, and neither to hold implacable anger and moreover to assign honours, but, if they persisted in the same things, to be rid of them—this he held to be very much the act of a man.

46.7. And yet why did I say this? For he saved many even of those, granting to all his comrades and to those who conquered with him to preserve one each of the captives.

47.1. And moreover, that all these things he did from an inborn goodness, and neither in pretence nor for the establishment of some greed, as many others have shown kindness to some, this too is the greatest testimony, that everywhere and through everything he was the same, and neither did any anger make him savage nor did prosperity corrupt him, nor did power

47.2. alter him, nor did authority change him. And yet it is most difficult, being tested in matters so many and so great and moreover so continuous, and having succeeded in some, still holding others in hand, suspecting others, to be ever good in equal measure, and to wish to do nothing harsh nor dreadful, even if not toward the punishment of the past, yet toward the guarding of the future.

47.3. These things are sufficient to prove his goodness; for so truly was he sprung from the gods that he knew one thing only, to save those at least who could be saved; and moreover those things—that to those who made war on him he secured that they should not even be punished by any other, and those who had formerly stumbled

47.4. he recovered. For to all who had been with Lepidus and with Sertorius he caused immunity to be given, and to all who from this survived of those proscribed by Sulla he caused safety to belong, and afterward restored them, and deemed the children of all those put to death by him worthy both of honours and

47.5. offices. And what is greatest, simply all the documents that were found secret either with Pompey or with Scipio he burned, neither reading any of them nor keeping them, in order that there might not arise the means for anyone to do mischief through them. And that he not only said these things thus but also did them, the deeds make plain; at any rate, no one from those documents not only suffered anything dreadful, but did not even

47.6. fear. Accordingly no one even knows those who survived because of them except those very men. For this is most paradoxical and admits no excess, that they were both released before being accused and saved before being endangered, and not even the very man who preserved them knew whom he had pitied.

48.1. And indeed, both for these things and for all the rest that he enacted and set right—great in themselves, but reckoned little in comparison with those, which one ought not to go through precisely—you both loved him as a father and cherished him as a benefactor, and adorned him with honours such as no other, and

48.2. desired to have him as perpetual champion of the city and of the whole empire, disputing nothing about the names, but assigning all of them to him as less than himself, in order that, so far as in each of them he fell short, from what was customary toward the most perfect both of honour and of authority, this might be made up from the contribution of the others.

48.3. For on this account he was appointed high priest toward the gods, consul toward us, imperator toward the soldiers, dictator toward the enemy. And why do I enumerate these things, when in one word you called him father of his country?—not to recount his other appellations.

49.1. But this father, this high priest, the inviolable, the hero, the god, is dead—alas, dead—not forced by disease, nor withered by age, nor wounded somewhere abroad in some war, nor snatched away of itself by some divine power, but here, within the walls, plotted against, the man who safely campaigned even into

49.2. Britain; in the city ambushed, the man who even extended its pomerium; in the senate-house slaughtered, the man who built another of his own; unarmed the good warrior, naked the peacemaker, beside the law-courts the judge, beside the magistracies the magistrate; by the citizens, the man whom none of the enemy could kill even when he fell into the sea; by his comrades, the man who often pitied them.

49.3. Where then, Caesar, is your humanity, where your inviolability, where your laws? But you, that none might be slain even by enemies, enacted many laws; yet you, the friends so pitiably killed, and now you lie slaughtered in the Forum, through which you often passed in triumph crowned, and you are cast down on the rostra, mangled,

49.4. from which you often addressed the people. Alas for the bloodied gray hairs, ah for the torn robe, which, it seems, you took only for this, that in it you might be slain."

50.1. While Antonius was saying such things, the people at first was irritated, then grew angry, and at last so inflamed that they sought his murderers and reproached the other senators, because some had killed him and some had looked on while a man was dying on whose behalf they had voted to pray publicly each year, and by whose health and fortune they swore, and whom they had made inviolable on a level with the

50.2. tribunes. And from this, snatching up his body, some wished to convey it into the building in which he had been slaughtered, others into the Capitol, and there to burn it; but, being prevented by the soldiers for fear lest the theatre and the temples be burned down with it, they placed it, just as it was, on a pyre in the Forum

50.3. itself. And even so much of the surrounding buildings would have been destroyed, had not the soldiers been in the way and the consuls thrust some of the bolder ones down from the Capitoline rocks. Yet the rest did not on this account

50.4. cease their disorder, but set out against the houses of the slayers, and in this killed, among others, Helvius Cinna, a tribune, to no purpose; for so far from plotting against Caesar, he most of all loved him. And they were misled because Cornelius Cinna the

51.1. praetor had shared in the attack. And after this, when the consuls forbade anyone except the soldiers to be in arms, they abstained from the murders, but, having set up a certain altar in the place of the pyre (for the freedmen had taken up his bones beforehand and placed them in the ancestral tomb), they attempted both to sacrifice upon it and to make offerings to

51.2. Caesar as to a god. The consuls, then, overturned it, and punished some who were indignant at this, and set forth a law that no one should ever again become dictator, making imprecations and proclaiming death both if anyone should propose this and if anyone should undertake it, and moreover putting

51.3. money on their heads outright. These things they took forethought for the future, as though the dreadfulness of the deeds lay in the names, and not in the arms and the characters of each and the doings of them, and as though the appellations of authority, in whatever circumstance they happen to be exercised, were what made the slander;

51.4. but for the present they straightway sent off the colonists appointed by Caesar to the colonies, lest they make some revolution, and of the slayers they sent some who had been allotted to govern certain provinces, and the rest one to one place, another to another, on some pretext; and many honoured them as their benefactors.

52.1. Thus Caesar changed his life. And since he was slaughtered in Pompey's building and beside his statue that then stood there, it was thought that he had given some satisfaction to him, especially since both boundless thunders and a violent rain came on. In that tumult, then, this too occurred, not unworthy of mention.

52.2. For a certain Gaius Casca, a tribune, seeing that Cinna had perished through his identity of name with the praetor, feared lest he too should die, because Publius Servilius Casca was both of the tribunes

52.3. and of the slayers, and set forth writings making plain both their common name from the single appellation and the difference of their views. And neither suffered any harm (for Servilius too was strongly guarded), but Gaius got a certain reputation, so as to be remembered on this account.

53.1. At that time, then, these things were done by the others and by the consuls; for Antonius, although at first he had not wished to add Dolabella to the office, as not yet belonging to him,

53.2. nonetheless took him on, fearing lest he fall into sedition. When, however, the tumult had subsided and Antonius himself was entrusted both with examining the things administered by Caesar and with carrying out all that he had resolved, he no longer remained temperate, but, as soon as he became master of his documents, both erased much and inserted much in their place, both other things

53.3. and laws. And moreover he both took away moneys and offices from some and gave them to others, as though he were doing these things from his documents. And from this he both plundered much directly, and levied much money from private persons and the peoples and the kings, selling to some land, to some freedom,

53.4. to others citizenship, to others exemption from taxes, although the senate at first voted that no tablet, as though Caesar had decreed anything, be set up (for into bronze tablets all such things were inscribed), and then, when he pressed, saying that many necessary things had been resolved beforehand by him, ordered all the foremost men in common

53.5. to decide them. But he took no thought of any of these things, and on the whole despised Octavius, as being a stripling and inexperienced in affairs, and rejecting the inheritance as being both grievous and hard to manage; while he himself, as being heir not only of the property but also of the dominion of Caesar, administered everything; for, among other things, he restored certain exiles.

53.6. And since Lepidus had great strength and held over him much fear, he both married his daughter to his son and arranged that he be appointed high priest, in order that he might not meddle in anything he was

53.7. doing. For, in order that he might do it easily, he referred the choice of the high priest back from the people to the priests again, and among them appointed him, doing none or few of the customary things, although he himself might have been consecrated.