Political Speeches (Oxford World's Classics) (39 page)

[23] Therefore, citizens, since a thanksgiving has been decreed at all places of worship, you should spend the days devoted to it celebrating with your wives and children. Often in the past, honours have been justly and deservedly paid to the immortal gods—but never more justly than now. You have been rescued from the cruellest and most wretched of deaths, and rescued without a massacre
and without bloodshed. Without an army, without fighting, and as civilians, and with me alone, a civilian, as your leader and commander, you have been victorious.

[24] Think, citizens, of all the civil wars, not only the ones you have heard of, but the ones you have personally witnessed and remember. Lucius Sulla crushed Publius Sulpicius.
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Gaius Marius, the guardian of this city, and many valiant men he either exiled or killed. The consul Gnaeus Octavius expelled his colleague from the city by force of arms: where we are standing now was piled with bodies and overflowing with the blood of citizens. Afterwards Cinna and Marius gained the upper hand, and with the deaths of our most illustrious citizens the light of our country was put out. Later Sulla avenged the brutality of that victory: I do not need to remind you how many citizens lost their lives and what a catastrophe it was for Rome. Marcus Lepidus quarrelled with the illustrious and valiant Quintus Catulus, though Lepidus’ death was not so deeply mourned as those of the others.
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[25] And yet all those conflicts were concerned not with destroying the state, but only with changing it. Those people I mentioned did not want there to be no country, but a country in which they were the leading men; they did not want to burn this city, but to do well in it. Yet all those conflicts, none of which was aimed at the annihilation of the state, were settled not by the restoration of harmony, but by the murder of citizens. In this war, on the other hand—the most serious and brutal one in history, a war such as has never taken place within any barbarian tribe, a war in which Lentulus, Catiline, Cethegus, and Cassius ruled that all who were capable of living in safety in a city that was itself safe should be counted as enemies—in this war, citizens, I have secured the safety of you all. Your enemies predicted that the only citizens to survive would be those who were still left after an endless massacre, and the only parts of the city those that the flames could not reach; but I have kept both city and citizens unharmed and intact.

[26] In return for this great service, citizens, I shall ask you for no token of merit, no badge of honour, no monument of praise—except that you remember this day for ever.
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It is in your own hearts that I would like all my triumphs, all my decorations of honour, monuments of glory, and badges of praise to be founded and grounded. Nothing that is mute will satisfy me, nothing that is silent, and
nothing that is attainable by men less worthy than I. My achievements, citizens, will be nurtured by your remembering them, will grow by people talking about them, and will mature and ripen by being recorded in literature. I know that the same length of days—which I hope will be without end—has been ordained for the memory of my consulship as for the survival of Rome, and that at one and the same moment our country has produced two citizens, one of whom
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has carried the frontiers of your empire to the borders not of earth, but of heaven, while the other has preserved the home and centre of that empire.

[27] The nature and consequences of my achievement, however, differ from those of the achievement of people who have fought foreign wars: I have to live with the people I have defeated and suppressed, whereas they have left their enemies either dead or subjugated. It is therefore up to you, citizens, to see that, if others profit—and rightly—from what they have done, I never come to harm as a result of what I have done. I have ensured that the vile criminal plots of traitors cannot harm you: you must now ensure that they do not harm me.

Even so, citizens, they cannot now do me harm. Strong is the defence provided by loyal citizens, a defence I can count on for all time; strong is the authority of the state, ever my silent defender; and strong also is the power of a guilty conscience, which will lead those who ignore it, in their eagerness to attack me, to implicate themselves. [28] It is not in my nature, citizens, to give way in the face of anyone’s criminal actions: on the contrary, I will always strike the traitor first. But if the attacks of internal enemies,
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which you have been saved from, come to be directed exclusively at me, then you will have to consider, citizens, what you want to happen in the future to people who, in order to secure your safety, expose themselves to unpopularity and great danger.

For myself, though, what else can now be added to life’s rewards? Neither in the honours which you can bestow nor in the glory that is won by virtue can I see any higher peak of eminence to which I might wish to climb. [29] But what I shall most certainly do, citizens, is to defend and enhance, as a private citizen, the achievements of my consulship, so that if any odium should arise from my preservation of our country, it will harm those who hate me, and increase my glory. In short, my policy will be always to keep in mind what I have
achieved, and to ensure that those achievements are attributed to my own merit and not simply to chance.

Citizens, night has fallen. Worship Jupiter, the guardian of this city and of yourselves. Go home, and, although the danger has now been averted, defend your homes and guard them vigilantly, just as you did last night. I shall make sure that you do not have to do this for much longer, and that you can live in lasting peace, citizens.

[1] I see, conscript fathers, that the eyes and faces of all of you are turned in my direction: I see that you are concerned not just about the danger to yourselves and the country, but also, if that is averted, about the danger to me.
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Your goodwill towards me comforts me in my troubles and relieves my pain, but—by the immortal gods!—put aside that goodwill and forget my safety, and think instead of yourselves and your children! As far as I am concerned, if I was given the consulship on condition that I should have to endure every kind of suffering, every kind of pain and torture, then I will bear it not just bravely but even gladly, so long as my efforts result in security and honour for you and the Roman people.

[2] I am a consul, conscript fathers, for whom neither the forum, which is the home of all justice,
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nor the Campus Martius, sanctified as it is by the consular auspices, nor the senate-house, the supreme protection for all nations, nor the home, which is every man’s refuge, nor the bed,
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usually a place of rest, nor finally this curule chair, the seat of honour, has ever been free of plots and mortal danger. There is much that I have said nothing about, much that I have endured, much that I have forfeited,
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and much that I have put right, at no little personal cost, to relieve your fear. But if the immortal gods intend this to be the outcome of my consulship, that I should rescue you and the Roman people from a pitiless massacre, your wives and children and the Vestal virgins
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from brutal rape, the temples and shrines and this beautiful homeland of each one of us from the most loathsome fire, and the whole of Italy from war and devastation, then I am willing to submit, alone, to whatever fortune may have in store for me. And if Publius Lentulus was persuaded by the soothsayers to believe that his name would spell destruction for our country,
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why should I not rejoice that my consulship should spell deliverance for the Roman people?

[3] Therefore, conscript fathers, consider your own interests, take thought for your country, save yourselves, your wives, your children, and your property, and defend the name and security of the Roman people—but stop sparing me trouble and worrying on my behalf. In the first place, I should venture to hope that all the gods who protect
this city will reward me so far as I deserve; and secondly, if anything happens to me, I shall die calm and prepared. For a man of courage, death cannot be shameful; for a man who has reached the consulship, it cannot be untimely;
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and for a wise man, it cannot be pitiable. But I am not so iron-hearted as to remain unmoved by the grief of my dear beloved brother
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who is with us, or by the tears of all these men you can see surrounding me.
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Often my thoughts turn towards my home, whenever I see my wife, beside herself with worry, my terror-stricken daughter, my baby son, whom I think the country is holding to its bosom as a hostage for my consulship, and also my son-in-law,
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whom I can see standing outside, waiting to see what the rest of today will bring. All these factors have an influence on me—but only to make me wish that, even if I myself should meet a violent end, at least my family and you may all be safe, instead of both they and us dying together amid the destruction of our country.
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[4] Therefore, conscript fathers, apply yourselves to the security of the country, and keep a look out for all the storms that threaten it unless you take preventive action. This is not Tiberius Gracchus precipitating a crisis and running up against your severe judgement because he hoped to become tribune of the plebs a second time; or Gaius Gracchus because he stirred up those who wanted land reform; or Lucius Saturninus because he killed Gaius Memmius.
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No, the men that are held are people who have remained behind to burn the city, to massacre you all, and to receive Catiline into Rome. Their letters, seals, handwriting, and a confession from each one of them is also held. The Allobroges are approached, the slaves are roused to revolt,
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Catiline is sent for. And a plot has been formed to ensure that, once everyone has been murdered, there should be no one left even to mourn the name of the Roman people or lament the destruction of so great an empire.

[5] All this informers have proved to you, the accused have admitted, and you have already pronounced upon in numerous judgements. First, you have thanked me in unprecedented terms, stating that it was by my courageous and painstaking efforts that a conspiracy of traitors has been exposed. Secondly, you have required Publius Lentulus to resign his praetorship. Thirdly, you have decreed that he and the others about whom you gave your judgement should be taken into custody. Most importantly, you have voted a thanksgiving to be held in my name, an honour never previously granted to a
civilian. Finally, you yesterday granted the most handsome rewards to the envoys of the Allobroges and to Titus Volturcius. All these actions go to show that the named men who have been placed in custody have been visibly and indisputably condemned by you.

[6] Nevertheless I have chosen to refer the matter to you, conscript fathers, as if it were still an open question: I want you to give your verdict on what has been done and decree the punishment. But I shall first say what as consul I ought to say. It is a long time now since I first observed that a great insanity had arisen in our country, and that a new kind of evil was being concocted and stirred up; it never entered my head, however, that such an extensive and deadly conspiracy as this was the work of citizens. But now whatever happens, and however you are disposed to think and vote, you must make up your minds before nightfall. You can see the magnitude of the crime that has been reported to you. If you think that only a few people are implicated in it, you are completely mistaken. The evil has been sown more widely than you suppose: it has not only seeped through Italy but has crossed the Alps and, creeping on its way unnoticed, has already taken over many of our provinces. Delay and procrastination will do nothing to check it: so whatever punishment you choose to impose, that punishment must come quickly.

[7] I see that so far we have two proposals, one from Decimus Silanus,
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who proposes that those who have attempted to destroy Rome should be punished by death, and one from Gaius Caesar, who rules out the death penalty but recommends the strictest penalties otherwise available. Each of them proposes a punishment of the greatest severity, as befits his own standing and the scale of the crime that has been committed. Silanus believes that those who have attempted to kill all of us, to kill the Roman people, to destroy the empire, and to obliterate the name of Rome should not be allowed to enjoy life and breathe the air that is common to all for a single second, and he recalls that Rome has often imposed this punishment on traitors in the past. Caesar, on the other hand, feels that the immortal gods have not ordained death as a punishment, but as a natural and inevitable end or as a release from pain or misfortune: that is why wise men have never been loath to meet their deaths, and men of courage have often been happy to die. Being cast into chains, on the other hand, and for life, is undeniably an exemplary punishment for a wicked crime. So he wants the men distributed among the
towns of Italy. Now that course of action would appear to be unjust, if you intend to order the towns to take the men, and problematic, if you merely ask them to. But if that is what you want, go ahead and decree it. [8] I shall do as you direct, and I am sure I shall manage to find someone
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who does not consider himself honour-bound to refuse to carry out your wishes—which will, after all, have been decided on for reasons of national security. Caesar also proposes that the towns should be severely punished should any of the traitors escape; and he specifies a formidable guard appropriate to their crimes. He stipulates that no one should be permitted to reduce the penalties imposed on the men he is condemning, whether by decree of the senate or by vote of the people; and so he even takes away their hope, which is the sole consolation of those in adversity. He further orders that their property be confiscated, and so leaves those wicked individuals with only their lives. And if he were to take that too away from them, the effect would be to spare them considerable mental and physical torment, as well as all punishment for their crimes. That is why, to give criminals some reason to be afraid while they are alive, past generations wanted there to be comparable punishments awaiting evildoers in the underworld, because they clearly saw that without such punishments death in itself would be nothing to be frightened of.