by Cicero
[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,* 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.
IN CATILINAM IV
[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.* 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,* 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,* 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,* 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* 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,* 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;* 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* who is with us, or by the tears of all these men you can see surrounding me.* 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,* 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.*
[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.* 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,* 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,* who proposes that those who have attempted to destroy Rome should be punished by d
eath, 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* 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.
[9] Now, conscript fathers, I can see where my own interest lies. Suppose you adopt the proposal of Gaius Caesar. Since he has taken what is reckoned to be the ‘popular’ path in politics, it may be that I will have less reason to worry about being attacked by popular politicians, given that it was he who formulated and advocated the proposal. But if you adopt the other one, I fear that that may entail more trouble for me. Even so, the national interest ought to prevail over considerations of my own safety.
So we have from Caesar, as his own standing and the distinction of his ancestors* demand, a proposal which may serve as a pledge of his everlasting goodwill towards our country. It clearly shows what a difference there is between the fickleness of demagogues* and the truly popular spirit which has the people’s interests at heart. [10] In fact I notice that one of those who wish to be considered popular politicians* is absent from our meeting, evidently so as not to have to vote on the life or death of Roman citizens. Yet this is the man who two days ago gave Roman citizens into custody and voted me a thanksgiving, and then yesterday voted generous rewards to the informers. When a man has authorized custody for the defendant, thanks for the investigator, and rewards for the informer, no one, surely, can be in any doubt as to what verdict he has arrived at regarding the whole question and the issue at stake.
But to return to Gaius Caesar: he recognizes that the Sempronian law* relates to Roman citizens; that someone who is an enemy of the state cannot conceivably be viewed as a citizen; and that the man who carried the Sempronian law himself paid the penalty to the state by the will of the people. He is also not prepared to accept that Lentulus, in spite of his lavish expenditure of money, can be described any longer as a man of the people, given that he has so brutally and cruelly plotted the massacre of the Roman people and the destruction of this city. So although Caesar himself is the mildest and gentlest of men, he does not hesitate to consign Publius Lentulus to eternal darkness and chains, and he stipulates that no one should ever be permitted to attract attention to himself by reducing his punishment or ever to win popularity by bringing ruin on the Roman people. Finally, he proposes that his property be confiscated, so that he should be subjected to every kind of mental and physical torment and be reduced to poverty and destitution.
[11] If you adopt this proposal, then, you will be giving me a popular and well-liked companion to take with me to the public meeting.* If, on the other hand, you prefer to adopt Silanus’ proposal, the Roman people will readily release both you and me from the accusation of cruelty, and I shall maintain that this proposal was in fact much the more lenient of the two.
In any case, conscript fathers, how can we call it cruelty when the crime we are punishing is so monstrous? My view springs from how I feel. It is true that I wish to be able to enjoy, together with yourselves, our country that has been saved. But it is no less true, insofar as I am having to take a firm line on this issue, that I am motivated not by vindictiveness—for who has a milder nature than I?—but by an exceptional sense of humanity and compassion. I imagine this city, the light of the world and the citadel of every nation, suddenly being burnt to the ground. I see in my mind’s eye pitiful heaps of citizens unburied, in a country that has itself been buried. There appears before my eyes a vision of Cethegus, crazily revelling over your corpses. [12] And when I imagine Lentulus ruling over us as king, as he told us himself the soothsayers had given him reason to hope,* and Gabinius arrayed in oriental splendour, and Catiline on hand with his army, I cannot help but shudder at the thought of mothers weeping, girls and boys running for their lives, and Vestal virgins being raped.* It is precisely because this prospect seems to me so dreadfully pitiful and pitiable that I am taking a firm and resolute stance against those who would perpetrate such atrocities.
Let me ask you, if a head of a family were to find his children killed by a slave, his wife murdered, and his home burnt, and failed to inflict the greatest punishment possible on the slave responsible, would he be thought compassionate and merciful, or utterly cruel and inhuman? For my part, I would consider a man perverse and iron-hearted if he did not seek to reduce his own pain and torture by inflicting pain and torture on the person who had injured him. It therefore follows that in the case of these men who have plotted to butcher us, our wives, and our children, who have attempted to destroy the homes of each one of us and this home of the whole nation, and who have done this for the specific purpose of settling the tribe of the Allobroges upon the final traces of this city and upon the ashes of an empire that has been destroyed by fire, if we then act with severity, we shall surely be thought of as merciful. But if instead we choose to show leniency, we can only expect, amid the destruction of our country and its citizens, to acquire a reputation for the most terrible cruelty.
[13] I do not suppose that anyone thought that that valiant lover of his country, Lucius Caesar,* was showing excessive cruelty two days ago when he declared that his brother-in-law—the husband of his most excellent sister—deserved to be put to death. He said this in the man’s presence and hearing too, adding that his own grandfather had been killed on a consul’s order, and that his grandfather’s son, a mere boy who was acting as envoy for his father, had been thrown into prison and executed. Had they done anything resembling what these men have done? Had they hatched a plot to destroy their country? The time to which Caesar was referring was one in which there was a desire for the state to provide handouts, a time when there was an element of factional strife.* Moreover, Lentulus’ illustrious grandfather* took up arms and went after Gracchus. He even sustained a serious wound in his efforts to ensure the preservation of the national interest—whereas this Lentulus, by contrast, calls in the Gauls to overturn the foundations of the state, rouses the slaves to revolt, summons Catiline, and assigns us t
o Cethegus to be butchered, the rest of the citizens to Gabinius to be killed, the city to Cassius to be burnt, and the whole of Italy to Catiline to be plundered and laid waste. You are afraid, I take it, that in the case of such a monstrous and unspeakable crime as this, people may think your reaction excessive! On the contrary, we ought to be much more afraid of people thinking that by sparing punishment we have been cruel towards our country than that by applying it with severity we have been over-harsh towards our bitterest enemies.
[14] But I cannot pretend, conscript fathers, that I am not hearing whispers. I can hear what people are saying, and it sounds as if they are worried that I do not have the resources to implement whatever decision you come to today. But let me assure you, conscript fathers, that everything has been anticipated, planned, and arranged, partly by the extremely careful precautions which I have taken myself, but partly also by the much stronger determination of the Roman people to defend their sovereignty and hold on to all that they have. Everyone has come here today, people of every order, every class, and every age. The forum is packed, the temples surrounding the forum are packed, the entrances to this temple where we are now are all packed. This is the only issue since the foundation of our city on which everyone holds exactly the same opinion—excepting only those who realize that they must die, and so prefer to die along with everyone else rather than on their own. [15] I for my part am quite happy to make an exception of such people and treat them as a special case: I would not class them as wicked fellow-citizens, but as the deadliest external enemies.
